Cheung writes: "In Hong Kong, I go to work and see my friends as usual. But I also spend time in a parallel universe of tear gas, barricades and anonymous allies."
Hong Kong protesters. (photo: Getty)
The Mask I Wear on the Weekends
30 August 19
In Hong Kong, I go to work and see my friends as usual. But I also spend time in a parallel universe of tear gas, barricades and anonymous allies.
n August, the air in Hong Kong takes on a life of its own. The winds weep with so much moisture that it often feels suffocating. On one of those stifling days, I welcomed a sweaty handyman into my flat. The tanned, smiling, 30-something stranger, whom I had found on a local household-repair version of “seeking arrangements,” was there to dismantle a spare bed that I was hoping to sell.
As he unscrewed the nails from the bed frame, he asked, “So you’ve been out on the streets, eh?”
I took a step back, immediately suspicious. “What gave it away?”
“There’s a yellow hard hat by your sofa,” he said, laughing. “Don’t worry, I’m out every other week too. I’m with the first aid. Just doing what I can.”
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