Hong Kong’s Nobody’s Children

This is one of those true, unembellished stories that happened to me and another mum friend, to entertain the folks who don’t live here and who Facebook me things like “So, I’m very curious, do people over there really walk that fast?” (answer is Yes), and “What do they do about the kids with them then?” (answer is They Put Wheels On Them And Sometimes Even Helmets :D)…

When Rockstar was still a toddler, I made a generalization to a bunch of local colleagues about how well behaved local school kids were. Their response was along the lines of Uh…. Wait Til You Meet The Badly Behaved Ones. “They’re the ones being raised by helpers while parents work long and hard, and then on weekends and family outings they misbehave so badly their tired parents either leave it or leave them at home yes, with the helper, rather than take them out and suffer more bad behavior. Oh, and don’t think these kids don’t know how to study...” Well, we met some variations, recently…

On another playdate in the same area…

So one day I’m minding The Rockstars and Friend while Friend’s Mum has stepped away briefly, and I see a bunch of local kids from an outdoor birthday party nearby running about flinging handfuls of rocks into the water feature. What I really mean by “flinging” is 5 at a time and with all their might accompanied by “Unghhh!” sounds.

By some stroke of luck the first handfuls flying all around my charges don’t actually hit anyone. But they’ve missed Rockstar and Friend’s upper bodies by less than 12 inches. My “Hey, don’t throw rocks like that” is met with an initial stalking off – only to have the boys return and one of them fling another handful several minutes later. I go up to Spirited Flinger Of Rocks, and ask loudly “WHERE’S YOUR MUM?”

“There.” The boy points vaguely at a circle of about half a dozen local mums deep in conversation. I try to catch someone’s eye and turn to find he’s already walking away. “WHICH ONE IS YOUR MUM, I WANT TO TALK TO HER.”

I get a few looks, mostly not unkind, and a mum steers her own daughter well clear. Circle Of Mums however remains impenetrable. A dad balancing a toddler on one arm hurries up, casts me a mildly stricken look, grabs his son’s arm and starts lecturing him about not throwing rocks.

“Uh… He…. “

“I KNOW I KNOW I KNOW I KNOW” <turns back to son in Cantonese>

“Actually, he wasn’t one of those flinging the rocks, he was only – “

“NO NO NO NO CANNOT CANNOT CANNOT CANNOT”

A third handful flung by the real culprit who has now returned finally scores Rockstar’s hand. “Mum. He got me this time.”

“WHERE’S YOUR MUM?? I want to tell her what you’re doing!“

“NNNNNO!!!!!” He’s about Rockstar’s size, which makes me place his age at probably a bit younger than Rockstar is. Maybe just 5.

I consider grabbing his arm and bellowing directly at the Circle Of Mums WHOSE CHILD IS THIS (What? I have a past in a dealing room with extremely foul-mouthed English traders who have thrown a keyboard. Just that I generally have a freakishly long fuse because of an inherent fear of being mistaken and hammering the wrong person) – except then it occurs to me his mum might not be one of them, especially since Dad Out of Nowhere who was wayy further away still heard me and hurried over to collect his own son. Is Crazy Little Rock Flinger accompanied by some errant helper with cellphone?  Anyway my biggest reason for not going after him is he might bite, kick or scratch if I touch him. Plus, I’ve still got the 3 kids to keep an eye on in a relatively crowded playground.

When my friend returns shortly after, we move a little further off. I watch this boy from our new play area – not once in the entire time we’re around do I see any other adult, be it helper or parent, speak to him.

Now we’re approached by two girls who look to be about 8 or 9. Rockstar and Friend have this game they often play when they’re here – they pick rocks from the water and arrange them about, fitting them onto the square stepping stones. Kind of like their own jigsaw puzzle (after which Rockstar will have me take a picture and he’ll compare the different combinations when playing with my cellphone later – a story for another time because there are enough weird children in this post :D)

(Yes I know these are pictures of rocks. Yes they take them seriously.)

The two new girls keep breaking up the arrangement of rocks our kids are trying to build, and finally my friend tries to say something. There are so many rocks to play with, why do they have to keep plucking the ones our kids are arranging? The girls smile at us……… Then ask our kids again, and again, and again with sweet smiles – Can I Take This One? And This One? And This One And This One And This One And This One And This One? WHY Aren’t They Letting Us Play With Them?? We’re Asking Nicely!!!

I’m speechless, I really don’t how to react. You open your mouth, and they behave like you are a monster of a grownup bullying little kids. You don’t and they’re seriously bugging your kids. Rockstar walks quietly away. When I join him, he looks up in my face and says seriously “I really don’t want to play there anymore. I really, really don’t want to play with rocks now.” 

These two girls are completely alone, and somehow they’ve still managed to intimidate our kids – and we’re standing right there. Then “DON’T touch my rocks. You can’t have any,” one girl snaps at Rockstar’s Friend (Rockstar having long since given up) when she thinks us mums are busy talking. The moment I look up, they are all politeness again.

What are you supposed to do when this happens? The girls won’t go away. They stay there, seemingly polite, intimidate the hell out of our kids… In fact we want to leave now.

I think I overhear whispered Putonghua between them, and we ask them what school they attend. When my friend speaks to them in Putonghua however, they respond haughtily, “We speak English.” O-kayy, where do you guys go to school? Silence. What-is-the-name-of-your-school? Blank Stares. I repeat the question in my best Cantonese, and they respond with a Cantonese name neither of us have heard of. Anyway where Rock Flinger did not succeed, Polite Intimidators have won this round. And no, I never see any other grownup interact with these girls either.

The moment we make to leave, the girls pounce at our kids’ little rock arrangement. My response is reflex, “You can’t even play nicely with our kids, you think I’m going to let you mess with that while we’re still here??” The girls are completely not cowed – they smile back sweetly and politely at me, looking at me in the eye throughout. One comes straight up to me and says, “I’d better move my scooter away from you.”

That’s when I realize the locals there who are watching their own kids….. are completely silent. They keep their own kids close, but they don’t get involved. No one claims the naughty kids. No one appears to even look at them. I’d guess their parents are pulling overtime somewhere, unaware they have nobody’s children. All 3 kids in the story were dressed nicely – one girl in fact had an elaborate updo and oversized shades, and Crazy Little Rock Flinger was dressed in soccer togs that looked pretty new.

ps: Title inspired by Nobody’s Child, the song about a boy no one adopts in an orphanage because he’s blind. I liked the irony that Hong Kong’s Nobody’s Children are often materially privileged, and probably pull fairly good grades – the bunch we meet are certainly not dumb – but they become Nobody’s Children because of the very material things their parents are striving to give them, intended in the first place to set them apart from the blind orphan boy. Hong Kong’s Nobody’s Children.

pps: I’m not even sure that was her scooter.

But anyway this is Rockstar’s ball. Oh yeah baby sister came with.