The hawkers of Hong Kong and Los Angeles: two cities, two very different stories
Street vending has long been an iconic part of the urban scene in Hong Kong and Los Angeles, enriching them socially while helping the less well off earn a living. Now, as one city does all it can to preserve the culture, the other seems intent on destroying what’s left of a way of life.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the world, Los Angeles is rekindling its street-hawker culture. Wander the American city’s streets of an evening, squint your eyes and sniff the air, and you could be anywhere from Honduras to Iran. Many of LA’s pavements are crowded with food stalls, impromptu second-hand markets and wandering fruit vendors. The diverse street scene is like nowhere else in the country. As the federal government sought to tighten its grip, instead of enforcement, the city opted to thumb its nose at Donald Trump and take radical steps to protect its vendors, orchestrating a renaissance in its street-vending culture.
As the two cities head in opposite directions, we look at how they came to follow such different paths.
Hong Kong
Chan Chuen deftly scoops an oyster pancake from the sizzling oil, places it on a paper plate and hands it to the customer waiting at the head of a growing line. On his cart stands a jar of peppers for those who want an extra kick. Across the way, even before he has set up his stall, a crowd gathers around 59-year-old Tsang Kai-sun – aka the king of rice rolls – a veteran hawker who has made a name for himself with his signature dim sum.
Fried pig intestine, nan bread with tandoori chicken, grilled lobsters and oysters; the mouth-watering array of street food on offer at the more than 200 hawker stalls has drawn a huge crowd to Portland Street, in Mong Kok, already one of Hong Kong’s busiest districts. These first three days of the Lunar New Year are the only period when unlicensed hawkers are allowed on the streets.
“Hawkers were in every district. It was a bustling scene and it felt almost like the nights would never be over,” says Chan, who is in his 60s and has the weathered face of a man who works long hours in the sun.