Then & now: dregs and the city

After some seven years' of research, and a lengthy consultation process between government advisers, academics and heritage activists, more than 480 items of Hong Kong's "tangible and intangible cultural heritage" have been identified. Unfortunately, much that is considered "uniquely Hong Kong" is anything but. Many customs, festivals and food items listed are largely the same as those found elsewhere across the Chinese diaspora. In particular, anywhere that experienced large-scale Cantonese and Hakka migration a few generations ago (Kuala Lumpur and its environs, for example) contains much that is commonplace in Hong Kong.

But what are the broader allegories around what actually is unique to Hong Kong? Let's deconstruct one example. Yuanyang, a popular "local" drink of tea mixed with coffee, is frequently paraded by "cultural critics" as a culinary fusion metaphor for Hong Kong society; a beguiling blend of East and West, if you like. And perhaps it is. But originally, yuanyang was the combined dregs from tea and coffee pots, sold by restaurants to entrepreneurs, who then resold these slops, and other plate-scrapings, to the poor.

These days, food waste ends up in landfills; three generations ago, leftovers filled the stomachs of those unable to afford anything better. Hong Kong's people were so impoverished they readily wolfed down someone else's leavings, and so uncritical they actually developed a taste for recycled swill; eventually producing a version of it for themselves. Is that what heritage activists really want to celebrate?

In another sense, the yuanyang story is an underlying parable about the importance of solid historical frameworks as a first principle, rather than initial reliance on "heritage" interpretations. If sound historical research is downplayed, major challenges arise for successful heritage activism. For when history and heritage are regarded as interchangeable terms, winning evidence-based conservation arguments over historical structures, for example, becomes needlessly difficult.

To use an architectural metaphor; history is (fundamentally) the construction materials and building techniques without which there can be no edifice, while heritage is (broadly) the decorative and design sides, which add texture, distinctiveness and originality. Each enriches the other - but they are not the same thing. Successful history can exist without heritage, but the converse is not true. Like quirky, cutting-edge creative talent, heritage is - eventually - merely cladding. And like buildings, if the foundations are dodgy, the concrete is substandard and regulatory frameworks are flouted, then the building in question will not pass rigorous independent inspection. Eventually, the structure will need to be demolished before some disastrous collapse becomes inevitable.

Ultimately, like much else in contemporary Hong Kong, heritage concerns have little to do with pineapple buns, egg tarts and "authentic" milk-tea making techniques. Because people feel increasingly disconnected from unfolding events in their own town and are unable, given existing political structures, to control their own destinies, they clutch at reassuring small symbols from their past. Familiar food, especially, is deeply comforting when people are confronted by uncontrollable changes.