Riding with Street Racers.
Friday. Decided to turn the phone off, and stay at home. Been drinking too much in the last month and needed some time to just chill. By myself, it always happens that I feel like doing that on Friday night. Probably because I can’t face all the people, preferring to be out on the weekday when it’s quiet.
So I walked pass the garage and started talking to them, not really seen the guys since the TVB filming a few months ago. Friday, so they are all in a good mood. Washing their cars, smoking cigarettes, reading hundreds of ads of bits of cars to put together. I look at the pieces and I have no idea what it all means, and why it’s so fascinating, but I figure its just as if I go through the New Yorker listing of what’s on, new plays or dance shows I will never get a chance to see, or Q magazine single reviews, read each one, circle a few but in the end I don’t have any intention of buying and never bother downloading. It’s just being informed by what is out there, keeping the pulse, and a bit of longing involved, you only need one wheel to drive, two brake pads, but the choice is limitless, and piece together each bit in your imagination.
It’s the Candy and Fai’s birthday this month, so they are having a big party somewhere, really excited and I have been invited. It’s good. I am looking forward to seeing them outside of the silence of one or two sitting behind the desk, one on the blue chair, one washing the car, another just staring into space. I wonder sometimes what they are thinking, if they are thinking at all, I think I couldn’t just stand there staring into space like that, I do, but I do it at home, maybe in my bedroom, but that is because I have my own privacy and these kids who live with their parents do not have the luxury.
Wai has a new girlfriend everyone likes a lot more. Candy seems happier, and stopped trying to sell me stuff. Fai, just works, not much to say, swears less than usual. The kid.. the one with the scary car, he’s looks like a scholar, such a lotus shaped face, and the tall skinny body compared to the others whose tummy is Buddha round guys, and it’s hard to imagine him being a street racer or doing anything else bad. In a different space, he would be a TV star, a boy band member, but he’s too shy to ever contemplate such idiocy. I say something, and the word triggers him to sing a dirty song, which Wai joins in, something they made up, whether from their childhood or recently I don’t know. But they tell me that they wish to be a modern day poet, I don’t recognize the name, probably because he didn’t write the kind of poems I learnt about in school. It annoys me when I don’t catch the references, and they seem to have so much more than my other friends, it’s like their cultural language is as if it’s from a different place. I wonder where they get it from, TV? Movies? But probably not books or school as most of them finished, at 14 after form three, and I have never seen any of them pick up a newspaper.
Today is a nice day, I am a little disappointed I already grabbed some food to eat at the noodle place, otherwise I would have joined them on hot pot. It’s getting colder, cool at least and hotpot would be nice. Although it was good to stop by the “little cart” which lets you pick what kind of noodles to what to put in it, like fish balls, beef balls, sausages, vegs etc. etc.. The shop was quiet, had a funny chat with the people in the store, they know my Chinese isn’t so great, as sometimes I can’t find a word, so they are curious about me. I like them though, they don’t ask a litany of questions but just talk to me. Otherwise I just feel like I am in an interrogation room about where I am from, where my family is, who they are, when I left hong kong, when I came back, what do I think of it, etc. etc. etc. Then after a while I become insincere because I have gone through it so many times, and my life is so complicated, so it’s easier to just to make it all up.
And I think they are nice as a little 11 year old girl came down by herself, and they knew her name, and she seemed happy to see them, they helped her pick her food. She asked lots of questions like, “Why is that Table different?” “Why is that blue?” “Why don’t you do that, or sell that?” and each time they answer the questions patiently. I have got to ask them where they are from, because I don’t think they are Hong Kong people. I thought they were from China, but that doesn’t seem right, maybe Macau? I don’t know. They will tell me eventually. The softness of the shop changed when I woman in her late 30s come tumbling in, screaming about her day. She’s got this bleached white hair. she’s quite large, maybe taller than me, bigger built than me, which isn’t very common here and talked about how some people starting stealing her scrap metal, when she arrived to pick it up, and had to call her husband about it. The lady at the store who is a lot smaller, smiled, made her sit down, and told her she needed to eat. On my way out, as I took out my wallet, a hello kitty magnet fell out, I must have 30 of these, since every time I buy something in 7 11 for the last month they have given it to me, and I buy so much stuff over there, so I gave it to the little girl. She was very polite and sweet about it, so I might find all the ones I have left sitting all over the apartment and give it to the people at the store to give it out. Otherwise it just goes to the bin.
I used to give all the premiums to the kid in the other store that sells cigs, vegs, ice cream and all sorts of stuff, BB. But they are gone, closed last month, I was really sad, because I went there every day instead of the 711, and I liked to talk to Chu, she’s exactly my age, but has a 7 year old son. Her husband left her a few years ago, and stole all her savings, so she came home to start the store. I like ah B, sometimes I would sit down and play computer games with him. I have no idea what he is doing, except I just press whatever button he tells me to and then I act accordingly impressed.
Chu was thinking of moving to Australia, and I told her to think really carefully before she did that. Not being able to speak the language, having no family, bringing your kid over. Of course I am sure she would be there illegally. I don’t know if it’s a better life but I have that choice so how can I say? But I know no matter how difficult it is here, she will always be able to get around, she probably wouldn’t be doing something nasty, and she is close to her family and could go back to China and her village anytime. Over there who knows. But then I think, yes it would be a better life for B eventually. Then I think. No, that’s only if he ends up being a model minority kid because he is good, there are a hell of a lot of asian gangs in LA too, and those parents came for a better life to America. And all the angry disenfranchised, disenchanted kids who hate their parents, hate their culture and hate the country with no where to go. You wonder, maybe if their parents stayed where they were from, and used that money a different way, these kids might not be where they are now, coz they can’t speak English, they can’t leave the asian ghettos, and they do shit jobs just like they would do shit jobs in Asia. Then again, they will have cable, and a car, and their own room no matter. But she told me she’s going to stay in HK and try to get a job. I guess I can keep up with her life and Ah B’s coz her brother’s store is upstairs by the bus stop and I go in there sometimes. Maybe her mother will be there, and between the two of us never work out how much change she owes me. She can’t read, the cultural revolution ended her schooling, and I am just too stupid to calculate it all in my head. Sometimes I wonder how much money I owe her or she owes me in real life but I figure it all washes back.
But really I am very bummed that they are closing because I either go to 711 to by my cigarettes, which I don’t like as much or the other stores on the street. One is owned by a family, the husband is the nicest drunk around, but his friends are not. And every night they sit there watching TV in the concrete room, in that place with no so much products, that is not kept well, and get drunk on rice wine, without their shirts on, because its hot. When they are tipsy, it’s okay. But when they are drunk, I so want to avoid that place. They just leer and slur at me. It’s not harmful, but I just prefer not to. Otherwise is The hunchback grouchy old man who sits in his shop and I have to scream at him to get anything. It’s alright when I am in a happy mood, but if I am tired, I just want to buy something and not bother, I find going to those two stores just daunting in the effort involved, preferring to be around Chu, b and her mother. Easy transaction, no fuss, friendly face.
I asked why they were closing, but they didn’t really tell me, I wondered if they couldn’t make enough money, or the rent got too much, of if the people raised the rent, as it seems a lot of shops in my street are closing. Wai’s car wash closed last month, to be honest, I am so pathetic that I didn’t even notice that until he mentioned it to me, tonight. I have been in my own world completely, not really paying attention. When I asked him, he said, his partner Calvin pulled out, so he didn’t have the money to keep going. He looked so sad, so I asked him what he was going to do next, and he said he is looking for a job, and I asked him if he was going back to being a cook, and he said, no. he hasn’t done that for a long time. He’s going to be a driver. I nodded, and Candy said, “He’s so unlucky, every partner he has, has screwed him over otherwise he could have kept the business running.” I nodded, remembering about Mike, and the cops, the black mailing, and how to their credit they never told me any of it, I only knew it through Mike. I wonder how he is, I don’t want to find out as, the last time I talked to him, he was back dealing drugs, he kept asking me if I knew anyone interested, and I said “no” a million times. And hell, the truth was, I knew he was using his own stash, and that’s just asking for trouble. I don’t want to be around for that shit. It’s always ugly. I liked him and his wife a lot too. Really they were the only people of that lot I honestly were friends with, as we sat around and talked, I would go to their house and watch TV and listen to music.
And Candy said that was a year ago. I can’t believe it. I haven’t picked up my camera properly to follow their lives since a year ago. Doesn’t seem that long. But you know I honestly didn’t really want to forgive them for all the shit, and they didn’t want me around either. It was all falling apart. SARS really had an impact on our lives beyond how we felt about it. No business, no social life, everyone was depressed and pissed off. It just split over to everything, unknown, unseen. And it’s only now if I think about it, after this summer that the effects of that epidemic has worn off our lives.
She told me Gar Lok got married and his wife is expecting. I laughed. I don’t know why. Because it’s what he really wanted, even if he pretended to be such a hard man. A baby, a wife. And candy said she was surprised, I told her no, why? He was divorced, he never forgave his wife for aborting their baby, he gave up his house, business, and his evolution in Australia to come back because he couldn’t cope with the fact she wanted out. It doesn’t surprise me he found another woman and got married as quickly as he did. He needed an anchor, otherwise he was floating. She said, he’s just completely disappeared and sai sum yeung xing, (Steadied heart, educate character) and doesn’t race, doesn’t go up to China, never see him around, and being a good husband. I laughed again. I wonder if this woman could keep him away from all the girlfriends and for how long. I can’t see him giving that up, maybe for a while but he will back whoring with the girls he doesn’t think are whores, that he shares with a few other HK guys. I wish I knew him longer so I could understand all that better. But he was about as open as he could be really, although of course, he wouldn’t let me film any of that. “Let me talk about the Cars..” He did explained the mentality of racers to me best. The rest of his life, he just confessed to me because he didn’t have anyone to talk to about it. I am always the confidant, but I am always the biggest betrayer.
One day, if the project gets picked up and it all comes together, I am going to have to track him down, baby in hand and set it all up and force him to talk to me. He lit up the camera. I showed some footage to Vincient Chiu, and although he was utterly unimpressed with the premise or at least showed no enthusiasm for my project, he saw gar lok and said, “Who is that guy. I want him in my next film. He looks like a movie star.” He did. But he was so cracked. You know. I never thought about that, but all the racer boys are good looking. The best ones are all very handsome men. Maybe there is a kind of confidence that they have, that makes them be able to risk their lives. I am not sure. They are surely so much better looking then the guys at work, or the guys I know. Probably because they do a lot of manual labor, because unlike the majority of Hong Kong boys I know, they didn’t grow up sitting in front of the computer or television, they were out working. And I guess in some ways, Chinese people believe your face gives you your character. Or that there is some sort of expression they have the ability to give out, an edge, and interest because their mental state is so different. Whatever it is, they all have a strange stoic charm laced with an unpredictability.
Which is exactly why this whole experience if so mind bending and why I have such a hard time with them. Sometimes they are evil, or some of them are evil. I hate them, I hate what they do, who they are. Sometimes they are my friends. Sometimes they are spoilt, self centered pricks and sometimes they would out of the blue buy you a coke, coz you look thirsty, open doors, be good. At time they seem so out there, not afraid of anything, then they shift into being so conservative, praying to the gods, they don’t really believe in. Refusing to look at graves. So close to death yet fear the nether world the most. And when they are funny, you know how clever they can be, at others like a plank, no matter what you say, it makes no sense to them. There is no logic to these men. None, just emotion. Just floating with no anchor, but their girlfriends, who most of them cheat on, their family they don’t spend time with but work to support. Their cars which they love with a passion that most people never know.
Sometimes they want to talk to me, others they don’t care. I never know what will happen. Who will bother with me or who will not. But I am the same way. Sometimes I just want to walk pass them and pretend I don’t know, too busy. Come back to my own world, and at others, I want to stand, lean on a car, stand in silence. It’ s been two years now. On and off, On and off, I pick up and look into their lives, and but then I pick up and look at a lot of people’s lives all the time. Curious one moment, wanting my space the next. Artists, Street Racers, maybe we have more in common that people would ever imagine.
Yan Sham-Shackleton Online 