Love-hate relationships: Hong Kong.

Love-hate relationships. I am certain most of you are familiar with this term, perhaps a little more than desired. It goes something like this: you want to give that cute, spoilt prince/princess tender loving care when he/she puts up a smile, but break the bugger’s wrist when he/she throws a tantrum. Over the next couple days I am going to talk about two entities that fall into this category for me: Hong Kong, and change.

Hong Kong
Hong Kong for me is like a mother’s womb. It provides comfort, familiarity and warmth. When I return home, I have the family’s undivided attention and that same pillow I have sucked on for twenty years. I pig in an infinite selection of quality restaurants, cheap and expensive, and indulge in world-class services and transit options that make New York’s seem Jurassic-aged. Problem is, the city is too much like the said womb—at least in terms of climate. The temperature hovers consistently around 35 degrees Celsius, and humidity at 80 plus percent during the summer. Just ask Zenas what that means.

Hong Kong is also like that full-of-potential-but-constantly-underachieving brat you struggle to raise. You smack him once, you smack him twice but instead of learning, he turns around and gives a full moony that makes veins burst out of your forehead. Since I am immersed in the field of planning, I evaluate cities in terms of access, connectivity, cultural offerings, equity, quality of public spaces, walkability and all those other truths that urban planners typically spill. Hong Kong’s prospects don’t look too bright: Access yes. Cultural offerings, limited and diminishing. Equity, you kidding me? Public spaces, no no no no no. Walkbility, yes but deteriorating. I rage and rant to whichever poor slobs that cross my way, but it gets a worse each time I return; it has progressed from a moony to a moony and a finger.

Transportation planner Owen Thatcher pretty aptly describes Hong Kong as an “over commercialized” city populated with “podium development”. “Podium development”, exemplified by Elements in West Kowloon, has become the most common form of development in recent years. Characterized by residential high rises on vast platforms consisting of parking spaces and retail malls (http://www.globalphotos.org/hongkong/20070418/IMG_1816.jpg), these monstrous structures are constructed without regards to their surrounding communities and streets. As one podium development becomes connected to another by privately constructed, insulated hanging bridges (http://www.flickr.com/photos/hkdigit/1505597917/), Hong Kong’s roadways have become increasingly auto-oriented and less pedestrian friendly. Gone are the old days of public parks, flea markets, moms and pops stores and street chatters. Indoor shopping malls have become the only spaces for social interaction, and street levels have become filled with dead spaces; the city’s urban fabric is gradually torn apart by disconnect, single uses and siloed developments. Meanwhile, affordable housing is of zero concern to private sector developers as high-land value policies—grounded on speculation—remain in place. As all other comparable cities move ahead, Hong Kong regresses. I fear my hometown may forever fall behind.

A loving child/parent does not give up on his/her mess of a child/parent. My relationship to Hong Kong is the same. I continue to cajole and cuss it with the hope that it will change for the better. There is still hope. The city has a democratic platform that allows opposing voices to be heard; they just need to be better directed, stronger and more unified – this is where progressive developers, educators, legal experts, planners and policy makers can help. I can stand the womb-like conditions, I just don’t want to see no more exposed backsides.

Elements under attack.

Planning (or lack thereof) in Latin America

I have always participated in projects abroad with an intent to apply, at least theoretically, specific planning concepts that enhance the livability of urban areas. More often than not, I resort to feeling that overthrowing governments is the only means to create genuinely positive change (channeling the inner Che Guevarra); poor governance, it seems, is often the true culprit behind less-than-ideal planning practices.

Most recently, I was in Costa Rica with my classmates with the aim to evaluate the country’s state of sustainable tourism. We surveyed sites, met with federal and local officials, and interviewed residents: Costa Rica is a beautiful country with some innovative programs carried out by private-sector entrepreneurs and independent communities, yet contrary to the central governments’ broadly publicized messages, support for these efforts is far and few between. Much to our horror, few municipalities possessed general plans, and illegal development were peppered in tourist honey pots as official palms become greased.

Picture Quepos, a small quaint town next to the magnificent Manuel Antonio Nature Reserve. Upon meeting its alcalde (the mayor), he emphatically stated that he stands for a green and sustainable Quepos. Yet when asked about two illegal, multi-storied development that encroached the boundaries of Manuel Antonio, the alcalde’s response was “oh no no no. Those were built under the previous mayor’s watch. I don’t know anything about that, I am washing my hands off them.” Somehow, somewhere, his accountability and will to fight for Quepos’ sustainability was flushed down the toilet.

Later, we find out that mayors in Costa Rica receive only an equivalent of US$900 in salary per month, giving them little incentive to do their jobs well, and the motivation to accept bribes. Meanwhile, the central government has no performance-based evaluation mechanism to ensure the accountability of local officials. As it turns out, Costa Rica’s ministry of tourism does little more than marketing, and has few to no cross-agency collaborations with the ministry of planning. Travesty.

How can a tipping-point for positive change be created under these conditions? Suggestions are welcomed.

Sunset at the beach; Quepos, Costa Rica.