My expatriate daughter has lived on Hong Kong Island for the
last 7½ years, but has recently returned with her two sets of twins,
born 14 months apart, to live in the country of her birth. Her life will change radically after spending 17 years overseas.
My life will change radically too: since early 2007 I’ve made 16 separate trips to Hong Kong, spending a total of 70 weeks helping her through various life events.
My life will change radically too: since early 2007 I’ve made 16 separate trips to Hong Kong, spending a total of 70 weeks helping her through various life events.
Way back I made two other trips. The first was as a tourist in the early 1970s, when the old Kai Tak Airport provided a sensational arrival experience, rickshaws plied their trade and the Star Ferry was how one crossed Victoria Harbour. The Star Ferry continues, and I took this photo from its decks, but Kai Tak Airport is a distant memory. The construction of the new Hong Kong International Airport, its approach by road, the Airport Express train line and the bridges required is a massive credit to the planners, engineers and workforce of Hong Kong.
Having collected memories galore, it seems like the right time to record a few brief impressions of the Hong Kong Island I’ve known since 2007.
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Hong Kong has fantastic public transport and fantastic infrastructure. The taxi service in Hong Kong is also amazing, and cheap, but I don’t know how the drivers survive after paying for their fuel and running costs. Beware – some of the drivers are pretty dodgy (unsafe) and many of the ‘not for service’ taxis pulling up outside bars and restaurants are actually delivering drugs such as cocaine, ordered from suppliers by customers on their smart phones. For most trips, I much preferred the double-decker buses, whose drivers are excellent.
In such a high-rise environment, the mind boggles that owning a dog (or two or three or more, often quite large breeds) is a status symbol. My grandchildren have commented on the lack of dogs being 'walked' along the pavements of their new home patch in Sydney.
Hong Kong is exciting, energetic and vibrant, yet one feels physically ‘safe’. It’s a very busy, industrious place, operating as a full-service economy. My grandchildren have been startled to discover that in Australia, you put your own petrol in the car and pump up your own tyres.
Hong Kong also has a vibrant intellectual and cultural life. With four babies in the house it was a big ‘ask’ to sample it, but I did accompany my daughter to a few very well-attended meetings of the Royal Geographic Society.
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Hong Kong generally, but especially Hong Kong Island, is being inundated by rich Mainlanders who are crowding the expats out of all the good areas and good schools. Extremes of wealth and poverty are obvious as soon as you step off the typical tourist trail of night life and shopping.
The life of an expat family in Hong Kong appears seductively irresistible, until you realise that what appears to be an excessively generous expat salary will be quickly soaked up by exorbitant ‘expat prices’ for accommodation, education and health care, plus the lifestyle costs of frequent and luxurious patronage of bars and restaurants, long summer holidays and air travel. Electricity is expensive too.
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Expat family life revolves around schools, kids’ birthday parties, playdates, pricey clubs like the Royal Hong Kong Yacht Club, Aberdeen Marina Club, the Cricket Club and the American Club, and theme parks such as Ocean Park (on the Island) and Disneyland (miles away, near the airport).
There are some free public outdoor activities for children, such as at ‘Inspiration Lake’ near Disneyland (pictured) where the kids can go crazy on their bikes and scooters, and many walks, such as the circuit at ‘The Peak’ and the numerous, more adventurous, hiking trails.
All activities for expats in Hong Kong are facilitated by the presence of live-in domestic workers known as ‘helpers’ or ‘aunties’, usually long-suffering Philippinos, who do most of the hard household yakka, watch over the kids and take them places in taxis. In the picture, the lovely ladies in blue and green tops are mother and daughter, Mina and Janice, and both worked for my daughter for some years.
It’s almost impossible to operate as a family in Hong Kong without a helper or two - or three. Many activities for young children require that each participating child be accompanied by an adult. When my daughter lived in one building subject to frequent fire alarms, attended by the fire brigade, and she had four babies not yet walking properly, for a time she needed three helpers plus herself to help carry the children down the fire escape. I carried a baby down twenty floors on one occasion. Helpers deal with the washing and drying of clothes, a daily grind in small apartments in humid Hong Kong.
Supermarket shopping for expat supplies is another burden. Most expats avoid like the plague any foodstuffs grown in Mainland China, and pay premium prices for imported packaged and canned food, plus fresh fruit and vegetables air-freighted daily from Europe, America, Australia and New Zealand. My daughter has four children and each 2 litre carton of Australian milk cost her approximately $A10. Each supermarket stocks different items, and one has to go here, there and everywhere by car to different ‘suburbs’ to find what we would normally load into one trolley on a quick whip around our local supermarket in Australia. It’s an unhealthy place, pollution-wise, humidity-wise and germ-wise, but pharmacies with dispensing chemists as we know them in Australia don’t seem to exist either. My daughter obtained medicinal supplies for herself and her four children either on regular visits to the doctor or, out of hours, at hospital pharmacies.
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My four grandchildren, then aged only 7 and 6, were on the school bus at 6.45am. It took a logistical master plan to get them all dressed and breakfasted in time. In the first picture, the clock above the driver reads 6.54 and the journey was already well underway. The children were delivered home again around 4pm, making it a very long day for them.
The expat lifestyle everywhere is very ‘high-risk’ for marriages and family life, especially in Hong Kong, as my daughter unfortunately discovered. There’s no pressure to visit ‘the rels’ on the weekends and uphold family values. There’s no pressure to fix taps and mow lawns on the weekend – in rented high-rise apartments, someone else is the handyman and gardens are virtually non-existent. If present, gardens come equipped with a gardener. With a ‘helper’ in the house, there’s no pressure for men to rush home from work to lend their wives a hand with ‘dinner, bath and bed’ for the children. Hong Kong husbands (and some of their wives) have lots of ‘spare time’ and feel free to stray – as they do, in large numbers.
All in all, Hong Kong is a competitive place to be, a place of excesses, and a survival-of-the-emotionally-fittest kind of place. I’m glad I've had the opportunity to get to know this 'world city' so well, but I’m glad I don’t have to live there.
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