I died long ago. My relatives do not want to come back to live in Cha Kwo Ling. My house is falling apart. The roof collapsed. It is raining inside the house. Daylight is coming inside the house. A big tree has grown as if my house was a big flower pot. The villagers built some plastic structure to guide the growth of the tree. The tree grows from my private space into the public space, providing coverage for the passers-by. I am happy that a tree is growing inside my home. Life continues.
Cha Kwo Ling is mostly abandoned now. A lot of vegetation is growing on abandoned houses. The green has covered most of the waste material. It’s pretty. A lot of tourists come visit our village as “authentic Hong Kong”, they even go in narrow streets and take pictures. I wish I was there to tell them our stories. Maybe they can imagine.
Zhang, Wong, Jia Rui, Jia, Dai, Tam, Ngai, Chan, Cao, Choi, Nian, Ng, TT Ng, Lam, Chan, Chang, Trumpf, Hoehne, Jung-Harada, Klein