Fading Echoes of Tradition: The Impending Demise of Hong Kong’s Cha Kwo Ling Village
For decades, Cha Kwo Ling Village stood as a testament to Hong Kong’s enduring spirit, a vibrant tapestry woven from the lives of low-income families and rich cultural heritage. Yet, this centuries-old squatter settlement, nestled between a majestic mountain and the glistening sea in eastern Kowloon, now faces an uncertain future, its existence threatened by impending demolition to make way for public housing.
Lo Yuet-ping, a 73-year-old resident who was born and raised in the village, still finds himself drawn back to his former home, even months after being compelled to move out. The memories of a bygone era, a time of community and tradition, linger strongly, prompting him to advocate for the preservation of Cha Kwo Ling’s unique cultural legacy before it is irrevocably erased.
“I was born here,” Lo shared, his voice tinged with a deep sense of loss. “It was hard [to leave].” His words echo the sentiments of many who have called this unique settlement home for generations.
Cha Kwo Ling Village, characterized by its hundreds of small houses constructed primarily from corrugated metal sheets, has historically served as a sanctuary for low-income families. Over the centuries, it has evolved into a distinct enclave, deeply imbued with the traditional cultures of the Hakka people and Cantonese communities.
The Hong Kong government’s decision to clear the village for public housing development was announced in 2019. The eviction process began in phases, with the first stage in 2024 and the second commencing in 2025. The official deadline for clearance was set for September 12th. When visited by reporters more than three months after this deadline, the village presented a somber scene. Many doors were shut, and premises were sealed, indicative of the ongoing displacement.
One of the last vestiges of the village’s commercial life, Tak Kee Store, had lowered its shutters on the day of the visit. Nearby, the sounds of redevelopment echoed, with some structures already reduced to rubble. Despite the pervasive signs of demolition, a small number of residents and businesses persevered, holding on to their livelihoods amidst the encroaching change.
Deep within the village’s labyrinthine alleys, a poignant symbol of Cha Kwo Ling’s cultural heart resided: a collection of about half a dozen vibrant kirin heads. These elaborate props, essential for the traditional kirin dance, belong to the Cha Kwo Ling Kirin Dance Team, a group that Lo Yuet-ping has proudly led for over three decades. Their future, like that of the village itself, hung precariously in the balance.
The Auspicious Kirin and its Cultural Significance
The kirin, a mythical creature often depicted as a blend of horse, deer, and dragon, holds a special place in traditional Hakka culture. The kirin dance, performed to invoke good fortune, shares similarities with the more widely recognized lion dance. For generations, the Hakka community of Cha Kwo Ling has held the kirin in deep reverence.
Lo’s own family history is intertwined with the village’s narrative. His parents sought refuge in Hong Kong during the turbulent 1940s, fleeing the ravages of World War Two and the Chinese Civil War. They eventually settled in Cha Kwo Ling, then a thriving hub for granite quarrying, which provided employment for thousands.
At its zenith, Cha Kwo Ling was a bustling community, home to an estimated 30,000 residents, many of whom were employed in the quarry. The village also held deep spiritual significance, with the worship of Tin Hau, the revered goddess of the sea, a central tenet of its spiritual life. The original Tin Hau temple, constructed in the first half of the 19th century during the Qing Dynasty, was rebuilt in 1948.
Annually, on Tin Hau’s birthday, celebrated on the 23rd day of the third lunar month, villagers would gather to honor the goddess. The festivities included traditional Cantonese opera performances and the auspicious kirin dance, all in earnest prayers for a year of peace, health, and prosperity.
“It has to be the kirin that escorts Tin Hau, because it is a blessed creature,” Lo explained, emphasizing the unique role of the kirin in their traditions. “The fortune wouldn’t come if it were a lion – you just can’t deny it.”
Lo’s personal connection to the kirin dance began in his teenage years, after mastering the lion dance. In the 1990s, he was instrumental in founding the kirin dance team, bringing together fellow villagers and assuming the role of team leader.
At its peak, the team boasted over 60 members, capable of deploying up to 10 kirin performances for festive occasions. The kirin dance itself is a demanding art form, requiring two performers for each kirin – one to manage the head and the other the tail – with frequent substitutions needed due to the intense physical exertion involved.
However, as the village’s older generation began to age, the kirin dance team faced a critical challenge: a dwindling influx of new members. Today, Lo estimates that fewer than two dozen members remain.
The Uncertain Future of a Dispersed Community
Once a vibrant hub with essential amenities like a school, wet market, church, and temple, Cha Kwo Ling began to see its population dwindle after the closure of the quarry in 1990. Many villagers transitioned from their modest homes to more modern high-rise apartments. In 2023, prior to the commencement of the eviction process, local media reported that the village was home to approximately 1,500 residents and 26 business owners, citing government figures.
Lo recounted the villagers’ efforts to advocate for resettlement in their original location, an appeal that was ultimately rejected by the authorities. In October, he bid a final farewell to the home where he had spent over seven decades and relocated to a public housing unit in Yau Tong Estate. While his ancestral home is lost, Lo remains fiercely committed to the preservation of the kirin dance tradition.
“I’ve been contacting the Lands Department, urging them to keep the premises [of the kirin dance team] in the village, but I have received no reply so far,” he stated, highlighting the lack of official engagement.
As redevelopment casts its shadow, some kirin heads have been relocated to a storage facility in Sai Kung. However, a portion remains in their original home in Cha Kwo Ling Village. Lo is exploring options for the preservation of these cultural artifacts, including the potential donation of damaged kirin heads to museums. Yet, the overarching question remains: can the kirin dance team, now dispersed across the city, continue to exist?
“The big question is whether we continue or disband,” Lo mused, acknowledging the significant challenges of maintaining a cohesive team without a shared physical space. “Without a meeting point, it may be difficult for us to run as a team.”
In a glimmer of hope for preserving some of Cha Kwo Ling’s heritage, the Antiquities and Monuments Office announced in July 2024 that the Tin Hau Temple and Law Mansion, a historic structure dating back to around 1900, would be spared from the development.
However, a policy think tank, the Liber Research Community, argued in a 2022 article that the focus should extend beyond these specific landmarks to encompass the entire village, recognizing its intrinsic value as a repository of historic buildings and rich cultural traditions.
Lo still harbors a hope that villagers will reunite at the Tin Hau Temple for the upcoming celebration on Tin Hau’s birthday in May. Nevertheless, he is acutely aware of the growing difficulties in bringing people together in the future.
“I believe villagers will come back [for the celebration] because we are still attached to this place even though we have moved out,” he expressed, his voice filled with a mix of nostalgia and resignation. “But I understand it’s hard, because we don’t live as a community anymore.” The story of Cha Kwo Ling Village is a poignant reminder of the delicate balance between urban development and the preservation of cultural heritage, a narrative that plays out in many cities around the world.
