Worst of times, best of times
It was Day 3 of Occupy Central, now known across the globe as the Umbrella Revolution. Umbrellas and raincoats, perhaps the humblest of all household objects, have been thrust onto the world stage, as have the tens of thousands of teenage students who had used them to fend off a police crackdown on Sunday. Tonight, their trusty rain gear would be needed once again – the Hong Kong Observatory had just issued the “amber” rain alert for the coming thunderstorm.
I changed out of my work clothes in the office and walked to Admiralty, the de facto nerve centre of the student-led movement demanding the right to choose our own leader. Deep in the crowd, I spotted my brother Kelvin and his wife listening quietly to a student speaker at the microphone. It was a small miracle that I found the two, as they were swarmed by people as far as the eyes could see, all dressed in black. No one knew how many more had come out tonight – nor did anyone really care. Public turnout normally matters a great deal to protest organisers because it is a measure of their success. But not this time. This time we don’t need a number to tell us that.
A few minutes into our sit-in, volunteers carrying bulging plastic bags stopped by and offered us crackers and tissue paper. There were dozens of them patrolling up and down the aisle, handing out anything from snacks and drinks to paper fans and face towels. Others were collecting garbage and cooling down the crowds with mist sprayers. I felt parched from the stifling heat and asked for water. Five people jumped at my request and came charging toward me with water bottles. I took one from the student nearest me, who then thanked me for accepting his water and reminded me to recycle the plastic bottle at the drop-off tent down the road.
There is a renewed sense of neighbourhood in Hong Kong, something we haven’t seen since the city transformed from a cottage industry economy to a gleaming financial centre. But all over the protest zones – in Admiralty, Central, Causeway Bay and Mongkok – micro-communities have emerged where the air is clean (traffic has all but vanished), people smile (replacing that permanent frown from big city stress) and everyone helps each other without wanting anything in return (we have a bad rap among fellow Asians for being calculating). This is the Hong Kong we love and miss. This is the Hong Kong I grew up in.
Suddenly, we heard loud claps of thunder and it started to pour. Umbrellas popped open like a time-lapse video of flowers in bloom. Everyone stayed where they were, as raincoats and more umbrellas began to circulate among the crowds. Someone joked that the gods were coming for CY Leung and we all laughed. Once the storm passed, volunteers spontaneously deployed brooms and squeegees to remove water puddles. There were no leaders to give orders, because none was needed. Since the Sunday crackdown, Occupy Central has evolved into a bottom- up campaign based on the self-discipline and volunteerism of individual citizens.
No wonder the foreign press has dubbed this “the most civilised street protest in the world.” Our tourism board spends tens of millions every year promoting Hong Kong as “Asia’s World City.” Ironically, all it took to put us on the world map was a bunch of teenagers doing what was natural to them. This place is much more than just shopping malls and restaurants – we now have our young people to brag about.
At the urging of a student patrol, we left jam-packed Admiralty and moved west toward Central where there was more space. Along the Connaught Road expressway, cloud-hugging skyscrapers, those modern cathedrals of glass and steel, stood guard. But they looked strangely out of place tonight, as were the shiny sports cars trapped in the nearby City Hall parking garage. This latest turn of events has forced all of us to take a long, hard look at a way of life predicated on the assumption that social progress means greater affluence and more development. But affluence for and development for ? Have any of these 80-story buildings and double-digit retail spending growth made us better people, people who are half as generous and benevolent as the student protesters? Or half as happy?
At the Ice House Street intersection, a crowd gathered to listen to a crash course on what to do if they get pepper-sprayed by police. “Don’t douse water all over your face or else the water carrying the chemicals will drip down your body and irritate your skin,” the 19-year-old university student warned. “Do this instead.” She expertly demonstrated how to tilt the head to one side and rinse the eyes using a capful of water. “And one more thing,” she continued, “you are now at the westernmost frontier of the Central occupation. It is my duty to warn you about your liability should you get arrested for illegal assembly.” After she finished, the audience clapped and broke up into small groups. There were casual conversations about the Sunday crackdown and the government’s next move. What were once talk-of-the-town topics like the new iPhone 6 and Nicolas Tse’s celebrity gossip are now completely irrelevant. Even Facebook walls received a facelift: food porn, selfies and narcissistic rants have all given way to protest updates and stories of random acts of kindness.
Three days in, the Umbrella Revolution has already elevated the intellect of an entire generation. In all, it took 87 canisters of tear gas to jolt our youths out of their political apathy. Many now realise that politics affects them personally and that the subject is not as untouchable as their parents and peers had made it out to be. They also realise that video games, karaoke and television shows may have been social anaesthesia designed to divert their attention from what matters and turn them into a bunch of (literally, useless youths) who follow rules that they had no part in setting up. Awaken and armed with a new sense of purpose, these students have risen to the occasion and reclaimed their future.
These past few days have been my happiest in the nine years since I repatriated to Hong Kong. I have visited the protest zones every day, alternating between euphoria and tears of joy. Who would have imagined that one of the city’s darkest chapter has brought out the absolute best in us? Our students have occupied city streets, and by displaying exemplary discipline and world class charisma, they have also occupied the moral high ground. What they are doing is neither an act nor a ploy to manipulate public opinion – it is genuine goodness emanating from within. I feel bad for friends and family who aren’t in Hong Kong this week, because much of what goes on has to be seen to be believed. Whatever the outcome of the movement is, Hong Kong has already won.
