HONG KONG 1956

(This is the third in a series I'm writing on cities I've visited or in which I have lived)

Welcome: Jane and our 4-year-old David stared out the window of the descending TWA Constellation. We skirted (it seemed like by just a few feet) the hills around Kai Tak Airport. When we walked down the ramp into the sweltering September heat the first thing I noticed was that we had actually landed and taxied across a public street which had barriers put up to allow for our landing. Then came the typical Chinese welcome. Some Chinese teachers from a Lutheran school, a group of Lutheran missionaries and even the President (Bishop) of the Lutheran Church-Missouri Synod were all there to welcome us. We were immediately herded into small cars and taxis and were off to Winter Gardens where a 12 course Chinese meal awaited us. We were welcomed. And that was typical of all. Fellow workers who were overwhelmed with challenged could hardly wait for a few new hands. Our Chinese colleagues were welcoming beyond any reasonable expectations. They endured our terrible attempts at Cantonese. They laughed with us and not at us as we negotiated chopsticks. They graciously held us back when we forgot that cars traveled on the left side of the street. They understood when we were slow to bow or when we did not immediately have a name card to exchange when we were introduced.

Assaulted: While the welcome was warm, the entire experience felt like an assault. Chairman Mao had won in China. Refugees by the tens of thousands were fleeing into British Hong Kong. In 1945 it had a population of 500,000. Ten years later there were 2 million (and now there are 7 million). People everywhere. On the streets, under staircases, on the roofs, in the parks, in every stairwell. With babies in their arms and on their backs mothers grabbed at us as we entered the restaurant and eagerly clutched at the bags of leftover food from the meal when we departed. Two weeks after arriving I was walking down the road in the midst of a riled up mass. Unrecognized by me I was walking in the middle of a riot. Bullets entered the wall of the classroom I had just vacated. On the street the wife of the Swiss Consul General was tragically killed while riding in her car, just below where I had been teaching. A man ran at me with what I thought was a half-drunken bottle of Chinese wine. Minutes later I learned it was a bottle of explosives. We stayed cooped up in our little apartment and waited until things calmed down under the excellent response by the British and local police.

Challenged: I can still list a few of the many challenges: finding an affordable apartment, keeping Davey occupied in that tiny upper-floor apartment we shared temporarily with two women not used to having a kid around, figuring out when to take a bus or a ferry or a rickshaw or tram, or a taxi or to just walk. Learning to never, never drink unboiled water. Even my faith in a just God had to face the reality that I had just walked by a 12-year-old who I am pretty sure was dead of starvation before the next day’s sun rose.

Inspiration: Yet it was all -inspiring. My colleagues, both American and Chinese were determined to make it work. Everyone wanted schooling and that is what I was there to help provide. Faith had been discovered and was rewarded with the sight of belief, trust and moving forward confident of the future.

Within a very short time I learned to love Hong Kong. I still do. I am encouraged by my Chinese friends, I am energized by the resourcefulness of the Hong Kong people, I am enthralled with the beautiful lights and architecture, I am blessed by 4 new children born to Jane and me while in Hong Kong. I still salivate at the thought of the good food and remember the contrast of the city pavement and housing blocks with the greens of The Royal Hong Kong Gold Club. I loved Hong in the late 1950’s. Now I go back at every opportunity and there are several more Hong Kong blogs in me just waiting to get written.