visiting Cherry House

My dad was born and raised in Hong Kong. This photo was taken in 1965 when he was 16 years old. From right to left: my great grandpa Wong, my dad, my Yehyeh (dad's dad), Uncle Phil, Auntie Colina (tiny one), Auntie Helen, Uncle Frank and Uncle John. My dad moved to California in 1968 when he was 19 years old by himself. Before this, he lived in Sham Shui Po on the Kowloon side of Hong Kong in an apartment called Cherry House.
The apartment complex was government subsidized housing, meaning the rent was very cheap and the rooms were very small. My Uncle Frank, with whom I am staying with in HK, took me to the complex as it is being torn down this month to clear space for larger buildings. Going to the estate was eerie, many of the apartments had been evacuated and all the doors were chain locked. Limp t-shirts hung on hangers to dry from balcony bars, never to be worn. I peeked into a hallway and saw a sink full of umbrellas and jars of rocks. Unable to enter Cherry House, I poked my camera through the gate to snap a shot of the entry hall. Imagine all the noise through the years, the chipping paint, rusting metal and ghosts that loom in these walls.I came across a photo of my Auntie Colina from the mid 1960s running on a rooftop at the apartment complex and recognized the balcony. Perhaps not Cherry House, but still the same angled railing in the background.

My Uncle Frank shared stories about growing up in Cherry House, the daily routine of my Yehyeh and the neighboring schools. This is the side of Hong Kong I enjoy visiting and it is slowly being knocked down and replaced by shiny, clean, expansive shopping centers. My search for the old Hong Kong continues.