It has long ceased to surprise many that poverty and pressure shortens life expectancy, and this strengthens people tolerance, if not frozens their sympathy into indifference to a matter of life and death as such. A tightening budget usually accompanies a loosening belt. Obesity is prevalent to the bottom of the society. A light purse comes long working hours and invites little sleep. All these symptoms as well as side-effect of poverty, ignored by the government and general public, are palpably riddled in many aspects of our daily life. Given the fact that my mom still works as a waitress in a Shanghai restaurant around the clock to for little more than the minimum wage, plus a two month holiday living at my tiny ripped room yearly, I am still, fortunately and regularly alarmed by how 60% of the Hong Kongers actually live. Not that I am rich now, but I am only free of the cage only at the tremendous expense of my mom and dad. And this is a good reminder and contrast to living in a bubble and mingling with blue-blood who takes elitist education and many other luxury for granted.
Even one has a shelter (like a public estate in which I has been living since birth) in Hong Kong, which is an enviable luxury now, it is not that promising when it comes to health . It is quite complacently true that I have never encounter any rats yet and the frequency of cockcockes self-inviting themselves into my kitchen is still way less than Indian slums. To a flat that is directly opposite to two tall garbage bins, hygiene was maintained by daily meticulous clean-up (Thanks, dad and mom.) and so it has not been that bad. But what more invidious is the invisible second-handed smoke that wafts from my close neighbour and fill my lung. There is very little I can do.
