Joyceyland

Today is the cumbersomely named Hong Kong Special Administrative Region Establishment Day, a.k.a. Handover Day. (I always think of it as a celebration of a long and complex bureaucratic process, which is not entirely untrue. It's like Chinese Red Tape Day).

It's not a holiday that conjures up much emotion (or much positive emotion). It's not like Independence Day in the U.S. on July 4, which overseas Americans celebrate with hot dogs, flags, BBQs, etc. It's not even like Fete Nationale in Quebec on June 24. (Je me souvien. I ate a poutine from Big Bite in North Point. If you're ever stuck in these neck of the woods, remember that they do a mean hamburger.)

Most Hong Kongers don't associate July 1 with childhood memories, or snack foods, since it's only been marked since 1997, when  Chris Patten tried to hug  every Hong Kong man, woman and child before sailing away as our last British governor. At that time, Hong Kongers were torn about being handed back to Chinese rule. There was pride at not being a colony, and being reunited with a country that shares our language, culture and history. But there was also apprehension about what would happen when a big Communist nation took over a small place with far greater political freedoms.

(That was the reason behind the huge pre-97 exodus to Canada, as people desperately tried to secure passports to Western democratic nations, in case the People's Liberation Army came rumbling over the border and Queen's Road was re-named Great Mao Avenue or whatever. That didn't happen, though Vancouver real estate prices did spike).

For me, July 1 is Protest Day, coming in second only to the June 4 (Tiananmen Square Crackdown Day) as a date for hitting the streets.

On July 1, 2003, there was a huge demonstration of a half-million participants, who were incredibly well behaved considering their number. But that was a peculiar year. The city was just recovering from the killer SARS epidemic. The government was trying to ram through  legislation that could potentially limit free speech and press freedom. Adding insult to injury, there was the feeling that those laws were being slipped onto the books without public consultation, when people were still terrified by SARS. It made the administration look callous and cowardly.

The city was being run by two deeply disliked figures, Tung Chee-hwa and Regina Ip, both of whom were burned in effigy on that hot and crowded day.

Today, Tung and Ip are gone. SARS is over. And legislation releated to Article 23 has been put on the back shelf. (It will rear its ugly head again, but not yet). Because of all this, the July 1 protests have lost energy and focus. Today, there were  25,000 to 100,000 demonstrators, depending on whether you believe the police or the organizers. That's a far cry from 500,000.

People are still asking for basic rights, like the one to elect our own leaders instead of having them appointed by Beijing. But My Friend Who Should Really Have His Own Blog reports that financial woes were on the top of the list.

Here's his post:

"I just  got back from the July 1 demonstration at Victoria Park.

"Among the first group of demonstrators, possibly the first, was a very long line of people bearing signs asking the chief executive to step down. These people carried many black signs saying 'Donald Tsang Step Down,” “No Wimp No Moron,” and “Lehman Bond Issue Not Resolved.”

"This shows that the widespread dissatisfaction with Tsang is linked to the Lehman bond issue

"It was a very long line of such people carrying the same black signs asking Tsang to step down in English and Chinese.

"I wonder if this strong showing of unhappiness at Tsang by many Hong Kong people will affect Beijing’s view and treatment of Tsang?

"Then again, Beijing allowed an unpopular figure with a bad reputation, Fernando Chui, to be Macau chief.

"Given this, I don’t think Beijing will dump Tsang."

*****

This seems like a good time to revisit one of my all-time favorite stories: "Mr. Know-It-All's Guide to Article 23."

"Mr. Know-It-All" is an advice column that still runs today in HK Magazine, an alternative weekly. (I wrote alot of "Know It All" columns from 2000-2003).

It's done in the voice of a cigar-smoking, fedora-wearing cartoon character who helps readers with quirky daily-life issues: Where to find extra-large ladies shoes? A locksmith at 2 a.m.? A tango instructor?

In 2003, I used Mr. Know-It-All to illustrate an almost 4,000-word article on this important -- but difficult and convoluted -- legal issue.

That's when journalism works, when it takes something that affects people, and explains it in an accessible, entertaining way. Our art director at the time did some great cartoons -- Mr. Know-It-All blindfolded, Mr. Know-It-All gagged. And I wrote it in a question and answer format, just like I did to answer drag queens wanting to go shoe-shopping.

The article was actually lost for a while. In 2003, HK Magazine did not have a good website and it was never posted. Later, the nice, diligent people at the Hong Kong Human Rights Monitor retyped it and posted it online. 

My latest from Globespotters, the New York Times travel blog. You can leave your comments there. (Or here, of course, if you can penetrate my crappy MSN Live Windows interface thingie)

A Ban Looms, but Outdoor Dining Still Alive in Hong Kong

By Joyce Hor-Chung Lau

HONG KONG | In its near-obsession with tidying up the city, the Hong Kong government can impose some silly restrictions. Like the recent one against walking up the escalators in the MTR subway system. Or the one against sitting outside to eat.

In January, the local government in the Central and Western areas – which includes the bustling financial district and the popular wine-and-dine areas of Soho and Lan Kwai Fong –- decided to greatly restrict outdoor dining.

One of the targeted restaurants is Gaia, a lovely Italian place with a terrace that my husband and I have been frequenting since it opened in 2004. It’s rather pretty, done up with white tablecloths and fairy lights. It’s also within walking distance of Central, but far away enough from traffic that you don’t see, hear or smell it. (See our previous post featuring its sister restaurant, Isola.)

The site ILoveHongKong.hk has started an online petition against the ban, garnering support from local residents.

Gaia has been given an exemption through July, and its terrace has been busier than ever. We recently had thin-crusted parma and arugula pizza and homemade rabbit stew at the last available table.

The war between al fresco restaurants and the government long predates this most recent battle. It also goes beyond the expensive, high-profile eateries that usually make the news.

For decades, working-class Hong Kongers ate at “dai pai dongs” — outdoor stalls serving steaming bowls of soup, noodles and rice on plastic tables and chairs on the sidewalk. It was cheap, authentic and reasonably hygienic, probably given the very fast turnover. (Just keep you eyes on the soup bowl, and not on the floor beneath your chair). And because of the proximity of the dai pai dongs to the city’s wet markets, the ingredients were fresh.

The government hasn’t banned the dai pai dongs yet, but it has stopped issuing new licenses for them, ruling that existing licenses can only be passed down through families. So, if the younger generation doesn’t want to work over a steaming wok like their parents, that dai pai dong will close.

At one time, there was probably good reason to crack down on the city’s old let’s-bludgeon-this-fish-to-death-on-the-sidewalk method of food preparation. Hong Kong has been hit by various animal-related diseases –- the avian flu and the H1N1 flu among them -– that have frightened away tourists and spooked the government.

But banning outdoor eating will do away with two defining Hong Kong characteristics: the love of all things culinary, and the energy and chaos of its street life. So if you’re wandering downtown and see a bunch of stools set up on the sidewalk, I recommend that you sit down and eat there while you can –- and never mind if you can’t read the menu. That place might not be there the next time you return.

Happily, al fresco dining is still alive and well in other parts of the territory. Check out past Globespotters posts on Knutsford Terrace in Tsim Sha Tsui, which is a packed, urban experience; seafood dining in the outlying area of Sai Kung; and the beachside area of Stanley.

Even if the government goes through with its crackdown in Central and Soho, there are still plenty of places to sit outside in the summer night with your grilled seafood and your glass of wine.

The first domino to fall in the worldwide financial crisis was the prevalence of bad home loans in the U.S.
The U.S. media (after the fact, I might add) is  full of nagging tales about irresponsible mortgages. The New Yorker tells of a laid-off employee-turned-part-time bicycle messenger who bought a  New York home on a 0% down mortgage that also "covered" five years worth of interest payments. There are a million stories like this -- illegal immigrant cleaning ladies using sub-prime loans to buy houses in Virginia, Americans with six overdue credit cards moving into McMansions....
So it's probably a good thing that it was much harder to get a mortgage in Hong Kong, even before the crash.
****
Marc and I have had steady incomes for years. We diligently saved up for a downpayment. We are full-time employees at big companies, with salaries auto-paid into HSBC every month. We have minimal credit card spending that we pay off every month. We have no dependents -- not yet. By all accounts, we are good people to lend money to.
And HSBC STILL gave us the run-around. We had to produce endless documentation. They went through our files with a toothbrush. After swearing to The Father, The Son and the Holy Ghost that we had no debt, HSBC dirt-diggers pointed out the monthly payment I give my parents as a sort of filial-love "spending money," and the fact that Marc bought a laptop on a 12-month payment plan. These amounts were so small, we hadn't even considered them.
They also demanded that we give them months worth of HSBC bank statements. Never mind that they had these statements right in front of them, right on their screen, and that they could just hit "PRINT."
****
There is this rather scary period after you've signed  the papers with the sellers, and before the bank gives you the OK on the mortgage. It's unavoidable, because the bank won't submit your mortgage application before you've signed for the flat. And no Hong Kong seller is going to wait around for you to get funding.
If you're rejected during those six weeks, you're basically screwed. You'll have to back out of a legal document, and pay a bunch of fines. Any money you've spent on legal advice or a real estate agent will be gone.
We waited and waited. I've been banking with HSBC since 1999, and their service has always been good. So we were shocked when it wasn't.
HSBC employers allegedly don't have direct phone lines or direct emails. (Obviously, they do, but they don't give them to pesky customers like us).  Their automated phone system is like the 9 circles of Dante's Inferno.  'Twas always thus. But what if you have a problem with your mortgage application?
You have to keep going back to the same damn branch in person, trying to find the same damn person who handled your account. She will inevitably not be there. And mortgage applications, unlike regular accounts, allegedly can't just be called up by any staff member on the computer.
It's possible we were just unlucky, since the girl who handled our application went on vacation and allegedly passed the files to someone else -- or didn't. It somehow fell through the cracks.
At first, HSBC staff blamed the Hong Kong Monetary Authority for being slow in approving our application. (This is for all mortgages of 90% or more). Then it was obvious they were just fibbing.
The straw broke the camel's back about a week before the final deadline given to us by our lawyer.
I'd just left the TST HSBC, frustrated that it might not go through, and that we might lose the home we liked so much. I was on the minibus back to our serviced apartment in Hung Hom. My mobile rang, and it was a rather frantic HSBC girl, calling after hours. Sounding confused and embarrassed, she rambled a long list of documentation she wanted me to bring in immediately, and I lost it.
You know those crazy people who scream into their mobile phones while on public transit? Those people who hold their mobiles in front of their mouths like a karaoke microphone? The crazy people everyone else on the bus / train tries to ignore?  I hate those people. But, on this day,  I became one of them.
These were the documents we had painstakingly compiled and submitted weeks ago, complete with all that stamping and signing Hong Kong is so fond of. I was sure HSBC had lost the file.
 I threatened to sue. I threatened to call her boss and put her job on the line. I said that her mistake may have ruined a family's new home.
OK, frankly, I had no idea what I was talking about -- My threats were empty and I was seeing red. But maybe it was good to lose my temper.
Until then, I was the good girl, waiting in endless lines, nodding and smiling with my hands in my lap at bank managers' various promises and excuses, hushing the husband when he started to lose it. I hate being the maah faan customer, but they are unfortunately the ones who get their way.
I never got 100% proof that they lost our file. HSBC would never admit that. Whatever happened, they found it. We missed our deadline by a bit -- a day or so. There was some frantic taxi-ing around town to get things stamped and signed. But we did make it. And we even got a sizeable renovation loan -- so I don't think our credit rating was the problem after all.
Phew. I hope that's a good warning to anyone else going down this route.
*****
Despite it all, I'm still glad that Hong Kong has strict mortgage policies, which is why (even with the "stir-frying" in the real estate market), we never had a sub-prime mortgage crash like America. Buying a home is a privledge. And if you work harder for something -- saving the downpayment, going through months of red tape -- you are more likely to be responsible about it.
If any broke unemployed American can just stroll up to a bank and get a seemingly free house, then why wouldn't everyone do that?
****
Sometimes, I fantasize about buying one of those preserved, historic brownstones in Montreal. Beautiful, clean, green Montreal, with its quiet people and good music scene and sidewalk cafes that the government will never shut down. Lovely Montreal. Cheap Montreal. I always figured that, if I ever made money from our relatively expensive Hong Kong flat, it would be enough for a small place in my city of birth.
I could stay there in the summers to write my book, maybe on a balcony or terrace. In the winters, I could rent out to students or something. (It's the Hong Kong blood in me. Even my romantic visions involve sub-letting profits.)
Sometimes, in my noctural Internet wanderings, I check places out. I found out that, in Canada, you need to put at least 20% down on a home. (Less than that, and you need special government approval, as in Hong Kong). I'm sure some far-right fiscally conservative Americans would find that "socialist." But good for Canada, I say.
****
I'm not saying I would buy. But check this place out in Montreal. It's probably less than HK $3 million.
www.1135ruerachel.com

A friend recently asked for advice on buying a Hong Kong flat, which my husband and I did about a year ago.
We may be the last people to ask, because we were the Einsteins who bought right before the global financial crash. Had we waited six months, we might have saved HK $1 million.
*****
I've been doing a lot of math since we bought. I haven't done so much math since high school.
To give you a feeling for the ups and downs, let me use a hypothetical flat worth HK $10 million. (Our flat is NOT worth this much. We wish. But I don't want to put my real property price out there for the whole world to see. And 10 is a nice round number).
Right after purchasing, our imaginary flat shot up to $12 million. As first-time homeowners, we were thrilled. So THIS is how people get rich here.
Then, the crash hit and our flat fell to $7 million.
As our hypothetical mortgage was  $9 million, this put us in negative equity, meaning we owed the bank more than the property was worth. This means we lost the flexibility to sell or move.
I check our flat's value regularly, using online property valuation tool at HSBC. It's edging up again. We are now out of negative equity, but still a tad under our buying price.
As prices are low and rising, this might be a good time to buy. But what do I know?
*****
If you buy a flat at $10 million and sell at $11 million, do you make a profit? Maybe not.
Let's take our imaginary flat and pretend that we are rich investors (ha) who can buy a property in cash (double ha) and "flip" it. To buy and sell, we'd spend about

Real estate agency fees ($200,000),  stamp duty  ($ 40,000) and  lawyers fees ($  20,000)
That means we'd be making a profit after the price hits $10.3 million or so.
****
But we're not rich investors, we're work-a-day, normal homeowners with a mortgage.
Let's say we live in our hypothetical $10 million for five years. Over that time, we would have paid $600,000 in interest.
Hong Kong interest rates are low -- a tad over 2%. But almost 30% of some mortgage payments go to interest.
Why? Because the bank artificially tilts the amount of interest you pay to the front of the mortgage. 
There's also mandatory"mortgage insurance" for anyone getting a 90% loan. (I've frankly forgotten how much, but it was significant).
And  people who buy to live are more likely to spend money renovating, because they might actually have needs (home office, amah room, kid's room, etc) and personal tastes.
Here are the extra costs in this scenario: Interest  ($600,000), renovation ($400,000), real estate agency fees ($200,000), mortgage insurance ($100,000), stamp duty ($40,000), lawyers fees ($20,000).
The extra costs are now almost $1.4 million. That means you have to sell at at least $11.4 million to  start making a profit.
Is this still a good investment?
Sure it is. Over the course of five years, you'd probably spend $1.4 million on rent anyway for a same-sized flat.
*****
I actually have alot to say about this. I didn't at the time because a) I was too busy actually buying / renovating / moving  / pulling my hair out; and b) I wanted to get perspective after it was over. During the process, I would have told you that it was hell on earth. In retrospect, I'm glad I did it. So consider this part of a Joyceyland series.

You thought I was finished with my 6/4 thing, didn't you? There's just one more to go. Here are some observances from the day.
****
I was heading to the vigil, and presumed from my cabbie's heavily accented Cantonese that he was a recent mainland immigrant.
I was curious about his opinion of the Tiananmen Square crackdown of June 4, 1989, the event we were commemorating that night.
So I made small talk -- Did he know how many people were going?
He said he didn't. But he had the radio blasting with 6/4 coverage, with exactly that information, so maybe he was being coy.
Did he ever go to these things?
"No," he said. "I have to work nights."
What did he think of it?
After a long pause, he said, "I feel sad that students died."
Hong Kong cabbies are usually loudly opinionated. Most have nothing but abuse for our governments in Beijing and Hong Kong. Few defend China. (Once I got a crazy who screamed that the original 6/4 protesters were greedy pigs who deliberately killed themselves because they were martyrs brainwashed by the West -- but that was a one in a million conversation.)
This guy was oddly deadpan and unresponsive, and the subject seemed to make him nervous, so we ended up talking about traffic. Not surprisingly, given that 100,000 people were trying to enter one of the busiest commercial districts in the world, it was bad. The police had blocked roads in Causeway Bay. But the driver was gracious about taking a detour through Tin Hau, so I wouldn't have to walk.
When I left, I apologized for making him drive straight into a traffic jam, but he said, "You never have to apologize when you are going to an event like this. Just keep safe."
****
Hong Kong's political demonstrations are the safest feeling, possibly anywhere in the world.  I used to feel more threatened walking home alone late at night in Montreal (never mind New York) than I do at a 6/4 rally in Hong Kong.
Maybe it was because the first thing I saw was the Mister Softee truck. When ice cream vans are more prominent than police vans, that gives you a sense of security.
I joined a crowd of people at the intersection outside the back of the park. They were average Hong Kong families, patiently waiting for the light to change. It's funny that China tags 6/4 demonstrators as crazy, fringe dissidents. These people weren't dissident enough to jaywalk. 100,000 people demonstrate in Hong Kong and nothing happens -- not one arrest, not one mugging, not one car window broken.
And, unlike the Olympic torch rally in Hong Kong, there was no group of "pro-China" counter-protesters there to harass people. (I guess it makes no sense for Beijing to bus people down for an event whose existence they deny).
*****
I've been to almost all the 6/4 memorials since 1999. I've always found the carnival-esque feel odd.
It's not just the kids riding on shoulders, grannies, smiling teenaged volunteers and vanilla softserve.  There were stalls selling T-shirts and souvenirs, and hawkers yelling into megaphones.  The money ostensibly goes to pro-democracy groups and political parties, but still. On one hand, I'm glad the event is accessible to the average person, proving that you don't have to be an activist to care about these issues. On the other hand, it can feel a bit, well, easy-going, for a massacre memorial.
(I am also deeply ambivalent about people who take this opportunity to fly the Taiwan flag at the event. All power to Taiwan; but why complicate an issue that is already so wrought? What does Taiwan have to do with this? Why give China even more excuse to criticize?)
*****
I didn't go as a journalist, so I didn't pull out my reporters pass. I waited in the hot, sweaty crowd with no view, just like everyone else, while debating whether the guy behind me was trying to cop a feel.
It took me 20 minutes to get into the main park. But when I got there, the sight of football fields filled with candlelight made me catch my breath. This is my eighth 6/4 memorial, and I'm moved anew each time, and very proud to be a Hong Konger. No photo does it justice.
I'm still not sure how many people went. (The police said 60,000-70,000. The organizers said 150,000. Apple Daily and other local newspapers said 200,000). But it was obviously, significantly bigger than past years.
*****
In the front was a large stage with lights, a giant video screen and booming speakers, as if for a rock concert. The speeches and songs were mostly in Cantonese, with a little Mandarin. (I'm always surprised how many people know the words to the anthems, which are set to Canto-pop-like ballads). The only English was a short announcement of the 150,000 number.
A nice new touch was a group of students who were born in 1989. The kids were there to dispel the idea that the next generation would have no memory of what happened. One 20-year-old slip of a girl spoke well and forcefully, and the led the audience into a spirited chant.
At one point, someone on stage said, in a jeering voice, "Tsang Yam-Kuen, are you listening to this?!" He was referring to Donald Tsang, the Hong Kong chief executive who asked people to forget and move on. This drew a roar of indignation from the crowd. An old lady people behind me said, "Tsang Yam-Kuen -- he's wetting his pants right now."
Later, more daringly, someone on stage said, "Hu Jintao -- what are you afraid of?"
The field was divided into quarters. Imagine two pedestrian avenues-- one leading from the stage to the back, and other cutting across perpendicularly. At the intersection was a crude "goddess of democracy" statue (which looks like a mini Statue of Liberty), and funeral wreaths. This is not a subtle event. At one point, the organizers burned a pile of documents on stage.
****
There was no talk of being "pro-China" or "anti-China" either on stage or in the crowd.
The next day, I spoke to my dad. My parents are aware of problems in China and are very sympathetic people, but are not overtly political. They don't attend events like this, and don't usually speak of these issues in public.
My dad said he saw something good in the local press that said there was no point in calling the Hong Kong 6/4 memorial "anti-China."
I'd guess that 95% of the people there were Chinese -- people who speak Chinese, eat Chinese, travel to China, work with Chinese companies and have family and friends on both sides of the border.
My dad and I agreed that it was more of a request to have history recognized and to respect the dead.
Judging from our multiple grave sweeping holidays, and our huge reverence for ancestors, respecting the dead is a very Chinese thing to do.