Cows on the road!

Lockhart Road, Wanchai, 6pm


Tai Mong Tsai Road, Sai Kung, 6pm

In the previous post, I mentioned the startling contrasts between urban and rural Hong Kong, and the photos of Wanchai and Sai Kung says it all. The noise, glitz, bars, and neon signs on the one hand, and cows on the road on the other.


Imagine you are driving along Tai Mong Tsai Road on the way home, and there's a herd of cattle crossing the road. You begin to count as the traffic is held up on both lanes. A few years ago, you may have counted up to 40 bulls cows, and calves. To me, brought up on Sri Lankan coconut plantations that also had lots of cattle on them, such scenes in Sai Kung bring back happy memories from the past. But, on a dark and rainy night, a black bull sauntering down the road could also pose a danger to drivers.


Near Sai Kung town last Sunday. Two spring calves can be seen in the background.

According to Explore Sai Kung magazine, When Austin Coates wrote Myself a Mandarin: Memoirs of a Special Magistrate (1968), cattle were still an integral part of life for villagers in the rural New Territories. Coates' first case in 1949 involved a divorce case which centred on not the children but custody of the family cow.

Most of the farmers in the New Territories left for the UK in the 1960s and 70s, abandoning their cows, fields, and homes. Only a few of their children have returned to their ancestral villages. The cows are now feral, wondering freely in the Sai Kung area. Although a bull may appear threatening, they are docile animals and pose no harm to pedestrians and hikers.

But some residents, especially villagers with small vegetable plots, find the cattle a nuisance, both on the roads and around their gardens. Some drivers resent their habit of lying on the road which slows down traffic. Because of complaints, Explore Sai Kung says that the Agriculture, Fisheries, and Conservation Department darts the animals with tranquilizer and bring them to the Department's Animal Management Centre. Tragically, these animals are "auctioned off to the one slaughterhouse and meat processing facility in HK". I don't see large herds of cattle any more and I am afraid many of them would have been sold for slaughter.


Fawzia & Taro on the road with cattle. tai Mog Tsai Road, near my house.

I only see smaller herds now, with one bull, a few cows and some calves. Over the years, I have seen only two bulls. The older bull has been driven away from the herd and now wonders alone. Some years ago, when I was bringing my sister home from the airport, we found the two bulls locking horns in the middle of the road. Having just driven through the highrises of Shatin and Ma On Shan, my sister watched this bucolic scene in amazement.



On Tai Mong Tsai Road.

Two days ago, we were taking Taro for his morning walk when we met the small herd shown in the photos. They were wandering all over the road, and considerate drivers would slow and swerve to avoid the animals. Although the bull, with pointed horns, looked fearsome, he minded his own business and avoided any contact with us.


The bull with his "harem"

I notice that a number f calves have been born this year, and that bodes well for the herds. They are an integral part of Sai Kung and I hope they'll be around for many years to come.

The Last Survivor?

Leonard Woolf's immortal classic Village in the Jungle, set in colonial Ceylon, narrates the gradual decline of a small dry-zone village. As the villagers die out or leave, the jungle gradually covers the crumbling, miserable huts. The last survivor is Punchi Menika, one of the daughters of Silindu, the tragic protagonist of the novel. In the final scene, as Punchi Menika lies in her dilapidated hut, a giant wild boar glides into the hut like a mythical devil to gore her.

This scene comes to mind whenever I come across an abandoned village in Sai Kung. In fact, in the case of Wong Chuk Yeung, a village about 3 kms uphill from Sai Kung town, among the lush and verdant hillside, the novel's ending is especially relevant for a very good reason, which relates to the title of this entry.


Crowded Mong Kok

Even after living in Hong Kong for 14 years, I am fascinated by the contrasts here. To me, the most striking contrast is the crowded urban areas of Central, Kowloon, and Mong Kok, and the deserted and abandoned villages in the rural parts of the New Territories where I live. After all, Hong Kong is barely 500 square miles and only half of that is inhabited. (The rest is given over to hillsides and country parks.) We are 7 million tightly packed people here. A journey on the MTR during rush hour provides ample evidence of this density. The real estate prices are among the highest in the world. Then, how does one explain abandoned villages?

Apparently, these isolated villages were occupied by rice and vegetable farmers. They lacked proper roads, schools, electricity, or water service, but this simple life style suited the villagers. But, as Hong Kong prospered, their children moved to more urban areas or even abroad. As the older villagers died out and imported rice became cheaper, the rice fields were abandoned and the cows that pulled the ploughs were let loose to fend for themselves.


Approach to Wong Chuk Yeung village

Wong Chuk Yeung village lies within Ma On Shan Country Park, at the end of narrow, steep, twisting Chuk Yeung Road, climbing past Shan Liu village on the right. On the way up, a steep slope is on the left and a forest is to the right. As the road crosses the MacLehose trail favored by hikers, the forest presses on the road from either side. At its first appearance, the village might give the idea of being inhabited, with electric lines, functioning taps, and an adequate parking lot. However, the lichen-covered houses and the trash-strewn, weed-choked alleyways seem to indicate the leck of inhabitants. Rice fields and fruit trees long abondoned and over grown with weeds surround the village. A few graves which are well maintained can also be seen nearby.


Wong Chuk Yeung

I have been going up the road for a number of years now, and an elderly gentleman who looked to be in his early 80's would pass me by on his way to Sai Kung town or on the way back to the village. He wasn't sociable and did not appear to notice me or other hikers. I would also see him in town occasionally, chatting with people his age or doing a little shopping. Although the walk to and back from the village must have been strenuous for a man his age, I never saw him take a taxi.

Later, I also discovered a younger man at the village. He owned a bicycle, and, although I never saw him cycling downhill, I would meet him on the way back, laboriously pushing his bike laden with plastic shopping bags. He would pause often on the way, squatting on the ground to rest before he attempted a further stretch of the steep road.

For the past year or so, I have not seen the elderly gentleman. Has he moved elsewhere to be with his children, or has he passed away? I still see the younger man and I believe he is the last survivor of the village, living in a ramshackle house with three dogs. He must have an income (probably government welfare payments) because he shops and also keeps his bicycle in good repair. He must lead a very lonely life. I know that the police visit the village regularly, so he can't come to any harm.


Wong Chuk Yeung

Obviously, the road, electricity, and water service came too late. Had they arrived in time, more villagers may have stayed back. On the other hand, the availability of electricity and water would also tempt Hong Kong's rapacious real estate developers. I hope the government and green groups manage to fend them off because Wong Chuk Yeung village deserves the peace and tranquility it has now, providing a pleasant contrast to the manic pace of most Hong Kong localities.


Wong Chuk Yeung


Wong Chuk Yeung


The last survivor?



On the way down to Sai Kung



View of Sai Kung town on the way down

On the way back to Sai Kung, splendid views of the town and the High Island Reservoir, within the Sai Kung Country Park, open up. Although teams of hikers appear on weekends, the road is mainly deserted during weekdays. Domestic helpers walking their employers' dogs can be seen, but they too become fewer when the heat of summer sets in. I have seen the fragile-looking barking deer on the road and also wild boar. On some afternoons, paragliders could be seen flotaing down towards Sai Kung town.

I wonder about the last survivor. Why does he continue to live amidst such decay? Why doesn't he move to a more comfortable home where he does not need to push a bicycle up a steep hill? Does he have any relatives left? How long will he last?



View of High Island Reservoir on the way down

For more info, go to http://www.thingsasian.com/stories-photos/2978

Victor Ratnayake

In the 1940's and 50's, the Sri Lankan music scene was dominated by musicians who were strongly influenced by Hindi music. Hindi movies were popular and music directors copied the tunes, and lyricists simply inserted Sinhala words to match the music. Vocalists like Rukmani Devi, Lata and Dharmadasa Walpola, Mohideen Baig, and GSB Rani come to mind. More traditional musicians such as Sunil Shantha and Ananada Samarakoon, although popular, were often not heard on radio.

In the 1960's, with the reawakening of nationalism, the classical Sinhala music of Amaradeva and Nanda Malani gained popularity as a reaction to the music of the previous decades. Although Amaradeva had been trained in India, he managed to capture the essence of local thoughts and feelings, and was backed by Sinhala musicians with traditional local instruments.

Then, in the mid 1960's, like a cooling breeze, came Victor Ratnayake's melodious music, not classical but nevertheless very Sinhala. Trained locally, Victor captured the feelings and longings of young people with a judicious blending of Western and Oriental music, and simple yet heartwarming lyrics. I was in secondary school at that time, and I remember vividly his popularity among my classmates. Remarkably, Victor composed the music for nealrly all his songs, and this probably enabled him to sing with feelings that few other vocalists could match.

In the 1970's, Victor began a one-man show titled "Sa", and it soon became a hit in Sri Lanka. Over the years, it has been performed nearly 1,500 times to popular acclaim. "Sa" is in great demand in the Sri Lankan diaspora as well , in North America, Europe, and Australia.

As I left Sri Lanka to live and work abroad--in the Middle East, the USA, and Hong Kong--Victor's music travelled with me. Although I am not a Buddhist, his songs in praise of Lord Buddha and Buddhism were close to my own philosophy in life. Being close to my mother and missing her deeply because I lived away from her, Victor's "Aadaraye ulpatha", sung in praise of motherhood, became my favorite song. As I drove hundreds of miles between Alabama, Texas and Arkansas, Victor accompanied me on tape and on CD. He was a link to my birthplace, to my family, and the lifestyle and culture that I missed.

Victor on his 2006 visit with Fawzia and me

Then, in 2006, Victor came to Hong Kong for a concert along with other musicians. When I told Victor that I had been a fan for more than 40 years, he was surprised and happy. Surprised because I am not Sinhalese yet appreciated Sinhala music. Despite his fame and popularity (he has millions of fans all over the world), I found Victor to be an unassuming man with simple tastes. He lived up to the impression he had created through his music. I invited him to return to Hong Kong for "Sa" .

After much preparation and with the support of sponsors and Sri Lankan Airlines, "Sa" was conducted in Hong Kong on March 23. Victor was accompanied by a tablarist, a guitarist, a flutist, an organist, and a sitarist. Details of the concert and photos can be seen at http://ihome.ust.hk/~channa/Sa.htm, which was set up by my friend Channa Withana.

Victor with Channa Withana, Nirosha, and baby Chanuka at my house, March 2008

Victor stayed with us in Sai Kung during his visit. They were four delightful days, chatting, sharing meals, listening to music, and visiting nearby Sai Kung town. Widely read and traveled, Victor entertained us with stories of the Sri Lankan diaspora and other musicians he has known. To him, the ongoing conflict in Sri Lanka was a deep concern. I learned that Victor's favorite Western musician was Jim Reeves, one of my favorite musicians, too.

Victor and Fawzia shopping in Sai Kung

Since his wife passed away a few years ago, Victor lives alone, looked after by his daugter Chandani and other children. I will be seeing Victor when I visit Sri Lanka later this month. We are planning a trip to Dambulla.

Victor at my house in Sai Kung

Dining in Sai Kung

In 2000, I moved from the Chinese University staff quarters in Shatin to a village house in Sai Kung. Looking back, this appears to be the smartest decision I've made since moving to Hong Kong. I've been at Clover Lodge, within walking distance to the Sai Kung Country Park, for 8 years now, which seems like the longest I've lived at one location anywhere.

Sai Kung is irresistible. In crowded Hong Kong, with skyscrapers and tall apartment buildings on all sides, blaring traffic and crowded sidewalks, Sai Kung is an oasis of greenery and clean air. Being a "low density" area, there isn't a skyscraper in sight. To one side, green hills dot the skyline. At the other end, the town extends to the bay with a pier and seaside restaurants. The calm surroundings appear to have an effect on the local residents: they are friendly and service comes with a smile. Above all, Sai Kung is a diner's dream, with restaurants offering an interesting variety of cuisines for a town so small.

For dining, I have tried most restaurants in town. To name a few, "fusion" restaurants like Jaspas, Cru, Grande, and the brand new Okapi. Italianos, Firenze, and Appetito that serve Italian food. For Indian food, Sai Kung has Jo Jo's, Dia, and Village. For Thai, two Sawaddiee restaurants. Of course, there are many places offerng Chinese and Cantonese cuisine.

Jaspas is seen on the right, next to Ali Oli bakery.

My favorite restaurants are Jaspas and Anthony's Catch. Jaspas situated at the main square. Just to describe the ambiance, Jaspas has the Green Earth shop (which sells eco-friendly items and organic food), the SPCA, Sauce restaurant, and Ali Oli bakery to one side. The menu is eclectic, the staff friendly and attentive, and the fusion food creative and irresistible. Look for Sing and Kee, the friendly managers. Kee is the talkative guy with a vaguely Scottish accent. He’s not much interested in cricket, but he’s a football nut. Explore Sai Kung magazine gives out service excellence awards annually, and Sing won the inaugural award in 2006 and Kee won it last year. That gives a measure of their popularity as well as the level of service at Jaspas. My favourite items on the menu are the Greek salad, coconut curry prawns, chicken fajitas, and lamb koftas. I have been going to Jaspas for more than 10 years now, and they have never disappointed me.

Another favorite restaurant is Anthony’s Catch, located on the right on Po Tung Road across from Fuk Man Road, near the roundabout. The photo does not do justice to the restaurant. Actually, it's a more laid back place.


Anthony's Catch

On Thursdays evenings, Anthony’s serves-up a New England Clam Bake, which includes French bread with roasted garlic, steamed clams and mussels, roasted new potatoes, corn on the cob--all in unlimited serving--and to top it all, a Maine lobster for each customer, and all the San Miguel beer you can drink. The last time I went for the Clam Bake, which was a few years ago, Folk-Rock guitarists Big John and Greg provided live music. Anthony Sweet, owner/chef, graduated from the Culinary Institute of America and worked in seafood restaurants in San Francisco for 10 years before coming to Hong Kong. It shows. Egregious as ever, he mixes freely with the customers. Anthony’s wife, Candy, also serves at the restaurant. (That makes her Mrs. Candy Sweet!) Don't miss the singing fish in the men’s room!

On Sundays from noon, Anthony’s serves brunch, which includes all-you-can drink “champagne” (actually sparkling wine), fresh fruit, croissants & Danish, and a choice of four entrees. My favourite is the Eggs Benedict with smoked salmon and sautéed potatoes. To the sound of popping corks, the “champagne” never stops flowing, even if you hang around for hours reading the Sunday newspaper. So watch out if you are driving.

After the Storm

Hong Kong had about 200mm of rain this morning (Saturday June 7, 2008). After the storm, Fawzia and I walked into the nearby Sai Kung Country Park.



On other days, as we approach this bridge which is about 500 meters from the entrance to the park, all we hear is the twittering of birds and the occasional car or bus. Today, we heard the roar of water underneath. The placid stream had turned into a raging river. The current was swift and dangerous. Water caught in the rocks swirled up into a wave. We stood in awe!


The river seen upstream from the bridge.


Swirling water.


Downstream from the bridge.

Then we walked back towards the entrance to the park and turned left just after passing Fat Kee Store. The store serves hot and cold drinks, beer, and light meals to visitors. The store owner was by himself, enjoying some noodles while listening to the radio. He knows me because I've been walking past his store for 8 years now. During the SARS crisis, when hardly anyone went walking in the park, I did, and I always stopped at the store for an ice cream, a soft drink, or a beer. I wanted to support him, in my small way, because he was struggling to keep his business going.

As we turned left, passing the above sign, we came across the foot bridge leading to the above villages. Two of the villages are uninhabited. (I've written before on these villages and shall return to the topic again.)

The footbridge.

Looking upstream from the footbridge.

The "drowning" sign. Previously, I hadn't taken this seriously because the water level was usually low. Dog owners used to bathe their pets here. But the water looked menacing today.

Approaching the shrine under the tree.

Banana leaves shredded by the storm.

A warning sign.

Fawzia by a gushing stream on the path.

The flooded path.

The pier almost covered with water. On most days, we would walk to the end of the pier

and the water level would be a few feet below.

Clover Lodge, where I live, seen from the pier.

The entrance to the Folk Museum. It was deserted and a sorry sight, damp with rain.



We walked into the museum, hoping for a chat with my old friend Patrick, the museum keeper. But Patrick was off today and only the security guard Betty was to be seen. She's unlikely to see any visitors on this stormy day.

Mandy

That's me with Mandy, on the beach in Dauphin Island, Alabama, in 1993

In the previous post, I wrote about a Welsh Corgi named Taro who is staying with us. Taro had a predecessor, Mandy, another Welsh Corgi, when we lived in Alabama in the early 1990's.

Mandy came into my life when Dilika, a Sri Lankan friend who lived in Mobile, decided to return to Sri Lanka. Dilika had found Mandy abandoned, and being a dog lover, adopted her. Dilika stayed with us for a while and I came to know Mandy well. Although I had grown up with pets in Sri Lanka (mainly German Shepherds), Mandy was the first pet I had in the USA.

When Fawzia and Roy moved to Conway, Arkansas, only Mandy and I lived in my house on Windham Court, a few blocks from the University of South Alabama, where I taught. She was a good companion. Having been "abandoned" twice, Mandy grew attached to me. At night, she would crawl under my bed and sleep there. When I drove to Conway, about 500-miles from Mobile, Mandy would travel all the way under my seat! Despite all my efforts, she wouldn't budge. So I would rest frequently at rest stops on the way just to give her a break.

When I decided to move to Hong Kong, Mandy went to Conway to live with Fawzia and Roy. By now, Fawzia had bought her own house which had a large backyard. Mandy thrived there. She would dig under the fence to roam the neighborhood and occasionally scared the mailman off! She also loved to walk, and the morning and evening walks were the high point of her life. When she knew that her meals were going to be served, Mandy would run about 10 circles round the yard before gobbling up the food.

Snoopy, a Lahsa Apso, wandered into the house and refused to leave. So he was adopted. Mandy merely tolerated him, always making him aware that she was the #1 pet in the family. One day, when Snoopy was taken for grooming, Roy discovered that he was skin and bone; Mandy had been eating most of his food! Incidentally, Fawzia did not feed them dog food. They loved the rice and curry.

When Fawzia, too, decided to move to Hong Kong, in 1996, Mandy and Snoopy were adopted by Miriam, a colleague of Fawzia's at Central Arkansas University. Later, Miriam moved to Washington DC and the pets moved with her. I always wondered if Mandy would remember me. My doubts were put to rest a few years ago when Mandy and Snoopy came to spend a couple of days at Fawzia's place in Maryland, USA. Mandy responded as before to my calls for "Mandy Girl". One early morning, I found her crawling up the staircase, one step at a time, probably looking for me.

Mandy and Snoopy are an elderly couple now!




Recent photo of Mandy. She must be over 14 years now.

Walking Taro

Taro

Taro is a 4-year old Welsh Corgie, the beloved pet of a friend. About a month ago he was attacked by some village dogs. Till the matter is resolved, Taro is staying with us.

Taro means "first born" in Japanese and he is more human than canine. He insists on hanging around us, sleeps in the bedroom, and, uncannily, can read our moods. When we go out, he lies by the front door awaiting our return, however late it may be.

This is Taro's third stay with us. As a result of his repeated visits, Taro is familiar with my house and he's also known to my neighbors. Taro's is affectionate and never barks at visitors or at the neighbours.

The joy of keeping a pet, even temporarily, is in walking him. We walk with Taro in the morning and evening. We go along Tai Mong Tsai Road to a nearby temple. Taro hangs around us impatiently when the usual "walk time" comes around.


Approach to temple

The temple is located about half a kilometer from my house, right next to the country residence of David Tang of "Shanghai Tang" fame. I believe he's a patron of the temple. Chris Patten, the former Governor, had been present at the opening, as seen in some photos that hang inside the temple.


The temple

The temple overlooks the lovely Jade Bay and is not often visited because it's hidden from the road. We pause to enjoy the scenery and to light a few incense sticks.

Jade Bay, off Tai Mong Tsai Road, Sai Kung

What dogs love the most, next to eating, is walking, and walking them is the surest way to bond with dogs. But, in Hong Kong, I see many dogs being walked by domestic helpers who are on their mobile phones instead of paying attention to the dogs. I wonder if the dogs' owners realize what they are missing.


Fawzia with Taro