On Health and Safety

One might assume that there might be some logistics issues when millions of people are packed inside ridiculously tall buildings, and crammed into this small corner of China. But despite Hong Kong being a giant building site where each new days sees more than 7 million people coordinate themselves into 15,000 buses and 18,000 taxis and then disperse themselves around 8,000 skyscrapers including the 4^th and 5^th tallest office buildings in the world, the main priority for the HK Health and Safety Dept. is to stop people toppling over whilst sneezing.

The speed at which buildings are torn down, scaffolding put up; the speed at which buildings are replaced and then newly unveiled, is quite frankly frightening for a small town girl like me who is used to seeing vacant, boxed up buildings sit and wait to be wanted again. Of course, the reason why Hong Kong is doing so well must be connected to this constant rotation and refurbishment, but there are down sides too. One is that lodgers have very little say in what will happen to their building - and therefore their apartment. Recently, two HK friends were told they had one month, and two weeks respectively, to pack up and move out of their current abodes which were going to be demolished and rebuilt into more expensive apartments. The other teeny problem with having construction work spread every five yards, is that there are constantly holes in the ground, cranes in the air and hundreds of construction workers dangling from long thin ropes. At simple stroll around HK feels like you are participating in the ‘before’ sequence of a health and safety video for the construction industry. The only problem is, there is no ‘after’ video. Big bad noisy machinery, and workers without harnesses who scale the 23^rd floors of crumbling buildings, certainly make for some scary sights.   

To make things a little more nerve-wracking, bamboo is the material of choice for scaffolding in Hong Kong. Clearly there are some advantages in terms of sustainability, cost, and yes; when you get bamboo in your stir- fry it’s pretty tough to chew through. But does this plant really qualify it as the most durable product to hold the weight of teams of construction workers and their equipment? Two architect friends I have met here remain unconvinced. They are especially dubious of the thin plastic ties which hold the bamboo poles together. When the workers are done with the renovation, some brave chap climbs to the top, snips the plastic ties, and throws the bamboo down to another guy waiting on the street (who shouts and waves at you to watch out). Surviving HK tip #34: beware of falling bamboo or read more about it here.

While most street level citizens seem nonchalant toward this precarious scaffolding process, there are other Health and Safety issues on ground level which get more attention: signs in toilets show a 10 stage step- by- step aid to hand washing; cartoon stickers stuck to bus windows remind you to "Maintain cough manners" whilst travelling. Essentially, the key to all these announcements is to stop germs spreading around the city. It doesn’t take long to notice people walking around wearing face masks. Initially I assumed that people were covering their mouths to limit the intake of hazy HK air; in fact, they are trying to limit infection. The masks are made of strange powdery paper, cover 70% of the face and are kept in place with elastic straps pulled tight around the ears. Needless to say, in the sense that they scream “stay away”, the masks succeed in stopping some germs spreading. Despite the pretty off putting appearance, the masks are incredibly popular.  Sometimes, when you're following the MTR subway route, the bright white corridors filled with people dashing around in medical masks makes you feel like you’re on the set of the HK version of Holby City (minus the snogging). I did once see a lady wearing a customised denim mask with diamante detail. It just goes to show that while the Cantonese do follow rules; they do put style above most things.

Certainly this mass mask wearing seemed a little obsessive at first, but the longer I’ve spent here, the more I understand about the city’s insecurities with the SARS virus. Hong Kong was hit by the epidemic in 2003, and it killed 300 people in total (actually a very small number considering how densely populated these parts are). So, to avoid something similar happening again, medical masks are taken very seriously (a little less so by the expat community, need I add).

Other HK public safety warnings fail to earn the same level of understanding on my part. One particular campaign on the underground features a cartoon penguin cut out who stands by the escalators and reminds HK residents to hold onto the handrail. While we’ve all imagined the dreaded domino effect, starting from the back and wiping out the entire escalator line, but in most cases people work out a way for that not to happen. Always ready with a Health and Safety solution, the HK MTR has introduced Smiley the friendly penguin mascot who, it is hoped, “will not only put a smile on your face, but also remind passengers how to ride escalators safely”. The annoying penguin voiceover lady repeats over and over to: "Hold the handrail and stand still" or "Stand still and keep away from the edge”. There are even bight green footprints painted onto the escalator steps, guiding you on where you should place your feet. Apparently the most outrageous thing that a HK citizens could possibly do on the escalator would be to wear flip flops or, heaven forbid, crocs. Yes, croc clogs are ugly, and maybe they do fail risk assessments because they expose the toes, but does this extra risk really require another extensive billboard, poster, banner and digital advertising anti crocs campaign? And why doesn’t anyone want to warn us about construction men falling from the sky instead?

The best way to appreciate HK’s bizarre schizophrenic attitude to Health and Safety regulations is to go and visit another country in South East Asia for a few days and then come back. Recent trips to Philippines where tens of people pack into crowded Jeepney’s with limited seating and Thailand where whole families travel on one scooter with maybe a helmet between them. To come back to Hong Kong and notice the sheer abundance of signs which lead you almost by the hand out from the airport and into to the city, ensuring you hold on to everything available and keep your eyes firmly ahead to avoid slipping. Perhaps all this over the top parenting is a deliberate ploy to ensure you focus on your journey instead of looking up and around and noticing the real dangers looking above.

On old people

Before I moved to Hong Kong, all I'd really seen of the city was from watching Martin's non stop google streetmap searches to find out where everything was in relation to the few street names he knew. When I finally arrived, I learnt that what I'd seen on the screen was pretty accurate: the architecture, the transportation, the shopping centres and the toilets are all fantastically futuristic, and neon flashes at you from every possible direction. I recently read that HK "feels like somewhere that came into existence only yesterday, or if such a thing were possible, that came into existence tomorrow", and for the most part, I have to agree. But contrary to popular belief, evidence of the HK's past is easy to find: just look at the faces of the old folk, wayfaring from fruit stalls, to tea shops to noodle soup style holes in the wall. Old people are everywhere and seeing old people has become something of the norm in Hong Kong, whereas in other places I've lived, seeing old people felt more like a novelty; something that only happened on Sundays. There are many factors which contribute towards this phenomenon, from low birth rates, low levels of saturated fat, good healthcare, and gallons of herbal tea to the simple fact that limited space means there isn't the possibilty to build new homes to hide the aging HK population. And if you think I'm exaggerating about age, just check the statistics: Hong Kong holds 2nd place (after Japan) on the UN's national life expectancy chart with women living for an average of 85.1 and men living for an average of 78 years- and it's expected that by 2039, life expectancy at birth will increase to 90 years for women and almost 84 for men. So when I say old people, I mean really old. 

The area we live in -Hollywood Road- is well known for its abundance of antique shops, selling Chinese furniture, art and ornaments. Maybe it's because older people are more attracted to older things, or because they have a greater authority on such subjects, but there seems to be an above average amount of elderly activity in these parts. Old men and women run souvenir shops offering bookmarks, mugs, paperweights, postcards and all unimaginable household items in the form of the twelve Zodiac animal signs. Old men and women sit and wait for tourists in tiny room-cum-shop spaces stacked with shelves and cabinets displaying jade made buddas in every shape and size you didn't think possible. Old men and women sit on the fresh veg stalls, selling the the brightest sprouts and the longest spring onions to the locals while trying to offload pale unpungent tomatoes to the unconvinced expat community. 

Those oldies who aren't sitting and selling are out carrying and collecting. It's something I noticed within the first few days of being here and I haven't stopped noticing it since: old faces and bent bodies throughout the city, earn what's left of their living as recycling pushers: scavenging around for recyclable goods and earning money by trading what they find for cash. It’s particularly popular with older folk because many of them don’t have an alternative source of income as they were probably already far into their retirement when the HK state pension scheme was first introduced in 2000. Ten years on, they earn their keep, and keep themselves fit, by exchanging old boxes and bottles for bunse. But old people paced work this is not: it means walking for hours, stacking, pulling and dragging carts piled high as the collect cardboard from recent deliveries at shops and restaurants; scoop newspapers from rubbish bins and stretch their arms inside the designated recycling containers to grab donated plastic bottles and metal cans. The work is difficult to maintain, not to mention manoever, so many of the recyclers rountinely ditch the paved pedestrian areas and trawl their carts through the streets instead. Unsuprisingly, this earns them honks from bus drivers and bells from tram drivers who remind them in their own fast paced ways, that perhaps people of their age should find a safer way of transporting themselves and their treasures around town. 

Of course, not all the old folk work - but those who don't work, walk. or stretch. Old people nearly always wear trainers; they walk up and down steps and take the same steep route home that they always did and find spaces in the city to stand and swing their arms back and forth. During the Christmas holidays, as expected, our local park was overflowing with children wrapped up ridiculously warm to play on swings and slides - but there were also quite a number of old people playing in their own corner of the park: an outdoor fitness area for simple exercises and stretching. One older gentleman stood using a machine to rotate his arms around and around, at his own gentle pace. Another man sat a little further away, kneeding then punching then massaging his legs conducting some sort of self acupressure to improve his circulation during the colder months. An old lady stood next to a bar on the other side of him and caught my eye as she circled her ankles, holding her helper's hand to keep steady. Once her ankles were warmed, they made at couple of slow but steady laps of the park, followed by a round of steps. The session ended with them sitting next to me, where the old lady covered her head with a scarf to hide the sun from her eyes while her helper carefully massaged her delicate hands. And so that's how it goes in Hong Kong: this ultimately urban environment is actually full of lively old folk, who look remarkably healthy and continue to keep remarkably active and generally just keep on living.   

Old man sorting his souvenirs

collecting recycling

old man , fresh fruit

The ankle circling lady doing a lap of the park