Hong Kong Culture Points, Volume 3

Warning: These observations on life in Hong Kong are filled with first-world problems. No judging allowed.

“Winter”
I remember telling Joe, “It’s so nice the fall weather has finally started! It feels like the heat is letting up.”

Joe looked at me, deadpan, and said, “Did you realize you just said that in late November?”

Seriously, the day we turned our AC off for the season was December 1. We turned it back on one humid night late in February.

A "cold" winter's day at the beach

One January day was about 66* Fahrenheit, and I was pushing the stroller, wearing jeans and short sleeves. My sweater and light scarf were wrapped around the stroller’s handle, unneeded in the gorgeous sunlight. It felt like a sunny San Francisco day—chilly in the shade when a breeze picked up, but downright warm in the sun. All-around lovely.

As I waited for a street-crossing light to change, a stylish, middle-aged Chinese woman wearing a light down jacket and woven scarf walked up and stood to wait next to me. She cast me a sidelong glance.

“You must not be from Hong Kong,” she said.

Not sure where she was going with that, I responded, “I live here.”

“Oh!” she said. “Well then, how can you wear so little?! It’s cold!”

I chuckled. “Oh, I see. I’m not from here,” I said. “It feels hot to me.”

The “winter” does get cold enough to require a sweater and puffer vest, but the cold, windy and cloudy days are frequently punctuated with what feels like springtime in January. February was more gloomy and polluted, but February is short. I know the summer will be brutally hot and humid, but as for now, I’m so gratefully to be in a place that lacks a frozen season.

Odd Plugs
With some of those chilly days, I’ve become less excited to go out the door with wet hair, but this culture point has, until now, stood in the way of my locks and a daily blow dry.

I suspect I have the UK’s colonization to blame for this one: The only plug in our bathroom is apparently only to be used for plug-in shavers. The idea is, I’ve heard, that electricity and bathrooms don’t mix, so they limit it to shavers. Ok, I suppose I see the rationale, aside from the fact that I’ve always had multiple plugs in bathrooms everywhere I’ve ever lived with no problems. But… shavers? Maybe it’s just me, but this seems odd since I’ve never even known anyone to regularly use an electric shaver. My dad had an old-school shave kit with a big kabuki brush I loved playing with, and my husband uses a basic razor. Perhaps electric shavers are all the rage here. Who knows?

Despite the “shavers only” warning, it appears my electric toothbrush charger is within the acceptable voltage range, so I’m experimenting with that. So far, so good, but we shall see if the Sonicare or charger burns out faster than it should.

Given, this seemingly wasteful plug isn’t the end of the world, but it does make blow drying my hair a challenge. The other plugs in our room are too close to the ground to stand up while blow drying, and none are close enough to use a mirror comfortably.

I know, first-world problems.

Thankfully, as a counterpoint to this tease of a plug in the bathroom, we noticed another set of plugs that struck us as odd: There are outlets inside some of our closets! Whatever would you need to plug in inside a closet that wouldn’t be just fine out of it? Huh.

Well, right when I was getting sick of letting my hair air dry, I realized: The closet with the plug is my closet, the one I outfitted with an IKEA full-length mirror. Problem solved! I now blow dry my hair in the closet.

Hey, whatever works.

Transformers
Speaking of electricity, I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention that most of our doo dads are powered by monster transformers. I don’t mean the cars that become robots (can you tell I have a son?). I mean big humming boxes of power that make our American 120v appliances work in this 210v world.

Of course, this is more of a foreign-service-culture issue as most expats who move to Hong Kong would likely buy a new TV or Kitchenaid here, but since we move every couple years, that is untenable. Consulates and embassies around the world provide these transformers to slightly help ease the inconvenience of such a transient lifestyle. Sometimes it’s the details that matter. There’s a risk we could damage our kitchen tools, yes, but so far we’ve just blown a transformer fuse or three.

Appliance Size
There’s nothing quite like transplanting an American kitchen to Asia to point out the American obsession with bigger-is-better.

My biggest cookie sheets don’t fit in the oven, nor does my roasting pan.

Even more embarrassing? My regular-sized dinner plates are too big for the dishwasher. That’s right. Regular American portions are just too big for Asia. So, if I want to use the dishwasher, I have to stick to my salad plates. Better for portion control, I’m sure.

Many homes don’t even have an oven, which surprised me, but I guess it shouldn’t since Asian cuisine isn’t really about baking.

This tiny-by-comparison kitchen issue was the same in Korea, but since we lived on a military base in American-style houses, I didn’t feel the sting of less-cookies-per-batch, and I could happily host those endowed with smaller cooking spaces.

Helper Culture
When I first arrived in Hong Kong, I was surprised by how difficult it was to get around with Luca in tow. Grocery aisles? Tiny and crowded. Sidewalks? Tiny, crowded and filled with potholes and construction that make them uneven. The air? Even on a clear day, walking in my neighborhood of heavy traffic and tall buildings smells like hanging out in a garage with all the cars running and all the drivers smoking. Not ideal for babies to be out and about.

How do moms do it, especially moms with more than one? I can’t imagine toting a double stroller up an escalator or down some stairs.

Well, the way they do it is with a domestic helper, often from the Philippines or Indonesia, and most often (or always?) supporting a child or children who are back home with grandma or an aunt or uncle.

After our first weeks in town, I raised the white flag and surrendered my idea of getting by on my own in this city, which is not set up for moms with little ones to get around easily. We hired a domestic helper who started in December, and while I was nervous about how awkward it would be to manage a full-time employee in our home, I needn’t have been. She is amazing and such a blessing to us, especially in light of a difficult pregnancy.

Our helper has never been out of her country except to live and work in this city.

“Why Hong Kong?” I asked her one day. Filipino domestic helpers are common in many, many places around the world.

“It’s better than Saudi,” she replied.

Point taken.

When I interviewed her, she said the thing she was looking for in an employer was to be treated like a person. Ahem, I think we can manage that.

It truly is a vulnerable thing to hire yourself out to serve a family you don’t really know yet. And since the only strictly legal way to hire a foreign domestic helper in Hong Kong is full-time and live-in, that vulnerability grows exponentially. Especially since Hong Kong apartments are notoriously tiny with no extra room for a helper. Many, many helpers actually sleep in the same room as the children, taking on night duty for babies and toddlers. Just about every family here has a domestic helper, particularly since there is not the daycare structure found in the United States. There really aren't a lot of options, especially when both parents work.

In Hong Kong, as with, I’m sure, many places in the world, there are reports of mistreatment of helpers. I’ve heard of helpers who had to sleep under the dining room table and couldn’t make their bed until the Sir and Ma’am of the house were asleep. That means if the bosses want to stay up until midnight watching a movie in the living room, the helper can’t go to sleep. But she’d better have her bedding out of site by the time the kids wake up. Eek.

Or, some helpers have to sleep on the balcony. Do you know how hot and humid it gets here? And the pollution? Even without a freeze, winter does get chilly, especially for people used to living closer to the equator.

Thankfully, I don’t believe that is the norm, just a risk. And thankfully, there’s a nonprofit organized for the express purpose of limiting abuses and assisting victims.

Most helpers, at least in my building (where the apartments have built-in maids’ quarters with bathroom and shower), seem happy, healthy and friendly.

Another interesting aspect of the helper culture here is that Sunday is the usual day off for every helper. Since these (mostly) women don’t have a place to host their friends, many public spaces are jam packed with helpers hanging out together with others from their home country. They set up flattened cardboard boxes or plastic sheets as picnic blankets and camp out all day long at a park or a beach with buddies, eating and chatting the day away in their native languages.

We’ve had visitors see this phenomenon and tell us later, “I thought maybe they were all homeless people, but they were dressed nicely and had cell phones and good food!”

Super Cars
Hong Kong is known for its banks and stock market, horse races and high rollers. Apparently there are more millionaires per capita here than any other city in the world.

So, amongst the red-and-white taxis, the buses and trams, it is quite common to see super cars stuck in traffic: Ferrari, Maserati, Lotus, Rolls Royce, Lamborghini, Mercedes.

We were driving out of a parking garage recently past an electric BMW charging at a smart car station and noticed a sign for a Tesla supercharger station on the next floor… just before we drove up behind a Porsche 911 Carrera.

For someone who was perfectly happy with a Saturn, I'm surprised to say I now know that sweet, almost musical roar of a Maserati engine firing up.

Hong Kong Moms
Facebook forums are an amazing place to share knowledge, ask questions and seek council from others in the same life stage and/or geographical region. And Hong Kong Moms is a great place for all of that, and a helpful source for news about current events in the city, like the democracy protests last fall or the plight of abused domestic helpers. I was usually the one updating Joe on the latest with the Umbrella Revolution protests, just based on what other Hong Kong moms would share in the group.

But, honestly, I often read the Hong Kong Moms Facebook forum for the drama.

Oh. My. Goodness. Some of the responses are simply not nice.

I’ve seen women ask questions only to draw the comment: “Why would you even ASK something like this?”

Once there was a worked-up woman who posted after having a run-in with a middle-aged lady on the MTR train. She caught the lady with her hand in her purse, gripped around her wallet. To reclaim her wallet, the woman posting gave the older lady an elbow to the face, much to the shock and dismay of everyone on the train. She asked advice on whether to go to the police, and got a variety of responses in the comments, some supportive and others telling her she’d get in trouble for assaulting the woman, despite the attempted theft. As the comment thread continued, the original poster, distraught, went to a bar, got tipsy, and kept posting to argue with the other moms about what she should or shouldn’t have done. It was like a train wreck.

But, on the bright side, along with helpful advice and tips on where to find a suitable pediatric dentist or cute maternity clothes, the network is so far-reaching in Hong Kong that it frequently acts as a giant Lost & Found. A post by a mom who found a cell phone in a taxi’s back seat will pop up minutes after a post by another mom, hunting for the same phone. It’s brilliant.