Collapsing Scaffolding

When Typhoon Ragasa has moved sufficiently away from Hong Kong, I went out for a walk around the neighbourhood. Right behind our home, across the street, was a new residential complex under construction.  The building was nearly finished, but still encased by one of the marvels of Hong Kong - an external scaffolding made completely out of bamboo that goes up many dozens of floors.   

I noticed that part of the scaffolding was pulled by the typhoon off from the side of the building.  It was now hovering ominously above the car park/side street below.  

From a certain angle, the lattice of bamboos - each a straight-line - form intriguing curves of subtly different curvatures.  It would not be easy to design and construct such a shape.  But the typhoon has succeeded in creating an eye-pleasing art installation. After snapping some photos, I continued my walk in the neighbourhood. 

On my way home, I heard some noise coming from the scaffolding.  At first, I couldn’t tell where the noise was coming from.  Then I noticed that the scaffolding seemed to have pulled further away from the building, and was literally falling apart. Some things were breaking.  Hence the sound. 

Right in front of my eyes, from a safe distance across the street, gaps were forming in the lattice, and were growing larger and larger. Then a large section of the lattice opened like a window (that have been turned 90 degrees) and fell to the car park below.  Fortunately, there were no cars there.  

That seemed to be the end of the story. So I went home.

For a moment, there was a beautiful art installation - half made by men, half created by nature - that was visible to all, for free.  Unfortunately, it didn’t last, just like many beautiful things.  I am glad I still have the photos. 

Kadoorie Hill

Beautiful Gates and rocky walls.

Quiet avenues.

Trees. 

More trees.

It does not look much like Hong Kong.

Yet it is Hong Kong. 

High rises and Mongkok are just minutes away.  

It is an oasis in the middle of the hustle and bustle of Kowloon.  If you can afford it. 

The End of Tai Hang Sai Estate (大坑西邨)?

We might be excused to think that the Tai Hang Sai saga has ended, given that it has been running for so long.  Surely those who want to take pictures have taken what they wanted, years ago? That the buildings should have been torn down by now.  In fact, perhaps the estate has already been rebuilt as planned?  After all, Hong Kong has long been known for its efficiency, adaptability, and just getting things done. 

Apparently, some demolition has indeed started.  

However, as I walked around the estate this morning, most of the buildings seem to be still standing.  

The place has indeed been blockaded, for a long time already.  One cannot walk in casually to take photos, as many of us have done, perhaps multiple times. 

But apparently, some residents are still holding out.  

How is it going to end? And when? 

Perhaps someone will offer the hold-outs better financial incentives to move on?  Or to help them find alternate accommodation?  Or to remove them by force?  

New Academic Year

Thus has started my 33rd year at PolyU.  Students have returned to campus. Classes have started.  Our office (Service-Learning) has just moved to another building on campus.  I am still settling into my own new office.  A lot of things have yet to be taken out of their boxes.  Much remain the same.  Yet there is also a lot that feels new. 

My role has certainly changed a lot.  For many years I mainly taught and conducted research in computer science.  Gradually I started doing more and more service-learning.  Initially, I worked mainly on the front line - teaching students, doing the research myself, designing projects, applying for funding.  I did not have very high respect for “administration”  or “management”.

Gradually, I had to take up program management, and assist the head of department to managing the subject and programs that we offer, and the other colleagues in the department.  The same happen in service-learning too, subsequently.  Initially, I was supervising and teaching students - on the front line.  More and more, I have to design subjects and projects, find the funding, plan the implementation, liaise with partners, train the teachers, guide the researchers, create new programs, imagine the future, venture into the unknown, talk, …  In many ways, doing many of the things that I disdained before. 

I have also come to appreciate something - creating and “managing” the environment for the font-line doers to do the work is no less important than doing the work itself.  At the same time, it is important to stay on the frontline at least part of the time, to remain connected with the reality.  It is the 33rd year, and still exciting.