So Hong Kong: why rush hour on the MTR is a metaphor for life in our city
The competition for seats, jostling for position, the mavericks who take direction signs as merely a suggestion, the efficiently crammed coaches – this is laissez-faire Hong Kong in motion
Like most Hongkongers, I have a love/hate relationship with the MTR. If I’m not in a hurry, taking a tram, ferry or bus (mini or otherwise) is preferable, and you get a view. If I am in a rush, taxis are still mostly reliable (despite the controversy of drivers overcharging, and the used tissues in the handle).
Still, the MTR meets much of my transport needs. I take it because it is fast, efficient and, if a luggage-toting tourist blocks my path to the train as the dot-dot-dot sounds to close the door, I know another one is coming in a couple of minutes.
On the other hand, the Admiralty platform during rush hour is probably one level of hell above having flesh torn off your skin and hot pokers stuck into your eyeballs. The stifling mass of humanity, lack of civility and aggressive grannies refusing to let you off before pushing their way onto the train all conspire to cause rider rage.
I try to be philosophical, though, when squished in next to a sweaty guy playing Candy Crush at full volume. After all, the MTR is a microcosm of Hong Kong society. As a city, we are all about being economical and efficient, so it makes sense to pack as many of us into as small a space as possible.
Similarly, everyone elbowing each other to get on the escalator is normal local behaviour in the context of social competition. If I manage to butt in front of you it’s just business, nothing personal. After all, everyone is in a hurry – and everyone wants a seat.