I chanced upon Via Ports during an afternoon in the library, struggling through another day of battle with my thesis. It was originally published in 1965, reprinted in 2012 by the Hong Kong University Press under their 'Echoes' series.
The book is written as a chronological narrative, following the experiences and observations of Alexander Grantham, Governor in Hong Kong from 1947-1958. These were vital years; a time where the city was trying to rebuild and cope with the consequences of war and occupation, deal with massive population growth and the subsequent pressures this has had on local infrastructure and resources, (re)establish some degree of socio-political order in the region, and transform the city into one that meets the requirements of a rapidly changing world. The Hong Kong we see today still contains echoes from this time period...
It starts with the author's arrival to Hong Kong in 1922, with the following chapters detailing his subsequent departure to Bermuda, Jamaica, Nigeria, and the Fiji region, before returning to Hong Kong after WWII. This book could arguably be described as a travel journal; the author describes the people he meets (mostly others under the British colonial service), the activities and events that took place at various localities, and even the 'beauty spots' he visited. Yet the writing goes beyond the stylistic confines of the 'travel writing' genre, and it never feels as though one is reading a purely descriptive account. It helps that the author truly has had first-hand experiences (and an interest) with what he was writing about, and rather than discuss these topics from a narrative distance, he incorporates them into his recollections of everyday life. His descriptions are so vivid and so colourful (in describing Sir Alexander, then known as Bustamane, Grantham recalls the "aquiline features and thick greying hair brushed back...he could harangue and sway a crowd like no one else..." p.34) that you can envision what he was referring to in your mind.
I particularly enjoyed the human element embedded within the text. Oftentimes, in our attempts to compose a piece of reflexive writing, we find ourselves uncomfortable with putting our own thoughts on paper to be publicly scrutinized, and default to reciting clinical facts (e.g. "I was born during...I went to school at...I did this during...etc.) Here the author does examine the socio-political developments of the places he has been to (e.g. structures of government, local communities and politics, schooling and university systems, corruption), but he also injects milestones from his personal life. One example of this can be found in the first chapter, where the author talks about how his marriage came from his Mandarin lessons during his time in Peking (Beijing): "I made good progress but as time went on my enthusiasm for mandarin gave place to enthusiasm to Maurine Samson..." (p.12). In other instances, he recalls humourous anecdotes with his dogs in Bermuda (p.27), Christmas in Nigeria in 1942 spent engaging in recreational activities with his wife and friends (p.59), and a nostalgic and 'sentimental' return to Peking after the death of his stepfather and the departure of his mother to England (p.134).
But what was even more surprising was how easy it is to understand the author's thought processes and motivations, even if he was from a different era surrounded by a different world. The author admits that his junior standing in the Secretariat (his title at the time? Extra Assistant Colonial Secretary) during the 1920s rendered him disinterested in wider politics, such that the anti-colonial Seamen's Strike of 1925 warranted only a brief mention in the book; his primary concern was about how the strike could postpone his marriage. His migrations to other localities were driven by his calculations for promotional opportunities. This is not a cynical representation of the persistence of self-interest through time; rather, we can find comfort in knowing that what was of concern and important to him is also what is of concern and important to many of us today.The Governor may be at the apex of the colonial power hierarchy, but he is also human driven by individualistic wants. He enjoys train rides, swimming, walking in the hills, and seeing beautiful sights; he sympathizes with his wife when they have to leave their house and garden behind in Jamaica for Nigeria. There is a subtle emotive quality that many contemporary memoirs lack.
There were parts of the book that resonates with the sentiments of the current generation of youth in the city; especially with his description of Hong Kong as his 'first love', and with how the book ends with his sailing out of Hong Kong asking the question "[w]ere we going home or were we leaving home?"
Missing from the book are in-depth examinations about the poverty that was experienced by much of the population in Hong Kong; such as life in the emerging and increasingly crowded squatter settlements, the difficulties in trying to eke a living in an economy that has yet to take-off, and the lack of political inclusion stemming from linguistic boundaries.The author did have encounters with ethnic Chinese during his time in the city, but these were the 'Westernised elites' (a term I am borrowing from another document) and those who served the colonial circles; the head of domestic staff Ah Yau; the diplomatic representative of the communist Chinese government Special Commissioner T.W. Kwok, educated in Harvard and Cambridge; former Magistracy interpreter Chan Kok Wing who later contributed towards anti-corruption efforts; and one of the kaifong (neighbourhood association) leaders called Parkin Wong, educated at Columbia University. Although this sole exposure to the upper strata of Hong Kong society can be uncomfortable for readers, and be indicative of the distance between the colonists with the majority of the population, but perhaps this is an accurate reflection on the reality of life as a Governor.
Colonialism is a word that has birthed and permeated into a broad array of academic disciplines, not to mention generated a large body of research. In everyday conversations, colonialism is a word that carries negative connotations, used in criticisms towards power-imbalances and the subordination of certain socio-political groups. But trying to apply moral judgments of right and wrong seems irrelevant in this context; this book does not attempt to present itself as a comprehensive historical textbook. It does not criticize nor celebrate colonialism, it treats colonialism as the given state-of-being, because it was such during his time. Ultimately, it is best to see this book as being about a man (albeit a very privileged man) recounting and sharing his unique life experiences, in a lighthearted and eloquent manner, with an emotive touch.
(205 pages. I borrowed this book from the library, so have no clue how much it will cost. But it should be available on Amazon and the bookshop at the University of Hong Kong.)
