Rules Are Mostly Made to be Kept in Hong Kong

Americans live by rules every day of their lives—in their community governed by neighborhood associations, on the highway in their vehicles, in their workplaces controlled by their superiors. But in Hong Kong societal rules seem to seep into every part of daily existence. And in case you forget how to behave in any given situation, there are plenty of reminders around to get you back on track when you stray. Those reminders come in the form of signs found everywhere—on the walls in train stations, on the workplace intranets, and in the public service announcements on television.  A recent television spot told us all how much happier we would be if we cleaned our homes regularly, illustrating how the whole family pitches in to mop floors.

Rules in University Life

     As an academic, I’ve had fairly free reign over the conduct of my work life. As long as I taught my classes responsibly, kept office hours, attended meetings and published an appropriate amount of research, nobody messed with the way I went about doing things. Not so here. I got a taste of the rules even before I arrived. In early summer, the Human Resources office of the university informed me that my visa would begin on the day before classes started and that I was not expected to book my flight before that time. What?  No time to recover from jet lag? No time to settle in?  No time to get my preparations done before walking into the classroom?  After much negotiation, I was able to get here some days before the start of teaching. But I found those were not the only rules. I needed university approval for travel to conferences —and not just at the department level—and was allotted exactly 3.5 days of approved personal leave for the semester. Decisions are posted on a public website.

     Rules come up in unexpected places at the university. One day early in the semester I left to go home after my evening class. On the train I remembered that I had neglected to remove flash drive from the USB port of the classroom computer. “Never mind,” I thought. “Nobody will be in that room anymore tonight, so I’ll just arrive before the start of classes in the morning to retrieve it.” To my horror, the flash drive was gone and an extensive search turned up nothing. “You might check with security,” said one of the administrative assistants. Thinking this was just like a lost-and-found center, I asked the attendant if my flash drive had been located, providing details about the classroom location and time I left.   Then the interrogation began.  “What did it look like?”  “What was the brand name?”  “What color was it?” “How much memory was on it?”  “Name several files stored on it?”  I must have had a few problems recalling specific information as he was not ready to tell me whether such a thing had been located. He disappeared for about 15 minutes and returned with the device. “Yes, that’s it,“ I said, excitedly, thinking he would hand it over. Oh no. The drive was inserted in the security office’s laptop and powered up. Then I was asked again about file names.  Finally after certifying that it was indeed my flash drive in an official log book and providing several of my signatures, I was allowed to leave—flash drive in hand. Whew! Since then I have remembered to check for ALL my belongings when leaving a classroom.  And I know the security officer’s rule. Remove all alien devices from classrooms and turn them in to the main security office for hapless faculty to arrive and be treated as if they were not the real owners of the items.

Rules for National Day

Last week was the celebration of National Day, the 60^th anniversary of the PRC.  Though celebrations on the mainland were much more elaborate and had many more rules than in Hong Kong, we had a few of our own to follow. Mainland rules dictated that nobody without tickets could attend the official show in Tiananmen Square (despite its being dubbed “the people’s parade”), and that no official celebrations outside those in Shanghai and Beijing were allowed. Even the weather systems were not permitted to bring rain to the main event. So several hours in advance of the celebration, the clouds were all seeded so that rain would fall prior to the ceremony and smog and clouds would magically disappear on cue. As it turned out, the rules were all followed—even by the weather--and the program went off without a hitch.

            Hong Kong’s celebration mainly consisted of a 23-minute fireworks display over Hong Kong harbor. Those people who did not live in an apartment with full view of the harbor or who could not afford a hotel room at the pricey Peninsula, were relegated to standing along the Avenue of the Stars to watch with the rest of the public. Local officials did not want them to misbehave for the event so many banners, like the ones pictured here, reminded the people of proper behavior. Well they must have complied with the admonishments because the next morning on my walk, I found only this display of trash and no indications that any other disturbances occurred.

Rules for Playing Golf

My husband, an avid golfer, has been really keen to get on a golf course here, despite the expense of it all.  On a weekend, the  greens fee for the 18-hole course at Kau Sai Chao costs more than $100.  I encouraged him to go as he may not have the opportunity to do this again. So he called the course to book a tee time. At the other end, an automated telephone system instructed him to register with some detailed personal information, including the first 6 digits of his passport number. After a few more steps, he was asked for his handicap number and the names of the other golfers playing with him.  Following a bit of difficulty he was able to get a real person on the line, explaining that he was away from the U.S. and did not have his handicap number with him. Sadly, he has been unable to get on the links, and is waiting for the number to be sent to him from his golf course back in Bloomington. All of this means nothing to me, but he was incredulous that a public golf course would require his handicap number to be able to book a tee time. Guess his cash is insufficient to play and they won’t take his word about the handicap. Those are the rules.

Transportation Rules –and a Small Rebellion

The rules especially apply to public transportation. On a recent bus trip to the U.S. consulate, my husband and I were seated behind the driver where the bus rules were posted, as you can see in the photo I took of them. I got nervous reading complete list of 24, thinking I might be violating one or the other of them. So I tried to get through the list before disembarking.  But when I got to the 25^th rule, I was somewhat relieved to find that if I had a problem with any of the previous 24, I could call the hotline or customer service or even email a query to the city bus information center. What a relief.

       Now you may be wondering what it takes for a Hong Konger to break the rules. I do see occasional jaywalkers when the stop light lasts too long and a pedestrian is in a hurry. And I also notice that some rule-breakers walk up or downstairs opposite the arrows indicating  the appropriate side.

But I find the most consistent violation of the rules when travelers are boarding trains.  At all train stations passengers are reminded to  “allow passengers to alight” from the train in three languages and to “stand behind the yellow line” as the train approaches. Well, they get part of this right.  At each entrance to the train, arrows are drawn on the platform indicating that those leaving the train will exit in the middle of the door and those boarding the train will wait on either side of  the middle. The assumption is that boarding passengers will wait and when the last person to exit has left, they will step onto the train. But what really happens is that boarding passengers stand behind the yellow line only until the train stops. Then they move in, standing shoulder to shoulder forming a kind of barricade so that the disembarking passengers must push their way out of the train just in time for the doors to close behind them. Why does this happen?  Why do they not wait in the designated areas until all the passengers depart the train?  I have no real explanation. I can only guess that no matter how hard people want to obey the rules, there are just some times and places where you absolutely must resist and do what you want to do—in this case, push your way onto the train. 

I believe I am becoming a better citizen here in Hong Kong and am actually trying to obey the myriad rules posted around me. But I must confess to a little resistance now and again, despite my best efforts.