One of the joys of life in Hong Kong is that the correctness of my German ancestry is far, far away. There are rules here, but none that have, as yet, got me into as much trouble as during my visits to other countries.
I have not been reprimanded by neighbours for singing at the top of my lungs in the shower, as in Singapore; failing to sort my rubbish into half a dozen piles for recycling, as in Japan; eating while on a six-hour bus ride, as in Australia; or trying to start a lawnmower on a Sunday, as in Germany.
In fact, my only brush with the law in 17 years in this fair city was one Saturday morning when I was awakened, after an especially heavy drinking session, by raised voices and loud crashing noises. Opening my front door, I was confronted by two police officers and half a dozen firemen smashing down the security door with sledgehammers.
While trying to remember what I had done the night before - and wondering how the fire department might have become involved - I was pushed aside. The officers rushed to turn off the flame under a heavily smoking saucepan of charred noodles on the stove, and hastily pushed open the windows.
I was lectured about putting things on to cook and then falling asleep.
Given that fumes in a flat with closed windows are not healthy, I have no complaint about my neighbours calling on expert help.
Such matters aside, laws should be obeyed, no matter where you are or how absurd they appear. Whatever the national variations, though, there is an internationally recognised framework for what we can and cannot get away with, known as the United Nations Universal Declaration of Human Rights.
