[HONG KONG, 1995] Two years before Hong Kong reverts to mainland Chinese control, a visitor to this city is pushed to make comparisons between the two places and wonder about the future of the former British colony to-be. Outdoor markets and stalls in Hong Kong are little different than their counterparts in China, but housing, budget motels in particular, provide a more complex case. There are no budget motels or hotels in China owing in large part to the activities of the Public Security Bureau (PSB) but the places offered to foreigners would be considered budget in most other countries even if this isn't reflected in the prices. 1997 will be the year when Hong Kong becomes part of China once again, and for the visitor at least it is unlikely that a place to spend the night in Hong Kong will be affected by the mainland administration.
We've stayed at budget motels in Europe, Thailand, Korea, and Japan, but Hong Kong budget motels are the most unique. In Kowloon they are housed inside of large once-white buildings that look as if they were relocated American ghetto housing. These buildings aren't in a bad part of town, quite the opposite. Many of these flea-bitten places are located in the most popular outdoor, upscale shopping street in Hong Kong, Nathan Road. Using our guidebook as a reference, my wife, Karen, called a couple of places from the airport. A man at one hotel told her she could get a room with a private bath for HK$180 (~US$25). He told her not to talk to anyone downstairs (the hotel was on the 13th floor) about where she was going or she would have to pay more because they would follow her up. She didn't really understand, but repeated back what she wanted and the price which he confirmed a second time before she hung up the phone.
When we got off a bus that we had taken from the airport, we were instantly assaulted by numerous individual Sri Lankan men saying things like "Chungking Mansion", and "do you need a place to stay?" We ignored them or simply said "No, we've already got a place," and continued on walking in search of a slum building that had a slightly better reputation than Chungking Mansion. These salesmen were persistent, and my temper soon began to boil because we were carrying lots of baggage and wearing our jackets because they didn't fit in our bags and it seemed the best way to carry them despite the burning rays of the sun and the thickness of the humidity in the air. To one particularly persistent man I said, "no", and he repeated his question undaunted so I said "leave me alone." When he repeated his question a third time, I yelled "Get the fuck away from me. You goddamn asshole!" That did the trick, but within a minute another Sri Lankan man started to do the same thing and looked as if he was going to follow us up the elevator, so remembering what the man had told Karen on the telephone, I told her to go on the elevator without me. Anywhere we've been where someone is trying to get our business, they always assume that I will make the decision so I could anticipate that this man was going to follow me rather than Karen. And so he waited for me to get on the elevator rather than follow Karen, but soon left me alone.
When I got to the 13th floor, Karen was talking to a Chinese woman at a desk in the hallway right outside of the elevator. I asked the woman if I could see the room and after seeing it I asked her again how much it was. She told me "HK$250." I went back to Karen and asked her if the man on the telephone had not said it would be HK$180 which she affirmed. When I related to the woman that a man had told us a different price, she began spewing out a monologue how this was impossible and would not listen to what I had to say. I finally gave up talking to her but she kept spewing until we got back on the elevator.
We looked for another "hotel" that our guidebook had "recommended" in this same building and another Sri Lankan man showed us a room. I said I wanted to pay HK$180 and he spoke to another Sri Lankan. Then he returned to us and said that we had to go to another floor where the cheaper rooms were located. After taking us there and showing us the room, I asked the man how much it would cost. He told me, "HK$250." We left, but his voice stung in my ear for some time.
We went to another slum building further up the road where after two additional attempts we finally accepted a room for HK$270. I guess our lesson was that principles cost.
I've noticed that Hong Kong Chinese are very adept at walking in crowded places without bumping into strangers even if they seem to be rather impolite in other situations. On a hot, hazy day, crowds maneuver expertly around large ubiquitous sidewalk puddles. My movements weren't so deft so I not only walked in the puddles, but had drops of water hit my head and shoulders numerous times. Coming from a place where the need for an air conditioner is about as rare as the sight of snow on the ground in Hawaii, I worried where the puddle-forming moist droplets were coming from until I realized they were formed by the air conditioners of the tall apartment/condominium buildings. In a part of the world where hygiene leaves much to be desired, I never felt completely confident in the truth of my deduction.
The most popular image of Hong Kong is that of boats gliding in the foreground of Victoria Harbor with the modern skyline of Hong Kong Island in the background. Such pictures never convey the feeling of a refreshing cool breeze that passes through the humid, sticky air. A more thorough view of Hong Kong might add a walk down Nathan Road which looks much like any other shop-filled street yet the sun fearing Chinese women of Hong Kong have a unique fashion ideal characterized by short revealing skirts over slim, toneless bodies. Taking detour from Nathan Road you will venture upon the jade market which is widely popular amongst the Orientals but not the Occidentals in this colony. Here you can view large stones being prepared for cutting and smaller slabs having round holes of jade punched out of them before further cutting and polishing. There are numerous shops selling finished jade and people negotiating prices with vendors as they examine merchandise on the sidewalk in front of stores as well as inside these shops. Your walk innocently leads you to a food market the sort of which is common in East Asia. Sanitation is not a top priority here. A truck blocks your way in a narrow alley of the market area. As it begins to move forward, a couple of sacks lining the road are slowly revealed with the bloodied pieces of fish guts and gills left their by fish vendors. Just around a corner there are two different kinds of live chickens crammed into baskets and cages. Two women work on butchering some freshly slaughtered, de-feathered chickens a few feet away. A couple more chickens lay dead next to them on the blackened cement curb awaiting their turn. You might also walk past a couple of shops with a couple of dozen dried, pressed whole ducks hanging from the shop windows. Live turtles also seem to be a popular item here.
Your next stop might be a place called Mong Kok, site of a colorful bird market. Small, intricate wooden cages filled with singing birds line the alleyway. There are also a few tables here and there covered with bags of crickets. Suddenly a man riding a bicycle passes you and stops. He has several pigskins flopped over the front and rear of his bicycle. They are actually a little more than pigskins, but quite less than the whole pig carcass. The meat and bones seem to have been stripped somehow from the body.
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