The China Challenge: Becoming a Hong Konger

It was a steamy afternoon when I first arrived in Hong Kong. I got into a cab and told the driver, in English, to take me to a friend’s place in Causeway Bay. “Hoi To Court, please,” I said, smiling at him through the rearview mirror while fighting the tiredness of a long flight from Europe. He looked confused, so I repeated the name in Mandarin.

“So you are a mainlander! Why pretend you are not?” he yelled at me in Cantonese, the language of Hong Kong. I did not understand much Cantonese, but I got that bit. I did not understand where his passive-aggressiveness came from, but the annoyance in his tone was deafening. I did not speak Cantonese, so I did not respond.

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