Hong Kong - The Protest — William Esden Jones-Warner

I was in Hong Kong for one weekend and one weekend only. It was initially a trip to see old friends, meet a colleague and see the city – this all happened. But it also turned into something else. The week before I was meant to fly, Hong Kong had its first protest on the china extradition law. This was news, and something quite shocking to the rest of the world. This is a country that has lived by western freedoms for a while and now has country being handed back to its country of origin. Hong Kong has its own judiciary system but the pro-Chinese leader of Hong Kong, Carrie Lam, passed a bill to extradite criminal suspects back to china under certain circumstances. People believed this would lead to unfair trial and treatment of these people. It upset a lot people and they protested.

It all started on the Friday. I landed in Hong Kong as the sunset and I gazed out my window at the scenery. The mountains, the harbours, the sky scrapers are all something we’ve seen in the UK but not all together. It was cool and I was a little excited to see the city that has influenced the Britain’s relationship with China over the past 150 years.

The bus ride to the hotel was cool, everything was so similar to being in England but so different. They drove on the left and even road markings look identical, just someone got the font slightly wrong. I arrived at the hotel at about 10pm, grabbed my camera and headed out into the streets to explore. It was cool, genuinely like I’d stepped into blade runner. I snapped a few shots of the neon and headed back to the hotel to sleep.

Saturday, I started hearing rumours of another protest planned for the Sunday - this was exciting. I cruised around town, walking around the places I had read the protests had taken place the week before, familiarising myself with it. I then jumped onto the public transport system to head out to the new territories. I was headed to a place called Sai Kung and got dropped off by the tiny minibus on Fuk Man Road – no joke. I was going to stay with my friends who had lived in Hong Kong most of their life and knew the area like the back of their hand. We went to the pub, chatted late and then went for a morning swim in the bay to clear our heads. Then we waited.

We were checking a number of WhatsApp groups and Facebook pages to try and gauge whether the protest was going ahead and at what time and location. We had an idea of where it would be because of the previous protest, on Hong Kong Island near Central. This was a little risky for me as I had to get my plane that evening and I knew If I went to Hong Kong island and the transport links got closed down I would struggle for time.

We got the confirmation of location, Central again. I jumped on the public minibus and stormed into town. The transport wasn’t busy and I was unsure if this was right. I got off the minibus and descended into the Kowloon bay MTR station – near empty again. As I neared Hong Kong island I noticed more and more young people getting on at the stops. When it came to transfer to the island line the place was packed – everyone wearing black in support of the protests. it took several trains to get onto the island line as the queues were so big. Everyone was moving slowly, calmly, no shouting or ruckus. This surprised me, I was expecting it be more intense. We moved along towards admiralty and central where the protests were taking place. I got off the stop before as not to get stuck at the station and would walk.

Protestors having a rest at the central parting - Hong Kong

It was madness when I disembarked the train. I joined masses of people moving up towards the street and when the crowd reached the street it was loud and there was a real atmosphere. The crowd was moving as one along the main street. Thousands and thousands of people. I genuinely had not seen so many people outside of a festival mainstage. Everyone wearing black, everyone with signs and shouting as one. I didn’t know where they were going but I joined in the masses, walking passed the memorial to the protester who fell from pacific place. There were flowers, notes and of course a yellow raincoat. People were laying more flowers, writing notes and crying... emotions ran high.

The throng moved on, you got swept along with it. You had to move to the side to stop getting sucked along. Climbing onto the centre parting in the road was where you could get a rest. People were standing on the footbridges that crossed the main road, people shouting into megaphones, handing out flyers that said ‘no china extradition’. I moved with the crowd, marching along. People had climbed onto buildings and unfurled banners and Cantonese slogans which I could not read.

Memorial to the protestor that fell to his death - Hong Kong

The edges of the march had been roped off in places by the police, allowing for a single route snaking through the city. For the most part people were well behaved and being respectful. There was a lot of emotion in the crowd but this was a protest, far from a riot.

Time ticked by and my plane was getting closer, a number of stations had been closed and I was running the risk of Hong Kong station closing. The protest march came close so I made to decision to duck out. I jumped a barrier the police had made to reroute the protest and I headed off to the station to get the airport express. It was a cool experience – something that is so monumental. A people trying to decide their countries fate and steer it in a direction that seems more and more to be decided for them. While many of the older people have some favourable views towards Beijing the young are liberal and young, grown upon a country with all the freedoms of the west. Can a group of people who have experienced this go to a life of modern communism, state run media and constant surveillance that the Chinese government can implement on it’s citizens? It will be interesting to see what happens here as Hong Kong comes close to the end of its time as a special administrative region.