A rude awakening
Once these immigrants make it in, they soon find themselves confronted with two major problems--money and work. The Chens were no exception.
To make ends meet, the family relied on Mr. Chen's pay as a construction worker--just under HK$5000 (NT$21,000) a month. Even in Sham Shui Po, where the average income is the lowest of Hong Kong's 18 districts at only HK$14,000, this was a paltry sum. Comparing this with the HK$3 million or more that foreign managers in Hong Kong make each year, the painful truth behind Hong Kong's reputation as a "laissez-faire paradise" becomes all too apparent.
"Rent here is a bit over HK$1000 a month, and although the children get free education, each semester we have to pay HK$3000 or more for books and uniforms," says Mrs. Chen, her voice lowering as she discusses the difficulty of providing food and shelter for her children.
The Hong Kong Special Administrative Region government defines "new immigrants" as immigrants to Hong Kong who have lived in the SAR less than seven years and do not have permanent residency.
"To most Hong Kongers, though, if these immigrants don't leave Sham Shui Po, they'll always be A-Tsan, always be 'newcomers,'" explains Sze Lai-shan of the Society for Community Organization (SoCO), which has a long history of immigrant counseling services. A first-generation immigrant herself, Sze has seen innumerable new arrivals get set up in Sham Shui Po, put down roots in Hong Kong, and then gladly leave the district. On the other hand, she says, "Almost half of them gradually lose hope and resign themselves to being stuck in Sham Shui Po for life."
Sham Shui Po, known as "the Harlem of Hong Kong," is a place that immigrants have a love-hate relationship with. Like Tucheng and Sanchung in Taipei County, Sham Shui Po was an early industrial center: in the 1960s, when light industry in Hong Kong was at its peak, the district was home to a number of textile firms, clothing factories, canneries, and food wholesalers. But as Hong Kong's economy grew and evolved, this once-prosperous area began to fall into decline, with the number of factories down more than half from its peak of over 6000.
As a result, according to a survey of local immigrants by SoCO, the majority of immigrant families are left living on a single source of income, with over 60% of these relying entirely on construction work or low-paid jobs such as security or cleaning.
There are also plenty of female immigrants looking for work, but according to SoCO's figures, unskilled senior high school graduates accounted for 75.8% of female immigrants to Hong Kong in 2006, and their lack of education makes work opportunities scarce. According to SAR government data, the more than 26,000 women who migrated to Hong Kong to join family or spouses in 2006 earned an average monthly income of just HK$1760.
Such financial issues have caused urban renewal in Sham Shui Po to lag behind the rest of Hong Kong, and have also led to many local poor and immigrants cramming themselves into "cage homes" ("rooms" with walls of iron bars and only big enough for a single bed) and "partitioned homes," creating a side of Hong Kong many find hard to believe could exist in the prosperous territory.
Ten minutes by foot from Mrs. Chen's public housing estate live Mrs. Fang and her family, who moved from Zhongshan, Guangdong Province, and for whom life is even harder.
Entering their four-decade-old apartment building and stepping into a stairwell barely wide enough for one person, the first thing you see is a mottled wall on which is painted "Drug-taking and defecation prohibited." Reaching the second floor, you see a 115-square-meter apartment divided by thin partitions into seven units, each housing two to six people. This is a so-called "partitioned home."
Each evening, as the Fangs come home from work and school, the floor's only bathroom and kitchen are quickly filled up as the six families--18 people in total--take their turns using them. "By the time everyone's finished cooking, it's already time for bed," complains Mrs. Fang.
In such difficult circumstances, even the children have learned to make every dollar count. To save the HK$8.80 return bus fare, the Fangs' eldest son instead walks 45 minutes to and from school each day. At weekends, virtually no-one even goes out. Though only eight subway stations away, the bustle and prosperity of Hong Kong Island seems like another world.
Using the edge of the bed as a "lounge" (above), and gingerly typing at the computer while balancing on a bunk bed (below)--this is the starting point for many immigrants to Hong Kong living in "partitioned homes."