Where You Really Come From

Do you know when the British forces first occupied Hong Kong Island in 1841, there were only less than 8,000 people living in Hong Kong?

That is to say almost every Hongkonger we know today is the next generation(s) of migrants — migrants from Mainland China (Shanghai, Guangdong, Fujian etc), India, South Asia, Vietnam, Britain, Australia, and the whole world! That is also what “Lau Zone” (撈鬆) — presented by the multi-talented trio of Yuri Ng, Anna Lo and Rick Lau — taught me tonight when I enjoyed the poignant yet playful cabaret on the rich variety of Chinese dialects at Hong Kong’s very own culture spot, Tai Kwun in Central.

“Lau Zone” is the Cantonese colloquial term used towards non-Cantonese natives, which essentially includes most Hongkongers of previous generations, as most of them were immigrants to the former British colony. All the immigrants made Hong Kong a unique place in the world where you may be often curious to know where s/he (and her/his families) originally came from. And of course sometimes you may be asked the same question too, especially when you travel or move abroad.

I was born in Shanghai, and I was relocated by my former baron, then the British news agency Reuters, to Hong Kong about 15 years ago. I have called Hong Kong my “home” since then. After all, home is where your heart belongs.

I learned Cantonese after I moved to Hong Kong and I truly love learning and speaking Cantonese (btw, you can also write in Cantonese, which has many special characters!) but I do speak Cantonese with my Shanghai accent as all my friends can tell. It’s hard to speak like a native of Hong Kong and I never intend to do so. Accent tells people where you originally came from and no one should hide that. It’s about your origin, just as a matter of fact, and it’s about your root. Everyone has his/her root.

Perhaps due to my Shanghai legacy, I know quickly that I became a fan of “Lau Zone” when Anna began to sing the traditional nursery rhyme in Shanghai dialect at the beginning of the drama.

I know there must be still a lot of Shanghainese people (and of course, their second or third generations) living in Hong Kong, though it is a very rare chance you will speak to someone in Shanghai dialect in Hong Kong nowadays unless you are really sure. I once bumped into former Chief Secretary Henry Tang at a private party and we began to talk about Shanghai. Once he realised my hometown is Shanghai, Henry began to try to show off his Shanghai dialect, well, just a few sentences. But that was fun and I still remember how quickly just a few sentences in Shanghai dialect got us connected emotionally.

“Where are you from? Where did you really come from?” This is the question asked again and again in the drama. As the official introduction of “Lau Zone” explains, this trivial bit of information seems to be useful only while filling in application forms. However, what else does our place of ancestry represent? Other than a few slang words, Hong Kong people are all but detached from the dialects spoken fluently among the older generations. It feels like a bittersweet relationship, doesn’t it?

Congratulations to Anna and the crew of “Lau Zone” to remind all of us about the uniqueness of Hong Kong and our “hometowns” — aka our 鄉下, not Japan or Korea, which I know many Hongkongers often joke about for their holiday time.

Hong Kong has been always a dream place of migrants. Migrants then became “Hongkongers”, who created what Hong Kong is today and the legend of Lion Rock will go on. So will the spirit of Hong Kong.

上海人的一些神話

一轉眼，已經是人間四月天，在2022年最初的四個月內，有兩件事情讓上海一度成為大家關注的焦點，一件事是眼下的疫情，說來話長，100個上海人可能有200個傷心故事可以訴說，我就不在這贅述了。另外一件事情則是因為一部電影而引發的大家對上海的激烈討論，這部電影就是《愛情神話》。

電影《愛情神話》嚴格來講應該算是2021年作品，因為她首發於2021年聖誕節前夕，不過等她真的衝出上海，影響力擴及兩岸三地甚至美國和加拿大，那還是最近幾個月的事情。如果說最近的疫情讓上海的國際形象陷入前所未有的低谷，電影《愛情神話》又真是把全國人民對上海人乃至上海的“羨慕嫉妒恨”推到了已經多年未見的高潮。

聽說《愛情神話》的導演邵藝輝並非土生土長上海人，但我不得不佩服她對上海的細微觀察，很難想像這是在上海生活幾年的人就能深刻把握到的，我也因此相信導演是一個真正愛上上海的人，她對《愛情神話》的投入可能也算是她對上海的愛的一種回報。

電影中有五個關於上海的細節令我印象深刻，這五個細節可能特別對像我這樣出生於上海，但又已背井離鄉十多年的人來說，尤其感慨萬千，一來感慨原來還有人記住上海以及上海人的這些特點，二來也感慨還有多少的上海特點我們還能傳承下去。

咖啡

上海人喜歡喝咖啡，全國人民都知道，有些人甚至會對此有種鄙視的態度，因為不止一個人和我提過，你們上海人，向來崇洋媚外，喜歡喝咖啡，咖啡有什麼好喝的，中國人喝茶，茶才有文化。

說這樣話的人也真是沒有境界，咖啡和茶，從來就不是魚和熊掌不可兼得那樣對立。在上海，喜歡喝茶的也大有人在，茶和咖啡都可以在上海流行，這也恰恰是上海足以海納百川的最佳體現。 

電影中，從馬路邊的修鞋匠到男主角老白（徐崢飾），還有老白和李小姐（馬伊琍飾）約會，哪怕是電影結尾，都離不開“一起喝杯咖啡”這樣的細節。作為歷史上乃至今時今日仍是內地最開放的城市，咖啡是上海之精氣神所在，喝杯咖啡，氣定神閒，然後繼續幹活，上海人為全國做出更大的貢獻。

地段

上海人可能是全國人民中最講究“地段”的。 

地段代表什麼？地段代表面子。上海人最愛講面子。面子又是什麼？面子即尊嚴。家裡再沒錢，出來也要有模有樣。以前逢年過節，每個上海人，無論男女老少，都會做好自己的頭型，穿新衣服，給晚輩的紅包更是免不了。“再怎麼樣，也不要給人看不起。”這是很多上海家庭常說的。多多少少上海人正是在這樣一種激勵下成長起來，然後終於做出一番屬於自己的事業。

電影中李小姐的媽媽家在永康路，這個地段在上海真是好到不可以再好。雖然走進去看看，屋子比較雜亂，面積很小，但正如老一代上海人常說的那句話“寧要浦西一張床，不要浦東一間房”，而今你問問身邊的上海人，可能絕大多數上海人內心依然有種對浦西特有的仰慕與眷戀，如果可以選，十個上海人可能有九個選浦西，開一個玩笑，另一個上海人可能正準備出國⋯⋯

電影中的老白和李小姐住的不遠，也算是“上只角”，老白家屋頂上還有幾個衛星電視的天線，導演對這個細節的把握也是非常厲害。上海人肯定是全國最早一批自己在家裡安裝衛星電視的，尤其是在我成長的年代，哪個上海家庭可以看到“鳳凰衛視”，大家就覺得他們家好像特別厲害。因為衛星電視的事未必合法，原則上除了一些涉外小區，其他大多都是自己偷偷摸摸裝的，後來政府還專門整頓過幾次，但是依然擋不住上海人對外面世界的好奇心。當然，這在某些人看來，又是一個上海人如何“崇洋媚外”的罪狀⋯⋯

自行車與城管

電影開始沒多久就發生這樣一個重要的小插曲，可能算是“男二”的老烏騎著自行車（上海人叫“腳踏車”）去家裡附近的小酒吧喝杯東西，老烏剛剛把車在馬路邊停好，一個操外地口音的城管馬上衝上來叫老烏不要停在這邊，老烏據理以爭，結果還是不敵城管的恐嚇，乖乖騎車走人。 

老烏於是對老白留下一句話，說他不能再在這個地方（上海）待下去了，他過幾天就要去歐洲。最令我驚訝的是老烏更進一步說了句，上海已經不是他的上海了，現在上海人都被其他人管起來了。

短短幾句，感慨萬千。

我相信老烏說這句話的時候絕對不是“仇外”，而老白也特別提到，如何定義上海人，上海人祖上可以說全部都是外地人。但是，我們也不能忽視眼下存在著許多“喧賓奪主”的問題，比如有些人覺得上海人講上海話就是“仇外”，自己也不想去了解上海的一些本地文化和習慣。久而久之，許多對立面就形成了，這是大家都不願見到的。我對這點感同身受，老烏一句“上海已經不是他的上海了”又何嘗不是今天許多香港人對香港的困惑與焦慮的寫照。

想起My Little Airport《美麗新香港》中的一段歌詞，歌中這樣唱到：“這世界只有一種鄉愁，是你不在身邊的時候，這香港已不是我的地頭，就當我在外地飄流⋯⋯”

Jimmy Choo與蝴蝶酥

上海人歷來注重生活品味。品味是什麼？品味是你對人生的一種態度。

李小姐一個月收入可能兩三萬人民幣，但她就是要拿出三分之一的錢給自己買一雙Jimmy Choo的高跟鞋，也硬是要給女兒上雙語國際學校，這些都是李小姐對自己人生的一種態度。

生活品味未必總是要花上幾萬塊錢才能獲得，比如電影中提到的“蝴蝶酥”，還特別提到上海的國際飯店的蝴蝶酥最好吃，這樣的享受其實不需要花太多錢，但也恰恰是上海人對生活品味追求的一種映射。言下之意，我要吃蝴蝶酥，就吃最好的，就吃我最信得過的，否則我寧可不吃。

這讓我想起最近疫情下的上海，有人拍了一組照片，說上海人就是“矯情”，超市裡面東西都搶光了，剩下的都是一些最便宜的午餐肉，哪怕日常用的廁所紙，最快被搶光的都是大牌子，那些最廉價的反而一直被拋棄在上海的超市貨架上，無人問津。

話說回來，李小姐也確實是典型的上海人，馬伊琍演的非常到位。劇中的李小姐特別知道如何拿捏分寸，什麼情況下說什麼樣的話，老白說他要幫李小姐買一雙新的Jimmy Choo，李小姐馬上說她自己那雙舊的鞋只不過是“淘寶貨”，200塊搞定，那是因為李小姐不想老白花錢，尤其在大家關係還不確定的時候，最好不要欠人情。

李小姐關於Jimmy Choo的這個細節其實也是許多上海人的一個性格特點。你幫我，我也幫你，但是我也不想欠你太多人情，你在上海，經常會聽到本地人說一句“伐好意思”（不好意思），這點和香港（廣東話叫“唔該”）和台灣社會的價值觀很相近。話說回來，香港和台灣在內戰後的幾代移民中，上海人也確實佔了不小比例。

老烏

最後我想說說老烏（周野芒飾）這個角色。 

有些人可能覺得老白是一號男主角，因為電影英文片名“B for Busy”就是源於老白（Bai），但我倒是覺得老烏作為男二號，是給整部戲對上海的描寫和理解做了非常重要的提升。沒有老烏，《愛情神話》就只不過是一部上海弄堂市井小品，有了老烏，大家才進一步體會到上海以及上海人與世界的連結。

歷史上，上海是全國最開放的城市，也曾是全國最富有的城市，舊上海的開放（以當時上海的國際大都市地位而言）和富有（從中央銀行到上海四大家族的財力）可能連今天的香港都望塵莫及。去年不幸去世的世界著名漢學家、耶魯大學教授史景遷（Jonathan Spence）曾經還在耶魯專門開過一門關於上海的課，通過上海來解剖分析整個中國的近代史和價值觀，也可見上海對中國的重要性。

時過境遷，上海今天於全國而言依然相當重要，是內地最具國際連結的金融中心城市，而老烏這個角色從某種意義上說也是新舊上海的一種傳承。新舊交替，有很多變化，也有很多不變，比如上海人對外面世界的嚮往與追求，我不覺得這是什麼“崇洋媚外”，這反而可以理解成上海從來就是中國“改革開放”的最佳典範。

老烏身上有很多所謂“海派文化”的體現，比如大家常說的“洋涇浜英文”，他甚至還會講幾句法語（我在上海時就讀的光明中學，也是我的外公就讀的學校，至今仍保留很好的法語教學以及與法國一些學校師生的交流），比如他和老白的友誼，那種上海人常說的“模子”精神，即便大家沒有血緣關係，但卻因為理念和境界的一致，走到一起，兄弟情深，有難同當，再比如老烏對女性的尊敬，無論老烏交過多少女朋友，但他捫心自問都對得起每一段感情，每次都是真心付出過⋯⋯

老烏最終走的很突然，就好像上海的時代交替，忽然間，一切就停止了，然後新的篇章被打開，大家的生活還是會繼續，雖然偶爾也會想起過去的一些事情。

因為疫情的關係，我也差不多快三年沒有回上海了，電影《愛情神話》讓我重拾很多對上海的美好回憶，更何況可以一次性聽完全片差不多兩個小時的上海話對白，這也不禁令我有些慚愧，在香港一直不講上海話，自己對一些上海話的用詞都已略感生疏了。

記憶就是這樣，越來越模糊，也好像越來越深刻，但歸根究底，我們都還是會記住。

（完）

Cui Jian is still Cui Jian

I interviewed Cui Jian (崔健), aka the “Godfather of Chinese rock’n’roll”, when I first started my career as an entertainment news reporter in Shanghai. I still remember he gave me a signed poster after the interview. I was just thrilled.

Cui Jian is widely considered as the “John Lennon or Bob Dylan of China.” My generations all grew up with his songs — those are more than just songs. If you want to understand China and its vast changes, listen to Old Cui.

He gave a live concert online on April 15 Friday, especially for those who are in lockdowns still. The live concert attracted about 45 million audience online — quite a surprise to Cut himself as well as the government perhaps.

At home or abroad, Cui’s fame is always associated with Chinese politics. In more recent years, Cai has been quite low profile as he worked more behind the scenes on music production and tried to find and grow new and younger talents.

While I was listening to his long-awaited live concert with many of my friends in China on WeChat, they shared exactly the same feeling — Cui didn’t age too much; Spiritually, he’s still the Old Cui we know. You can feel the energy and passion even from behind the screens rather than in person.

Cui told a local host at the end of the concert that he felt nowadays people focused too much on materials and tried to create and waste too many resources. “That kind of attitude (of greed) can result in conflicts, and even wars,” he added.

When Cui began to sing “The Lost Season” (迷失的季節), some netizens sent “Freedom” in live comments!

It means a lot. Indeed, after so many years and especially nowadays, let’s not forget what freedom really means to all of us. Freedom makes you proud. Freedom makes a nation proud.

微博，十年

這週參加一個晚宴，居然同桌偶遇一個微博「粉絲」，話說都已經追蹤我微博十年有餘，還同鄰桌其他朋友介紹說，這就是「滬港小生」，真是令我有些慚愧。自己沒想過有那麼大影響力，也覺得最近幾年因為這樣那樣的原因，微博上的文字分享也不如以往那麼豐富⋯⋯

科技發展真的很快，我確實屬於比較早一批開始玩微博的，也可能是因為自己本來做記者的原因，對社交媒體上手比較快。因為微博，我認識了不少朋友（或者說網友），以前也確實經常有發生在現實生活中以「你就是滬港小生」這樣的緣由做互相問候的開場白。

也因為微博，我也吃過不少苦頭，十年前可能還比較意氣用事，別人說你一句，你忍不住最好回十句。這十年，也因為這樣那樣的原因，期間也考慮過好像其他朋友一樣，不如停了微博，眼不見為淨，也越來越不知道還可以說什麼，越來越不確定什麼不可以說。

人生苦短，特別是不惑之年之後，如果一件事情太折騰，不如不做，浪費大家時間。

這十年上微博，最欣慰莫過於偶爾收到一些不認識的朋友的私訊，比如有一個大學生給我發消息說，因為經常看我微博，最終決定來香港大學讀新聞，她覺得改變了她的人生。那一刻，我真的覺得原來自己的文字和分享確實可以影響到他人，我想這也是很多曾經的同行選擇做新聞的初衷。

不知道十年後我們會在哪裡，也不知道十年後的微博會變成什麼樣子。最近我也在學習研究元宇宙，特別是自己公司的產品，比如附圖是Horizon Workrooms，大家可以在3D環境中工作，回郵件、做電話會議等等，都可以。要想認識工作以外的朋友，還可以在其他的元宇宙社區中找到不同主題活動。

微博也好，元宇宙也好，最終能吸引我們都是因為影響力。一個人的言行可以影響很多人，是好是壞，每個人都有機會，也都有責任。當然，每個人的境界不盡相同，這也是為什麼微博上不必太多爭辯的原因。畢竟，林子大了，什麼樣的鳥都有。

對，我就是那個滬港小生，微博上的那個。

The 140th Anniversary of Lu Xun

The West has George Orwell. We have Lu Xun (魯迅), one of the greatest writers in Asia in the 20th century.

In early 1927, Lu was considered for the Nobel Prize in Literature, for the short story The True Story of Ah Q (阿Q正傳), despite a poor English translation and annotations that were nearly double the size of the text. However, Lu declined to be nominated due partly to the domestic political environment and Lu’s deep disappointment in the Chinese society at that time.

One of my favourite lines from Lu’s works is “Do not break out in silence, perish in silence” (不在沈默中爆發，就在沈默中滅亡). Late Communist leader of China Mao Zedong (毛澤東) — himself a big fan of Lu’s writings — once said had Lu survived until the 1950s, he would "either have gone silent or gone to prison.”

This year marks the 140th anniversary of Lu, born on September 25, 1881 in Shaoxing, Zhejiang province, the Qing Dynasty of China.