Photos of baby Nelum Michelle

with mum Shannon

with dad Roy

with grandmother Fawzia

with grandfather Carl

with grandmother Anna

with great aunt Beaula

Beaula is Roy's godmother

with aunt Amanda

The office

Fung King Hey, Room 319

The desk has been cleared, the file cabinets and the shelves are empty, the computer is silent, and the A/C and lights have been switched off. My last day on campus will be on July 30, 2010.

But, this is what I look forward to. Not a bad trade off.

"Clover Lodge" - a fond farewell

Back in 2000, five years after arriving in Hong Kong, I was occupying campus flat provided by the Chinese University. The flat was spacious and convenient, only a 5-minute drive from the ELT Unit where I taught and just 10 minutes to the University KCR station. My neighbors were from every academic discipline and from all corners of the world. My cricketing buddies--Bob Jones, David Johns, Tony James, and Mano Arumanayagam--also lived on campus and we would travel together for matches. Some flats were occupied by young families and the sound of children at play and their laughter resounded throughout the day.

The KCR line which ran from the University Station to Tai Po Market was downhill, and, when the wind blew in the wrong direction, it sometimes felt as if the trains were running right outside my window. Other than that, the only disturbance (or should I say excitement) came from the scandalous behavior of some neighbors (affairs, domestic violence, attempted suicides) and the occasional spectacular break-in, supposedly by IIs. On one instance, a burglar was confronted by a neighbor, who sprang out of bed stark naked. Seeing the hairy, bleary eyed gweilo, the burglar is said to have fled in terror, injuring himself as he shinnied down a drainpipe.

Everything changed when the university launched the home purchase scheme which allowed staff to buy a flat off campus with the mortgage payments being subsidized by the government. Soon, the flats in my building began to empty as the local staff moved off campus. Only a few expatriates remained. The children and their laughter were gone. The residential areas became a ghost town. In my building, which had 20 flats, only three were occupied. Forsaken and bored, I thought of buying a place and moving off campus.

My first choice was Discovery Bay. The ferry ride was an attraction, and so was the leisurely lifestyle of DB residents. But the long commute from the Chinese University turned me off. Then, in early 2000, I went for dinner in Sai Kung with my friends David and Jay. I had liked Sai Kung when I first came to Hong Kong, but the opening of the Chep Lap Kok airport in 1997 changed all that. The airline staff who had resided in Sai Kung when the airport was at nearby Kai Tak left town and moved to places like Discovery Bay, to be closer to the new airport. Sai Kung became neglected and somewhat filthy, with dog feces on the sidewalks. But, during the visit with David and Jay in 2000, I saw that the town was making a comeback and thought Sai Kung would be a good choice.

So, on a weekend, we I set off house hunting with Edko, an agent from BMC properties. Housing prices still hadn't recovered from the 1997 crash and the so called three storied "village houses" were reasonably priced. The first four houses we saw, closer to Sai Kung town, weren't in good shape: the walls were mildewed and, in one or two houses, the concrete ceiling had cracked and were on the verge of collapse. (A common problem in village houses, as I later learned.) The drop in property values may have taken the incentive out of house repairs. A house deep in the country park, though recently built and in a nice location by a stream, was planned as three flats, with each floor self-contained, and lost its appeal to me. Then, late in the afternoon, Edko brought us to Clover Lodge. As we entered House 10, the wonderful aroma of freshly baked brownies reminded me of the advice given by real estate agents to house sellers in the USA: "the aroma of freshly baked bread will increase the appeal of a house". Zeta, the owner of House 10, said she was baking brownies for visiting nieces and nephews and we did see some children. In any case, the open kitchen, the spacious dining room, and the large sliding doors and windows that allowed sunlight to stream into the house were instantly appealing. The view of Jade Bay and the sweeping arc of Pak Tam Chung Country Park in front, and the green mountains behind all added to the charm. We were hooked.

A couple of days later, I invited Zita for lunch in Sai Kung and made an offer. Although she responded with the usual "Aieee" of Hong Kongers, we compromised on the price and walked into BMC properties to sign the agreement, to be greeted by Edko whose jaw hung open in amazement; rarely do buyers and sellers agree so quickly. When I saw the deeds later, I realized that Zita had only paid $800K for the house and was making a nice 600% in profit. But, as I soon realized, I was a winner, too.

The entrance to Clover Lodge, leading off from Tai Mong Tsai Road in the Wong Keng Tei area

Clover Lodge consists of 21 houses arranged in four rows. The imposing entrance led to a winding driveway which in turn led off to four short lanes leading to the houses in each row. In 2000, more than half the residents were local Hong Kong Chinese. We also had families/couples from Britain, Germany/Hong Kong, France/Taiwan, Turkey, Hong Kong/Indian and Sri Lankan (us). The demographics began to change around 2005, with a Canadian, Swedish/Filipino, Canadian/Danish, another British, and an Australian family moving in. All the houses were owner occupied, which meant that all residents had an interest in proper maintenance. The owners had formed an association to manage Clover Lodge, which cut down sharply on expenses.

House 10, my house, is the one with the green awning. The gated houses (No. 7 and 8) belongs to Ringo, whose hobby seems to be collecting expensive cars, all bearing 211 on the license plate. He owned five Mercedes at one time. The gate wasn't a friendly gesture, but it was already there when I moved in to Clover Lodge.

The entrance

Zita, the previous owner, also had a house in California and the kitchen may have been modeled after that house. The open kitchen, and the light flooding-in from the spacious windows, was an invitation to linger. Rather than use the office room upstairs, I brought my laptop to the dining table and did all my writing there. At Clover Lodge, I began to spend more and more time at home, going to campus only to teach and attend meetings. Because I scheduled student conferences on my teaching days, there were semesters when I only visited campus three days a week. Bliss.

Taro on a visit. The winding stairway was somewhat old fashioned and charming. The 44 steps to the bedroom on the second floor provided much needed "involuntary" exercise.

The sitting room, adorned with a batik from Ananda Abeykone, a well-known Sri Lankan artist from Kandy. I had known him since my schooldays.

A glimpse of Jade Bay from the master bedroom.

The roof overlooked Jade Bay, with Sai Kung town to the right, the Jockey Club golf course in front, and the Pak Tam Chung Country Park to the left. On typhoon days, the bay would fill up with small boats sheltering from the bad weather.

On clear nights, we would go up to the roof, sometimes with visiting friends, to enjoy a glass of wine. Reclining on easy chairs, we would star gaze and watch airplanes coming over Pak Tam Chung hills. On busy nights, the flights came in a stream, one every five minutes. On a full moon night, the sight of a plane silhouetted against the dark hills and the bright moon was a memorable sight. On some evenings, we could see six planes circling, waiting for the signal to land, appearing only as bright, moving specks on a starlit sky. I wish we had spent more time on the roof. Even at the height of summer, a breeze blew and the roof was cooler.

On some evenings, we would walk into the Country Park after dinner. It took only 10-minutes, but the silence and solitude within the park in the evening was a rare experience in Hong Kong. About 400 meters in to the park, we would stand on the bridge and, in that desolate site, the occasional driver may have thought we were ghosts. We saw only one or two neighbors from Clover Lodge in the park; they may have been busy watching TV.

The guest room was large and we placed a sofa at one end.

For one year, I was the Secretary of the management committee. The policy of the previous management committees had been to run-up huge surpluses, for the catastrophic rainy day which never came. (This, I was told, is a common practice in Hong Kong.) I resolved to spend the money on improvements that had been back logged for years, such as security lights, new pipes to every house, and the paving on the driveway, which was badly in need of repair. But, one neighbor objected loudly to the drain that would be carved out to take the rainwater down. I think he was concerned about bad feng shui, fearing that his wealth would go down the drain with the rainwater. (The drain could be seen as a black line to the right in the photo below.) He distributed handwritten pamphlets, in Chinese and in poor English, to all residents and put-up a billboard near the entrance. One night, I chucked the billboard over the fence into the ravine, and that ended the protest.

I wasn't the most popular resident. I objected when a neighbor in the front row put-up a structure that blocked my view, when renovations went on for months interrupting my naps, and when trees were massacred under the guise of "trimming". On the other hand, when the shores of Jade Bay were threatened by a developers, I wrote objection letters to the Land Department on behalf of lover Lodge to have them stopped. We succeeded.

About five years ago, house prices in Clover Lodge began to edge-up. Some long-term residents, who had bought their homes years ago for a song, decided to sell. New neighbors moved in, making Clover Lodge even more international. We now had a Swede, three Canadians, a Dane, another Brit, and an Australian family. However, these changes were not for the better. One summer about five years ago, I returned to find that a neighbor had expanded her garden (illegally) by building a tall embankment that blocked our views and also made the driveway more dangerous. Soon, three more residents followed suit, making illegal extensions to their allotments. Some residents enlarged their ground floor space by converting their garages to sitting rooms, another unfriendly gesture because it affected parking. The ever smiling caretaker Jun got bitten by a resident's dog, and, instead of compensating him, she plotted to have him fired.

The driveway.

House 10 is the third house from the right in the second row.

For ten years, Clover Lodge was my home, the longest I had lived in one place. Returning home from campus and driving on the leafy Sai Sha Road through Ma On Shan Country Park, I would look forward to a cup of tea, a nap, and a walk into the nearby country park after dinner. Over the years, I watched neighbors come and go, children grow up and leave for college. Clover Lodge not only gave me the best home I've ever had but also a nice "retirement fund" when I sold it earlier this year. So, this fond farewell.