Marching for Democracy

Two days ago, I took part (for the first time) in Hong Kong's July 1 Marches.

I believe this is the first time that I actively exercised my civic right to gather, to protest, to express a wish to the government. In 1989 when I was barely 4, I went with my parents to protest against the inhumane measures by the CCP in the Tiananmen Massacre ("Incident"). Now that I'm almost 22, I'm proud to declare a longing for democracy at home, and a will to act on it.

The Economist saw this coming:

Hong Kong would be a good place to try an alternative way of dealing with dissent. On Sunday, after the fireworks have fizzled and China's and Hong Kong's leaders have told each other how well they are doing, tens of thousands of Hong Kongers will take to the streets to demand their democratic rights. It is fair to predict that they will do so without violence and with considerable good humour. They should be cheered on by everybody who wishes China well.

"Rally turnout highest for 3 years," say organiser. But not many of my friends at home participated in this march. It wouldn't be far from the truth to say that most of them believe Hong Kong isn't yet ready for democracy. I don't blame them; my family and I would agree. Most people are indifferent to politics until it infringes upon their profits and interests.

What then is my rationale for marching? I believe in substantiating a public voice, the voice that Democracy (universal suffrage) is crucial and inevitable. A simple and powerful reason.

Many people may disagree on when to implement full democracy in Hong Kong, but almost no one would claim that it is unnecessary. This is mainly driven by the fear that CCP's promise of "One Country, Two Systems" will expire in 2047 and drive us from our "undemocratic but free" society towards an "undemocratic and unfree" land.

The CCP's dictatorship will not be contested in Mainland China until it causes widespread hardship and a significant portion of the population is educated. Like in Hong Kong, economic prosperity (or progress) manages to keep a lot of people content and passive.

Although the current government succeeds in maintaining a vibrant economy, our leaders are not chosen by the people. They are appointed by the CCP in a faux democratic manner, resulting in a system that can screw up really bad without an insurance policy. Perhaps the people in the Politburo don't believe in "shock therapy", in that case I'd really like to hear how the "gradualism" plan is like. It feels like the government is performing all sorts of trickery to delay that process.

Hong Kong may not yet be fully mature for democracy, but without taking that first step, it never will be.

Check out these photos, they awakened my social conscience.

The Pigeon Among the Cats

It's peculiar how homecoming can be such a novel experience, when familiar sights seem strange and memory of the foreign familiar.

I've been studying abroad for 5 years now, and although I have been returning to my home city regularly, it pains me to admit that the concept of home is now foreign. This has been particularly true in the past year, when junior year schoolwork and campus job duties occupy almost the entirety of my time. I used to be able to allocate time to reflect, write, and connect with friends back home and around the world, but at a mysterious point in time, it ceased.

The how is simple enough: procrastination, or with slightly more novelty, mismanagement. The when is difficult to pinpoint. As for the why... as the Bard would say, therein lies the rub.

I have a theory.

Getting away from home prevented me from stepping into the Chinese mold I was brainwashed to prepare for. I was exposed to a myriad of issues, subjects, and interests that opened my eyes to the rich library of knowledge and questions around me. Five years ago, I was a young, innocent and admittedly naive and ignorant idealist. I imagined (much like John Lennon) that problems had solutions, the world was scientific and every question leads to an answer; it's easy if you try. Right.

I learned. Slowly.

Fun in early high school years came at a cost I hoped I was able to rectify. I realized that I have an insatiable curiosity, a trait certain to be the root of my "ADD". I discovered my nascent self. I am fascinated by aesthetics, intrigued by theories, and troubled by social issues. I also grew confused. I stumbled into grey areas, wandered aimlessly through spectrums, and got lost in moral striations.

While I circled in marshy waters, my friends at home marched ahead in their paths. When they clearly separated work (an intellectual endeavor) and play (a entertaining pursuit), I attempted to merge intellect with entertainment. At home, I switch back and forth from this new role and the old, trying foolishly to relive my 16-year-old years whilst moving forward. I have become the pigeon among the cats.

I led myself into a frenzied state of paralysis. Insecure, different, and lost. I'm a pink ice statue in a corridor of scurrying commuters, frozen in memory. Peering through the frost, I recognize, but never correct my defects. Where is that helpful passerby with the expertise? Or must I break the ice myself and start anew?

A Stroll in my Backyard

I last blogged in November. It's been so long.

I'm finally back home in Hong Kong and Andy's here to visit. Today we walked first from Causeway Bay to the Golden Bauhinia Plaza in Wanchai, and then roamed on foot from Central to Sai Wan via the Central-Mid-Levels escalators. The trudge took about 3 hours, but was a fruitful sociological voyage with some quality photos as proof.

It's a Sunday and Father's Day so it was more crowded than usual on the streets, but a special thing about Sundays in Hong Kong is the sudden appearance of a large Domestic Helper population. The group is overwhelmingly foreign and female, consisting mainly of Filipinas but with increasing numbers of Indonesians and Thais. On their day off, they pour out onto the streets to form their once-a-week community, conglomerating at the city's scarce public spaces, seeping into the nooks and crannies of Hong Kong's financial district, the place where their congregation causes the least nuisance.

The world-renowned HSBC bank design by Norman Foster includes a ground floor plaza open to public even when the bank is closed (a concept I took note of in my studio project). Consequently, the entire space is neatly populated every Sunday without fail, yet leaving ample pedestrian space for people like us to pass through. It's almost a sociological exhibition to stroll around Central on a Sunday.

The plaza space is theoretically lightened up by mirrors that direct sunlight through a giant atrium space, but I don't think I've ever seen it work very well. The idea seems similar to Solatube, a natural lighting solution for interiors that have few windows, but the latter seems more successful in its execution. Granted though, it is limited to structures that have a roof, not a privilege shared by many Hong Kong spaces.

As we moved further away from the glass and steel of the commercial district, we progressed from lumps of high-rises sprinkled with old buildings to conglomerates of tenement housing speckled with tall ugly beasts. The two extremes of Hong Kong architecture depict the severe and ongoing problem of income disparity in the city. Nonetheles, most HK people are lucky (relative to the world); most of them have a home, a job and enough to live on despite the minimal amount of social security support from the government.

Other urban problems persist. The lack of open/public/green space is a big issue that is difficult to tackle. Land is gold in this city. 7 million people occupy 1000 square kilometers, with three-quarters of that land actually being the country parks. Green oases are a breathing relief in this wonderful but suffocating concrete mess, but their future is bleak while the government envisions 10 million people to live in this city. That said, green parks or public plazas are rarely found and if so, only utilized by the elderly. The younger public clusters in air-conditioned malls (perhaps rightly so in the hot and humid weather), subconsciously engaging in conspicuous consumption.

This theory of leisure is shaped in large part by structural factors that are controlled disproportionately by politics and economics. You need a committed, charismatic and insistent political leader to fix this externality. Or instill a Pigovian subsidy for architectural designs that provide widely accessible open/green spaces. The sky is still visible, yet the concrete plague advances slowly but surely.

Perhaps we need to begin to follow in Chicago's footsteps.

(Not) All photos courtesy of Andy Chen.