In the 60s I used to go to my then girlfriend’s home every Saturday after work. We took a bus and got off at the bus terminus on Tung Lo Wan Road, from there we walked a couple of blocks under the canopy of some old pre-war buildings (called “Tong Lau”), built circa 1920s with large columns lining the pavements. The ground floors of the buildings were mainly small retail shops including not surprisingly the very traditional Hong Kong Pawn Shop, while the upper floors were residential. We then made a left turn on to Wun Sha Street, a pretty large street with small makeshift stalls lining on both sides. Food produce and housewares were the main items on sale: vegetables, eggs, dried goods, canned food, stationery, newspaper, pots and pans as well as joss sticks and ghost paper money to burn away at the nearby Lin Fa Temple built in 1863. Behind these small stalls were newer residential buildings seven or eight story in height with elevators. The ground floor housed restaurant, Chinese medicine shop, pharmacy, laundry shop, flower shop and meat market where proud butchers busily worked with their cleaver on large heavy wooden blocks. There was a distinct smell of stale and raw meat as the market and street were never washed enough. A heavy rain during the typhoon season was a welcome event to clear away the smell and dirt. The butcher had a special status in the community, everybody paid him a lot of respect as he decided who get the choicest chunk of meat.
A “Tong Lau” built at the turn of last century, with typical huge columns hanging down to the pavement.
Lin Fa Temple built 1863, since renovated, still stands proud today
Better be good to the butcher if you want the choicest chunk of meat.
Hong Kong people ate mostly beef, pork, chicken and fish and they wanted them fresh, not frozen. Vegetables arrived daily from the New Territories but today are mainly imported from mainland China. In spite of the advent of supermarket, there are still today many “wet markets” around the city which carry fresh meat and fresh vegetable.
Hong Kong people like fresh vegetables, now arrived daily mainly from mainland China
There was also a “Tai Pai Dong”, the roadside stall, on Wun Sha Street. Tai Pai Dongs were popular because the food was cheap and good. They became an icon of the food culture in Hong Kong. Wonton noodles, fish balls and Hong Kong style tea were their specialities. We ate there regularly though hygiene left much to be desired. To bring some comfort to ourselves, it was routine to ask for a glass of hot water which we used to rinse our chopsticks and bowls. Remnants of food were routinely spat on the table and floor. Though the table was uncaringly wiped for the next customer, the floor was cleaned only once at close of business.
Tai Pai Dong, once an icon of Hong Kong food culture, almost dying out.
The neighbourhood was called Tai Hang which translates as Big Canal. A small stream once run openly along Wun Sha Street, but today run underneath the street and openly on the other side of Tung Lo Wan Road.
Everybody knew everybody in this neighbourhood, my mother-in-law played mahjong with the neighbours. The community was so close that borrowing salt and sugar from a neighbour was not out of ordinary. The normally short walk along Wun Sha Street became a long walk for my mother-in-law as she could not escape greeting and gossiping along the way.
Wun Sha Street with makeshift stalls, a long walk to my mother-in-law
My mother-in-law lived on the third floor, the balcony served some great purposes including drying clothes
My girlfriend family lived on the third floor of a town house complex, built at the turn of the 20th century, on an elevated terrace, with no elevators. Her home was an end unit which attracted lot of sunlight from three sides. The apartment had a small balcony facing Wun Sha Street from where we could experience the ever bustling street activities. The balcony, like all others, was equipped with bamboo poles for drying clothes. It was not a bother to the residents when we talked to people below from the balcony, however loud or heated the conversation might be. We often lowered a rattan basket down to the street hawkers to pick up goodies, saving a lot of sweat from stair climbing.
Drying clothes on bamboo poles from the balcony, a part of Hong Kong history and heritage
The flat was about 500 square feet. The main door opened into a square living room which led to the kitchen at the back through a narrow corridor. On the right of the corridor were two bed rooms, one for the parents and a smaller room for the girls. The rooms were enclosed by six foot tall wooden panels, this allowed air circulation and sunlight through the unhindered space above the panels. The boys slept on a bunker bed placed against the wall along the corridor. The kitchen was primitive, no range or oven, just a gas stove sitting on a concrete slab. Gas was delivered in heavy metal containers, carried by slim sweaty muscular shop assistants from the corner store. Today some parts of the city still use gas stove, and gas containers are still carried to the residents by shop assistants. There was no air conditioning, only a large ceiling fan in the living room, a luxury in its time. A great comfort to the family was having its own toilet cum bathroom, though tiny it was.
Typical inside of a Tong Lau residence, with six foot tall panels enclosing the bed rooms.
From the window of the main bedroom, we could see a lush green hill with makeshift shacks hanging precariously on the slopes. The dwellers were mainly illegal immigrants who had descended on Hong Kong from mainland China in search of a better life. When typhoons hit the Colony, the dwellers suffered brutally but were grateful if there were no loss of life.
Makeshift shacks hung precariously on the hill side of Tai Hang