The Unity of Two Cultural Identities

Despite being a mere shopping mall, The Whampoa is a large part of my identity because of the role it played in shaping my childhood memories in Hong Kong practically every summer or winter. A specific place enclosed in one of the many buildings, Jumpin Gym, was the highlight of my childhood. 

Although The Whampoa is known as a popular tourist mall, it’s often full of locals and students looking for a break from their studies or a unique place to eat and shop at. As a child, I wasn’t a local, but I wasn’t just a tourist, either. I had that in-between feeling, a mix of shared traits with different groups of people who frequented the mall. The vendors in the mall itself reflected that mix, with local businesses selling goods alongside shops like Pepper Lunch, The Body Shop, and Pizza Hut, which have locations in the United States. The multicultural scene within The Whampoa itself makes a nod to its history, as it was built on the lands of the former Whampoa Dockyards (one of the busiest and largest docks in much of the 20th century) and the old Kai Tak Airport (in courtesy, buildings around the mall were built with fewer stories than typical Hong Kong buildings). Bits of Japanese culture shine through the mall through restaurants and, most notably, the popular general store, DonDonDonki—all of which pay homage to the significant Japanese population in the area. 

Despite my deep connection to this mall, I always had a hard time feeling like I belonged in the country of my ethnic minority due to my poor Cantonese speaking abilities and lack of knowledge on common Hong Kong mannerisms. But places within the mall like the Jumpin Gym made me feel at home, since I had so much fun playing there as a kid that I didn’t even notice my feeling of alienation at times. My love for the diverse cuisine in the area also helped me establish my sense of belonging, since I was able to name various dishes that I’d loved for years. 

Hong Kongers often seem unfriendly or rude, but that is just their culture. So it’s hard to find the ways they express love. I personally think that love is expressed through food in Hong Kong, where every dish—whether prepared by street vendors or loved ones—is made with love. It’s like how many parents of all backgrounds express love for their children by preparing cut fruit. 

The partially obscured sign serves as a metaphor for my Chinese heritage—that although it is hidden inside and lives on mostly as my childhood and a smaller piece of my minority, it’s the most prominent feature nevertheless, a focus of the photo.

Within my own identity I want to continue to have my culture of Hong Kong shine as it does in this photo, even if at times it becomes hard to carry on with my limited grasp. In Irvine, as a child and teen, my exposure was so limited that I wasn’t able to find fellow Hong Kongers to relate my traditions and bond with. As a high schooler now, I have the privilege to work with an in-school club to meet more of these people, and I want to be able to spread the culture and identity of Hong Kong more within the community.