Spirit of Christmas Past--Hong Kong

It was sweater weather in Kowloon on Christmas Eve, with a crisp breeze giving an autumnal touch to midwinter. There were hordes of shoppers in the subway and on the streets but there are always shoppers in this community. People in clothing that was far from haute couture waited in roped-off lines to get into Chanel and Louis Vuitton, gleefully taking photos of each other as they stood under the designers’ logo. Crowds milled along a side street filled with fake watches and poorly-copied Birkin bags. In the downmarket Yau Ma Tei area, women scrutinized stalls crammed with polyester clothing and infant garments that look highly flammable. Even Chungking Mansions had put out bins of gilted key rings with Hong Kong scenes and little plastic trees and gaudy Christmas balls. Tis the season after all.

 Westerners decry holiday commercialism in their home countries but Hong Kong has a death grip on that particular talent. Why just commercialize a holiday when you can strike directly at the heart of it--the Christmas tree?

 A prominent public square in the heart of Hong Kong had a mammoth Christmas tree that was purportedly made of Swarovski crystals--at least that's what all of the nearby signage proclaimed. And in my own temporary neighborhood of Nathan Road, Christmas was brought to us by Chula Pops, giving us a tree decorated with gigantic versions of these confections, which "make Christmas sweet." There were probably far more co-opted trees all over the city, but I didn’t have the energy to hunt them down.

 To escape Christmas trappings, I went to Lantau Island's Big Buddha, a statue so glorious that it transcends all of the hype that surrounds it. A "village" dedicated to shopping and Starbucks was what I walked through before climbing the 200+ stairs to reach the Buddha, and suddenly I was surrounded by snowflakes. As Johnny Mathis crooned over a "white Christmas," a snow machine blew bits of dandruff onto passersby. Before I could indulge in my usual cheap cynicism, I caught sight of the very small children who were transfixed by what was coming from the sky and suddenly the snowfall was real and the carols were sweet and Christmas was really and truly in the air.

 Merry Christmas to all--even (or perhaps especially) to those who manufacture a phony snowfall and make little children happy.