Fiction: Group 4
New Tales of the Pearl River Delta
Canadian International School of Hong Kong, Sneader, Alison - 14, Fiction: Group 4
recariously perched on a wobbly chair gazing out of a small window sits a small, well-aged Man. His
well-worn hands placed securely in his lap, his glassy eyes glaze over watching the cars pass by his
home. Eventually he rises from his spot by the small window. Before Miguel grew small and aged, he
was a slender, ambitious young man recently arrived in Macau from Portugal.
In the 1950s Miguel and his childhood love wed, sharing dreams of adventure and exploration of a
life outside of their home country. Miguel and his bride both shared a passion for education drawing on
their freshly minted degrees. The young couple moved to Macau, a then Portuguese colony, to spend their
new lives together. Miguel found a job as a schoolteacher, and his wife nurtured their three children until
they flew the nest. He and she were in ultimate bliss, living on an Island of a few square miles that they grew
to call home.
Miguel can remember the day when things started to change not only for him, but for the whole of
Macau. In December of 1999, Macau was handed back to China, as was Miguel and his family – or at least
that is how he saw reunification. From that point forward, Miguel became weary of his Macau. On a
Monday a new building would appear, and the next day two others. It became clear that a Metropolis was
being constructed while he and his old Macau were left to fade away into the embers of history.
Flanked by greed-ridden tourists rushing to Casinos to cash in on a prize, Miguel could hardly
recognize his Macau. The Portuguese colony he once loved so much had seemed to transform into a
Gambler’s nirvana. Beyond his home a world of change was growing, a world of prosperity, something
much bigger than felt comfortable; a place far beyond his control, his humble home slipping away from him
before he could fully say goodbye.
Miguel was not alone in facing the consequences of change.
Sixty-five kilometres and a ferry ride away from the Gambling Sanctuary, Wai-ling looked fixedly
out of the acres of glass surrounding his sleek 56
th
floor office in the heart of Shenzhen. On his desk lay an
array of sticky-notes each bearing a time and place for Wai-ling to arrive. Sitting atop the desk also lay a
few pens and pencils, a large state-of-the art computer, a calendar and wooden picture frames enclosing
grainy sepia toned photographs.
In the first photo, a young man in his late twenties is holding a new born baby. The man’s smile
stretches from ear to ear, his eyes creasing upwards in the same manner of a child given the key to a
chocolate factory. Beaming down at his young child, it seemed as if nothing in the world could make him
upset in that moment. Wai-ling knows this man. For the man in the photo is none other than his father.
This photo was Wai-ling’s favourite of snap of his father, Sin-Feng.
Throughout his life, Wai-Ling had listened to Sin-Feng’s tales of the old Shenzhen, before it was
the metropolis that exists today. Sin-Feng lived in Shenzhen for his entire life and the years had provided
ample time for him to acquire a set of stories that means there was always another anecdote up his sleeve.
Wai-Ling remembers Sin-Feng telling him of his Fisherman past. In the 1970s, the main source of income
was through the fishing business, he remembers his father recalling. Wai-Ling reminisces of his father’s
chuckle. Indeed, a smile crosses his lips as his mind wanders to tales from a time when Shenzhen’s
population was a mere 30,000 in vivid contrast to today’s 14 million.
By definition, Sin-Feng told him, Shenzhen truly was a traditional Chinese fishing village. Reed
walkways connected little Reed huts into which all of the Fishermen would gather in the afternoon. What a
difference from the skyscrapers that a mere 40 years later house businessmen like Wai-ling.
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