Mark Cheung, in his early 20s, was moving garbage bags and sorting broken umbrellas in mid-October, on the outskirts of the occupied zone. A spot nearby was reserved for the accumulated trash to be picked up by the city garbage collectors.
Cheung had been asked to help by a friend, who sent him a map on Facebook of where to go. When asked how he liked the job, he said: “Yeah, it’s not too bad,” the laconic remark matching the Australian accent he spoke in.
Elaine Cheung, a 24-year-old videographer (and no relation to Mr. Cheung), had an even less organized entree into the world of toilet paper restocking. Apparently she took the day shift, before Mrs. Li arrives in the evening. Neither knows of the others’ existence. Cheung used hand soap one day, skin moisturizer the next, and finally the facial mask, all supplied in the bathroom.
Then she noticed the toilet paper was empty, so went looking for it at the material sites, and has been replacing it daily since then. “It reminds me of the Hong Kong I knew in primary school,” she said. “In that Hong Kong, people were helpful and willing to share. But after I was 18, people seemed more closed. With this, it’s like I’ve came back to Hong Kong.”
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