Cho Wing Ki: A Small Little Place Called Hong Kong 彈丸之地
Hong Kong, a bustling metropolis, lively and vibrant, rich in culture and history, shaped by the resilient spirit of its people. This vibrant city, often envisioned as a hub of perpetual activity and tradition, holds narratives that resonate far beyond its skyline of skyscrapers. But what of the lesser-known tales that unfold in the quieter corners? Away from the urban centre, what experiences shape the daily lives of ordinary Hong Kong residents? These stories, while less visible, are equally inspiring to understanding the true essence of this dynamic city.
In this ever-changing city, there are indeed many qualities that remain static. Think of the street vendors who have been selling newspapers and cigarettes for decades, the janitor at the community hall works around the clock, the security guards at your residential block commute each day to work, the waitress at your favourite cha chaan teng that doesn’t speak native cantonese, and even the unnamed plants and wandering animals in the neighbourhood garden. They have always been there, often unnoticed and unappreciated, whether in rain or shine.
Hong Kong, a bustling metropolis, lively and vibrant, rich in culture and history, shaped by the resilient spirit of its people. This vibrant city, often envisioned as a hub of perpetual activity and tradition, holds narratives that resonate far beyond its skyline of skyscrapers. But what of the lesser-known tales that unfold in the quieter corners? Away from the urban centre, what experiences shape the daily lives of ordinary Hong Kong residents? These stories, while less visible, are equally inspiring to understanding the true essence of this dynamic city.
In this ever-changing city, there are indeed many qualities that remain static. Think of the street vendors who have been selling newspapers and cigarettes for decades, the janitor at the community hall works around the clock, the security guards at your residential block commute each day to work, the waitress at your favourite cha chaan teng that doesn’t speak native cantonese, and even the unnamed plants and wandering animals in the neighbourhood garden. They have always been there, often unnoticed and unappreciated, whether in rain or shine.
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