This City is Dying

Recently, two incidents have given me a terrible wrench and kept me wondering what has become of Hong Kong.

A District Council member was allegedly punched in the face by a Legislative Council member at the headquarters of Kuomintang, Taipei. If I were not mistaken, the Taiwanese Legislative Yuan and its members were synonymous with violence and brawls only some 10, 15 years ago and Hong Kong people used to regard that sort of barbaric behaviour with sneer. Just last week, when the Taiwan presidential election finally drew to a close, the world, Hong Kong included, joined in a chorus of admiration for the giant step forward by the nation of 23 million. Yet, amid the highly-applauded poise and composure of the Taiwan President-elect and the losing candidates came the despicable altercation, and possibly scuffle, among Hong Kong’s so-called “politicians”, more appropriately radicals nowadays. How Taiwan has improved. How Hong Kong has deteriorated.

I don’t remember when the use of violence, both verbal and physical, started to emerge in the once solemn and dignified LegCo. Somehow, this contemptuous culture has seeped through, gathered momentum and spread like cancerous cells in the community. What used to be a rarity has sadly become a norm. What used to be an alternate form of expression is now getting out of control. Why has our society evolved to be one of disputes and commotions? Aren’t these so-called “public figures” supposed to set up good examples and be role models in society? Why do these people think they need to resort to force to make their voice heard?

Another incident involves Times Square’s 18-year-old UA cinema making way for a French luxury fashion brand. The monthly rent of the premises is reportedly to be skyrocketed from the current 1.1 million to a whopping 20 million. The movie theatre’s manager shed some light on the grim reality – the gross revenue generated from the presumably-all-day-every-day-full-house theatre will not even be enough to cover the jaw-dropping rent, not to mention other costs and expenses.

Such is the depressing scene on the streets of Hong Kong nowadays, especially in the CBDs. Small-scale, and often family-run, businesses are gradually edged out by leading international enterprises thanks to the continuous influx of big spenders mainly from the Mainland. The immense financial resources of distinguished multinational corporations are unmatched by the modest capital of micro-businesses, whose ruthless elimination from the market not only endangers the livelihoods of the ordinary and self-sufficient owners and workers therein, but also slowly nibbles up the hard-fought image that Hong Kong has strived to establish throughout the years – the harmonious integration of east and west. Sooner rather than later, Hong Kong will merely turn into another metropolitan without its own distinct glamour and charisma as global high-end brand names flood our streets in another form of totalitarianism.

One of the candidates of our upcoming Hong Kong Chief Executive election maintained that his core value was to defend Hong Kong’s core value (Yes, it’s a tricky tongue-twister, I admit!). I wonder if he, a prominent entrepreneur himself, realises that Hong Kong’s core values nowadays have diverged from those our population was once so proud of. Camaraderie, perseverance and acceptance of diversity have been replaced by a certain degree of violence, a distorted interpretation of Darwin’s survival for the fittest and the domination of influential tycoons and mega-enterprises.

Indeed the Hong Kong I grew up in has declined in a certain sense. It is now a city where our government splashes out on new headquarters and extravagant high-speed rails while shelving plans for upgrading its medical institutions. This is a world renowned metropolitan where some people can afford to indulge themselves in lavish lifestyles while others live in “cage homes” and earn their meagre living by selling scrap paper and aluminium cans.

Hong Kong is sick and is getting worse day by day. 

台灣總統大選

上星期每次轉到新聞台，都在報道有關台灣總統大選的激烈戰況：從藍綠對碰、民調走勢，以至參選人在各縣市拉票、電視辯論、造勢大會等等，各媒體對是次選舉的報道可謂鋪天蓋地，應有盡有。
 

我曾在家中多次抱怨：怎麼又是台灣總統選舉的報道？台灣與香港明明算不上親，人家選總統，怎麼香港傳媒也要湊起熱鬧來，直擊採訪，幫人家宣傳造勢？台灣選舉跟香港有關係麼？

然後，上星期六晚，新聞台直播大選結束後的點票情況，看著每隔一兩分鐘便更新一次的得票數字，我也開始著緊起來。再然後，兩位一直旗鼓相當的候選人出來宣布勝選／敗選。我在電視螢幕目睹台灣選民望著當選／落選人發表演說時那殷切的眼神，或激動，或感動，或笑中有淚，或淚中帶笑，我看到台灣民眾那份執著、熱情，我方才明白，「民主」原來可以如此扣人心弦，觸動人的心思情緒。

我雖然沒有緊貼台灣總統選舉的報道，但是從我在新聞或報紙聽到讀到的片言隻字所得的印象，今次大選工作非常嚴緊，所有細節均一絲不苟，例如在選舉前十多天不准媒體再公布民意調查的結果，以免左右選情、最後的造勢晚會／宣傳活動必須在競選前一晚十時之前結束、選舉當日不准在票站外拉票（就連香港特地到台灣感受選舉氣氛的「觀選團」在票站外大合照時，團員舉起「V」字的勝利手勢，也因為涉及「變相表達支持」2號候選人的「意向」而被勸諭）等等。

哥感嘆說，在一人一票的選舉中，即使輸了，也雖敗猶榮。是的，有600萬人支持自己的信念理想，即使當不上總統，但對於從政的人，也可以說是於願足矣，無憾了。如果台灣的「雙英」對決是君子之爭，我們香港的「雙英」豬狼會，又該怎樣形容呢？各懷鬼胎？利慾薰心？還是笑裡藏刀？我們這群隔岸觀火的等閒之輩，除了唉聲嘆氣，還可以做些甚麼？只見我們的特首參選人每天（我重覆，是每天！）隔空唇槍舌劍，互相攻擊，開出大量不知當選後會否兌現的支票，實在令人很膩。再想深一層，這些「參選人」所謂的政綱究竟對誰人交代呢？是中央政府嗎？理性清醒的你會想，他們明明是競逐香港特首一職。是選民嗎？可笑的是，在七百多萬人的香港，選民只有一千二百人。是廣大香港市民嗎？對不起，大部分「廣大」市民都無權直接參與選舉，只有透過那間接得不能再間接的選舉委員會「代表」我們。This city is dying, you know？

香港傳媒密切關注這次台灣總統大選，算得上是自憐嗎？還是自慚形穢？抑或是預演一次「希望有朝一日會降臨香港的普選」？噢，我想多了，該是為今年三月舉行的「不用選已知結果的浪費資源超小圈子選舉」來一次熱身。香港爭取一人一票普選的道路崎嶇漫長，由最初的2007年，到後來的2012年，到近來「疑似」有機會成真的2017年（雖然一直未有明確證實），不知道我們還要等多久。
 

民主並非必然，也得來不易。現時，香港就只有羨慕台灣的一份兒。但願終有一日，香港人都可以像台灣人一樣，一人一票選出自己的代表，實現真正的民主。

「你可以哭泣，但不要洩氣。你可以悲傷，但是不要放棄。」放諸香港現時所處的困局亦同樣適用。

共勉之。

Nothing to Envy: Real Lives in North Korea

I first read about this book in the Daily Telegraph in early 2010 and was instantly hooked. I have long been interested in North Korea, a mysterious, secluded nation with a repressive regime notorious to many.

Yet, apart from the rather pretentious scenes the state wants us to see in Pyongyang, what do we really know about this country and, more importantly, its people? As such, the true stories of the six defectors depicted in the book were highly revealing. It was almost too depressing to read. All the minute details of the lives of ordinary North Korean civilians, which were frequently swept under the carpet by the totalitarian regime, were brought to the surface for the very first time.

The most striking and memorable part of the book was about the death of Kim Il-sung, the Great Marshal of DPRK. It was said that any North Korean would remember the day they learnt of their president’s death, a day of immense significance in the country’s history. On that day and during the subsequent 10-day mourning period, tens of thousands of people flocked to pay tribute to their beloved fatherly-like figure at different symbolic venues and monuments, similar to what we saw on TV following Kim Jong-il’s passing. The book offered an explanation for the flood of massive grieving crowds onto the street – they were organised, or more like “forced”, by their communities, work units, schools etc. to pay their respect to the late leader. According to the defectors, everybody had to “perform their duty” several times a day due to their multiple capacities as habitant of a certain residential community, factory worker, teacher, student etc. In case you still have further doubts, mourners were said to be handed food in return for their commendable loyalty and affection which, if I may add, probably gave them extra incentives to queue and lay flowers at the foot of Kim Il-sung’s statues time and time again given the dire food shortage in North Korea at that time.

In the end, who’s deceiving whom? The government fabricates all sorts of laughable tales regarding the Kims and feeds its people with various brainwashing propaganda every single day. Meanwhile, civilians fool their state with their seemingly unstoppable tears and hysterical sorrow. A kindergarten girl was said to rub saliva all over her face and pretended to wail uncontrollably. It was also mentioned that one of the defectors, a prestigious university student studying in Pyongyang, was so troubled by his inability to produce tears he forced himself not to blink in order to make his eyes water.

In the midst of crises, people at the lowest rung of the society ladder are often hit the hardest. Such was the misery faced by ordinary civilians amid the devastating famine in the 1990s while those with a firm grip on power organised lavish banquets lasted for days. Frogs, rats, tree barks, weeds… the most unimaginable edibles became heavenly delicacies for the poor souls. They begged. They stole. They searched in deserted no man’s land. They traded in the black market. They scrambled whatever they could to fill their stomach and to survive. On crossing the border, Dr. Kim, one of the defectors, saw a bowl of rice lying on the ground in a Chinese village. It had been years since she last saw white rice. Just as she was pondering, a dog appeared and ate from the bowl. It was only then the bitter fact hit home – Chinese dogs were more well-fed than North Korean doctors.

I feel truly sorry for the North Koreans. I really do. The relentless bombardment of newspeak and their dreadful isolation from the outside world have led them to believe that they were not any worse off than their counterparts. In fact, they were taught that they were the elite race, the chosen people with every reasons to be proud. Ignorance is an insidious crime, more so in today’s globalised world driven by rapid dissemination of information. But then, to the North Koreans who are stuck in their fatherland and lead a rather miserable life, perhaps ignorance is, in a way, the best thing that God has bestowed them.

A well-known nursery rhyme in North Korea goes:

“Uri Abogi, our father, we have nothing to envy in the world.
Our house is within the embrace of the Workers' party.
We are all brother and sisters.
Even if a sea of fire comes towards us, sweet children do not need to be afraid.
Our father is here.
We have nothing to envy.”

How ironic. How pitiful.

    

I own the above two versions and have read the books in 2010 (left) and 2012 (right) respectively. Still, the stories are as shocking and captivating as ever.

More on the book: http://nothingtoenvy.com/