Testing, One, Two, Check...Check, Check...

Nǐ men hǎo. Carina is a bit under the weather today (blessedly it just seems to be sinus pain), so I will be filling in for her this Monday morning. I know most of our readers already know who I am, but Mom always said I should introduce myself in things like this:

My name is Colin, and I put the "Lewis" in "Lewis and Clark." With the bad joke out of the way, I am the main reason we are out here in Hong Kong. Well, more specifically, my studies are the reason we are out here in Hong Kong. For those unaware, I am a philosopher and, unlike the grand majority of my colleagues, my interests include classical Chinese philosophy. A few years ago I wrote an undergraduate thesis pertaining to the interest in semantics that features in Confucianism. It was a good start, but I need more training in classical Chinese philosophy so I can back my points up (and do they ever need backing up!). Accordingly, I applied to the graduate school with the best program in classical Chinese philosophy that also had a decently well-rounded department. Who would have thought it would be in Hong Kong? ...Oh, right, everyone...

Anyway, after much negotiation, debate, and revision of plans, I have finally settled with my Master's thesis topic which, although not as ambitious as I had originally hoped, should still prove a valuable contribution to the field and to my future project (PhD dissertation material saved? Check!). This thesis is going to be about "lǐ", a term that is often glossed as "ritual" but means a lot more than that according to Confucianism. The Confucians use the term to encapsulate almost all social conventions, from how low you bow to your emperor to what color underwear you wear on Tuesday, and believe that studying and adhering to lǐ (to a degree) is the key to instantiating social order and one's own sense of contentedness.

Why am I telling you all of this? It is because I intend to provide the occasional philosophical spin for this blog. Philosophy is, after all, the main reason for us being in Hong Kong. I might as well provide a little, right?

DISCLAIMER: I am NOT suggesting that Carina's posts lack an intellectual, insightful edge or are in any way shallow or vapid. I am just trying to make my unique contribution, really!

So for today's post I want to give you guys a little something special. It is a concept I discussed in my old journal of events in Hong Kong (http://colinl.livejournal.com/), but one that could always bear a little more fleshing-out: Hong Kong's "Culture of Obliviousness". Mind you, the term is not my own but one that my adviser, Chris Fraser, coined in our aforementioned conversation (re: "Academics"). It really does fit the situation, though.

Here is your picture: An island 80.5 square kilometers in size (you can walk around that in a day) with a population of almost 1.3 million. This puts population density at 16,390 per square kilometer and THAT is assuming an even distribution of the population (and do you think people live on those mountain parks?). Needless to say, this place is considerably cramped and, with the inexplicably narrow sidewalks, even given the compactness of things, it makes getting around a major pain. Place two Caucasians on the street here and watch with peels of laughter as they try to navigate the Yellow Sea (yes, I know, it is a horrible joke but PLEASE do not take offense to it; just have a sense of humor). The point is that getting around here is pretty tricky...and made all the trickier by the fact that no one really seems to acknowledge anyone else.

You may be asking: What do you mean, "no one really seems to acknowledge anyone else"? What I mean is that, even on the limited sidewalk space here, people seldom seem aware of how much room they are taking up, whether they are walking with or against the flow of pedestrians, and even if they are in the middle of the sidewalk. That is to say that, unlike the USA, there is no sidewalk etiquette in Hong Kong (bizarre given China's alleged devotion to Confucian ideals). As a result, you never have a guaranteed pedestrian passing lane and you are inevitably going to be stuck behind a little old lady who, against all odds, takes up the entire sidewalk with her bags and meandering steps. Couple that with the fact that most people walk with their heads down around here and you have a recipe for disaster.

Now, mind you, there is some rationale behind this way of doing things: You are ALWAYS around people here, so you have to have some way of giving yourself "me time". I imagine that this way of walking as if you were just navigating objects in the world and not people allows one a sort of mental privacy or zen state that we in the West would simply seek out but locking ourselves away in meditation (which is why I spend time in my apartment). This, of course, is not a viable option in Hong Kong, so people do the next best thing by zoning out.

Unfortunately, in essentially severing your ties from a shared reality you are basically dehumanizing others and also putting yourself in quite a dilemma by not acknowledging that human beings have a propensity for seemingly random action. Do you really want to pretend I am a stone in your path when I am charging ahead at almost 20 kilometers per hour? I assure you, it is a bad idea.

If it were limited to the sidewalks, it might not be so bad. This culture, however, extends to almost all aspects of life, even government. I am going to stop here for the day but, in my next entry, I will detail the problems of Hong Kong's hyper-capitalist system and how the Culture of Obliviousness further complicates Hong Kong's Economy of Renters.

Hasta luego!