In recent years after the pandemic, the Hong Kong government is putting more effort in boosting tourism through the “Tell Good Stories of Hong Kong” initiative mentioned in the Policy Address. While it aims to emphasize and present the city’s hard power, such as economic development, the city’s advancements in technology and its status as a global metropolis, this focus often overlooks an equally important aspect: the unique Hong Kong culture.
As we wander through the streets of Mong Kok at night, how many tourists are drawn by the glowing neon lights? And how many of them step into traditional tea houses, eager to savor the authentic flavors of Hong Kong dim sum? These rich cultural heritages of Hong Kong are also a great contributor in shaping the city we see today and they certainly deserve recognition and promotion.
Recently, Hong Kong has faced significant fading culture. Each of these five elements tells a story and has its own struggle, reflecting how the nostalgic history of Hong Kong contributes to its unique local culture and what it means for the community today. Though they may not always be in the spotlight, they are still an indispensable fragment of Hong Kong history, and also, in the hearts of certain generations.Let’s delve into five unique Hong Kong cultures that define Hong Kong: Cantonese opera, street hawkers, pawnshops, minibus signs, and hand-carved Mahjong.
1. The Enchantment of Cantonese Opera
Walking into the Xiqu Centre, you are greeted by vibrant performances of Cantonese opera. The decor is filled with the atmosphere of traditional culture. However, there are very few young people inside. Have you been there before? Cantonese opera has deep roots in Hong Kong’s cultural landscape, dating back to the late 18th century. Performances emerged in 1786 under a banyan tree at the Tin Hau Temple in Yuen Long. By the 1920s, pioneers like Zhu Cibo helped transition the art form from classical Mandarin to colloquial Cantonese.. This shift brought the art form closer to Hong Kong citizens.
In recent years, the government has invested in promoting Cantonese opera. For example, the Xiqu Centre was built for HK$2.7 billion and opened in 2019. Even Cantonese opera with a rich history and support from the government, still faces an uncertain future. The low participation from the younger generation may lead to a decline in the cultural heritage of this art form.
The Generation Gap
“When I was very small, I watched Cantonese opera with my grandmother, but as I grew up, I never went to see any performances. As I’ve observed, none of my peers are interested in watching Cantonese opera,” said Catherine Kwok Ka Yau, a 25-year-old office worker. Other young people share the same view. A recent survey on youth interest in Cantonese opera, conducted with 61 respondents, revealed that only a few had attended live performances of Cantonese opera or watched them online or on TV. This shows that not many young people have access to Cantonese opera. “The audience ratio at the theater is about six to four. Most attendees of Cantonese opera are elderly, while younger people usually come to watch stage plays and musicals instead,” said Nicole Wong, a 29-year-old worker at the Xiqu Centre.
Why does this generational gap exist? “The school has promotional activities, including talks and movie screenings, and they send emails about it. However, my friend and I don’t want to go because we think the talks sound boring,” said Zoey Lau Pui Ying. Secondary schools in Hong Kong sometimes teach students about Cantonese opera during music class. Karen Lui added, “The school plays some videos about Cantonese opera, but I don’t find them very attractive, and I don’t understand what is being performed.” Does the youth have less interest in Cantonese opera? The situation of the young generation going to watch Cantonese Opera is low. However, the youth generation shows a willingness to watch Cantonese. The survey found that 63.9% of youth are willing to watch Cantonese opera if they have a chance. This suggests the youth’s lack of access and engagement with Cantonese Opera instead of the way they perform art.
“I find Cantonese opera quite interesting, it’s just that I don’t have many opportunities to actively learn about it. The government could promote more Cantonese opera performances so that young people can listen to and get to know it. Nowadays, many youth haven’t experienced it or truly understood it which is why their interest isn’t very strong,” Zoey Lau shared. Other youth also share similar views that with fewer opportunities to learning more about Cantonese opera affects she is not going to watch. “Honestly, I find it interesting. I used to watch it with my family when I was young and I still have some interest. However, as I grew up I became less proactive to learn more about it. And I haven’t felt the impact of the government’s promotions, so I haven’t gone to see Cantonese opera in person. Yes, I do have a certain level of interest. It’s just that I haven’t truly tried to watch it,” said Catherine Kwok.
Reimagining Cantonese Opera for Youth
To bridge this barrier, the government must rethink its approach to Cantonese Opera for Youth. In the survey, the majority of youth support innovative strategies like social media campaigns and interactive workshops to make Cantonese opera accessible. Apart from that, the presenting format of Cantonese Opera can also undergo some changes. The government can try to modernize the format of Cantonese Opera. Such as developing contemporary scripts related to current themes and collaborating with other art forms as the survey received majority support. The government can through this to draw the attention of the youth.
As Joey Lau On Lai, a 28-year-old office worker, concluded: “Traditional cultures have unique attractions, but people need knowledge to connect.” Whether Cantonese opera can survive depends on making it accessible and relevant to youth. Its beauty endures but only if the next generation is willing and has reasons to care.
2. The Timeless Evolution of Pawnshops
On a bustling street in San Po Kong, a shop with a shield standing in front of the main gate and the counter high up in front is almost forgotten by the pedestrians. Pawnshops, a traditional practice allowing residents to receive a loan by exchanging items of a certain value, are one of the unique Hong Kong traditions.
The Historical Development of Pawnshops
The history of Hong Kong pawnshops can be traced back to the 1800s. According to the Hong Kong and Kowloon Pawnbrokers’ Association Limited, there were already more than ten pawnshops in Hong Kong as early as the Daoguang period of the Qing Dynasty. The former site of Jeun Yun Aat in Yuen Long is no longer in business, but it is said to be the oldest pawnshop in Hong Kong with a history of more than 200 years.
Pawnshops in Hong Kong are symbolised by its unique shape of signs – an upside-down bat holding a coin because the bat symbolises fortune and the coin signifies benefits in terms of their Chinese pronunciation. The signs are mostly presented with a recognisable neon signs, usually red-bodied with a green border.
The Forgotten Culture of Locals
However, modern Hong Kong people seem to have forgotten about this old tradition. When asked about his thoughts on pawnshops, Mr. Chu Ngai, a 21 years old local, described pawnshops as “old-school” and “outdated”. “I can’t think of any reason to go to a pawnshop. Even if I urgently need money, I can just simply sell my old iPhone to some secondhand store. Aren’t they more trustworthy?” Said Mr. Chu.
Not only young generations, the older generations seem to have ignored the existence of these pawnshops as well. Ms Wong Sau Yong, a 64-year-old lady living in San Po Kong, said she was not aware of the two pawnshops on the street she would pass by every day. “You remind me of them. They were here for years already, but I never saw anyone walking in or out of the shop,” she said. However, she shared one of her experiences related to pawnshops. “When I was little, my father used a golden necklace to exchange for money at a pawnshop. We were very poor at that time and my grandmother was sick,” Ms Wong added.
However, due to the city’s rapid development, the society has become financially richer. Together with different forms of replacements, such as online selling platforms, pawnshops are no longer the first priority for people who have urgent financial difficulties. So, does the society still needs them?
An Attractive Hong Kong Culture to Foreigners
Although pawnshops are not an appealing option to Hong Kong locals, they actually catch attention from foreigners who are willing to learn more about Hong Kong.
Ms. Wang Pei Ru, a 40-year-old tourist from the mainland China, expressed her interest towards pawnshops after walking out from a pawnshop in Causeway Bay. “I have seen pawnshops in old Hong Kong movies and I always want to have a try. It is a very ‘Hong Kong’ experience,” Ms Wang said. Getting large amount of money is not their main purpose, Ms Wang and her friends said they have prepared a few old silver rings just to experience this unique Hong Kong culture.
However, it is still true that this kind of business becomes a “sunset industry” in todays society. As the times change, the economy is getting well-developed, and there are many short-term turnover channels in the market, leading to the gradual decline of the Pawnshop industry. Are there any other ways to preserve this unique Hong Kong culture? With high land rent in Hong Kong, most of them actually struggle to survive. Chun On Pawnshop in Wan Chai, with an 80 years history, has shut down last year in 2024. As it is proposed by the Antiquities Advisory Board to be a Grade III historic buildings in Hong Kong, people are still questioning how the government is going to preserve it. Is making it into a museum a feasible way of preservation?
“It would be a shame if there aren’t any pawnshops left in Hong Kong.” Ms. Wang added. “I know people are richer nowadays so there’s no need for them to visit pawnshops, but this unique culture symbolises Hong Kong and is non-replaceable.”
3. The Spirit of Itinerant Hawkers
Walking on the street, a fragrant taste of sweet potato and chestnuts surrounds you. Walk a few more steps, and you’ll see hawkers selling some cute small gadgets. Is this scene very familiar to you? Unfortunately, these kinds of itinerant hawkers are going to disappear. The history of Hong Kong hawker culture can be traced back about 100 years. Because of World War II, there was a significant influx of immigrants from the Mainland who came to Hong Kong to seek safety. This rapidly increased the population in Hong Kong. This created a heightened demand for daily necessities and gave rise to the vibrant street hawking culture.
The Decline of Itinerant Hawkers
According to the website of the Food and Environmental Hygiene Department, there are currently two types of hawker licenses: Fixed-Pitch Hawker Licences and Itinerant Hawker Licences. Since the early 1970s, the former Urban Council has stopped allowing new hawker license applications. As a result, there are very few itinerant hawkers on the streets today, leading to a significant decline in their numbers.
Voices of the People
“It is quite a pity to see the disappearance of itinerant hawkers. It feels very human to see them on the street,” said Hayley Wong In Ching, a 16-year-old shopping with her friend in Sha Tin. Voices from Hong Kong citizens indicate the significant value of itinerant hawkers. “I think hawker is an important part of Hong Kong culture. A long time ago, the market operated through itinerant hawkers when there were no shopping malls, I think this is a part of Hong Kong culture,” said Chan Wing-Saan, a 27-year-old waiting for her egg waffle.
The cultural symbol of itinerant hawkers relates to their background, which provides more opportunities for lower-class and disadvantaged groups in Hong Kong. “Stop accepting applications of Itinerant shortens the ways for lower-class families to make ends meet, and they lose one way to earn money,” said Jenny Chung Lai Yan La, a 42-year-old waiting for her friend at Sha Tin Station. A current hawker without a license also shared her opinion about being a hawker in Hong Kong. Ms. Cheung, a 67-year-old flower seller operating without a license outside Sha Tin Station, said, “I’ve been working as an unlicensed hawker for a year, but I can only sell for a couple of months each year because flowers are seasonal. It’s tough to make a living in Hong Kong. If the government could allow applying for the itinerant licenses again, even just to let us earn a modest income, at least we could use these small businesses to make ends meet.”
Preserving a Cultural Legacy
These hawkers are living relics of old Hong Kong, embodying its economic evolution and resilience. Jenny Chung added, “I think this culture is unique to Hong Kong. In the past, itinerant hawkers who were familiar with each other would exchange food and goods. This was a way of life,” Unlike the night markets recently promoted by the government, which cater to tourists and lack the same historical meaning. Itinerant hawkers tell a deeper story of survival and connection. They also witnessed the city’s economic evolution and changing living conditions over the decades.
The government’s attempt to use night markets to tell Hong Kong’s story overlooks another Hong Kong story from the itinerant hawkers’ culture. Night markets can create a new path of Hong Kong culture but cannot replicate the hawkers’ communal spirit. Itinerant hawkers are not just street sellers, they are also living storytellers. They share Hong Kong’s rich history. The unsupportive government is undermining this culture, even though citizens appreciate this culture. The beauty of a city lies not in its appearance but in its stories. Itinerant hawkers are Hong Kong’s storytellers, proof of its development and vibrant past. Without them, Hong Kong will become indistinguishable from any other city. One of the colorful parts of Hong Kong’s cultural background will fade. To preserve this heritage, the Hong Kong government must rethink its policies and base on citizens’ opinions to make the changes. A collective culture can create higher social cohesion.
4.The Art of Hand-Carved Mahjong
Mahjong, a four-player game originating in Southern China in the mid-1800s, is more than a pastime in Hong Kong—it’s a cultural treasure. From being a game played in family gatherings, to a mobile game for young people passing time, mahjong’s appeal spans generations. At its core is the art of hand-carved tiles, a craft that demands both skill and dedication. Uncle King, a master at Biu Kee Mahjong, is one of Hong Kong’s last artisans preserving this tradition.
A Legacy of Craftsmanship
Biu Kee Mahjong, a family-run business, traces its roots through three generations. “It started with my grandpa, passed to my dad, then to me,” Uncle King shared. With fewer than five masters of this craft remaining, he stands out as one of the seasoned experts.
The over-50-year-old store was forcibly closed after receiving a demolition order in 2022 (Left). Fortunately, it reopened at the original site in 2023 (Right).
Crafting hand-carved mahjong tiles requires years of practice and patience. Each tile is meticulously carved with intricate patterns, layered with vibrant colours. The result is stunning, featuring sharply defined engravings. A single set takes 10 to 12 months to complete, priced at HKD 6,500. “Some said my tiles are too expensive, but I won’t lower the price. Their rarity makes them priceless,” said Uncle King. Each tile is meticulously hand-painted with varnish, allowed to dry, and then polished with lacquer.
As an artisan, Uncle King persists in his commitment to quality. “I once declined an order for a rare Gold Crystal Mahjong set,” he shared, as the supplier couldn’t source high-quality materials. “To me, quality is paramount—if the materials aren’t good enough, I won’t accept the order,” Uncle King added. This dedication has cemented Biu Kee Mahjong’s reputation as a guardian of traditional artistry.
Cultural Preservation and Recognition
Acknowledging hand-carved mahjong as a cultural treasure, the Hong Kong government has vigorously supported its preservation. Uncle King has been invited to participate in plenty of cultural events, including “The HKIA Arts and Culture Festival 2024” – having his art pieces displayed at the Hong Kong airport; and “Fête Chinoise Gala Dinner” in Toronto – to share the sophisticated hand-carved techniques. This tradition has gained significant recognition, earning exposure not only locally but also internationally. These opportunities highlight the global appreciation for his work and the cultural significance of hand-carved mahjong.
With fewer than five masters remaining, the art of hand-carved mahjong is at risk of fading away. In a world dominated by mass production, the value of craftsmanship—reflecting the heart, effort, and dedication of artisans—stands as a testament to the enduring spirit of Hong Kong. This tradition is more than just a craft; it is a cultural legacy that urges us to cherish and protect the irreplaceable beauty of handmade artistry.
5.The Last Calligrapher of Hong Kong’s Minibus Signs
Strolling through the buzzing neighbourhoods in Hong Kong, one has probably spotted those red minibuses zipping past, adorned with numerous signs on their windows
Yet, these minibuses and the handcrafted signs—vital to Hong Kong’s transport culture—are slowly fading. The signs displaying routes and fares for the red minibuses were meticulously penned by calligraphers like Master Mak. His journey from a shoe store worker to a revered minibus sign calligrapher is a story of artistry, adaptation, and cultural preservation.
A Bygone Era of Minibus Signs
In the 1970s and 1980s, before the Mass Transit Railway (MTR) reshaped Hong Kong’s transport landscape, red minibuses were the commuters favourite. They stood out with flexible routes, guaranteed seats, and air-conditioning. With their multi-stop and long journey nature, red minibuses needed clear, eye-catching signs to inform passengers of their destinations and stops. These signs, written on plastic boards with red ink for destinations and blue for intermediate stops, were placed prominently in the front window or by the door. Master Mak’s calligraphy career began serendipitously. “I was writing store signs when minibus drivers near my shop asked if I could make signs for them, that’s how I started,” he recalled.
By 1995, this evolved into a full-time passion, with Mak’s handcrafted signs becoming a defining feature of Hong Kong’s streets. At the peak of demand, orders poured in faster than Mak could write. “There was no way to finish by hand,” he said. To keep up, he digitized his work by scanning samples, preserving the calligraphic charm while enabling mass production.
Mak proudly displayed a sign from over four decades ago, marvelling at its durability. “Look at it—still usable,” said Mak, showing off a discoloured yet functional board. This longevity, conversely, contributes to the signs’ decline, as drivers rarely need replacements.
The Decline of a Craft
The MTR’s rise since the 1980s reduced reliance on minibuses. Digital signage and the government’s push to convert red minibuses into standardized green ones further diminished demand for custom signs. As routes shortened and orders dwindled, Mak’s once-thriving business faded.
From Signs to Souvenirs
As demand for signs declined, a new opportunity emerged. Customers cherishing the signs’ cultural significance inspired Mak to transform them into merchandise –something smaller that can be easily carried around. He recalled a student once spending HK$100— a considerable sum at the time—on a sign as a collectible, and ended up getting scolded by their parents. The turning point came when companies later approached Mak to acquire design copyrights, proposing to produce items inscribed with local slang that celebrate Hong Kong’s minibus heritage.
“I’m selective about what to produce to preserve the concept,” Mak said, rejecting ideas like Chinese New Year couplets that stray from his vision. “I wanted to keep its originality,” Mak added.
The charm of Mak’s minibus signs has transcended Hong Kong, attracting the attention of international audiences. “One unexpected reward is having Japanese visitors and foreign media come to see us,” Mak shared proudly, gesturing toward the wall decorated with interview articles. These minibus signs, once purely functional, now serve as cultural ambassadors, preserving and sharing Hong Kong’s heritage abroad.
A Legacy Preserved
Hong Kong’s soul does not rely on a single story but is woven from many cultural narratives. These living archives of old Hong Kong’s spirit strive to keep these unique cultures an ongoing story, connecting the city’s past and present.
Cantonese opera thrives on stage but lacks young audiences, pawnshops have become dispensable; handwritten minibus signs have been replaced by other forms, mahjong carvers are disappearing and itinerant hawkers are diminishing due to restrictions. Can they survive in this vibrant city, overcoming the pull of progress and changing times?
If we can come up with different approaches to help these Hong Kong cultures survive in the modern city, together with finding their values, hopefully we can help the city to keep its heartbeat, enriching the local community, and also enhancing the city’s appeal to tourists seeking an authentic experience.