As in most modern capitalist cities, religion is not a large part of most people’s lives. The temples are nominally Buddhist, but various other gods and goddesses are enshrined in them. There is also a strong Taoist element. Before Buddhism spread throughout China in the sixth century CE, each region had its favorite local gods and goddesses. Since there is no notion of a right and a wrong way to pray to the higher powers, these local deities can be found along with Buddha and various other Chinese gods in many of the temples.
In Hong Kong, the goddess Tin Hau is a special favorite. She is the goddess of the sea, with a protective responsibility toward all mariners, and fishermen in particular. She is reputed to have been a fisherman’s daughter who was kidnapped and taken in a ship far down the coast. A typhoon blew up, but she calmed the waters and saved the crew. You can find Tin Hau temples in the older fishing areas, notably Shek O, and on the outlying islands.
Another favorite is Kwan Yin, the goddess of mercy. She is entreated by anyone with a problem, and on days when the state lottery is drawn, many supplicants can be seen in her temples. There is a large statue of Kwan Yin in Repulse Bay, alongside the beach.
On the island of Cheung Chau, one of the oldest fishing communities, Pei Ti, god of water and the Spirit of the North, is most revered. He is also supplicated by fishermen, since he has the power to still storms and give good catches.
Unlike the rest of China, Hong Kong has not had any breaks in the religious observances of its people. After the Second World War, many Chinese from religious institutions in China settled in Hong Kong, and several are still there. Buddhist and Christian monasteries were established in the New Territories, particularly on Lantau Island. There is a large Buddhist community in the mountains there, and in 1995 the biggest Buddha in the world was erected on Lantau. It is a very popular place of pilgrimage—this is not a solemn occasion, but an excuse for an enjoyable day out in dramatic scenery. The monastery has a big temple and several gift shops, and offers a reasonably priced vegetarian lunch. Not that the average Hongkonger would eat only vegetables from choice. The special religious vegetarian meal is endured because it might confer merit, and even that includes chunky mushrooms and flavored bean curd that seem to imitate meat. Nominal Buddhists the Hongkongers may be, but vegetarian they are emphatically not, as many visiting veggies have found to their dismay.
Chinese temples are very worldly. Families wander around them, and apart from taking their shoes off before entering the inner temple no particular observances are necessary. Silence is not strictly observed. Animals come and go unhindered. Apart from the smoke from the joss sticks, there is no odor of sanctity, solemnity, or mysticism. Most worshipers will light a bunch of joss sticks and plant them into a sand-filled tub in front of their deity of choice, praying quietly as they do so. There is also a fortune-telling facility in larger temples. A cylindrical box full of long slivers of bamboo is used to obtain your fortune. On each sliver is a number. The petitioner shakes the box repeatedly, and after about half a minute, a sliver of bamboo inexplicably works its way up and out of the box. When it falls out, the petitioner picks it up and takes it to the priest for interpretation. The priest refers to a venerable book, in which each number has a prediction.
When my son was one year old, I went to a temple on the outlying island of Po Toi, south of Hong Kong Island, to hear my fortune. There were no tourists there—just a few older people with serious intent. Leaving the baby with my husband, I shook my can of bamboo sticks. One fell out, and I took it to the old—and non-English-speaking—priest. Helpful locals with a smattering of English translated as he read out, “This is a person asking about a son. This son is like a fertile rice-field (he showed me the character for field, which I recognized), bringing a fair amount of money into the family.” Twenty-five years later, I am proud to announce that this has come true!
Even if organized religion is not a great part of people’s lives, the general philosophy of life evolved in China, with Buddhist, Taoist, and Confucian elements, underpins traditional life to some extent. A holistic approach to the body and nature underlies most people’s beliefs. In traditional medicine, exercise, and eating, the concept of chi, or energy flow (see Tai Chi, below), prevails.
It is also a truism that Hongkongers don’t have a religion, they just have luck. Certainly there are a lot of quasi-religious practices that may be termed superstitions, particularly surrounding business and money. As you walk through the Hong Kong streets, you will often see huge flower- and ribbon-decked decorations arranged in front of a doorway. On closer inspection, you will see that a business is opening in that building today, and that the red or pink ribbons are inscribed with lucky wishes for the new restaurant or shop.
The business owner will have gone through many propitious deeds before the moment of opening. The feng shui (see below) of the building and of the space within it will have to be approved by a consultant. Furniture and ornaments will be chosen and placed with their recommendations in mind. Astrological predictions for the prosperity of the enterprise will be noted. Certain Chinese years (see Chinese Astrology, below) are more conducive than others to making a lot of money, and there is a relationship between your own year of birth and the current one to take into account. Numbers (see Numerology, below) are of importance too—an unlucky telephone number or car registration can be blamed for all sorts of business problems. Probably a traditional business owner will make a donation at the local temple, or even visit the big Buddha, just to tip the scales in his favor.
There are several flourishing Christian Churches and foundations in Hong Kong. Because of previous intolerance of Christianity in mainland China, several missions and religious bodies relocated to Hong Kong after 1950, and many are still there today. In addition, Christian schools and hospitals were established, providing good education and medicine at relatively low prices for the local population, and many of these schools are still regarded as the best in the territory.
About 10 percent of the population belong to one of the Christian Churches.
Anglicans and Episcopalians are served by the cathedral in Central Hong Kong, Christ Church in Kowloon, and several other churches. Catholics, whose numbers have been greatly swelled by the population of Filipina domestic workers, have their cathedral close to the Anglican one, and nearly fifty churches throughout the territory.
Baptists are so well represented that they have a whole university to themselves in Kowloon, as well as churches, schools, and a hospital. The Seventh-Day Adventists, too, have a college and two hospitals in addition to their churches. Latter Day Saints (Mormons) also have a strong following.
Islam is also represented in the territory, with five mosques. The Muslim community in Hong Kong numbers about 70,000, about 1 percent of the total population. More than half are Chinese and many others are from Pakistan, Indonesia, and Malaysia.
Since the handover, religious freedom has continued to flourish, and the introduction of a holiday to mark Buddha’s birthday has been seen as an improvement in relations between the government and religious bodies. Missionaries of all faiths can operate with no interference, and all the religious charitable institutions are thriving too.
In Cantonese, feng shui is pronounced “fung sui,” and it is literally translated as “wind, water.” Its general tenet, that man should live in harmony with nature, has spread its influence in the West in the last few decades. In its most basic application, feng shui is used to determine where to build a house, workplace, or temple. The compass was invented in China not for navigation, but for feng shui.
Hong Kong is the best place to find out about this four-thousand-year-old philosophy. The mainland Chinese government outlawed the practice of feng shui after the Revolution, in their bid to prevent “opiates of the people” sapping the drive to work hard for a Communist state. There is still official disapproval of anything regarded as superstitious. But in Hong Kong it flourished, and continues to do so. There are said to be more than ten thousand feng shui experts in Hong Kong and many of them have amassed tidy fortunes and glittering reputations.
Through the ages feng shui has acquired many extra areas of influence, so that every aspect of living and working space is susceptible to its energy. A house with its back to a wooded hill (for shelter) with an open outlook to the south over water (for light and air) is regarded by most people—not just the Chinese—as more desirable than a house in a damp hollow with hills in front of it, exposed to cold winds at the back. A river or a pond will increase wealth—undoubtedly true for arable farms and for fish or duck rearing. Villages in the New Territories still have feng shui woods behind them, which will protect them from wind or landslides. Thus far the Western property developer would agree, but feng shui goes much further than this. It addresses not only a building’s proximity to natural features and other buildings, but also the shape and material of the building, shapes of rooms, positioning of doors, windows, and furniture, and even where in a room flowers or trinkets should be put. And it is all to harness the power of luck.
In Hong Kong, feng shui is widely practiced, and feng shui masters are in great demand and extremely well paid. At first glance, you might see that an astonishing number of buildings may benefit from the basic requirements of “hill behind, water in front,” as the steep slopes of the Peak on Hong Kong Island and the hills of Kowloon and the New Territories provide just that. However, it can also be seen that buildings are crowded into the flatter areas with a concentration that no other city can match. Of necessity, these buildings are not sited in auspicious places, so the original tenets of feng shui have been stretched and bent to accommodate the needs of the people to maximize their luck.
The World’s Most Expensive Tree?
Not only hills and rivers provide feng shui protection. Trees are important too. When Swire Properties were planning a huge shopping complex at Pacific Place, over the Admiralty MTR station, they encountered problems with a 130-year-old banyan tree, solidly rooted in the middle of their proposed development. They promised that it would be preserved at all costs. Cost was right – the “concrete flower pot” that eventually had to be constructed around it cost around HK $24 million (about US $3 million)—not counting the time spent by staff on its upkeep!
Although Central, the modern business district, is regarded by feng shui experts as adequately protected, the original area of British commerce was not so lucky. It was in a flat and mosquito-infested marshy area, misnamed Happy Valley. There was a bad outbreak of malaria in the mid-nineteenth century, which the Chinese workers living there blamed on the inauspicious feng shui. Gradually, business moved to the luckier area a couple of miles down the road.
The area of Central where most banks and prestigious firms have their headquarters is reputedly situated on a dragon’s vein, which brings a lot of luck and wealth. When the Hongkong and Shanghai Bank was built, great care was taken to make the most of this lucky vein. The shape of the bank apparently suggests a laughing Buddha, and the governors of the bank ensured a clear view to the harbor (and the money it represents) by paying for a recreational square and underground parking in front of it. Escalators taking visitors to the main banking hall are strangely curved—again for feng shui reasons.
Uphill from the Hongkong Bank, and also on the rich vein, is the Bank of China, designed by I. M. Pei. The design is, however, not respected by feng shui experts. It is based on triangles, which are inauspicious in themselves. It is to the surroundings that the bank presents the most menace, however. In particular, it has a very sharp corner pointing directly toward Government House and the Central Government Offices. Such a corner is thought to be like a dagger pointing at the heart of the Hong Kong administration. Before the advent of the Bank of China, Government House was auspiciously located and oriented. Could it be that even in the early days of British rule, feng shui was taken into account?
Another corner of the Bank of China points toward the Legislative Council building, where parliament is based. As if that weren’t bad enough, the two projecting masts, or “chopsticks,” on top of the building point upward, resembling nothing so closely as the incense sticks used to honor the dead.
Color schemes, rearrangement of furniture, and other measures can be recommended to counter chronic bad luck. Moving house or offices is a last resort in hard times.
Westerners in Hong Kong have also succumbed to the “insurance” mentality of feng shui believers. You may as well get it right, just in case. When Marks & Spencer first came to the territory, it didn’t do very well, but after the feng shui expert had recommended tactically placed lights, wooden turtles, and fish tanks, sales picked up. A branch of McDonald’s in Kowloon is reputed to have a tank of piranha fish—quite a draw in itself, one might think, as a curiosity!
The Hong Kong Tourist Association offers feng shui tours of some of the most obvious landmarks of this ubiquitous practice.
Luckily, a relatively cheap means of protecting yourself against neighboring buildings and other inauspicious things exists. All you have to do is hang a small, hexagonal mirror, called a bat gwa mirror, in such a way that it reflects the bad luck back to its source. The theory is that an evil being will be repelled by seeing itself in such a mirror. Making sure the sea or other water is reflected in a bat gwa mirror, on the other hand, can increase the financial fortunes of a company. Since water represents money (and sui, water, is the slang term for money), you may notice that most banks and businesses have water features somewhere about the buildings, or at least a fish tank in the lobby.
Numbers have always fascinated scholars in every culture, and Chinese numerology is complicated and subtle. It goes with feng shui. Personal numerology is usually based on birth date, but numbers come into everyday life in many ways, and all the numbers in your life have significance.
The sort of numerology that visitors may come across in Hong Kong is centered in the sounds of the words in Cantonese:
Yi (two) sounds like the word for “easy.”
Saam (three) sounds like the word for “alive,” or “lifelong.”
Sei (four) sounds like the word for “death.”
Baat (eight) sounds like the word for “prosperity.”
Sapsaam (thirteen) sounds like “sure life.”
By extension, twenty-four sounds like “easy to die,” and so is considered very unlucky; 28 sounds like “easy prosperity,” so is very fortunate; 138 sounds like “prosperity all your life,” and 168 like “everlasting prosperity”—and you can’t get luckier than that.
The Luck in Numbers
A friend with a lot of fours in his telephone number was warned to change it. A particular office telephone number meant “Luck, lots of luck, all along the road luck.” Car license plates with lucky numbers are sold for enormous sums.
Like its Western counterpart, Chinese astrology divides people into twelve basic types, although there are several subdivisions. Instead of being based on the month and date of the year in which you are born, the Chinese system looks at the year of birth. Each year is named after an animal, and begins at Chinese New Year—between one and two months after January 1. Each animal has its own characteristics, which are not always the ones you might expect.
As with Western astrology, the origins of the twelve-animal system are lost in the mists of time. There is a charming legend, however.
The Jade King of Heaven was feeling a little bored, and decided he wanted to see some representatives of the animal kingdom on Earth. Envoys were sent to Earth to produce twelve assorted animals.
The first to be invited were the Cat and the Rat. The Rat didn’t want the Cat to come, for obvious reasons, so tricked him out of his invitation. Ten others were invited too: the Ox, the Tiger, the Rabbit, the Dragon, the Snake, the Horse, the Goat (or Ram), the Monkey, the Cock (or Rooster), and the Dog. They duly appeared and presented themselves in front of the Jade King’s palace; but the King noticed that there were only eleven. An envoy was sent down for another animal, and the first thing he saw was someone carrying a Pig, so that was added to the others.
The Rat, inclined to show off, hopped on to the back of the Ox, and played a tune on his flute. The Jade King, impressed, gave Rat the first place in the line, followed by the patient Ox. He liked the courage of the Tiger, and put it third, and then the rest in order: Rabbit, Dragon, Snake, Horse, Goat, Monkey, Cock, Dog, and Pig.
So every twelve years there is a new cycle, starting with the Rat, who is the cleverest in the zodiac. However, in Vietnam, they claim that the Cat took the year that the Chinese give to the Rabbit! But their characteristics are the same.
The characteristics of people born in different years are, roughly, as follows:
Rat: clever, charming, imaginative; can be conspiratorial.
Ox: straightforward, kind, patient; can be dull.
Tiger: courageous, loyal, honorable; can be critical.
Rabbit: diplomatic, peace-loving, intuitive; can be indecisive.
Dragon: magnetic, dynamic, lucky; can be intolerant.
Snake: elegant, self-contained, perceptive; can be obstinate.
Horse: enthusiastic, flexible, cheerful; can be impatient.
Goat: creative, sensitive, imaginative; can be irresponsible.
Monkey: independent, sociable, shrewd; can be manipulative.
Cock: flamboyant, obliging, resilient; can be vain.
Dog: humane, tolerant, idealistic; can be anxious.
Pig: easy-going, sympathetic, sensual; can be spendthrift.
Because the Lunar New Year starts on a different calendar date each year, it is difficult for people with January and February birthdays to calculate their animal year without a special table. For the others, it is enough to know that the Year of the Rat started in early 1900 and recurs every twelve years.
There are five elements in the Chinese system, and therefore each year has a secondary name: Earth, Fire, Water, Metal, and Wood. Each combination recurs only once in sixty years. The year 1966 was the year of the Fire Horse, and children born in this year are thought to be wild and uncontrollable. There were significantly fewer births in Hong Kong that year than in the other years in the decade.
Each year has its own character, and astrologers in Hong Kong are quick to point out the advantages and disadvantages of each year as it turns. For the record, there have been about 4,702 Chinese years to date.
You may, if you are an early riser or plagued by jet lag, find a surprising number of people out and about at 6:00 a.m. The parks and open areas will certainly be host to groups of people, many of them elderly, practicing the ancient art of tai chi. Originally, like most of the three hundred different styles of bodywork, tai chi was a martial art. It emphasizes stability of the body, and does not have the high-energy kicks of the kung fu movies. Tai chi (translated as “great ultimate”) is characterized by being gentle and yielding. You can become mesmerized watching the slow, focused movements. They have the qualities of a flowing river, yielding to the solid and fixed, sweeping away the weak and unstable.
Chi, or qi, is the energy flow within all living things, sometimes defined as “that which distinguishes the living from the dead.” If this flow is blocked, weak, or out of balance, you will become ill—physically, mentally, or spiritually. The term chi gung (qigong) means “chi work” and is used as a blanket term for all exercises that work on the chi. It works from the outside of the body inward—so that when you have done the regime of physical exercises, you should be feeling healthier internally, both in body and spirit. It is “a path and not a destination,” so is practiced as a daily ritual to ensure a healthy, balanced life. It may be said that the Chinese believe in chi as a kind of universal life force, and that this force has been externalized in other cultures and named “God.”
The Origin of Tai Chi
Tai chi is alleged to have been founded by a Taoist mystic and hermit, Chang San-feng, who probably lived in the thirteenth century in central China. The legend has it that Master Chang was out walking in the forest when he saw a snake engaged in a fight with a crane. Chang was impressed at the ingenious way the snake was able to feint, elude, and counterattack the large, powerful bird. That night, the art of tai chi came to him in a dream.
Hong Kong people work hard, but their calendar is liberally sprinkled with holidays, both Chinese and Western. There are twelve statutory paid holidays a year* to which employees are entitled, and there are several additional causes for celebration throughout the year.
| January 1 | New Year’s Day* |
| Jan/Feb | Three days at Lunar (or Chinese) New Year* |
| Mar/Apr | Ching Ming* |
| Three days at Easter | |
| May 1 | Labor Day* |
| May | The Buddha’s Birthday* |
| May/June | Tuen Ng, or Dragonboat Festival* |
| July 1 | Hong Kong SAR Establishment Day* |
| October 1 | Chinese National Day |
| September | Day following the Mid-Autumn Festival* |
| October | Chung Yeung* |
| December | Chinese Winter Solstice Festival (Dong Zhi), or Christmas Day in lieu* |
By far the most important festival is the Lunar or Chinese New Year, which marks the beginning of spring. Beware of planning anything at this time—most people do not work over the three days, and banks and businesses will be firmly shut. Chinese New Year falls on a different date each year, but it corresponds to the new moon between mid-January and mid-February, and lasts three days.
As in Scotland, the first person you meet must bring you luck. In Hong Kong’s case, a red-clad person would be especially lucky. Red or colored songbirds are also a good omen.
The first and second days of the celebrations are a time for family reunions, and the streets are quiet on these days. Traditionally, a religious thanksgiving for Heaven, Earth, and the family accompanies the gatherings. The most important focus of this is the union of the ancestors with the living members of the family. Ancestors are deeply respected, because they laid the foundations of each family, and are felt to be still with the family in spirit. They are honored with a special New Year’s Eve dinner. On the third day of New Year, people can leave their families and go out and have fun.
The New Year symbolizes sweeping away the old and adopting the new. Debts must be paid and houses cleaned by the end of the old year, so that a new start can be made. On the stroke of midnight on New Year’s Eve, every door and window in the house must be open to allow the old year out. Firecrackers and other fireworks welcome the new one in.
There is a feeling that anything that happens on the first day of the year will continue for the whole year. So positive language and laughter are encouraged, and arguing, crying, and dwelling on the past are avoided. Children and younger relatives as well as unmarried friends are given laisee, little red envelopes with crisp new banknotes inside, for good fortune. Patriarchs of families and important people in the community will have dozens of these red packets at their disposal so that they can dispense good fortune far and wide.
Probably more food is consumed during the New Year celebrations than at any other time of the year. On New Year’s Day, Chinese families eat a vegetarian dish called jai. Other foods include a whole fish, to represent togetherness and abundance, and a whole chicken for prosperity. Noodles should not be cut, as they represent long life. Desserts made of sweet, glutinous rice are very popular in Cantonese cuisine.
Also known as the Grave-sweeping Festival, or Spring Remembrance, Ching Ming takes place at the third moon. Chinese families visit the graves of their ancestors to clear away weeds, tidy the area, light incense, and make offerings of wine and fruit. The day is celebratory in feel—more like a picnic than a solemn memorial.
Chung Yeung, which occurs six months later, is Autumn Remembrance, so much the same sort of thing happens. It is also traditionally good to go up into the hills at Chung Yeung, because there is a legend about a man who was advised to take his family to a high place for the ninth day of the ninth month. When they returned, they found that their village had been destroyed by enemies.
Worshipers show their devotion by washing Buddha’s statues. Vegetarian meals are eaten. Celebrations center on the major temples and monasteries in Hong Kong.
This is special to Hong Kong. It takes place at the full moon of the fourth month, usually in May. The villagers of Cheung Chau, an island with an ancient fishing community, erect huge bamboo towers near the Pak Tai Temple. On the towers are fixed sweet buns together with effigies of three gods. For three days the islanders become vegetarian. On the final day a colorful procession winds through the village streets. Children, elaborately costumed and made up, are supported on tiny seats held up by adults. They look as though they are standing on top of poles. They make their way to the temple where, for safety reasons, the old practice of climbing the towers to seize the buns has been discontinued. The buns are distributed in a more orderly fashion after a religious ceremony.
This has now become known internationally as the Dragon Boat Festival, although the races were inaugurated only in 1976. Over a hundred teams from across the globe participate in the waters around Hong Kong. After the locals have raced, the event becomes an international open. The main competitions take place on Shing Mun River, at Sha Tin in the New Territories. Teams of twenty-two or twenty-four paddle their long, elaborately carved, colorful boats to the beat of heavy drums. The boats have dragon’s heads and tails.
The festival commemorates the death of a popular national hero, Qu Yuan, who drowned himself during the third century BC, in protest against a corrupt government. As locals tried to rescue him, they beat drums to scare fish away and threw dumplings into the sea to keep the fish from eating his body. During the festival, people eat rice-and-meat dumplings wrapped in bamboo leaves.
Another excuse for a family reunion occurs on the fifteenth day of the eighth month of the lunar calendar. This is the Mid-Autumn Festival, Moon Festival, or Lantern Festival. The full moon’s shape symbolizes the family circle. The special food associated with this festival is a moon cake, a sweet, heavy cake with a filling of sugar, fat, sesame, lotus seeds, walnut, and a golden egg yolk, which is reminiscent of the moon. To eat their moon cakes, families gather on hillsides, carrying colorful paper lanterns in various animal or vehicle shapes, and view the moon.
Hong Kong has plenty of warning signs everywhere, and there is no excuse for ignoring them. There are quite a number of different prohibitions, although the sign of a pig with a red line across it (“No animals”) that used to decorate the MTR in the early days has, alas, gone.
Many public places and offices as well as the MTR ban smoking, so ask before you light up.
Cell phones are also becoming less tolerated in Western-style restaurants, so pay attention to signs.
