Last days of Sky Street, Shamshuipo
In the worn and tattered heart of Shamshuipo there lies a street, but no ordinary back alley. You won't find it on any road atlas or postman's round. This particular street is located seven floors up, running between the patchwork of illegal rooftop structures, with all the appearance of a bustling alley, complete with a communal kitchen, the smell of spices, noisy residents and stray cats.
The rooftop street, as it is fondly referred to, lies in the middle of an urban renewal project at Po On Road and Wai Wai Road that was announced in 2003. Since then, most of the residents have moved on, and white notices festoon their front doors announcing Urban Renewal Authority ownership.
But while the block is deserted, the rooftop street remains a thoroughfare, with most of the residents holding out in the hope of compensation when they are finally evicted from their illegal structures. They have, to date, received no advice from the government other than telling them to leave.
'This will all be forgotten,' laments Siu King-chung, a professor at Polytechnic University's School of Design.
'Whether the structures are illegal or not, they reflect a part of Hong Kong's history. The ecology caused by the fussiness of regulations, the immigration trends of the 1950s and 1960s, the knowledge people garnered from the streets and used to build their own huts, is the kind of history the government seems to want to forget.'
Professor Siu is a member of the Community Museum Project, a group of architects, designers and students who use their free time to explore and document community culture for display to the public.
The rooftop strikes a chord with Professor Siu, whose parents immigrated in the 1950s and had to learn quickly how to adapt to survive on the streets of Hong Kong, much like the residents who have made themselves at home in their elevated shanty town.
It also resonates with fellow volunteer Maggie Chau Yee-mei, whose parents operate a soon-to-be-closed garage out of the ground floor below, and who shares Professor Siu's concerns that the city's history is being demolished to make way for development.
'We don't know how to appreciate our own culture,' Ms Chau says. 'When we were first told about the renewal, people thought they had done something wrong. That is why I got involved in this project. We wanted to show the residents how special the community is that they've developed. We also want to set an example that may influence policy in the future.'
The project involves creating a visual display of the old blocks.
They also hope to run cultural tours to the roof, leading tourists away from discount computer products up seven flights of worn stairs for a view of history.
Kwan Hung-yee, 34, who rents her hut for $1,000 a month, says she will miss the friendly neighbourhood that helped her through the difficult times following her arrival from the mainland in 2002.
'There was real community spirit. Everyone cooked together, ate together, took care of each other when we were sick. I was able to take care of my two cats. I don't think I will find a place like it again, at least not in Hong Kong.'
But not everyone is sorry to go. Lai Chu, 80, bought his two-storey tin shed for $1,400 in 1970, but says he won't be able to climb the ladder to get into bed in two years' time.
'These buildings aren't antiques, they're falling apart. If we tried to preserve everything we would never move forward.'
