Still Standing
As high rises and shopping malls swallow up much of Hong Kong’s precious land, one final squatter village has managed to stay standing. June Ng meets the people of Cha Kwo Ling and discovers the secret of their survival. Photos by Cyrus Wong.
Cha Kwo Ling should be a prime location for real estate development. It’s located in Eastern Kowloon, has MTR access, is well connected by public transport, has great views overlooking Victoria Harbour and, from a feng shui perspective, is blessed with a hill behind and the sea in front. Therefore, it is very surprising to discover there’s a ramshackle old village perched on top of a developer’s goldmine. Known as a squatter village, its run-down, almost shantytown-like appearance is due to an influx of mainland refugees into the area during the Civil War in China. They arrived penniless and built cheap, makeshift shacks around the original mining village, causing it to expand into a maze of rickety buildings and dark allies.
Just next door to this uniquely old-fashioned community of around 3,000 people is a huge residential complex called Laguna City in Lam Tin, which was built by one of Hong Kong’s biggest developers. It’s not that big business isn’t interested in the village. Many developers have set their greedy sights on this lucrative land but have fallen at the first hurdle. The secret to the village’s survival: complicated historic ownership rights. In a similar situation to the walled villages in the New Territories, the village is split into dozens of plots of land all owned by different people. The community has therefore managed to preserve its unique and fascinating culture by making its land too complex for anyone to buy.
But as shopping malls sprawl out and apartment blocks tower overhead, no one knows how much longer Cha Kwo Ling village will survive. So what better time to explore the twisted allies and meet Hong Kong’s hidden community? Follow us as we discover traditional food, fascinating cultural rituals and a former mansion that used to house exotic animals.
Mr. Siu
The former animal tamer talks about his father’s crazy dream to build a zoo in Hong Kong.
Mr. Siu grew up in Shanghai where his father worked as a war journalist for the United States Information Service. His grandfather owned a drug manufacturing factory in Canada and when he died, he left them $3 million. Shortly after, in the mid-50s, the family moved to Hong Kong and bought a plot of land in Cha Kwo Ling. Mr. Siu remembers: “$3 million was a lot in that era, you could purchase the whole of Nathan Road with that amount of money. But my dad always dreamt of building a zoo in Hong Kong so we chose to settle in Cha Kwo Ling, so we could have a big place to start importing animals from overseas.” His dad applied to the Agriculture, Fisheries and Conservation Department for a license to keep wild and endangered animals, then started importing animals from Japan, including brown bears, leopards, tigers, and even penguins. “We used to have an arctic pool for the penguins. Everyday we ordered a giant ice cube from the old Dairy Farm Depot.” His dad also owned two elephants which he kept in a spacious courtyard in Tai Po. His dad also insisted that Mr. Siu and his brother should learn animal-taming skills from a circus owner. After weeks of training, he was able to play with a leopard as though it was a cat.
His father spent two decades, and a lot of money, trying to open the zoo but the government refused to issue him a license. By the end, the family had lost a fortune on the failed project and had to wave goodbye to their four cars and private jet. Luckily Mr. Siu’s father was a friend of Deacon Chiu, the owner of the Lai Chi Kok Amusement Park, so the animals were rehomed, included Tino, a famous elephant who will be well known to those Hong Kongers who grew up in the 60s and 70s. “My dad was still resentful of the government up until his last breath,” he says. “But actually I’m a little bit mad with my dad too. All he ever taught me was how to tame animals and nothing else, which isn’t a very useful skill for modern life, and doesn’t help you find a job easily.”
The Siu family’s former mansion is now a complex of small houses used by about 20 family members including his six children, their kids, and his brothers. “I don’t really want to sell my land. I don’t need money urgently, and it’s always good to live on my own land.”