Diary - 14 July 2007

Hong Kong

It is very good to be back. So good that I can ignore the horror of the summer weather. The humidity suffocates and is only relieved by sudden and violent downpours. But these are minor irritations in a city that is back to its best. The economy booms and the shops and restaurants are full. I watched a pro-democracy march and was reminded of the glorious fractiousness of the Hong Kongers. No power on earth should pick an argument with them. It is a passionate nature which can occasionally find expression in unfortunate ways. Take the case of Mr Kwok who finds himself very nearly eyeless in Kowloon. Six years ago Kwok was set upon by his girlfriend Ms Po who in the midst of a romantic tiff tried to gouge out his left eye with her finger. As a result he lost the sight of the eye. Now Po has struck once more after accusing Kwok of having an affair. On this occasion she used a chopstick to again attack the left eye. But horrified by the blood pouring from her boyfriend’s eye socket Po fetched a towel and comforted the stricken Kwok. Sadly, by morning she was furious again and this time stabbed his right and remaining good eye. This was enough for the hapless Kwok who finally went to the police. This unhappy event has produced any number of insensitive jokes, e.g. he should have seen it coming, or he should have kept an eye out for her.

When in Hong Kong I always visit the old colonial cemetery near Happy Valley race course. I am writing a book on the epic siege of Kohima in 1944 when a small band of British and Indian troops held at bay a Japanese army attempting to invade India. Listening to the extraordinary stories of veterans has made me very susceptible to the poetry of loss that pervades such places. There are civilian and military graves spanning nearly 150 years, among them that of Driver Joseph Hughes from the Gorbals in Glasgow. Hughes was 19 years old when he was killed driving a lorry full of ammunition and explosives into a barracks in Hong Kong. After noticing that the load was on fire Hughes did the opposite of what you might expect. He didn’t run for safety but instead shouted warnings to his comrades and tried to stop the fire. Joe Hughes was killed but saved many lives with his action. Do stop by if you are ever in Hong Kong.

To the rainforest of Sarawak to film with the Penan tribe who remind me of a line of Columbus describing the first Indians he encountered. ‘Their manners are decorous and praiseworthy.’ The Penan are indeed a gentle and welcoming people, the only tribe here never to have indulged in head-hunting. They disdain physical violence between humans. The same cannot be said of animals. They are skilled hunters and use blowpipes to send poisoned darts high into the forest canopy in search of squirrels, monkeys and even python. Regarding the last of these I am given a useful piece of advice. If answering a more prolonged call of nature in the jungle, one should try to look upwards into the trees. That way there is less chance of being surprised in mid-evacuation by a hungry snake. However, should the python succeed in its ambitions and wrap its body around you, the Penan recommend slapping it around the mouth, an indignity no python can abide. I am assured you will be instantly released.

This recalls another piece of advice given me recently by the Inuit in the frozen wastes of the Arctic. On no account should one do one’s business near the huskies. The beasts will eat anything. A laughing Inuit guide told me how he’d seen a Japanese tourist being chased by a hungry husky which had escaped its traces. The poor man was desperately trying to pull up his trousers as the animal snapped at his exposed behind. Thankfully for our party it was we who ended up eating the animals. As the night sounds of the forest echoed through the canopy we feasted on python, wild boar and sweet pineapples. The boar was smoked and surprisingly tender while the python tasted vaguely of chicken and some primeval flavour of the forest, alien and unsettling to the palate of this suburbanite.

I had hoped to tell you at this point about attending a final-year concert at Our Lady Queen of Peace nursery where my daughter has been a happy student for the past two years. But as I was about to board for London an apologetic lady from Virgin announced that our flight was cancelled. The captain had been laid low with food poisoning. I missed the concert but I will miss dear Sister Angelina even more. This wonderful Italian lady and her fellow nuns have guided my adopted daughter with patience and love. They gathered her to their hearts. Holly Mei was born in China but Sister Angelina believes she may yet become Prime Minister of Britain. I am naturally more than ready to believe this. Whenever I visit Our Lady Queen of Peace nursery I am reminded of the words of St Teresa of Avila: ‘It is important here not to think much but to love much.’

Fergal Keane was in Sarawak for the BBC’s Ten O’Clock News.