Mo Lai Yan-chi
When stage actress, documentary and short film maker Mo Lai Yan-chi was named as one of the city’s Ten Outstanding Young Persons, many were surprised. Mo has regularly criticized the government throughout her 10-year career—in fact, one of her short films is about Choi Yuen Village, which was demolished to make way for the express rail to Guangzhou. She talks to Grace Tsoi about her turbulent childhood, art and social activism.
I was born in Hong Kong, and when I was one month old, I was sent to a village on the mainland. My parents were divorced, and an old granny, a distant relative, took care of me.
The rural life that I had before the age of six had a huge impact on me. As a child, I saw something really beautiful—it feels like I once lived in paradise. I think I am very lucky that I did not live in Hong Kong during my formative years. It’s just natural for someone to yearn for material wellbeing if you were born and grew up in a materialistic place.
In the beginning, I thought that I was abandoned by my parents because I was as useless as rubbish. I once said to the granny, “I am more useless than crap!” She told me that she stored our excrement—as we had no toilets—and the vegetables I was eating were grown from the soil fertilized by it. She taught me that there is no rubbish in the world and the nature works in a cycle of balance.
That’s why I have strong feelings for Choi Yuen Village. When I went to the village, I saw many fields and the rural, self-sufficient life. That’s the paradise where I once lived as a child. I was very scared that it would all would be lost, and I was determined to do something [for the village]. That’s why I made “1+1.”
If a city does not have agriculture, it is no different from paving the way for a nuclear explosion. Hong Kong is a place that disdains farming. If a natural catastrophe were to happen, Hong Kong would be the first place to perish.
I returned to Hong Kong at age six, and I was adopted. I didn’t call my guardians “father” and “mother.” They were already in their 60s when they adopted me. Given their age, they knew that we could only live together for ten to 15 years, so they wanted me to be independent. We led a disciplined life. When I went home, it didn’t feel like going home—it felt like returning to a training school. I never watched TV. I only got to watch the news and BBC.
I saw my birth parents. I couldn’t even call them father and mother. Soap operas are all fake! There were no feelings, apart from knowing that she gave birth to me. They were total strangers to me.