Hong Kong has a shady past. I hope it has a shady future.
A few days after the super-typhoon hit last month, I sat at a café with a view of tree debris.
I watched as a man and woman stopped beside the trunks and began talking, I assumed, about the awfulness of it all. I hoped at least some people would meet through timber not Tinder.
But, as the following weeks took me, and others, on our usual journeys through town, the realisation came that many formerly tree-lined routes were now open to harsh sunlight. Tens of thousands of trees – some leafy and overhanging, others slender and offering just a momentary respite from the sun – were now on the ground, inside roped-off areas, as workers chopped up them up. Most were transported to the old Kai Tak airport where they stretched across an area the size of 12 football pitches. That many branches, boughs, twigs and leaves then sparked a row about whether or not the remains of the trees could be composted.
In Hong Kong, there have always been meetings behind closed doors discussing seed funding and, more covertly, root and branch reform. I hope such gatherings no longer pertain to start-ups and politics, but instead the planting of more trees and a reconsideration of tree policy. One reason so many were easily blown over was their growing situation – little soil in pavements meant roots had no where to go. One expert likened it to growing a tree in a flower pot. Another factor was that branches were often cut back to avoid blocking views from apartment windows; that left the trees potentially unstable.
What isn’t in dispute is that Mangkhut has left shade in short supply in Hong Kong. And if you’re pale skinned, with a ‘shade-dar’ that detects any shadows so you can make for them, the lack of cover is stark.
Against this background, the recent news that scientists at Hong Kong’s Baptist University found chemicals from sunscreen in the waters around Hong Kong carried new impact. The study collected seawater from 30 locations off the Hong Kong coast, and concluded that, after human use, washed-off organic and chemical UV filters in sunscreen eventually enter the sea.
With fewer trees for shade, I for one had been intent upon thicker daily applications of sunscreen. And given the fondness for whitening cosmetics in Asia, I don’t think I am the only one to be concerned by too much exposure to the sun.
Without trees or recourse to sunscreen, what can one do? Is is time to change career and open a parasol business which also sells black ones, called man shields, so blokes can use parasols too?
Whilst mulling, I at least renew my plea for Hong Kong to establish fast walking lanes on its pavements. Liverpool, England, announced three years ago it would introduce such lanes, though it was just a short-term trial rolled out by retailer Argos because people were apparently frustrated by the slow pace of other shoppers. The trial didn’t last long – which yields the pioneer spot for speed-walking lanes to post-Mangkhut Asia.
Perhaps soon we might be urged to do our civic and environmental duty. “Walk fast and leave the sunscreen at home. There may be no trees, but at least save our oceans from lotions.’
Failing that, I hope those in charge of our denuded environments choose the right type of new trees, which is surely any kind that will shoot quickly skyward. Hong Kong is famed for having a high-growth economy, but now the pressure is really on.
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