Few people outside of the Wisconsin Evangelical Synod know of Martin Luther College. Offering only two areas of study with an enrollment of 633, it’s no surprise few people have heard of it. Despite its small size, being an MLC student has given me countless travel perks and advantages all across the globe. “Surely, that can’t be possible!” you’re thinking. Oh, it is, and I run across these perks and advantages on nearly every trip I go on; let me tell you about the time I went to Hong Kong.
I spent the majority of the Summer of 2019 in Hangzhou, China. I went there with the help of several American Friends of China members. “Friends of China is a WELS-affiliated ministry. They’ve have trained and supported over 340 lay missionaries since the year 2000.” (Friends Network). I taught freelance English to Chinese children and a few adults. I also participated and helped lead Bible classes and English workshops.
Towards the end of my stay in China, I decided I wanted to go to Hong Kong. At the time, there was much civil unrest in Hong Kong. The reason behind the civil unrest was the Hong Kong extradition bill, which would have allowed the Hong Kong government to expedite its citizens to mainland China to be judged under China’s law, not Hong Kong’s. At the time, I didn’t think much of the protests and decided to buy a train ticket from Hangzhou to Hong Kong.
Knowing that Asia Lutheran Seminary, a WELS-established school, was in Hong Kong, I took the liberty of finding some MLC contacts. I was put in touch with a seminary Professor, and within minutes of texting him, I had a host family and directions to my home for the week.
China does few things better than the United States, but I will give it to them; their bullet trains are remarkable. Since Hong Kong is its own country, the bullet train couldn’t take me over the border; instead, it took me to Shenzhen, the Silicon Valley of China. From departure to arrival took just under 10 hours, covering 1,000 miles. From Shenzhen, I took a ferry to Hong Kong.
The difference between Hong Kong and mainland China was evident as soon as I stepped outside. There were white people everywhere. Keep in mind I had been the only white person in my apartment complex that housed 10,000 people and was expecting something similar in Hong Kong. Hong Kong is a major international business hub and is home to many foreign nationals.
When I arrived at my homestay, I was greeted by Leo, my host for the week, and a Seminarian student. Leo lived with his mom and dad, who spoke no English. Hong Kong has the most expensive residential property market worldwide, so it’s quite common for families to live with each other. Leo showed me my room; I could tell he’d fashioned an air conditioner to the nightstand so I wouldn’t get too hot (the temperature that day was 105). After they had given me the tour and I had got settled, Leo’s mother signaled to me that dinner was ready. “Free housing and dinner?” I thought to myself. I was even more blown away when I saw Leo’s mother set a platter of lamb chops on the dinner table.
You’d think four people who’d never met each other and didn’t share a common language would have a challenging time conversing at the dinner table; you’d be wrong. The four of us talked incessantly for an hour. I could tell that Leo and his parents wanted to hear about America, and with each question they asked, their excitement and passion grew. I was just as happy to answer their questions and ask some of my own about Hong Kong. I was mesmerized by how effortlessly and calmly Leo could translate my English sentences into Cantonese while I was speaking mid-sentence. Since Leo and his parents all spoke Mandarin, I was able to do a bit of communicating, but Hong Kongers don’t particularly like speaking Mandarin, so I relied heavily on English.
I had allotted two days for Hong Kong and one day for Macau. I packed as much as I could into those two days. I walked through the entire city on the first day, putting on nearly 30 miles. I took advantage of the Westernized food and grabbed some pizza downtown at Paisano’s Pizzeria before heading for Victoria Harbour. There’s quite a bit of liveliness near the Harbour, and watching the Chinese junk boats, or the Aqua Luna’s, float by is pretty neat.
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Later, I headed up to Victoria Peak, the highest hill in Hong Kong. The peak is the perfect spot to gaze at Hong Kong’s skyline and Victoria Harbour. If you travel to Hong Kong, you can buy a ticket to “Sky terrace 428”, which sits at the top of The Peak Tower. The Sky Terrace gives a 360-degree view of Hong Kong. At precisely 8 PM, A Symphony of Lights begins. A Symphony of Lights is a daily light show that uses lasers and lights inside the Hong Kong skyscrapers to produce a truly remarkable performance.
The next evening, while I was waiting at the subway station at Victoria Harbour to go back to my homestay, I began talking to an incredibly tall Dane, who had business in Hong Kong. While we were speaking, we watched as the local news channel showed live protests in Hong Kong. The Dane told me that the protests were only a few blocks away. Naturally, I decided to postpone going to my homestay and instead go check out the protests; after all, when would I get to see protests in Hong Kong again?
As it turned out, the protesters were gathering around the Hong Police Station. As I made my way over to Police Station, I saw crowds of people walking on the freeway, outfitted in all black, heading towards the same destination I was.
I had walked as far as I could before a sea of Hong Kongers prevented me from getting any closer to the Police Station, or so I thought. Behind me was a journalist from Detroit who had a neon vest that read, “PRESS.” The protesters made way for him, creating a path. Using my never-failing intuitiveness, I followed right on his tracks. Not a single person batted an eye or turned their head. We walked a quarter mile, untouched until we were within spitting distance of the Police Station. In front of the police station, two dozen officers, donned in full riot gear, defended the entrance of the Police Station at the bottom of the stairs.
The protest was surreal. An estimated 2 million Hong Kongers were in attendance, which is incredible considering their population is only 7 million. Every single one of them was dressed in all black. Many protesters handed forward umbrellas, conveyor belt style, to deflect police’s pepper spray. Others passed water, beef jerky, granola bars, and protective goggles. The two million protesters would break out in a deafening Cantonese chant every couple of minutes. At one point, one of the leaders with a bullhorn instructed the protesters to turn their flashlights on. The result was beautiful; hundreds of thousands of flashlights were all on simultaneously, as far as the eye could see.
The protest grew so fierce that the Police Officers at the bottom of the stairs retreated to the top of the stairs near the main entrance. Every entrance and exit to the Police Station had been barricaded shut by protesters, trapping all workers in the building. The protesters hurled eggs at the Officers and the sign that read “Hong Kong Police Headquarters.” I noticed behind me a journalist speaking to the camera his assistant was pointing at him. When he was done talking, I asked who he was with. He told me he was reporting live on CNN stateside. I quickly texted my mom and dad to turn on CNN. It was just past 8 AM in Fond du Lac, and the morning news had just started. When my mom saw the chaos in Hong Kong ensuing on the TV, her anxiety level went through the roof.
Eventually, the crowd died down, the smell of pepper spray filled the air, and fog was clearly visible as I walked back to the subway station. There was such significant foot traffic from the 2 million protesters that I spent an hour waiting my turn for the next train. I talked to Hong Kong locals and learned more about the protests, fears, and concerns the citizens had.
When I returned to my homestay, Leo’s mother had a delightful, authentic Cantonese dinner prepared. I told Leo what I had done that day, who translated for his parents. They looked at me in excited horror and jokingly scolded me for going out by myself.
Leo and his parents were phenomenal hosts. They dropped everything on a dime to host me simply because I was an MLC student in need. They gave me a bed, cooked me dinner, and even gave me an Octopus card (Hong Kong subway card). Though I didn’t know it at the time, that was the last night I stayed in Hong Kong. “How come?” you may be asking yourself, to which I reply, “Read my next article.”