“Do” for a Reason
It’s 2am and the air conditioner has officially stopped working. The last few hours have been an unforgiving battle between the AC unit and the 95 % humidity. Despite cheering on the old machine, I’ve come to the realization that it’s not coming back on anytime soon. With nothing to do but try and fall back asleep, I move onto the next challenge. Legs or Arms? That’s right. The bed in my 30 sqft apartment (cell?) is more like a wooden table that’s been cut out of the wall than an actual bed. Unfortunately for my 6'2 frame, I don’t get the luxury of being able to actually fit my entire body on the bed. So I’m back to my original question. I’ll stay in my current position and let the legs hang off the end for the rest of the night.
If I were back in Canada I would be furiously arguing with my landlord. How could you possibly expect someone to pay $500 CAD/month for a place like this? But — I’m in Hong Kong. And I couldn’t be happier. Prices are so drastically inflated because of the immense demand. This is, by many opinions, the best city in the world, and people will do anything to be surrounded by its greatness — even live in the prison cells of Sai Ying Pun.
I wake up to the blazing security lights of my neighbours across the alleyway. Every morning around 5:30 the mother and grandmother turn on these lights and begin to cook for the day ahead. The smell of the boiling chicken broth perpetrates through my window, and acts as my very local version of an alarm clock. This family lives 12 people to 4 beds, yet each of them enjoys the day with smiles that are contagious beyond measure.
On my way to the gym I begin to embrace what I love most about this chaotic city — the very basis of its character — the overwhelming energy that radiates through each and every individual. While most countries are still fast asleep, dreaming of the day ahead — HKers are doing. From the 12 year old girls and boys who are getting ready for school, to the 80 year-old woman who inches along the sidewalk — throwing the entirety of her body into a trolley full of what must be 100 pounds of dried fish and fresh vegetables — everyone is awake, and everyone is moving.
Tired and hungry, I head over to the local food joint to grab a quick bite to eat. I have survived on two rules. Rule number one: go wherever the line is biggest. Today, it was a nice breakfast spot frequented by the locals — not an expat to be seen, and a far cry from the comfort of my office. I stick out immediately, being the only “Guilo” (Slang term for white guy) in the room. As I’m sure you’re starting to understand, space is at a premium in Hong Kong. The waitress grabs my shirt and points me towards a single chair. I head over and join the 2 families who are also eating at my table, and try to say hello without much success. Most Chinese restaurants will still have an english menu — this one did not. Rule number two: if you have no idea what to order, or no idea how to order it, point to something that looks good and hope for the best.
Waiting for my food to arrive, I take a sip of the warm tea that the waitress brought for me. As the tea hits my mouth I hear nothing but my entiretable yelling at me in Cantonese. I finish my sip and put down the tea, knowing not what they warn me of. The gentleman in front of me makes hand motions and I finally understand what he is saying — put all of my utensils in this “tea” and wait for my meal. You see, it wasn’t tea at all. At many small restaurants, they don’t clean the utensils very well, so you must “sterilize” everything that you are going to use in the hot water at each table prior to eating. No wonder it didn’t taste like the green tea I was used t0…
I take in the hustle and bustle with every stride as I find my way to the office. The day flies by and I quickly realize how lucky I am — I get to work on interesting projects and meet very talented and motivated individuals. I said before that everyone is in a constant state of “doing”. But unlike many cities where people are “doing” just to “do”, people in Hong Kong “do” for a reason. You see, when you walk the streets of San Francisco you will meet countless startup founders — each one finding a faster way to get you your dry cleaning or building a more “disruptive” social network for dogs. Smart (arguably) people creating solutions to problems that don’t really exist. That is not to discount the many incredible companies in the Bay Area — because there are many. However, the average software startup is just applying the same popular business model to a different industry, and offering “game changing” pricing models until their VC backing runs dry and they can no longer afford to finance the nonsense. Rinse, repeat. San Francisco.
In Hong Kong, people create businesses out of necessity, not out of fad. From shipping and manufacturing to construction and healthcare, people are solving problems that matter. There is a growing startup scene, but it is not littered with free lunches and ping pong tables. It’s a place where you go to hustle. In fact — if you don’t hustle you won’t survive.
Exciting and cutthroat, you need to prepare yourself for the unexpected. This place can make even the bravest scared, but if you can adapt and grow — you can make it here. From the bustling streets where family businesses have thrived for years to the dramatic rooftops where financiers sign term sheets, you will not find one person who isn’t pushing themselves day in and day out. Complacency doesn’t exist here, and I love that.
