• About
  • Collage
  • Fauna
  • Flora
  • Landscapes
  • Looks
  • Radio
  • sketchy stuff

M.T. Karthik

~ midcareer archive, 1977 – 2017 plus 2022

M.T. Karthik

Monthly Archives: February 1991

British Hong Kong, 1991

05 Tuesday Feb 1991

Posted by mtk in Asia, essay, travel

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

1991, Chung, hk, hong, Karthik, King, kong, kowloon, m.t., mansions, mtk, Nathan Road, Shui, Tsa, Tsim

This story begins lying on its back in a small, one- bedroom hole in a creaking, dripping, grey, 18-story building in Tsim Sha Tsui, Hong Kong.

There, on a morning that would turn into a beautiful spring day, I wake up and hear the sound of rats scurrying around in the dark, and the sounds of wheels turning and gears clicking. I hear unnamed sounds.

I get up, pack my stuff, throw it on my back and go down to the first floor of the Chung King Mansions. This volatile, multicultural conglomeration of dirt, sweat and international odors stands just off Nathan Road in Kowloon surrounded by rows of pricy hotels: The Peninsula, The Hilton, The Hong Kong Empire.

The Chung King hostels have been the cheap place to stay for the shoestring traveler since the 1970’s. Other than brief alterations due to fires that have erupted in its corridors over the years, it hasn’t changed.

Out front, there are Indians and Iranians, bearded and red-eyed, sitting on the street railing. Foreigners from every corner of the globe are walking by. The little Chinese guy with the $8.00 USA Todays and Penthouses and Time and Newsweek and Rolling Stone, is unrolling his papers and magazines.

At dawn, the crowd are all hanging around wrapped in cotton, ear-ringed, nose-ringed, tattoed, goateed. They are either leaving for work or just getting in from play. Several of the turbaned Sikhs are asking me if I want a good place to stay or great Indian food or to go to the best restaurant in Chung King. The rest of them hover around the moneychangers offering black market rates. A German couple is buying watches, a Canadian is buying Nikes, a Frenchman is selling perfume. It’s early and a lot of people are just getting going.

Traffic is still light. Light for here. The sidewalks are peppered with people. Bright red doubledecker buses and taxis glide by. There are light, low-lying clouds over the bay. It is a bit dewy, but you can smell the sun behind those drops, burning the clouds away. The blue sky is already cracking through. By 10:00 it will be 30 degrees.

And on this morning, as I look across the street at the Hilton, I see an anachronism. He’s an elderly Chinese man with greying temples under a flat, grey, Maoist cap. His rope buttons are worn and his ancient Chinese clothes are from a time before all of this.

The free port of Hong Kong rises around him. Six major hotels. More foreigners than Chinese. So many shops. Everybody here is either buying or selling. And he, clearly, is not.

He stands in the middle of all this looking completely foreign, and he begins to fight it.

Standing on the corner of Nathan road in front of the Hilton, he is screaming at the top of his lungs probably the only two English words he knows. Probably the two words he learned expressly for this purpose. He is standing on the street corner screaming and throwing his hands up, hitting the sky with his fists and begging:

“Go Back! Go Back! Gooooo Baaaaack! Go Back!”

His voice is cracking now. He cannot keep this up. These two words are booming down the street in the quiet morning calm; kicking back and forth off The Peninsula, off Chung King Mansions, through the corridors and dripping alleyways:

“Go Back! Gooooo Baaaaaack!”

His voice is coarse and harsh now breaking and cracking. And still he screams. It’s been about five minutes and now I’m standing beside him.

He isn’t looking at me. He isn’t looking at anyone. Unfocused, his eyes open and close with the jerking of his head and hands as he puts every ounce of energy into his request.

I stay put and now I am looking at everyone else.

They stare at him, they smile and they continue to walk. Another Chinese man is standing a few feet away clicking in Cantonese and laughing at the old man. A young couple respond to him and they all laugh. A group of white businessmen walks, uninterested. Another man videotapes from across the street.

In front of Chung King, the Indians, Iranians and other foreigners look over for a time and then go about their business. Now they are looking at me. They look long and hard. My pack is slipping. I hitch it up and turn and walk away.

M.T. Karthik

This blog archives early work of M.T. Karthik, who took every photograph and shot all the video here unless otherwise credited.

Performances and installations are posted by date of execution.

Writing appears in whatever form it was originally or, as in the case of poems or journal entries, retyped faithfully from print.

all of it is © M.T. Karthik

a minute of rain

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QYLHNRS8ik4

Top Categories

2022 Asia baseball birds Coastal Cali collage elections essay fauna flora GBC Readers India installations journalism landscape Los Angeles music video North Oakland NYC performance photography poetry politics protest reviews S.F. short film social media thoughts travel

MTK on Twitter

My Tweets

other mtk projects

  • an SF Giants Fan
  • current Youtube
  • first Youtube site 2007
  • MTK on Vimeo
  • Rocky Pt Recharge Zone
  • SF Mayoral Campaign 2011
  • Yesterday's Hoops 2010

Archives

  • December 2022
  • November 2022
  • October 2022
  • September 2022
  • August 2022
  • July 2022
  • June 2022
  • May 2022
  • April 2022
  • March 2022
  • January 2022
  • December 2017
  • November 2017
  • October 2017
  • September 2017
  • August 2017
  • July 2017
  • June 2017
  • May 2017
  • April 2017
  • March 2017
  • February 2017
  • January 2017
  • December 2016
  • November 2016
  • October 2016
  • September 2016
  • August 2016
  • July 2016
  • June 2016
  • May 2016
  • April 2016
  • March 2016
  • February 2016
  • November 2015
  • September 2015
  • August 2015
  • July 2015
  • June 2015
  • October 2014
  • August 2014
  • July 2014
  • June 2014
  • May 2014
  • April 2014
  • November 2013
  • September 2013
  • June 2013
  • May 2013
  • April 2013
  • December 2012
  • November 2012
  • October 2012
  • September 2012
  • August 2012
  • July 2012
  • June 2012
  • May 2012
  • April 2012
  • March 2012
  • February 2012
  • January 2012
  • December 2011
  • November 2011
  • October 2011
  • September 2011
  • August 2011
  • July 2011
  • June 2011
  • May 2011
  • April 2011
  • March 2011
  • February 2011
  • January 2011
  • December 2010
  • November 2010
  • October 2010
  • August 2010
  • July 2010
  • June 2010
  • April 2010
  • October 2009
  • July 2009
  • June 2009
  • May 2009
  • April 2009
  • November 2008
  • October 2008
  • April 2008
  • January 2008
  • November 2007
  • October 2007
  • July 2007
  • May 2007
  • April 2007
  • March 2007
  • February 2007
  • January 2007
  • December 2006
  • November 2006
  • September 2006
  • February 2006
  • January 2006
  • December 2005
  • November 2005
  • October 2005
  • September 2005
  • August 2005
  • April 2005
  • February 2005
  • January 2005
  • December 2004
  • November 2004
  • August 2004
  • June 2004
  • April 2004
  • December 2003
  • October 2003
  • September 2003
  • March 2003
  • February 2003
  • December 2002
  • November 2002
  • October 2002
  • September 2002
  • May 2002
  • April 2002
  • September 2001
  • July 2001
  • June 2001
  • February 2001
  • November 2000
  • August 2000
  • June 2000
  • March 2000
  • December 1999
  • October 1999
  • July 1999
  • June 1999
  • April 1999
  • March 1999
  • October 1998
  • July 1998
  • June 1998
  • May 1998
  • April 1998
  • February 1998
  • January 1998
  • December 1997
  • November 1997
  • October 1997
  • September 1997
  • August 1997
  • June 1997
  • March 1997
  • January 1997
  • December 1996
  • November 1996
  • October 1996
  • September 1996
  • August 1996
  • July 1996
  • May 1996
  • April 1996
  • March 1996
  • February 1996
  • December 1995
  • November 1995
  • October 1995
  • September 1995
  • August 1995
  • June 1995
  • May 1995
  • February 1995
  • January 1995
  • October 1994
  • September 1994
  • August 1994
  • May 1994
  • August 1993
  • August 1992
  • April 1992
  • November 1991
  • February 1991
  • December 1988
  • October 1984
  • May 1982
  • July 1981
  • April 1977

Blog at WordPress.com.

  • Follow Following
    • M.T. Karthik
    • Join 52 other followers
    • Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
    • M.T. Karthik
    • Customize
    • Follow Following
    • Sign up
    • Log in
    • Report this content
    • View site in Reader
    • Manage subscriptions
    • Collapse this bar
Privacy & Cookies: This site uses cookies. By continuing to use this website, you agree to their use.
To find out more, including how to control cookies, see here: Cookie Policy