Vincent Lam Ngo-hin has worn out two pairs of shoes since the beginning of the Occupy Central protests a month ago. Now he is wearing a pair of well-used black flip-flops, bought near the protest zone in Admiralty. Like many other protest stalwarts Lam has to walk considerable distances each day for basic needs and to help care for others. The 19-year-old’s favourite Nike trainers were torn on October 13, when hundreds of anti-Occupy people – including about 50 burly masked men dressed in black – tried to remove barricades set up by the protesters. Lam, a freelance audio engineer, found himself at the forefront of the confrontation as the men used cable cutters to sever plastic cords holding the barricades together at the junction of Queensway and Cotton Tree Drive. He was wrestled to the ground and beaten, he says. More than two weeks later, he still has bruises on his arms, legs and ribs to prove it. “I grew up being beaten by others so I didn’t care,” says Lam, who quit school at the age of 17 and admits to a rough background. “But there were ladies and students. I had to get up and protect them.” The gangly teenager joined the pro-democracy sit-in on Harcourt Road in Admiralty on September 27 – a day before Occupy Central leaders declared that the occupation had begun. He says he got involved for the future of Hong Kong and because he dislikes Beijing and Chief Executive Leung Chun-ying for betraying the city. READ MORE: Click here for all the latest Occupy Central stories That sense of betrayal came on August 31 when the Standing Committee of the National People’s Congress set a restrictive framework on Hong Kong’s electoral reform. Protesters blamed Leung for not reflecting the true public desire for genuine universal suffrage to the central government and demanded his resignation. The protests – largely peaceful with occasional violent confrontations – remain in a stalemate with no solution in sight. Over the past month, Lam has tasted police pepper spray and tear gas. He hasn’t been able to work and has been to his home in Yuen Long only twice. Every morning he washes himself in one of the public toilets outside the government headquarters and the Legislative Council complex. The toilets have been transformed into makeshift bathrooms by thousands of protesters camped near the area, with dozens of bottles of shampoo, shower gel, shaving cream, aftershave and other personal care items stored neatly inside. Food isn’t an issue for Lam. He can grab what’s on offer at one of the supply stations in the protest zone. Every day, the supply stations will hand out free food, such as crackers, biscuits, bread and fruit. Occasionally, restaurants or people supporting the movement will drop off meal boxes, home-made dishes or sandwiches. Lam spends most of his days helping at the supply stations, distributing materials to other protesters, giving directions or carrying heavy supplies for others. In the afternoons, he goes to Hong Kong Park Sports Centre on Cotton Tree Drive about a 15-minute walk away for a shower. A female friend washes his clothes in the toilets and hangs the laundry on top of his tent to dry. “It’s not fun,” he says. “Who wants to sleep on the street when you have a home to return to and bed to sleep in? Here, when it’s hot it’s killing you, when it’s cold it’s killing you, when it rains it’s miserable too, and you have to walk such a long distance just to have a shower. “I don’t have much money saved either and now I’m not working. To sit idle and eat … in time all your money will be used up.” Despite the hardship, he’s not planning to go home, and he has gradually taken on the role of a protector. “I don’t know why, but I just want to protect the women and students,” he says. “No one ever invited me to protect them. I think I just do.” Lam joined Occupy Central against his parent’s wishes. Regardless of their differences, he says he got a phone call from his father one day asking if he was still at Admiralty and told him to take care of himself. A few days later Lam’s father, who he says “doesn’t know how to express himself”, asked his wife to buy and deliver their son some groceries. Later he visited his son at the Admiralty protest site. Lam says he didn’t cry when he saw his father, but he was very emotional. Lam hopes the stand-off can be resolved soon as he is turning 20 next month. He says he does not want to celebrate his birthday on the streets of Admiralty, although three of his friends have already celebrated their birthdays at the protest site. “The way I want to spend my birthday? With a bunch of my friends throwing a junk party, going to a pub or even singing karaoke is nicer than staying here,” he says. “But the worst case scenario … I will stay, of course.”
