We need an antidote to the stresses of city living
In a hyper-urbanised city like Hong Kong, it is easy to lose sight of the things that matter. Many of us live and work in high-rise towers sealed from the world around us. We shop and dine and travel in crowds, our senses bombarded by a constant flow of advertising, vehicle exhaust fumes and noise pollution.
Traces of the organic have by and large been pressed to the edges of the city and of our lives. When it comes to our food, many of us do not know where it comes from or how it got to the grocery store or the dinner table.
Thankfully, one family in Tai O is offering the city's frazzled urbanites a way to reconnect with nature and even to get their hands dirty helping to grow the food they eat. There are other organic farms in Hong Kong, and the same back-to-the-earth ethos is to be found in large cities all over the world. What is remarkable about the Fong family and their farm - in a fishing village steeped in history - is that the enterprise is distinctly non-commercial. It is the embodiment of ideals fewer people openly espouse, much less live by.
What started out as a family-tended garden has grown to become something more - a 30,000 sq ft patch that draws visitors from the city every weekend. It provides food for the retired couple and their children and produce to be bartered or given away. At the very least, the farm is a symbol of the industry and ingenuity that transformed Hong Kong from a series of villages much like Tai O into a city with one of the world's most recognisable skylines and an economy to match.
It is also a touching reminder that even in the midst of city life, with all of its complications, it is possible to find contentment in simple pleasures - such as sharing gardening tips or harvesting your own vegetables. The Fongs are blessed and they are more than willing to share their blessings with others. There is a lesson here for all of us who are so busy earning, spending and acquiring our way through life - and a reason not to despair when we hear about the latest community tragedy or controversy.
We have found one family that has turned tending their small plot into a hobby, and in turn an exercise in communitarianism. What the Fongs are doing in Tai O, doubtless others are doing in villages all across Hong Kong, albeit perhaps with different arrangements and on a smaller scale.
As we develop Lantau Island, on which Tai O sits, and as we push the boundaries of the city into the undeveloped countryside, there is a need to protect the cultural history - and the values - embodied in these villages. Tai O, for instance, is one of the few stilt-home settlements left, yet it may find itself in the path of the planned cross-delta bridge.
Such protection goes beyond preserving this heritage for its own sake. These villages, the open spaces and the greenery about them all serve as antidotes to the stresses of city living.
