I’m not going to mince words: this week’s neighbourhood is a dump. A dirty, dusty, ugly, maddeningly congested dump. I know this project is all about seeking out beauty and interest where you least expect it but I’m not a miracle worker.

So why did I choose Lajpat Nagar as Suburb No 7? Because amongst the woefulness is what many locals consider to be the best market in Delhi and I was curious to see where Delhiites go to shop.

A few facts before we peruse. This South Delhi hood was developed in the 1950s and named after a famous Indian author, freedom fighter and politican, Lala Lajpat Rai. While the neighbourhood is actually quite enormous, divided up into four sections, I focused on Lajpat Nagar III and the Central Market area. Due to the fact it’s on a Metro line, Delhiites come from all over the city to take advantage of the market’s variety and bargains.

Part 1: Central Market

The main offerings at Central Market appear to be clothes, shoes, fabrics, jewellery and all manner of household items. And should all that retailing raise your appetite, a wide variety of street food, including the usual fare of chapatis and fried foods as well as doughy ‘momo’ dumplings, is available for a handful of loose change.

a modern Sikh in an, ahem, modern city

and the shoes to have them in

I'd kill for a momo

balloons

As I wandered and started taking shots of people, I became curious about the various markings many Hindus wear on their foreheads. As far as I can work out, they fall into three categories. Married women wear the red sindoor in or just below their hairline to denote their married status. Anyone can wear a bindi, which is for decoration only. And tilak marks are applied on both men and women for religious purposes. The most common tilak is the red dot, applied between the eyebrows; the tilak functions as a symbolic third eye for seeing spiritual reality.

It appears that Hindus can wear none of these markings, one or two, or a combination of all three.

squiggles also count

hot pink

off to the markets for a quick bite

adornment

golden brown finer temptress

the chapati maker :: 1

the chapati maker :: 2

Part 2: Another type of mark

Lajpat Nagar markets are also where you find excellent mehndi or henna work. For 200 rupees, roughly AUD$4, you can transform your hands and feet into works of art, albeit temporary ones. The mehndi artists sit lined up along the pavement, waiting for their next blank canvas to stop by. Once they start painting the incredibly intricate, elaborate designs, which can take up to two hours to finish, they become completely focused, lost in their miniature creations. I went back time and time again just to witness their art and finally to be drawn on myself.

artists at work

temporary tattoo

waiting for the henna to dry

After watching half a dozen hands being decorated, I wanted to know why Indian women do the mehndi. Rachel, the girl in the images below, told me that it was compulsory for brides to have it done whereas for the brides’ relatives it was optional but very common. She was attending her brother’s wedding the following day in faraway Rajasthan as were two other relatives and so they were all there being mehndi-ed.

one hand done, one to go

finally finished, two hours later :: 1

finally finished, two hours later :: 2

the wedding party

On my third visit to the markets I uncovered my pale white feet and offered them up to be painted on.

henna applying

henna drying

henna dried, two days later

Part 3: Temple

Before I arrived in Delhi I thought there would be a temple on every corner. Seemingly not. While there are quite a few of the small ones enclosed in glass around the place, the big, showy ones are a lot rarer.

Anyway, after some searching I did find a Hindu temple in Lajpat Nagar, called, I think, Shri Lakshmi Narain Mandir. This is where devotees go to perform pujas, which can mean anything from a simple prayer to one or all of the gods, or the full blown 16 step number.

It was hard to learn much there – language barrier the biggest obstacle – but my ‘research’ revealed that Hinduism has millions of gods but they’re all really the same, one god. And you pray to a certain one depending on your problem or desire.

Shiva is the main god here while the elephant god, Ganesha, as well as myriad lady gods, also make an appearance.

chillin'

goddesses

if you're after good fortune, pray to Laxmi, goddess of wealth

Apologies – more mehndi follows. As anyone who followed my first project, 52 Suburbs in Sydney, may remember, I’m more than a little obsessed with tattoos – and mehndi is really just a temporary tattoo.

lattice like

light and shade

swirls and curls

Part 4: Looking for a wife or hubbie?

Perhaps the most interesting thing I discovered this week was the ‘Matrimonial Service’ that the temple in Lajpat Nagar provides. Those seeking a spouse fill out a form, stipulating their caste and whether there is “Any defect in any part of body” amongst other things, and they’re then placed in certain files: Professional Women, Business Boys and my favourite, ‘Homely Girls’. You come in, tell one of the social workers what you’re after and they’ll hand you a file with hundreds of potential matches.

I only stumbled across this when I was putting my shoes back on after visiting the temple. I glanced across at the girl sitting next to me who was scrutinising a form and making hurried notes. When I read Matrimonial Service at the top of the form, that was it. Curiosity piqued. Luckily for me Kirta, a 26 year old Brahmin, was very happy to answer my questions. Yes, this was a popular way to find a spouse. No, she wouldn’t marry out of caste. And the three things most important to her? Height, weight and salary.

Kirti, 26, Brahmin, husband shopping

piles of hope

Bushan, searching for three months for a 'homely' girl

perusing the candidates

seeking a Sikh - female, 'homely' - for a friend

I then met the chatty Naresh Kumar, a social worker who oils the machine of the Matrimonial Service, and his sweet colleague, whose name I couldn’t decipher. They explained that the service was on offer in many temples but this one was particularly popular, drawing the hopeful from all around. And that despite India’s tentative grasp on modernity, caste and astrology still played a critical role in finding a compatible spouse.

Naresh Kumar, the matchmaking social worker

romance or the social worker, which one helps more Delhiites to get hitched?

Later that day I met one of Delhi’s many ‘lady builders’. I couldn’t know for sure but I doubt she ever had a chance at hitching up with a Business Boy.

incompatible

Anyway, she was already married and, despite her status in society, would have enjoyed a relatively fancy wedding.

even lowly workers have fancy weddings

Well, maybe not everyone…

I wonder if she'll ever be in the pile

my kind of arranged marriage

The Wrap

I continue to be horrified by the level of filth and congestion outside of Lutyen’s New Delhi, the bit built by the British with manicured gardens and well swept streets. And as someone who gets off on the architecture of a place, Delhi is just so bereft – again, aside from the British Raj monuments and the many ancient tombs, the general look of housing and retail areas is just so unappealing. Not charming old nor shiny new, just badly built and hodgepodge. With a population of 13+ million, Delhi has too many people and not enough resources to improve things. And of course when you see the poorest of the poor just trying to survive, you feel ashamed to complain about anything at all.

But, what I also keep being surprised by is that as abysmal as the built and natural environments can be, there is so much beauty in the people, the saris, the temples and the street food. And in the case of Lajpat Nagar, the art that may fade quickly but will leave an indelible mark on me forevermore.

there's nothing shiny and colourful about the lives of half a million cycle rickshaw drivers

On the ‘home front’

Coco and I have finally succumbed to Delhi’s putrid air and have both been sick the last few days. I lay in bed last night, shivering with flu-like chills and a racking cough, unable to sleep. And all I could think was, get me off the island, or subcontinent in this case. Just days ago though I was contemplating extending our stay (we’re due to leave in a week) and me hiving off to Kolkata for another fortnight. Now I don’t know if I want to put my lungs through another big, dirty albeit interesting Indian city. A first world problem in a third world country if ever there was one.

—

 This suburb was brought to you by Jo and Jeremy

—

See you next week.

After last week’s foray into a small but densely packed Islamic enclave, I thought we’d turn our gaze to a larger, sprawling area in Delhi called Lodhi.

While Lodhi is actually quite close to Nizamuddin West, it’s an entirely different world, containing bungalows built in the 1940s to house government employees, post-independence (1947) public housing, a handful of cultural, educational, and international institutions, a couple of temples and the oasis of calm that is Lodhi Gardens.

Okay, let’s wander.

Part 1: The band and the Jains

My first stop in Lodhi was a local Jain temple. While the temple itself wasn’t much to look at, I was told to come back early the next morning to see a big annual celebration called rath yatra. So at nine am sharp I raced over to see it. I need not have hurried because the Jain community were all on Indian time – which seems to mean ‘any time’. So the band who were booked for the celebration and I just waited.

we waited

and we waited

In the absence of anything Jain to photograph I turned my camera on the band. And what an accommodating lot they were too.

can whip up a band costume in a jiffy

fancy indeed

are the best, toot toot

threads, sacred and sewn

By this stage, an hour and an half had elapsed and still no sign of the Jains. Some of the local street kids came over to see what the woman with the camera was doing. So I photographed them too.

steet kids :: 1

street kids :: 2

Then the band started producing their own ‘cameras’. A great opportunity for a few of them to put their arm around ‘madam’ to have their picture taken.

the photographer becomes the photograph

It was all pretty funny.

funny

Then finally, hours later than expected, the Jain celebration kicked off. The band played, a tiny Buddha like Tirthankara idol was carefully lifted onto the carriage and the show hit the road. The band led the way followed by the procession of devotees and then the carriage. Every ten metres the whole lot would come to a halt and a woman would suddenly leap out from the crowd to take centre stage in front of the Tirthankara, and dance madly while people waved money over her head. Apparently she was expressing the joy of being a Jain, and the money thing, well, not entirely sure. Then off they’d go again for a while until they stopped to do a repeat performance.

shake it

tiny Tirthankara

marble and flesh

leading the rath yatra

joyous Jains :: 1

joyous Jains :: 2

joyous Jains :: 3

After a couple of hours the procession returned to the Jain temple for some lunch. 100% vegetarian lunch with not a clove of garlic or hint of onion to avoid over-excitement.

maybe that's why Jains are so calm

And that was that. Worth the wait entirely.

Part 2: Modernism in India

Two friends visiting Delhi told me about the India International Centre in Lodhi. So glad they did. American architect Joseph Allen Stein designed the 1960′s IIC in the Modernist style but with Indian touches such as the cast concrete jalis (screens). In fact, Stein designed a few other landmark buildings in Lodhi giving the area the nickname of ‘Steinabad’.

India International Centre, in 'Steinabad'

Modernist take on ancient jalis :: 1

Modernist take on ancient jalis :: 2

all very retro

The centre is where the city’s intelligentsia hang out and is Member’s Only in the lounge and terrace area. On my first visit two Indian men took pity on the woman peering through the window and invited me in. And that’s how I ended up having tea with a Brahmin and a Jain. They were both very charming but I found the Jain, Virendra, the most interesting having just seen the Jain festival the day before. The most curious part about the Jains I discovered is that they aspire to non-materialism and yet they are among the wealthiest in the land.

tea on the terrace

my Jain pal, Virendra

tea on the terrace :: 2

Before I left the IIC, Virendra and I wandered over to a little outside area called the Gandhi-King Plaza. Of the two inscriptions there etched in stone, one was particularly poignant, given that just a few kilometres down the road from this elite place are Delhi’s struggling.

and women

Part 3: Living in Lodhi

Those same friends who’d told me about the IIC also mentioned they’d seen an interesting old house nearby with a lovely spiral staircase. Nosing around, I finally found it, knocked on the door and that’s how I met the lovely Rasil. Having spent 40 years in New York, Rasil was now living back in Delhi in her childhood home, built in 1942.

I asked her how Delhi has changed over the years and she was pretty scathing. “The Mughuls got it right, the British got it right but recently, no, it’s terrible. For example, the skyline used to be lovely but all these flyovers have ruined it.”

returning full circle back to her home

Rasil

house of curves

For a contrast, I visited some of the public housing in Lodhi built by the Public Works Department after independence in 1947. The residents I met were all government employees and explained that as soon as their jobs ended, they’d have to leave. Hence the lack of ‘beautification’ to the buildings, all of which are pretty run down. But again, it’s all relative – compared to the slums around Delhi, these places are palaces.

public palaces

Lalitha and son, Aditya

Rashmi, 15

And what with the gardens not growing where they’re meant to, there’s plenty of room for cricket.

check out the wicket

Part 4: Lodhi Gardens

Before the Brits ruled Delhi, it was the Mughuls (1500-1850) and before the Mughuls it was the Delhi Sultanate (1200-1500). The Sultans heralded from Turkey way and had a very cool ‘Indo-Muslim’ aesthetic, which they injected into the many tombs they shot up around the city, including a handful of lovely ones in Lodhi Gardens. The British later landscaped around the tombs, turning 70 acres into a peaceful escape from Delhi madness. Nice chunk of green but I loved the old ruins best.

Lodhi Garden tombs, built 500 years ago

they're soon to be restored

doorways into the past - 20th century public housing vs 16th century Sultanate

regal

And look who I met in Lodhi Gardens prancing around the old tombs one day…

Coco does Bollywood at Lodhi Gardens

Part 5: Elephants, cows and flowers

There are countless dogs in Delhi – mostly sleeping – but I’ve seen zero cows. Apparently the moos were taken off the streets for the Commonwealth Games and haven’t really returned.

Did see a couple of elephants in Lodhi though this week. And flowers, well they’re everywhere.

two ways to get from A to B

elephant billboard

the elephant - Jain vs Hindu

jumbo flowers

Hinduism begins at home

patience required

But like I said, no cows, aside from this one.

its milk is okay but no eating the cow

Part 6: From the car window

As much as I’ve acclimatised to Delhi over the past two weeks, I still find the poverty and desperation gut-wrenching. Especially when you see it up close, right beside you.

through the car window :: 1

through the car window :: 2

But this guy, what a smile.

through the car window :: 3

The Wrap

Lodhi is worlds away from last week’s neighbourhood, Nizamuddin West, despite being relatively close. For all my complaints about how hard going Niz West was, at times I found myself missing its intensity. But the Jains certainly made an impact as did those band boys. I also enjoyed the time warp of the India International Centre. And the painted elephants. Who doesn’t love a painted elephant?

Coco and Durga Maa

On the ‘home front’

Child, what child? It’s going to be tough when we leave Delhi and all the home help here. I could get very used to having all the normal stuff taken care of – cooking in particular – not to mention Coco’s distance education/home schooling adventure which continues apace with the delightful Ronnie. Once I’m back to being a full-time mum, cook, cleaner, home schooler and 52 Suburbs Around the World-creator, I may need to cease eating garlic and onions myself in an attempt to remain calm.

—

This suburb has been brought to you by Renai Venables & Grant Bevan

—

See you next week.

Welcome to Delhi! Last time I visited India’s national capital was 13 years ago. Back then it seemed romantic. But this time around I spent the first few days wondering how soon we could leave. It’s me not you Delhi; I’m older now and less tolerant of your filth, poverty and those slow moving parking lots you call traffic.

But we’re not leaving, not yet anyway. Delhi may hide her beauty well but I’m up for the challenge. And aside from being interested in Indian culture, there’s another reason I included Delhi on this project – it’s where Coco’s dad lives. While he and she see each other once a year in Sydney, I thought this would be a good opportunity for Coco to see where her father has been living and working for the past six years of her life.

Anyway, more about that later. For week one in Delhi I chose a neighbourhood called Nizamuddin West. A Muslim enclave that I’d read was old and interesting with not a call centre in sight. Turns out the place isn’t just kind of old, it’s virtually medieval, Marrakesh-ish, with narrow lanes, meat hanging everywhere and hidden faces rushing past. Let’s go Nizamuddin West!

Part 1: The Sufi saint of Niz West

Niz West is named after the Sufi saint, Hzt. Nizamuddin Auliya, who kicked the bucket in the 12th century. A village grew around his shrine and today 20,000 people are crammed into the oldest part of Niz west, Basti Hzt. Nizamuddin, living in tiny dilapidated houses amongst markets, shops, mosques and a number of other shrines. The Sufi saint is still a really big deal; I met Muslims who’d made the pilgrimage to visit his ‘Dargah’ from all over India.

perfume before prayer

flower sellers en route to the shrine

say it with roses

looking through the jalis, into the shrine

tie a thread, make a wish

two ways to send a message :: 1

two ways to send a message :: 2

pray then eat

Part 2: More shrines anyone?

Hzt. Nizamuddin Auliya may pull a crowd but he’s not the only mystical, otherworldly thing about Niz West. There seem to be shrines, tombstones and mosques at every turn, with the odd Hindu god and Christian sticker about the place, because Sufism is all about playing nice. I particularly liked the shrine of a poet – small, unassuming and with lovely dappled light thanks to the marble jalis (pierced screen) surrounding it. 

poet Mirza Ghalib

mates from the madrasa

Mozzammel, 11

Mobashar, 13

Abdulahad, 11

Khwaja Hall is in his hat

neighbours

crescent moon beard

calm

apres prayer

Part 3: The women of Niz West

Niz West isn’t necessarily the best place to be female. Many women are confined to Purdah, only allowed to appear in public when they’re fully covered from head to toe, just able to peer through a narrow slit in their black niqab or through the lattice of their burqa. However, there seemed to be just as many getting about with a simple heard scarf on. I would have loved to have had a good natter with some of them over a cup of chai to understand more.

women's business

hidden :: 1

hidden :: 2

purple haze

Mehndi swirls

red heads

Part 4: Thirsty, hungry?

I loved the chai makers, boiling up big vats of sweet milky tea every afternoon. The wafts of freshly made chapati and biscuits drifting through the lanes. And the piles of fresh fruit and veg stacked high on old wooden carts. Not sure about the butchers with their great hunks of raw meat dangling everywhere though, something the poor old goats wandering around must find most off-putting.

chai

 

 

 

tea and coffee

 

 

 

short black and a biscuit

 

 

 

meet me 4 tea at 3

 

 

 

cooking chapati

 

 

 

fresh and dried

 

 

 

before and after

 

 

 

to the chicken shop

 

 

 

Part 4: The neighbourhood’s future

For all the shrines and hoo-ha, Niz West is a poor, underpriviledged area and day one, I watched where I walked, more concerned about stepping on crap or exposed electricity wires than anything else. By day three, I was able to look up and out, and enjoy the little bits of hope that tear around the alleys, kicking up dust but enlivening the place no end – the kids of Niz West. Many of them are getting an education and maybe just maybe their futures will be bright.

 

the Niz West crew

 

 

 

a smile to light the heavens

 

 

 

petal

 

 

 

she could break the cycle

 

 

 

Abdul and his furry friend

 

 

 

hope

 

 

 

The Wrap

Every day I visited the neighbourhood was hard going. At least an hour in heaving traffic just to get there. Keeping your wits about you all the time to avoid going under the wheel of those pesky motor-bikes that slam through the ancient galis. Feeling constantly scrutinised by every single person around you. And knowing all of this was nothing in comparison to how tough the lives of those living in Niz West must be.

But. As the days passed I noticed the smell of urine less and the scent of rose more. I started to see beyond the squalor and appreciate the little bits of beauty. And the kids, thank god for the kids. “Missee, you take my picture!” they’d all call, beaming and jostling for a place in front of my camera. I may never go back to Nizamuddin West but I can honestly say I’m glad I went.

 

heaven and earth

 

On the ‘home’ front

So we’re staying in an apartment in the same house as Coco’s dad, step-mum and younger half-brother. Cosy. But Coco is loving it and I’m getting time off from being a single parent; cooking, cleaning, child-minding and home-schooling are all being taken care of by the beautiful Indian staff here. A pleasant shock to the system I can tell you. The only downside is that Coco hasn’t seen much of Delhi so far. But this city is such hard work that I’m not sure that’s such a bad thing. She can always check out her mum’s blog if she’s curious. 

—

This suburb has been brought to you by Annabel Ritchie

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See you next week.

When I was ‘researching’ some potential Hong Kong suburbs before I left Sydney, I got excited about one called Tai Hang. I read that this was where the famous Haw Par Mansion was located, built in 1935 by the family who developed Tiger Balm.

Exotic mansion aside, I’d also heard that Tai Hang was an interesting albeit small neighbourhood west of Central that was worth a squizz.

So off I set off this week to our fourth and final Hong Kong hood, excited to see the mansion. No go. All locked up with scary female guards hanging around.

To make up for it, the universe offered me another architectural gem in Tai Hang. A public housing estate called Lai Tak Tsuen, built in 1975 and unusual because it’s round. Guggenheim-ish type of round.

But I’m jumping ahead. Before all that happened there was Chinese New Year. Let’s go Tai Hang…

Part 1: Kung Hei Fat Choi

Biggest event all year in these parts and surely the smokiest. I feel like I’ve inhaled a pack of cigarettes this week with all the incense and paper offerings being burnt around the place.

But before the temple visits kicked off on Monday, we caught the tail end of the spending frenzy at Victoria Park, just around the corner from Tai Hang.

flowers under scrutiny

oh no Mr Dragon, don't hurt me!

When Monday rolled around it was time for all of Hong Kong to head to both temple and family, bearing gifts in red paper curiously adorned with a Hello Kitty motif. Tai Hang’s temple, Lin Fa, was all go.

smokin' :: 1

smokin' :: 2

smokin' :: 3

it's a serious business

the offerings

no thanks, I couldn't possibly eat another cookie

the Goddess of Mercy and er, Barry

God of wealth

Santa like

school's out for Chinese New Year

but can a dragon ever be truly happy?

Chinese New Year it may be but PJs still need washing

Part 2: Tai Hang’s foodie side

Tai Hang is amazingly tranquil and calm considering it’s only minutes away from chaotic, crowded Causeway Bay. And it has an interesting mix of car/motorbike mechanics and local restaurants. I have no idea why but there you go. At least you can get a good feed while you’re waiting for your vehicle to be serviced.

the mechanic and the cafe

pray, eat

floating fish

meat and rice

I pray that the food is gluten-free

and purple

new kid on the block

Part 3: Lai Tak Tsuen

As I already said, I was after 1935 Renaissance style mansion and instead I got 1975 public housing estate. But Lai Tak Tsuen ain’t no characterless slab of concrete. Two of the three buildings are a bicyclindrical design – two cylinders stuck together essentially. I was completely captivated by the curvy structures, so much so that I snuck in with Coco when the guard wasn’t looking to explore. For once my risk-adverse child entered into the spirit of adventure and tip-toed around with me while I snapped.

home sweet home :: 1

home sweet home :: 2

Ground floor

so 70s

cards at my place tonight okay?

I'm seeing circles everywhere I look

tropical yet cold and wet

lonely no more

yay, we're on the top floor

view from 26

and especially no throwing globes off the roof okay kids

but they see green :: 1

but they see green :: 2

pink

I wonder if Roger the cleaner guy lives here

Guggenheim-ish

And for what it’s worth, this is what I saw of Haw Par Mansion. Better than nout I guess.

glorious decay

The Wrap

People talk about Tai Hang’s appeal as being a quirky little corner of Hong Kong with a handful of good restaurants, both old style and ‘now’, interspersed with greasy old mechanic shops. But what I really enjoyed was spiraling up the inner core of a public housing estate, imagining what its residents were like by examining the little bits and pieces on display. It was a fitting way to end our stay in this enigmatic city, a city that pretends to put it all out there but in reality, hides so much away.

Coco on 18

On the ‘home’ front

Coco and I just want to say a huge thanks to our friends in Hong Kong, Dennis and Anna, for their input and friendship over the past four weeks. And to the wonderful Nurul, for holding Coco’s hand tight and saving her from endless hours out ‘blogging’ with boring old mum. You guys were awesome.

—

This suburb has been brought to you by Gavin Blue

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See you next week – in New Delhi!

Having ventured north in week one and south-ish in week two, I thought we’d head west to Sheung Wan for suburb No 3. I also chose it because it’s our local hood and feeling less than 100% recently, I didn’t want to roam far.

A lightening quick lesson on Sheung Wan before we set off. Located on Hong Kong Island, between Central and Sai Ying Pun. Name means either Upper or Gateway District; the latter would make sense considering Sheung Wan is where the British stabbed the Union Jack in the ground and declared Hong Kong their own.

But that was way back in 1842. What’s the place like in 2012? Glad you asked…

Part 1: Sassy Sheung Wan

If Sham Shui Po was a nice old man and Cheung Chau a gentle aunty, I reckon Sheung Wan is your glamour girl. Smart glamour girl that is, striding confidently forward into the modern age with a respect for the past and an understanding of both East and West. This is where cool cafes and chichi art galleries rub shoulders with temples, markets and lots of dried stuff in jars.

A line

light and sound

preferably delivered to my door

West East

c'est vrai

pretty boy

look left, look right, look left and right again

mieow

shooting hoops

Have you noticed how much yellow, red and green there are in the images by the way? It hit me this week how so much of everything is one or more of those colours and now I see them everywhere. Yellow is earth, red, fire and green, wood. Three of the Five Elements that Chinese hold so dear.

everything's yellow, green and red, from the sacred to the sorted

even oil drums are red and green

Part 2: Old Sheung Wan – the faces

Forward looking and fast changing it may be, but Sheung Wan is still very ‘old Hong Kong’ in many ways. From the people who’ve worked and lived here forever to the buildings that house them.

the street vendor

the printer

moveable type

the cook...

and his customers

the barber

Part 3: Old Sheung Wan – the places

Lower Sheung Wan, near the MTR, hustles and bustles with great gusto. But heading away from the harbour, climbing up the mountain, the neighbourhood calms down. This is especially true around the old terraces (as in large landings not buildings). With no cars and large outside communal areas, they are literally a breath of fresh air. Helpful on washing day in particular.

drying machine :: 1

drying machine :: 2

(By the way, have you tweaked that something is a little different with the above two images? I got my hands on a tilt shift lens for the first time, just to borrow. Tricky little gadget that allows you to play with focus, softening it where you couldn’t with a normal lens. In the image below, for example, the ledge over the window is strangely soft. Like?)

metal windows

Anyway, two terraces really caught my eye. The first is Wing Lee Street where a row of dilapidated tenement buildings from the 1960s was set to be demolished until a film made them famous; the government has backed off for now but as far as I could gather, the future of the dear old things is still in question. Funny thing is, just around the corner a couple of very similar buildings look in much better shape and are obviously well cared for. Here’s hoping their neighbours follow suit.

Wing Lee Street

neglected

nurtured

this could be...

this

The other terrace that I found interesting is Tai On Terrace. In one short street you can see Sheung Wan’s past and future.

what does this have in common with...

this?

they're neighbours

The old carpenter’s shop and the funky new design agency. It is sad to think that the carpenter will one day be pushed out – but at least they’re not knocking the whole street down and putting up some ugly, obnoxious tower. Not yet anyway.

Not a terrace but a shop on Jervois Street in lower Sheung Wan, Yuen Kut Lam, also caught my eye. A beautiful, almost century old shop that sells herbs and medicinal teas. You could’ve knocked me over with a feather when I stumbled upon it. 

Yuen Kut Lam

100 years of herbs

film star looks

a remnant of older Hong Kong

Part 4: Another New Year

Come this time next week, Chinese New Year will have come and gone. But right now, it’s all go. Every self-respecting Chinese is busy choosing their kumquat or peach blossom tree and buying decorations, food and sweets for the big day. To me it feels like Christmas all over again, minus the reindeer.

like Christmas but not :: 1

like Christmas but not :: 2

like Christmas but not :: 3

only peach blossoms may park here

wall to wall kumquats

it's their time to shine

flower shops are at full tilt

stocking up on sweeties

get me home

Aside from organising one’s bits and pieces, there are temples to visit and gods to worship. In Sheung Wan there are a couple of beauties, including the very old and original Man Mo Temple.

quick, to the temple to pay our respects, and don't forget the oranges

Part 5: Eat street

Aside from a handful of modern cafes aimed largely at the western market, Sheung Wan is filled to the brim with zillions of tiny eateries serving local fare. And although 7-11s have sprouted up everywhere, there are still enough corner shop types to make the neighbourhood seem, well, neighbourly.

eat and be merry

staples of the Chinese diet, rice and fish

mmm, dried fish

the corner store

fruity

On one day I hung around the corner store and the ‘fruity’ place for a good hour experimenting with the tilt shift lens. I don’t know what was more entertaining, the Rubik’s Cube nature of the lens or the constant stream of bodies rushing past me; Hong Kong is a busy place. Busy I tell you.

busy

coming and going

dreaming

The Wrap

There seems to me to be two very different Sheung Wans. The one further up the hill, above Hollywood Road, is relaxed and aside from the temples, seems quite western and modern. Whereas the Sheung Wan that’s below Hollywood Road, closer to the MTR, moves at full pelt and feels more Chinese and old style. Might explain why the place has really grown on me these past few weeks; depending on what you feel like, East or West, slow or fast, modern or traditional, you can swap between the different worlds just by crossing a road.

Coco, enjoying herself before 'school' starts

On the ‘home’ front

Thanks to everyone who wished Coco and I a speedy recovery. We’re back to normal more or less, save for a paranoia about air quality that’s fueled (excuse the pun) every morning with yet more news about how bad the situation is here. I spit the dummy regularly and find a good rant at belching exhaust pipes to be helpful. Coco meanwhile just slaps on her kiddy surgical mask and gets on with it. Such wisdom in one so small.

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Introducing a new element to the weekly post – something I completely forgot to do in the first two weeks – where I thank a different supporter of the project each week, like so…

This suburb has been brought to you by Jacquelyn Nolan

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See you next week, our last one in Hong Kong before we hit Delhi. (Yes, I know, not exactly the home of fresh air either. Yikes.)

In need of a break from Hong Kong’s 7,650 skyscrapers, countless low-scrapers and scary hazy air, I got off the island this week – and headed to another of Hong Kong’s 236 islands, Cheung Chau.

I’ve been to Cheung Chau before many years ago but only as a ‘tourist’. This time I wanted to leave the waterfront and seafood cafes to the daytrippers and explore up into the hills where the locals live.

Some facts about Cheung Chau before we wander. A 30 minute ‘fast ferry’ ride from Central, the island is one of the oldest inhabited areas in Hong Kong, with estimates as high as 7,000 years. Fishing village originally and still is with a harbour full of boats and nothing over three storeys on land. Population swells by the thousands once a year during the annual Bun Festival. Cars are banned except for a few emergency vehicles. Name means ‘Long Island’ despite the fact it weighs in at a tiny 2.45 km².

Okay, let’s do it.

Part 1: Day 1 wander

Unbeknownst to me at the time, I was coming down with an upper respiratory infection when I first set foot on Cheung Chau last Saturday. Which explains why I wandered around in a kind of daze, my only thought being to explore beyond the waterfront.

leaving the big smoke behind, literally

where bikes rule the roads

exercise then eat

folds

temple vs church

battle's on dude

Chinese New Year, just around the corner

out for their midday stroll

is that a Canon 5D?

rub it in why don't you

love

protect your wealth or just wear it in your teeth

gold is god

I kept bumping into temples on my wander but the one that intrigued me most was dedicated to a feisty looking god, Kwan Ti. While I was there I thought I’d give the fortune sticks a go; you shake them while thinking of a question and the one that drops out of the container first gives you the answer. I asked how this year would go, shook the sticks in front of Kwan Ti, and waited to hear my destiny from a man behind a desk with lots of little papers. After consulting his big book I got the thumbs up – apparently 2012 is going to rock. No pressure but I’m counting on you Kwan Ti.

shaking the sticks before the mighty Kwan Ti

and the result is ...

Leaving Kwan Ti to his business I resumed my wander. Just down the hill I stopped to photograph a pale blue wall. Mid-shot, its owner suddenly appeared. As I was explaining to Belgium-born Catherine that I liked her wall and er, would she mind me shooting it, two street-sweepers wearing the traditional Hakka hat strode up the hill. A rare sight, I gestured to them if I could take their photograph. Smiling shyly they shook their heads. Until Catherine uttered ten words of Cantonese and converted them into almost-willing subjects. Ah, what I’d do for an instant grasp of the local language.

Catherine of Cheung Chau

Hakka hats :: 1

Hakka hats :: 2

hard yakker in a Hakka

Part 2: Eugen’s house

Catherine, who has lived in Hong Kong for 20+ years, 17 on Cheung Chau, told me about another long-time ‘foreign local’ and friend of hers, Eugen, who lived in an old interesting house, the only one of its kind on the island. Was I interested? Hell yeah.

So two days later I met Eugen and the 70 year old house he has rented for the past 20 something years. How was it? Let me show you…

the entrance

outside in

Mister Eugen, very nice picture

east west

no no, not the kitchen please!

the parlour

flowers on the wall

late afternoon :: 1

late afternoon :: 2

window love

The house belongs to a Chinese family and has been divided up into sections over the years, one of which is Eugen’s home. But at least it’s still standing and so much of it is still so original, like the many insets, high windows and stone floor. An ideal setting for Eugen’s blend of precious with lap sap (rubbish). 

I also loved the ancestral shrine on the top floor of the house belonging to the Chinese family. Sure, the incense and candle burning has taken its toll over the years but what a lovely way to keep your loved ones alive so to speak.

Oh and the place has ghosts Eugen told me. They smile and play nice. How cool is that?

respect

grandpa

Part 3: Lin Cheung and other dearly departed

I’d heard of the Chinese custom of building and then burning 3D paper models of someone’s favourite things upon their death to ensure they have a comfy afterlife. Just never seen it. Until my visit to Cheung Chau when I stumbled on an almost full size car and other various objects made out of colourful paper. Peering into the models I noticed an ID card stuck to the paper – Lin Cheung, 85 years old.

Lin Cheung

these are a few of her favourite things

The day after I’d seen that I was on the ferry coming back to Cheung Chau when I noticed little yellow papers being thrown off the back of the ferry. Turns out there was a coffin on board and relatives of the deceased were performing another ritual associated with death – offering paper ‘money’ to the ghosts in the sea to placate them and keep them from bothering the dead. Not entirely sure how the dead can be bothered (anyone?) but that’s approximately the story.

keeping the ghosts happy :: 1

keeping the ghosts happy :: 2

Now, fair enough, they didn’t want me to photograph the coffin or the procession of relatives that left the ferry and made their way to the square. But was this Lin Cheung I wanted to know? On my third and last visit to the island I made the long trek over to the far side of Cheung Chau to the cemetery there. I wanted to find Lin Cheung.

on the way to find Lin Cheung

where are you Lin Cheung?

There was no sign of a newly installed headstone and as it was getting late I headed back. (Eugen later told me I was looking in the wrong area; the custom is that they bury the coffins in a certain area and then seven years later, the bodies are disinterred and organised into these smaller plots.)

Just before I jumped on the ferry I noticed a new lot of paper models had arrived in the square, this time for a man. Another dearly departed soul, a Merc driving, Mahjong playing one at that.

no guessing what type of car he drove

his Mahjong buddies

the Merc driver's send off

Why so many funerals I wondered. Turns out that Cheung Chau is considered an auspicious place to be buried because it has good feng shui. Not to mention great ocean views.

four funerals and a wedding

Part 4: Old Cheung Chau

Some of which I found on my trek to try and find Lin Cheung, some just when wandering around.

in need of tender love

Europe-ish, aside from the mad wall

Europe-ish

how old does that look

old shop

and the obsession continues

mail but no mail box

go get the mail junior

criss cross

lethal looking

see through

5: Surprising Cheung Chau

Very simply this is something I never expected to see or hear anywhere in Hong Kong let alone on Cheung Chau – bagpipes.

a Chinese Scotsman?

from the Scottish isles to the islands of HK

Part 6: Fishy Cheung Chau

On one of my visits to Cheung Chau, with some time to kill before a ferry arrived and Coco at my side, I decided to break with tradition and do something completely touristy – hire a little putt putt boat for a spin around Cheung Chau Harbour. Of course I was more interested in the old wood inside the boat than the scenery around me.

patina on a putt putt

captain

spin around the harbour

as you were

cat fish

right back at you

ciao Cheung Chau

The Wrap

It’s pretty remarkable that chilled Cheung Chau is just 30 minutes from hyper Hong Kong. There are parts of the island where I didn’t see or hear another living soul for what seemed like an eternity. And for someone with a brewing chesty coldy thing, it was a welcome breath of fresh air. But most of all I enjoyed exploring an old house that has managed to escape the wrecking ball. I just wished I could have paid my respects to Lin Cheung. Never met the woman but may never forget her either.

address is Far from the Maddening Crowd, Cheung Chau

On the ‘home’ front

Coco and I have both been under the weather this week. She with a garden variety head cold that passed quickly. Me, not so lucky. But I’m on the mend now and may resort to wearing one of those face masks you see everywhere here to ward off any more evilness. Be a good look wouldn’t it? Being asked by a woman wearing a mask and wielding a camera if she can take your photo?

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See you next Friday.

After months of desk slog to get this project off the ground, 52 Suburbs Around the World is finally off and running. Hooray and welcome!

We’re kicking off in Hong Kong where we’ll be exploring a suburb each week over the next month, starting today.

I chose this ex-British colony turned Special Administrative Region of the People’s Republic of China to be part of the project because it satisfies my number one ‘criteria’: it’s one of the world’s most famous cities but it’s rarely celebrated for more than its skyscrapers and shopping. Okay, its skyline and retail offerings are pretty impressive but as you’ll know if you followed my previous Sydney-based project, 52 Suburbs, I’m not impressed by the shiny new. What floats my boat – and I’m hoping yours too – is the stuff that provides a portal into a bygone era. Old buildings, peeling paint. Or the repurposed and recycled. Or just everyday details that are really quite beautiful.

So. Having settled on the city, my next decision was which suburb(s) to explore. Hong Kong doesn’t have suburbs as such. Instead this city of seven million people is divided up into 18 districts which each include a handful of gaai fong or neighbourhoods. I chose Sham Shui Po to be our first neighbourhood because it’s one of the oldest – and old is good if you’re after patina.

In-depth research (alright, barely any but come one, it’s tricky researching the uncelebrated) revealed that aside from peeling paint, I would also find two types of housing that particularly interest me in Sham Shui Po. One being Tong Lau shophouses that used to be in abundance but are now rare as hen’s teeth. The other, the first public housing estate built in the 1950s, Shek Kip Mei.

Some facts about the place before we start. Name means ‘deep water pier’. To get there you have to leave Hong Kong Island (you’ll be fine) and head to the other side of the harbour, to north-west Kowloon. It’s one of the most densely populated and poorest areas in Hong Kong but includes a thriving electronics market where men actually like to shop.

Without further ado, let’s go Sham Shui Po!

Part 1: In search of Tong Lau – and other endangered species

I first discovered and fell in love with shophouses – where people work on the ground floor and live upstairs – when I went to Singapore years ago. Having no idea that they existed in Hong Kong, I was thrilled to read that there are a smattering of them around the place, including some in Sham Shui Po.

So off I went, hell bent on finding a Tong Lau or two. It was not easy. While there is an increasing awareness of heritage and the importance of retaining the old in this city, most Tong Lau have been demolished and replaced by eew, modern ugly stuff.

Still, I found a few and what’s more, while I was roaming around in search of them, I stumbled across some other interesting patina and developed a few new obsessions as I went – old metal shutters, curved corner buildings and, what I like to call, mail-doors.

Tong Lau, is that you?

how's that for patina?

Lisa's shop from the 1950s :: 1

Lisa's shop from the 1950s :: 2

They were the three examples of Tong Lau that I could find in all my hours of wandering. But as I said, along the way I developed some more obsessions. Old metal shutters being one of them – especially when they curve. I found a few but they were mostly shut – until I stumbled on a scissor-sharpener working away behind one. We couldn’t speak a word of eachother’s language but he took pity on the strange woman wielding a camera at his shop and kindly gave me a brief demo of how his ancient shutter system worked.

scissor shop shutters

I hope his name is Edward

then and now

thanks Edward

These old shutters are fast being replaced by ugly rollerdoors so I was glad to see quite a few of them still exist, in various shapes and sizes…

nice curves

keeping out the cold

decorative security

lights, camera, action

The other features that caught my eye were the curved corner buildings and the mailboxes…

Miami vice?

Cordelia, keeping traffic in line

mail door

pass it on

mail at 220

Oh, one last ‘feature’ that I doubt is ever celebrated much – Hong Kong’s bamboo scaffolding and ‘shrouding’ system. Practical yes but quite beautiful too.

Christo-esque

Part 2: Shek Kip Mei

Half of Hong Kong live in some form of public housing apparently. The very first estate is on Sham Shui Po’s doorstep, Shek Kip Mei. It was built in 1953 after a massive fire swept through the area, destroying a shanty town of immigrants from mainland China. Shek Kip Mei was the beginning of Hong Kong’s vertical solution to overcrowding – multi-storey public housing. Most of Shek Kip Mei’s orignal 1950s buildings have been replaced – except one, currently being ‘revitalised’ – but other more recent buildings still exist.

After the denseness of Sham Shui Po, the housing estate’s enormous courtyards provided a welcome sense of space and air.

tall, short and shrouded

22

young and old

happiness is a playground and a blue sky :: 1

happiness is a playground and a blue sky :: 2

see ya 22

Part 3: Hungry?

Of the three trips that I made to Sham Shui Po, one was in the early morning – breakfast time. Not a cornflake in sight. Instead lots of steaming bamboo baskets, filled with delicious looking dumplings of one kind or another. Sadly I couldn’t sample any, being gluten free.

brekkie

tea and dumplings

morning coffee

The next time I visited was during the afternoon – snake soup time. Anyone?

snake

cat in snake soup cafe

stacks

artfully arranged

waiting

slippery floor!

Part 4: To market we go

After seeking out Sham Shui Po’s past, I thought I’d better at least witness its present – a thriving electronics market on Apilu Street and the fabric, ribbon and button stores on Ki Lung and Nam Cheong Streets. A great example of yin and yang right there.

retail heaven for men

Tony does purple

ribbon to match anything including your hair

let's call her Onion because that's her name (apparently)

spun

high gloss

wheels

a bow for the bow wow

Ruby and her technicolour tresses

fringe dwellers

two religions

The Wrap

I spent ten years growing up in Hong Kong but never once visited Sham Shui Po. I so wish I had – imagine all the Tong Lau I would have found back then. Not to mention those curved buildings and metal shutters. Like many older, densely populated parts of Hong Kong, the neighbourhood is changing rapidly. So I left the place feeling grateful I’d seen at least some of the history that is still hanging on. And while the language barrier prevented much interaction with the locals, I did enjoy meeting Edward Scissorhands; I don’t know for sure but I suspect he loves his little shop as much as I do.

the old in the new

On the ‘home’ front

‘Coco, what do you like about Hong Kong?’

‘Um, well, I know what I don’t like – the smells.’

For me, the biggest challenge this week wasn’t olfactory (I find ‘the smells’ familiar and comforting) but more about trying to placate Coco after the first hour out exploring and photographing. It didn’t help that I chose to start the project in one of the most densely populated neighbourhoods in one of the most densely populated cities in the world. But as a precaution against a mutinous eight year old, I’m going to enlist the services of someone next week to look after Coco for a few hours on the days I go out and about. It’ll be worth every penny I’m sure.

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Hope you enjoyed our wander through Sham Shui Po and see you next week.

Well hello there. Welcome to 52 Suburbs Around the World, where grand flashy bits of cities are given the cold shoulder and suburbs rule. (If you’re new to this project and that last sentence made no sense whatsoever, check out the ‘About’ section and all should be clear.)

So here’s how things stand right now. Me, a mix of nerves and excitement, as I explained in my last post over at 52 Suburbs. Eight year old Coco, on the other hand, chilled. Well of course she’s chilled. She has no idea of the myriad disasters that could strike us down over the next 12 months (tad too dramatic? Just saying). In fact, for her, disaster has already happened – no Christmas tree. Hard, I explain, when one is living out of a suitcase. I keep eyeing off those miniature Christmas trees, wondering if I should shell out some ridiculous amount for a stunted spruce. But to be honest, it’s never felt less like Christmas; I keep forgetting about it until I spy a reindeer or tinsel and I’m all, oh yer, it’s Christmas. In truth, I can’t be doing with carols and whatnot when I’m planning world domination. I am woman hear me roar, sure, but there’s a limit.

Anyway, prattle prattle. I really just wanted to welcome you and usher you aboard the 52 Suburbs Around the World private jet plane. There’ll be a slight delay – eight days in fact – but then we’ll be pushing back and taking off. Fasten your seatbelts.

(A little housekeeping before I go: For those already subscribed, no need to do anything. To new arrivals, can I suggest you subscribe – top right-hand corner – to ensure you don’t miss any of the weekly posts. I will try and be regular but it’s likely that the post day will drift from time to time.)