Yeoh Siew Hoon visits a Hong Kong that's taking no chances this time round.
You can tell Hong Kong is taking no chances this time round. The health declaration forms are back. “Have you had contact with pig the last few weeks?” How do you answer that?
The temperature scanners are back. The face masks are back on. How do they breathe? In the bathrooms, disinfectant lotion has appeared. At Pacific Place, there’s a sign at the lift telling you that it’s disinfected hourly. You’re almost afraid to touch them for fear of spreading your germs to others.
In the papers are reports of authorities trying to track down those who were seated next to two people on a flight who caught the virus. It’s like reading a spy novel.
At the airport on arrival, I bump into Sam, the Kowloon Shangri-La airport concierge who recognises me from previous visits. He looks surprised to see me. After all, my name is not on his books so how could I be in Hong Kong and not at his hotel.
Feeling like a child that’s been caught out, I blushed, saying I was staying in another hotel because of an event.
“Ah, more convenient?” he asked, looking me in the eye. “Next time, you stay with us, ok?”
Wouldn’t you love to have an employee like Sam? He takes his job so personally and so professionally.
In the Metropark Hotel where guests were locked down for seven days, stories emerged of a couple from England who took the time to collect gifts and donated them to the Salvation Army, of great parties thrown and of love found – at least two relationships were formed.
And according to the South China Morning Post, one of the women trapped in the hotel was believed to be a prostitute – "She remained stuck in one of the hotel's 173 rooms with the guest who brought her in, because the management refused her a separate room," the Post said, citing unidentified hotel guests.
Talk about a captive customer base.
And if you’d like to know what happens to your laundry during a seven-day quarantine in a hotel room, watch this video.
On the streets, everything is as it’s always been – rushed, frenetic, crowded. The shops are not though. I walked through Ocean Terminal and Harbour City in Kowloon – have you noticed that in Hong Kong, you have to walk through shopping malls to get to anywhere – and the branded shops that once promised us happiness look more than a little sad.
And is it my imagination or are the neon lights not as bright as they used to be? There’s still a sign that says “AIG” but I think it’s not saying the same thing it used to say pre-September 2008.
Or perhaps it’s just me looking at the same things with new eyes?
At Zen, one of my favourite restaurants in Pacific Place, it’s as crowded as it’s always been – which just goes to prove, if you cook good food, they will come.
Above the noise, the manager overhears my accent and asks, “Are you from Singapore?”
“No, Malaysia.”
“Where?”
“Penang.”
“Ah, good food. I went there before. I like the char koay teow.”
The universality of the love for food.
In the taxi from Kowloon to the island, the taxi driver asked, “Which tunnel you want?”
“The fastest,” I said. I had to. On his dashboard was the sign saying, “Time is money.”
Hong Kong may be down and running a bit scared from this latest flu scare but let me tell you, it is not out nor will it ever be. Its people – from Sam to the taxi driver – guarantee that.
