September 2008

International travelers know Hong Kong for its shopping, food and vertiginous views of skyscrapers and mountains on a tiny island in the South China Sea. In a way these are the images that linger from a short trip to China’s Special Administrative Region. I spent three months in Hong Kong, however, and felt its heart and strength between skyscrapers, on the streets and overpasses, outside the luxury brand stores.

On Sunday the city is transformed by hundreds of thousands of “amas,” the nannies and domestic workers who anchor affluent households and are all but invisible six days per week.

My first Sunday in Hong Kong, I heard Cantonese take a day of rest and Tagalog fill the streets and buses, alleyways and parks. Tens of thousands of women – and they are nearly all women – smile and wave to friends as they pack buses and streetcars to converge downtown. Servants of globalization, these women care for rich children and busy couples during the week, powering Hong Kong’s domestic economy and sending money to their own children and parents in the Philippines.

Each Sunday Filipinas organize talent shows, quiz bowls, beauty contests, musical productions, comedy shows and more – all performed outside in the streets of this towering financial hub. Ethnic minority groups practice regional dances and evangelicals preach the path while labor activists organize in the crowds. Mostly, however, women sit together in large and small groups to trade stories, share food, cut hair, play cards and stretch out on overpasses, curbs, and even whole streets shut down for their use. Women lean against Fendi store windows to unpack picnic lunches. Women compare family photographs and trade Pinoy celebrity gossip magazines. Women strum guitars and remember their favorite songs. Women teach English and practice for Canadian immigration exams.

Although some of the estimated 250,000 overseas domestic workers in Hong Kong report abuse in their employer’s home, the women I met knew the costs and were proud to support their families by working in Hong Kong. Their children are raised by grandparents back home, husbands left for years at a time. On Mother’s Day, women wear corsages they give each other and pose for photos with Hong Kong’s iconic skyline to send home. The sun sets, neon rises, and still these workers savor the last minutes of conversation and community, before they disappear into apartments and homes and return Hong Kong to its vacant postcard beauty.