The most interesting sights in the cities are still, the people who live and work there! Translated…
Standing, below the building of Hong Kong’s legislature, I’d felt like I was, in a dream, dizzy, don’t know if it was because I’d trekked too long that day, the awful sounds I’d heard from the hotel the night before, or, if it was how the building hovered down over me.
The Sunday at Magong Park was stuffed with the foreign caretakers, they’d clustered themselves together or sat, or lay, on the floor or the lawn, their dialects, became, a sort of a, secret code. I’d, trekked in the midst of them all, and, gotten glared at time and time again, every time I’d put my camera down, I’d, accidentally, engaged with them.
the photo that came with the article, off of UDN.com…
Actually, these few days of travel, I’d, seen this a lot, on the sky bridges, by the steps, I can always, see the group of them, wrapped up in blankets, curled down, on the flattened cardboard boxes. There are, similar sights in Taiwan too, Zhongli was even, nicknamed the “rental place for the migrant workers”, but, whether it’s Taiwan or Hong Kong, there’s, one thing that stayed the same, this group of people, only have the rights, to look upward.
They’d become, a very important part, of the development of the countries’ economy now, but, in this sea of strange people, they can only, look up to the equal treatment of the people locally, or the basic human rights of people in the U.S. Those high and shiny buildings, became the gaps in-between the places they were, looking up from. The tall and shiny buildings were, stuck to the ground by the capitalist in Hong Kong, they’d looked all around, for a place call “home”, and can’t find it, and so, they’d, sat themselves down, and call it “home”.
After settling down, they’d, started gazing up toward the skies with their companions, the skies that were, cut to pieces, by the lines of this city.
And so, this described how it’d felt, to be foreign, to a place, that longing, to find a place that you can belong in, a place called, “home”, but, these migrant workers, will never find it, because, they will be treated like, outsiders to a country, because that, is what they are, and, NO matter how many activists groups were, able to get more rights for them, they’re, still, different from the local citizens of a country!