Hong Kong is home, for better or worse
Peter Kammerer says his physical and emotional ties make him a bona fide Hongkonger, with no plans to leave short of a catastrophe
Hong Kong is a fleeting place for a lot of people. Those who come for holidays spend a few days, foreigners seeking an Asian adventure perhaps six or 12 months and expatriates a few years. Then there are those like me, who liked the place and stayed, gained permanent residency and, all these years later, think of this city as home. It's a concept that many Chinese, both here and in Beijing, seem to have a problem getting their heads around.
Strangers more often than not ask me where I'm from. My response of "Hong Kong" has them following up with a clarification of, "No, what country?" I respond that this is my home, I've lived more than half my life in this city, but I was born in Australia. I can tell they're not satisfied; how can a foreigner call a Chinese city home?
Easy enough - it's called immigration. People do it all the time for economic reasons, to escape conflicts or persecution, to reunite with family members or simply to change their surroundings. It's why several hundred thousand Chinese, Indians and Vietnamese call Australia home. Large proportions of Western countries are comprised of immigrants and they are openly embraced by communities, yet in Hong Kong, such people are treated as - well, foreigners.
I don't think of myself as such - I am a citizen of Hong Kong, a taxpayer who contributes to this city, gives to its charities and helps with its development. I am a participant, not a bystander. I am as much a Hongkonger as the next man, woman or child.
It's because Hong kong is my home that recent political developments have not shaken my faith in the future. I could live in the European Union or Australia, where property would be more affordable, the food fresher, the air cleaner, the life less cramped. But I'm part of this city; a ruling from Beijing on how citizens can vote for the chief executive is not a reason for me to head elsewhere.
Do I care about whether I can have a say in how Hong Kong is governed? Yes, although I have yet to know of a political system that is genuinely free, fair and open and serves all of the people all of the time. Do I worry about Occupy Central? No; the internet and telephones long ago meant that physically going to an office is no longer absolutely necessary, so only luxury shops and expensive restaurants, not finance and business, will be affected should such a protest ever go ahead. Am I passionate about free speech and media freedom? Of course, although no matter where we live and work, there is always a restriction of one sort or another on what can be said and written.
Arguably, political decisions affect all we do; they are behind the fares on public transport, what we can and can't buy, our recreation. Pro-Beijing and pan-democrat forces have undeniably made Hong Kong a political place. Being a journalist in such an environment means politics is impossible to avoid. But as soon as I leave the office, I can genuinely say that the tussle between the pro this or that side has no direct impact on my daily life.
My connection to Hong Kong is not fleeting. I have foreign passports, but I also have strong physical and emotional ties. When I land at the airport, I still sigh deeply and note to myself that I'm home. It would take a catastrophe to make me leave.
