Members Area Logout

Coronavirus: Privilege and pressure reporting a crisis with no end in sight

From taking care of their own health to making sure they get their facts straight in the middle of chaos, reporters on the frontline of the coronavirus story in Hong Kong see no let-up in their workload. Elizabeth Cheung reports.

A passenger is surrounded by the media while showing off her quarantine tracking wrist band at Hong Kong’s international airport A passenger is surrounded by the media while showing off her quarantine tracking wrist band at Hong Kong’s international airport

Covering the coronavirus crisis in Hong Kong over the past two months has been daunting.

Without warning, there could be sudden information about possible new infections, or a major policy shift in response to another rapid development in the epidemic, that we need to share with our readers as quickly, comprehensively and presentably as possible.

Never in my 6½ years in journalism have the demands been as intense.

I often start my day chasing up sources to confirm new cases of COVID-19. While waiting for replies, I browse through stories from major local newspapers to compare our coverage and check if anything has been missed.

If my contacts reveal updates then, no matter where I am, I need to file a few paragraphs so we can break the developments online. That means thumbing away on my 4.7-inch smartphone, whether I am on a bumpy bus ride to work or a crowded MTR platform.

Then I will catch up with the editors on the coronavirus stories to pursue and the angles to take over the rest of the day, based on the latest developments. That can be a new study from Hong Kong scientists shedding more light on the virus, or loopholes circulating on social media for the quarantine measures introduced by the government.

Apart from working on our own follow-ups, I also constantly monitor online the unfolding developments across the city.

Attending or watching the Department of Health’s daily 4.30pm press briefing has also become part of my routine.

But the moment tending to trigger the biggest adrenaline rush of the day is when the health department confirms how many people have been infected, which usually drops between 10.30pm and midnight and often when the print edition of the newspaper is on the verge of going to press.

That brings a frenzy of last-minute updates with changes shouted across the newsroom and journalists dashing between desks. By the time I finish for the night, it may have been 12 hours or longer since my first task of the day.

On December 31, when the Hong Kong government first met the media about a cluster of viral pneumonia cases in Wuhan in China, never did I imagine it would evolve into a global pandemic, with such a far-reaching impact and extending over such a long period of time, with still no end in sight.

The battle against the virus has been uncharted territory for everyone. Doctors and nurses have risked all on the front line caring for patients, while scientists race against time to develop vaccines and identify effective medication.

HK’s Chief Executive Carrie Lam takes part in one of her daily press conferences
HK’s Chief Executive Carrie Lam takes part in one of her daily press conferences

Journalists are also working around the clock, chasing information in a competitive environment to keep their readers informed.

The speed with which the crisis is developing means journalists are heavily reliant on their sources to stay ahead and update the public before official announcements, which usually come hours after key information starts circulating.

A network of other local reporters also provides a valuable channel for cross-checking information from sources or revealed at a press conference.

Drawing on a wide range of voices from Hong Kong experts to comment on COVID-19 has proven difficult. Unlike in other parts of the world where reporters have a wealth of experts on hand, in Hong Kong there are only a few to consult.

The experts we speak to are some of the best in the world, but from a journalistic point of view there is a limited pool and having more diversity would offer our readers a wider perspective.

Reporting on an epidemic presents health issues for individual reporters. My colleagues and I are taking extra precautions. Similar to most Hongkongers, we wear masks whenever we head out on assignments. In high-risk areas, such as quarantine centres, reporters are also asked to wear goggles.

Elizabeth Cheung Elizabeth Cheung

In line with calls from medical experts to adhere to social distancing, our newsroom implemented work-from-home arrangements for four weeks from late January, and again after a freelancer working in the office was confirmed as infected in mid-March.

For frontline reporters like me, we still went out covering assignments, but the lack of an office base to return to presents its own challenges. Equipment is key to avoid running out of battery on laptops and mobile phones when out in the field.

Story planning with editors can be maintained through phone and video calls, instant messaging and emails, but when last-minute changes to copy are needed, you get to appreciate the value of face-to-face interaction.

As the relentless spread of the virus led to unprecedented interventions such as border closures, city lockdowns and travel restrictions, as well as social reactions such as panic buying, it was soon apparent reporting this crisis was no longer limited to the health beat.

In our newsroom, we have an education reporter following up the closures of schools and delays to exams; economy reporters looking into how the tourism and business sectors are affected; and political reporters sniffing out what senior officials will do next.

Without teamwork, it would be impossible to properly cover such a complex and multifaceted story.

After the intensity of the anti-government protests in Hong Kong that dominated the latter half of 2019, the emergence of the coronavirus outbreak, which seemed to follow on seamlessly, has proved a real test.

But it is also a privilege to help tell this story at this very moment in Hong Kong’s history, bearing witness to a most extraordinary time.

 

Coronavirus: First the streets were packed and now they are empty

The Correspondent asked freelance photographer and FCC member May James to look at how coronavirus is changing Hong Kong. After months working on the front line of the city’s protests, she found a very different picture

‘This small, lively city is packed with 6,700 people per square kilometre – that’s an average of 160 square feet, or roughly a New York City parking space, per person. Which means social distancing is not an easy task. During last year’s protests I was safe to be with my loved ones after a good shower, and cuddling my kids was my soul food to combat the tension. Now, with this epidemic, I can’t take any chances of my asthmatic child getting infected. So I’ve sent them away. It’s the only safe way I can continue to work.’  – May James

 

August 18, 2019: The ‘Two Million’ march, Victoria Park, Causeway Bay .
August 18, 2019: The ‘Two Million’ march, Victoria Park, Causeway Bay. Photo: © May James | May James Photography
March 26, 2020: A few lone walkers March 26, 2020: A few lone walkers. Photo: © May James | May James Photography
December 1, 2019: March from Clock Tower, Tsim Sha Tsui to Hung Hom December 1, 2019: March from Clock Tower, Tsim Sha Tsui to Hung Hom
March 26, 2020: Museums and galleries are shut and few venture out March 26, 2020: Museums and galleries are shut and few venture out
September 13, 2019: Autumn Festival climb and protest, Lion Rock September 13, 2019: Autumn Festival climb and protest, Lion Rock
March 22, 2020: Hikers keep their distance March 22, 2020: Hikers keep their distance
July 20, 2019: Pro-government demonstration at LegCo July 20, 2019: Pro-government demonstration at LegCo
March 28, 2020: Saturday afternoon and no one to be seen March 28, 2020: Saturday afternoon and no one to be seen
December 1, 2019: Tsim Sha Tsui rally passes a Hong Kong icon December 1, 2019: Tsim Sha Tsui rally passes a Hong Kong icon
March 26, 2020: Quiet afternoon along Salisbury Road March 26, 2020: Quiet afternoon along Salisbury Road
July 27, 2019: An estimated 288,000 people march through Yuen Long July 27, 2019: An estimated 288,000 people march through Yuen Long
March 27, 2020: Quiet, but not empty, street scene March 27, 2020: Quiet, but not empty, street scene

‘Coronavirus saved my life’

May James had an extraordinary encounter with ‘Ms. C’ while researching this project.

Photo: May James

Ms. C had suffered with depression since November last year. From being a happy, chatty lady who loved to cook and eat, she lost her focus and found food repellent. She thought the only way out would be to jump off her building. Then, as the coronavirus crisis grew, the government announced schools must shut and civil servants work from home. Ms. C’s two children and her husband all had to stay home and offered her “limitless encouragement and support”. She was reconnecting with her family and friends when the shortage of protective masks hit Hong Kong. So Ms. C. started making them by hand. “It took me two hours on each one from start to finish, but I felt I was saving someone’s life,” she says. “My life is now filled with love and purpose.”

Coronavirus: Life in Hubei during lockdown

A virus that began in China is now sweeping the world. Streets are emptied as countries go into lockdown and travel is grinding to a halt. The death toll from coronavirus, or COVID-19, has passed 53,000 and the number of cases had just gone over a million at the time of going to press. The Correspondent looks at a pandemic that is changing life everywhere.

‘Birds were taking over the streets, and I wondered what they would think of this sudden retreat of bothersome humans’

Like millions of Chinese, Robert Hu and his parents travelled to see their elderly relatives in Hubei province for Chinese New Year. Suddenly he was in lockdown for more than two months. They made it home to Shenzhen just as we were going to press. Robert is now considering journalism graduate school options

This was supposed to be another routine family reunion during Chinese New Year in Yichang, Hubei, my hometown famous for its rivers, mountains and fried carrot dumplings. I had travelled there with my parents from Shenzhen, where we now live. Everything should have followed the same script as for generations before me. Instead, the Year of the Rat started with anything but a normal routine, for almost everyone that I know.

I’m not totally unfamiliar with the notion of fear and uncertainty. From social unrests in Hong Kong, to the deadly conflicts in Jerusalem – where I was on a study abroad programme on conflict resolution – I have several times voluntarily got myself into the midst of tumultuous moments to observe and document.

But nothing could fully prepare me for what happened right here in my birthplace, even though I had been following the news of a possible outbreak since the end of December. From January 20, when a civilian expert finally admitted that what is now known as COVID-19 is indeed infectious among humans, the situation went into freefall in front of our eyes.

All shops ran out of masks on January 22. I saw a man lose his composure, yelling on the phone about the seriousness of the situation according to “directives from the central government” on a near-empty street, and by January 25 everything stopped in Yichang, including any chance of making my way back to Shenzhen.

Compared with this outbreak, the peak of an epidemic called fear came much earlier. On the eve of January 25, the far from merry first day of New Year and the night before my scheduled flight, I felt a sudden chill. The timing was uncanny. At the time we were not informed of the planned cancellation of all flights out of Yichang. Although we had by then realised there was a strong possibility of that eventuality, we still maintained hope that we would be able to get out.

My parents and I were staying in our Yichang apartment as usual when we visited our elderly relatives, and the possibility of me infecting them plus the uncertainty of this virus filled me with dread. There was even a moment when the terrible thought that I wouldn’t make it out of this situation wormed its way into my mind. That night was the most difficult time during this whole period. Compared with this outbreak, the peak of an epidemic called fear came much earlier.

‘Near every entrance to residential compounds there was a blue tent labelled as “disaster relief”, a surreal scene that I never would have imagined happening so close to home.’ ‘Near every entrance to residential compounds there was a blue tent labelled as “disaster relief”, a surreal scene that I never would have imagined happening so close to home.’

When you are immersed in fear, you will try anything to stay afloat. I began to comfort myself with logic; for example, the chance of us contracting the disease and getting seriously ill was low. After all, Yichang is hundreds of kilometres away from the epicentre of Wuhan, and we were not aware of having close contact with anyone who came from there.

Despite the lockdown, and increasingly draconian measures that were slowly but surely tightening, we insisted on venturing out of our residential compound every day to get some fresh air. In the early days we could still find someone on the street taking their daily walk or jogging alongside the riverbank. A few days later, all non-essential personnel in Hubei province were confined to their homes in a mandatory quarantine.

Our time of total confinement began.

Fortunately, all of us tried to make the best of our situation, and often joked away the tension and stress that lingered between us. We found that doing family activities such as singing and pep talks helped. Not everyone was lucky to have such company. There were many trapped in Yichang without a place to stay, quickly running out of supplies and with no one to turn to. Social media were full of chat groups and desperate pleas asking for assistance for supplies or a way out of the province. I was in one group where many did not have a stable income to weather the storm.

I found it was crucial to find simple pleasures and focus on positive things that happened around me. Without mass transport and factories in operation, the usually smog-thick sky became clearer. Birds were taking over the streets, and I wondered what they would think of this sudden retreat of bothersome humans. One of them would land outside my window every day, linger for a few seconds and then freely fly away with a stick in its mouth. It reminded me that in nature, everything was carrying on as if nothing had happened.

‘By March 20, armies of kites were in the skies. Mine eventually broke free, but I didn’t mind one bit.’ ‘By March 20, armies of kites were in the skies. Mine eventually broke free, but I didn’t mind one bit.’

Soon, we created a daily routine in our confinement, fear gradually subsided, and our basic needs were being better addressed by government-sponsored deliveries and the apparent improvement of the official statistics. It is true what they say – given time we are capable of adapting in adverse situations.

After nearly a month, outdoors seemed less attractive than before. We nonetheless were excited to get out of the main gate, only to find a largely deserted city criss-crossed by barricades of various kinds serving as improvised checkpoints everywhere. Near every entrance to residential compounds there was a blue tent labelled as “disaster relief”, a surreal scene that I never would have imagined happening so close to home.

Gradually some shops, especially barber shops, began to open in secret. By March 20, armies of kites were in the skies. Mine eventually broke free, but I didn’t mind one bit.

At the time of writing this, Hubei is gradually returning to normal on all levels. Travelling outside the province is still restricted, but this is relaxing daily. Since early March, the situation outside China has been rapidly deteriorating. As I find countries are adopting some of the draconian methods I thought would never happen outside China, I have become less critical about our earlier efforts to contain the disease.

For anyone who is experiencing what we have been through, I would say this: The situation will get much worse before it gets better in the coming months. But rest assured, if we all do our bit, everything is going to be fine.

The Correspondent, April – June 2020

Why gender doesn’t matter to first Hong Kong-born female neurosurgeon

FCC member Dr Jenny Pu, president of the Hong Kong Neuro-oncology Society and chair of the PVW Brain Tumour Foundation, talks to Rebecca Feng about how she became the first Hong Kong-born female neurosurgeon.

Jenny Pu. Jenny Pu.

I have always been a mediocre type of student,” Dr Jenny Pu says, taking her time to think before each sentence. “By the time I was admitted to medical school, I wanted to get away because the culture was very different from what I had experienced as an undergrad in Canada.”

But she stayed, and eventually earned an MBBS (Bachelor of Medicine, Bachelor of Surgery) and a Masters of Surgery from the University of Hong Kong.

She decided not to apply for any jobs after her last internship because she felt that she could not handle the stress. But Pu’s last rotation had been in the Department of Neurosurgery and they were looking for a trainee. When her senior approached her, Pu agreed. That was the first pivotal point in her career, Pu says. The second came in 2003, when SARS was raging in the city.

“I volunteered to become one of those who took care of the SARS patients,” she recalls. “It was a very bad year.”

Afterwards, Pu decided to get away from Hong Kong for a while and she went to Edinburgh. For the next 16 months she worked as a registrar and trainee, eventually earning the Douglas Miller Medal from the Royal College of Surgeons in Edinburgh.

She enjoyed watching performances of Shakespeare and meeting warm-hearted Scottish people, but also had time to think about the path she would take next. In 2006, with encouragement from her boss, Pu returned to Hong Kong and started at the Queen Mary Hospital, where she now works as a consultant in the Department of Neurosurgery.

Pu attended to Marilyn Hood, membership and marketing co-ordinator at the FCC, until she passed away earlier this year. “She was such a sweet lady with a very strong and good character,” Pu recalls. “During her stay in MacLehose Medical Rehabilitation Centre, she still loved her job and was very organised about her work. I loved talking to her. When she passed away in the Queen Mary Hospital, I was overseas and was very upset I was not able to say goodbye to her.”

Pu was the first Hong Kong-born female neurosurgeon in Hong Kong, an achievement that she tried hard to talk down during the interview. “That doesn’t matter in many, many ways,” she says. “In being able to decide your career and being able to deliver, there is no gender difference. What is required in your profession is what is required.”

She shifted in her seat and continued: “I believe in equality if you have the ability to obtain it. Don’t try to make use of your minority status to attain equality if you are not able to. You have to ask yourself what your responsibilities are before you ask about your rights.”

Being a doctor is a service, Pu says. And in delivering this service, male and female surgeons need to strike a balance. “As females, we are more meticulous,” she says. “We are more personal. My patients would love to hug me, just to get the warmth.

“The thing is, when you write, you are the most happy,” Pu adds, smiling. “When I scrub [my hands] to do surgery, I am the most happy. So that’s how I decided to become a neurosurgeon.”

New FCC member Rebecca Feng covers the Chinese market opening-up process for Euromoney Institutional Investor in Hong Kong. Before that, she wrote for Forbes Asia in New York, covering Asia start-ups and billionaires.

 

Victory as planners cut Bishop Hill hospital down to size

A large, looming hospital planned to be built on historic Bishop Hill, adjacent to the FCC, has been curtailed by the Town Planning Board.

Artist’s impression of proposed 25-storey hospital at the SKH site. Artist’s impression of proposed 25-storey hospital at the SKH site.

In a considerable recent victory for objectors against a new 25-storey hospital proposed by the Sheng Kung Hui (Anglican church) – occupants of the site since the 1840s – the Board has now imposed an 80 metres height restriction on any newly-built structure on the northern part of the site.

Importantly, any redevelopment or demolition of existing buildings will need the Board’s approval. This means any future development proposals for Bishop Hill will be publicly available and open to public comment through the Town Planning Board.

Meet the jade collector who turned down a US$25,000 offer from Francis Ford Coppola

FCC member Angus Forsyth has been described as having “the eye of one of the greatest living collectors of Chinese jade”. Here he talks with his old friend Jonathan Sharp about his latest book

Angus Forsyth Angus Forsyth

When I first met Angus Forsyth in Hong Kong in the early 1970s, he collected Mao badges. He had amassed a huge and varied collection. It so impressed Francis Ford Coppola that the film director offered to buy the lot for US$25,000 (HK$196,000). Nothing doing. “I turned him down because as a collector I was still forming the collection and I was not a collection seller.”

And what an assiduous and eclectic collector Angus is. Being a former president of the Oriental Ceramics Society of Hong Kong and co-author of a book Jades from China speak for themselves. As does the title of his latest book, Ships of the Silk Road: The Bactrian Camel in Chinese Jade.

Angus Forsyth's Ships of the Silk Road Angus Forsyth’s Ships of the Silk Road

It’s a sumptuously produced volume, many years in gestation. What inspired him? “It was a confluence of things. One was the collecting of Bactrian camels in jade, which was fascinating to me. Another is visiting various places along the Silk Road – more than once – because it’s a dynamic, beautiful and impressive area. Another is the historical association of certain peoples with the Silk Road and running the traffic along the Silk Road.”

Finally, Angus knew that no other single publication about the fabled trade routes connecting China with the West, and beyond, has covered these fields.

Nephrite jade is much harder than other jades, so much so that it cannot be carved Nephrite jade is much harder than other jades, so much so that it cannot be carved

Now he has filled that void. His book is richly illustrated, displaying many of his collection of antique jade camels, and is complemented by fascinating text on the role of peoples, camels and jade in the Silk Road saga.

The jade Angus writes about is not the common or garden variety, which is mostly green and comes from Myanmar. Of Angus’s collection of 75 antique jade camels, all but five are made of nephrite jade. This kind varies in colour and has what enthusiasts say is an agreeably sensuous feel to it. “If you touch it, it responds to your hand,” says Angus.

Nephrite jade is also much harder than other jades, so much so that it cannot be carved. Instead it is worked into the desired form by using abrasives that are even harder.

It comes from what used to be the kingdom of Khotan and what is now part of China’s Xinjiang Uighur Autonomous Region. Angus says that nephrite jade’s toughness has given rise to all sorts of linguistic synonyms for being durable, reliable and at the same time beautiful. “It’s become part of being Chinese. It’s a matter of constancy, it doesn’t change, it remains inviolate.”

From the Neolithic era on, the jade’s indestructability made it popular for use in burials of important people. Unlike bronze, it doesn’t erode. One of the camels illustrated dates back to 900 BC.

How the jade is formed is something of a mystery. It used to be thought that pebbles of the jade were formed by tumbling down fast-flowing rivers. “Whether or not that is a correct idea, I don’t know.”

As well as being attractive, nephrite jade is now extremely expensive – “more than gold, big time,” says Angus. I didn’t ask the obvious question of how much his collection is worth, but he did offer the following: a jade camel owned by a famous collector went at Sotheby’s recently for US$600,000 (HK$4.7 million).

Angus’s next project is a book about how the idea of human flight has been represented over the past 1,500 years – in jade.

 

 

 

Mental illness: The lonely taboo that weighs heavily on troubled minds

One in every four of us will struggle with mental health issues at some time, and FCC members Nic and Becky Gaunt decided to raise awareness of the issue in a creative and unique way. Kate Whitehead reports.

Andrew Work Andrew Work

Fine art photographer Nic Gaunt and his wife Becky are hands down the club’s creative power couple. They have built a solid reputation for striking, edgy images and their recent Wall exhibition is no exception. Stones, a collection of 50 portraits that aim to raise awareness about mental health issues, is a deeply personal project.

“Hong Kong can be a very overwhelming and intense place, any feelings you have can be magnified,” says Nic. “Discussing mental illness here is more of a taboo than in the UK. I experienced this firsthand and decided to undertake this project to raise awareness.”

The British-born artist says he felt as though he had a huge weight on his shoulders, as though he were dragging a stone around all day. A strongly visual person, he wondered whether he could embody the notion in an actual physical stone. He shared his thoughts with friends. Some said that they had similar experiences, and so the idea for the Stones project was born.

Ines Laimins Ines Laimins

“A lot of people said they struggled or have friends or family who have struggled with mental health problems. They related to the idea. That was 12 months ago,” says Nic.

The project spread by word of mouth, as well as a social media call-out, and over the year Nic created 50 images. For some of those who posed for the photographs, it is their first public acknowledgement of a private struggle. Others are captured carrying a stone to represent the burden they share with a friend or family member.

The Club’s former general manager Gilbert Cheng is pictured leaning back against a huge rock on D’Aguilar Street, in Central. He wanted to join the project in the hope of helping remove the stigma around mental illness.

Gilbert Cheng Gilbert Cheng

“We need to accept that we have among us people of all types of constitution and emotional threshold,” says Cheng. “We should educate them from a young age not to expect that life is a bed of roses, and that these beautiful flowers have fragrance but also thorns.”

For another Club member, Andrew Work, the premise of the project resonated with him. “Hong Kong is made up of many people, but when you are in your head, it can be a very, very lonely place. It weighs on you,” says Work.

The diversity of people who posed for the Gaunts shows that mental health issues are not bound by race, class or gender.

“People posed from across the board. We’ve got almost all nationalities featured – German, Chinese, Filipino, Taiwanese, Nigerian, English, Australian, Canadian, Korean, Japanese, South American, Indian,” says Becky, who curated the project.

She also collected the stories of those featured and produced a book, The
Stone
. Reading the personal, and often very raw and frank accounts of those pictured, makes the project even more powerful. These are people who are brave enough to stand up and say that they have struggled with a mental health issue – and by coming out Becky hopes that more people will feel comfortable about speaking up about their own struggles.

Ines Laimins, an actress, has featured in some of the couple’s previous projects and said she was keen to be involved with this one. “Everyone has struggled with something at some point, everyone can relate to this project in some way. [The Gaunts] take on projects that have a social impact, and I think this one, which brings mental illness into the open, is especially important,” says Laimins.

Those who volunteered to take part had seen the initial “Stone” images and many arrived at the shoot expecting to be pushing an actual rock. “One guy said, ‘Is it inflatable? Is it in your backpack?’” says Nic.

Rayve: “It is through awareness and empathy that we can actually help sufferers and make the world a better place to live.” Rayve: “It is through awareness and empathy that we can actually help sufferers and make the world a better place to live.”

In reality, the stones are only a few inches big. Nic photographed the participants quickly on the street – just six or seven frames for each person – and shot the stones separately. He then used his digital darkroom skills to meld the two.

“It was a very time-consuming process, adding the shadows to make it look like the stone was really there,” says Nic.

Hongkongers’ mental health has deteriorated, with the ongoing protests adding to people’s stress. A study in October conducted by the Chinese University used the World Health Organisation Well-Being Index (WHO-5), with a range of between 0 and 100, and 52 as the passing score. An acceptable mental health level was between 52 and 68 while above 72 showed a good status. The study found Hongkongers scored 46.41, below the previous year’s score of 50.20, and well below the acceptable passing score.

The Gaunts hope that the exhibition will continue to travel after its introduction on the Club’s Wall, to help remove the stigma around mental health issues. According to the WHO, one in four people in the world will be affected by a mental health issue at some point in their lives.

This is not a commercial project for the Gaunts, they are only interested in raising social awareness and getting people talking. If you would like to display some of the images in your office or other communal area, please contact Becky at [email protected]. If you would like to buy a copy of the book, The Stone (HK$500), please contact the Club’s reception desk. For more about the project go to www.nicgaunt.com

Kate Whitehead has lived in Hong Kong since she was seven. She is a journalist and author of two non-fiction crime books – After Suzie: Sex in South China and Hong Kong Murders.

Brenda and Vivian: “It’s so important to raise awareness of a subject so Brenda and Vivian: “It’s so important to raise awareness of a subject so many people turn their backs on. It’s also something many people don’t know how to deal with or how to process. In addition, anyone who has ‘the problem’ is often in denial and reluctant to get help.”
Carolyn: “I’ve known far too many people who have suffered in silence, been too scared to ask for help, or not got help when they tried. No-one should feel they can’t say anything about how they are feeling, and everyone deserves the support they need when they do. If you think a friend or a colleague might just need someone to ask them if they feel alright, then don’t hesitate. Ask them.”
Christian:  “I have personally seen how mental health problems can destroy families, and lives. Most of the time it goes unnoticed and untreated until it’s too late. I remember my college roommate seemed like a happy healthy guy, until one Christmas Eve he was found dead, no one knew he was ill, no one knew he had stopped taking meds.”

Introducing… FCC new members, January 2020

The latest group of members to join the FCC is, as always, an interesting bunch. The Membership Committee meets regularly to go through applications and is always impressed by the diversity of people who want to join the Club.

Paul Geitner

I’m an editor at Bloomberg News, focused on explanatory journalism. I grew up in Philadelphia but soon began moving around the U.S., eventually landing in New York with the Associated Press before heading in 1996 to Berlin, then to Brussels. Around that time I made my first trip to China, finishing after a couple weeks touring in Hong Kong. I switched in 2005 to The
International Herald Tribune/New York Times
in Paris (and briefly Hong Kong again). I came back with The Wall Street
Journal
en route to Jakarta in 2016. This is my first time living here with an actual HKID (and FCC membership card). I like to explore new hiking trails, art exhibits and remote islands.


Kenneth Zee

I was born in Yokohama, Japan, of Chinese parents. I studied Chemical Engineering at the University of Southern California, and a graduate degree in Manufacturing Engineering. I started my career with Chevron and worked in Japan and the United States. I was transferred to this never-sleeping, exciting, and glamorous city in 1993. I loved Hong Kong so much that I refused to be transferred until I took early retirement from Chevron in 2010 to pursue my long-time dream to become a photographer and an inventor. I held three photo exhibitions in 2018 and am planning another. I obtained two worldwide patents related to hand-washing devices and mixing bottles and just filed my third patent for a reusable drinking bottle. My wife Natsuko and I are thrilled to join the FCC.


Philip Cowley

I’m the trailing spouse. Formally the professor of politics at Queen Mary University of London, I’m in Hong Kong because my wife landed a great job as Group Chief Communications Officer for the Hong Kong Stock Exchange. While here I’m doing some freelance writing, mostly on British politics, for The Times, Daily Mail, Prospect, Spectator, and London Evening Standard, amongst others. Having never lived outside the UK, this seemed a good time to try it – with the prospect of escaping Brexit thrown in as a bonus. In practice Brexit has followed us and I’ve already found myself giving talks on the subject.

 


Thomas Duffell

After a few years stumbling from one profession to another I decided to go back to school and study to become a journalist. So far, so good, and after a short stint working as a freelance sports reporter in London, I found my way to finance. I now cover Asia’s financial markets as the managing editor of hedge fund-focused publication, AsiaHedge. A far cry from my undergraduate studies in Archaeology. When I’m not propping up the Main Bar or shooting pool at Bert’s, I’m usually at the beach. I’m always on the lookout for someone new to beat me at golf and I can make up the numbers at football.

 


Tanja Wessels

Born into a diplomatic family, geographic diversity has always been a constant. Sometimes I am South African, sometimes Portuguese, depending on the sports team or the topic. I studied filmmaking and art in Lisbon and London before moving to Asia in 2006. I went to Phnom Penh to make a documentary for two weeks and ended up staying four years, followed by Macau and now Hong Kong. More recently sustainability has become my focus, in particular fashion and eco-anxiety, and in 2017 I helped found Circular Community HK. I’m launching a creative company to better communicate climate change. Travel is important and recent destinations include DRC, Rwanda, Uganda and Botswana. Every year I head to Nevada for Burning Man.


Robin Duxfield

I work as Chief Operating Officer for IronBirch Capital in hedge fund operations and Hong Kong has been my home since 2008. My wife is an indigenous resident of Lamma Island and we enjoy travel and adventure. We have explored Champagne’s wine caves, floated by hot-air balloon above Tanzania’s great wildebeest migration and walked on a glacier in New Zealand. I climbed Kilimanjaro and ran a midnight-sun marathon within the Arctic Circle in Norway. We were lucky enough to see people voting in Burma’s 2012 historic by-elections, dolphins and whales swimming in Auckland harbour, and to walk with cheetahs in Namibia. And now we’ve embarked on the greatest adventure of all – parenthood! We’re excited to become members at FCC and look forward to many more new adventures.


David Cain

Born and educated in NZ, I moved as a teenager to Australia, where mum discovered to her disappointment that a Penal Colony was not a male nudist camp, and us kids swapped our traditional “Three Rs” education – reading, writing and rugby – with the more useful life skills of gambling, brawling and general chicanery. Shortly thereafter I discovered the good book; not the Bible but Lonely Planet’s South East Asia on a Shoestring which I used religiously throughout the late 80s and early 90s as I backpacked across the region. Fast forward some career changes and a few wives and I moved to HKG in early 2000. During the past 18 years I have lived and worked in Seoul, Tokyo, Singapore and Shanghai but always coming back, like a missing sock in a clothes dryer, to my adopted home of Hong Kong where I am executive managing director, Asia, for Brookfield Global Integrated Solutions.


Philip Seth Krichilsky

My name is Phil Krichilsky – father, climber, business turnaround lackey. I was born in New Jersey, U.S., own a home in Wyoming (a place with more bears and sheep than people), served in the U.S. Army Infantry for eight years, and have run troubled and challenged businesses for over 20 years. I rock and ice climb all over the world and tell grossly exaggerated stories about my skills on the high ground. For the better part of the past 12 years I have lived in Hong Kong, Shanghai, and Beijing, and, as a result, I speak truly awful Mandarin that supplanted the poor French I spoke before. Education wise, I studied engineering at West Point, business at Central Michigan and, please forgive me, government at Harvard. Beyond that, I live alone in Wan Chai surrounded by honking horns and a loud market and am president of Innovative Directions.


Michael Allen

I came to Hong Kong in April 2016 to set up the Asia-Pacific editorial desk of Airfinance Journal, a trade publication under Euromoney covering the aircraft financing and leasing sector. I’m now the Editor of Business Traveller Asia-Pacific, whose target readers are frequent business travellers. I’ve been specialising in aviation journalism for more than five years and have been privileged to witness the growth of Asia’s aviation sector with a front row seat. Before coming to Hong Kong, I was with Euromoney in London. I received a Masters degree in Newspaper Journalism from City University in 2014.

 


Pa Ning Wong

When I was five years old, I moved to Hong Kong with my mother and five sisters. Despite working several jobs as a child to support my family, I was grateful to grow up in the prosperity of Hong Kong. I started my first business, an oil and gas company in Canada, and partnered with Caterpillar, Husky Energy, and Chinese companies like CNOOC, Sinopec, and PetroChina to further the development of the oil and gas industry in China. Later, I branched out into real estate, art collection, book publishing, and philanthropy. Today, my charitable foundation has provided financial support to over 800 schools across China, and my focus remains on giving back to the community.


Malcolm Loudon

I’m a social entrepreneur devoted to revolutionising financial services for foreign domestic helpers, a scandalously under-appreciated demographic that deserves better. Head of relationships at fintech startup Good Financial and relishing the journey! Edinburgh born and bred and coming up to my sixth year in Hong Kong. Away from my work I’m a huge sports fan (rugby and golf especially), Bruce Springsteen diehard and lover of all types of whisky. I’m a keen student of innovation and invention in business, sport and other areas of life. I’m thrilled to join FCC, a venue I’ve always loved visiting and where you’d always meet amazingly colourful and quirky characters. If you see me at the bar, join me for a dram! Slàinte Mhath.


Boon Yat Vagman Wai

I’m Director of Regulatory Affairs and Policy for Prudential Hong Kong and also a former international banker who was fortunate to work in five Asian markets across different roles over the past two decades. I’m a HK native and always believe this is the best place in the world. I love lots of travelling with my wife and closest friends during my free time, enjoy fine dining, wine appreciation and am obsessed with analysing local markets and international insights. I also enjoy discussions of conspiracy theories and ancient civilizations. n

Play about Clare Hollingworth’s scoop of the century inspires children to #BeMoreClare

When a theatre company in the UK needed a story to introduce the Second World War to schoolchildren, Clare Hollingworth And the Scoop of the Century was born. Absent member Peter Cordingley and Sue Brattle report.

Actress Katy Dash as Clare in a poster for the play Actress Katy Dash as Clare in a poster for the play

There’s an inspiring new mantra in schools around the southwest of England that would amuse one of the FCC’s most famous former members no end – #BeMoreClare.

Tales of Clare Hollingworth’s extraordinary life of adventure and derring-do have been used to mark the 80th anniversary of the outbreak of the Second World War, with a touring theatre production that has played in 54 schools and numerous theatres.

Michael Smith as Arthur Watson, editor of the Daily Telegraph, prepares Clare’s big scoop for print. In the background, Katy Dash plays Clare Michael Smith as Arthur Watson, editor of the Daily Telegraph, prepares Clare’s big scoop for print. In the background, Katy Dash plays Clare

Clare Hollingworth and the Scoop of the Century was written around the famous moment in August 1939 when a young Clare witnessed German forces gathered on the border with Poland.

Clare, a longtime member of the FCC, died in 2017 at the age of 105. She had a remarkable career that took her to some of the most dangerous war zones in the world. In 1982 she was appointed an Order of the British Empire (OBE) by the UK’s Queen Elizabeth II for “services to journalism”.

The interactive show, by the Paddleboat Theatre Company, is bursting with storytelling, songs and, of course, a retelling of the Scoop of the Century, in which Clare told the world – through her report in the Daily Telegraph in London – of the start of World War Two.

Clare (Katy Dash, arms outstretched) with actors Stuart Cottrell and Hattie Brown Clare (Katy Dash, arms outstretched) with actors Stuart Cottrell and Hattie Brown

Michael Smith, the company’s tour manager, plays the Telegraph’s editor Arthur Watson and tells the audience:

“1,000 tanks massed on the Polish Border,

I knew she was good when we employed her.

She followed her nose to the heart of the mystery

And Clare, what you’ve found, it might just change history

Only time will tell us what is in store,

Whether this news means we’re going to war,

But in homes and in pubs, in crowds and in queues,

People will be discussing this front page news!”

Clare Hollingworth in her favourite chair at the FCC Clare Hollingworth in her favourite chair at the FCC

Michael, who expects the show to be revived next year by popular demand, said: “It’s lovely to hear that word of our show has reached the Foreign Correspondents’ Club in Hong Kong. Sadly we only heard about Clare’s life through her obituary, but found it to be such an amazing story, and one we couldn’t believe we hadn’t heard before.

“This show has been the culmination of two years’ work across 16 primary schools around Devon, finding out what WW2 means to children all these years later, how the role of women in the workplace has changed, and what it means to be a journalist.

“In a number of schools there is now a local mantra of #BeMoreClare, which we love. We’ve also been capturing feedback forms from our tour and it warms our hearts every time we see another one that reads: “Now I want to be a journalist!”

In its publicity material, Paddleboat describes Clare as “one of the most important writers of our time”, adding: “We chose to create a play about her and her big scoop to inspire children to follow their dreams and be who they want to be, and to educate adults and children alike about her incredible career.”

In partnership with Villages in Action, Paddleboat also secured backing from the Arts Council of England, the Lottery Fund and the Heritage Fund.

We measure site performance with cookies to improve performance.