Arguments over development in villages are far from over, writes Winnie Yeung.



Hong Kong has started 2010 with a bang—despite the 10,000 protesters surrounding Legco for two nights, legislators have voted for the go-ahead on the controversial Hong Kong-Guangzhou Express Rail Link, a $66.9 billion infrastructure project that brings the demolition ball to Choi Yuen Tsuen in Sheung Shui (read more about the protests on p.10). But not far from Choi Yuen Tsuen, another rural village controversy is looming. A week ago 100 Sheung Shui villagers blocked the entrances of villages Tsung Pak Long, Yin Kong and Ho Sheung Heung—all part of the Long Valley—to prevent bird-watchers from entering their land on a Sunday. They put up strongly worded banners stating, “Private property—no entry or photography. There is a wild boar problem here and we have put traps around. Violators might be killed. Enter at your own risk.” Bird-watchers felt threatened by the banners and alerted the police, who responded by sending a team to the site to monitor the situation. All of a sudden a new battle in Sheung Shui was born—nature lovers versus villagers.

Well, this is not a new battle per se; it’s been going on for the past few decades. The remaining rural areas have been under constant threat because indigenous villagers are desperate to cash in on their land in the New Territories. Conservationists and the government have stepped in to try and salvage the remaining natural landscape before it is too late, developing policies and legislation, and providing active involvement and assistance to residents and farmers. In fact, the recent argument brings on the feeling of déjà vu, as the most heated discussion during the past decade on village development was regarding—none other than—Long Valley 10 years ago. The then Kowloon-Canton Railway Corporation (KCRC) intended to build the Lok Ma Chau spur line right across Long Valley that year, which triggered endless arguments between the railway company, the conservationists, the government, and most of all, the indigenous villagers. Long Valley is “widely recognized as being of high ecological value primarily due to the variety of freshwater wetland-dependent bird species,” according to the Agriculture, Fisheries and Conservation Department. The Hong Kong Bird Watching Society has also recorded 200 species of birds there. This claim, however, is flatly denied by indigenous villagers, with prominent figures such as village rights mouthpiece Brian Kan making his famous deduction that Long Valley, although mostly made up of wetlands and farmlands, has no birds whatsoever. And that, of course, is related to the fact that KCRC intended to compensate villagers in order to build the spur line. Public outcry followed, and KCRC finally conceded and built a tunnel instead.

For the 10 years that followed, Long Valley was left alone. Indigenous villagers rented out farmland to farmers and worked towards sustainable development with the Conservancy Association. To outsiders, Long Valley has returned to the quiet rural area that it originally was. But not to the villagers, according to Sheung Shui District Rural Committee executive member Hau Hing-chuen. Hau, who is also the village representative of Yin Kong (which conservationists claim is a bird haven in Long Valley), accuses ecotourists of trespassing in their villages in the name of bird-watching and disturbing the villagers’ lives. It was this behaviour which triggered some residents to hang the threatening banners in question. “Yes, we are trying to scare people away,” he says. “But we are doing it because there is no other way.”

Around six years ago, when ecotourism became a buzzword, and the government started to promote so-called green tourism, an influx of travel agencies started to organize ecotours, and many chose Long Valley as a destination because of its high environmental value. Eco-group Green Power has, for example, mapped out a route on their website (www.greenpower.org.hk/gp/classroom/images/eco/e_nt-longyuen.html) for those who would like to travel around Long Valley for an ecotour. Its route, according to the map, goes straight across the privately owned villages there. Amateur photographers and bird-watchers have also started to visit Long Valley.

According to Hau, there is up to seven coach-loads of people visiting Long Valley at one time on any random Sunday and this has caused a nuisance. “I am not sure how this is ecotourism when there is coach after coach coming to our villages,” he says. “When so many people visit the area at the same time, it won’t really make the environment any quieter.” Farmer Mr. Wong, who has been farming in Long Valley for three decades, says he is often obstructed by bird-watchers when he tries to work at his farm on Sunday, because the bird-watchers are blocking his paths to the farmland. “Sometimes they step on my vegetables accidentally. Other times they don’t like to give way when I am trying to go past them on my path,” he says. “I appreciate bird-watching but it’d be better if they asked before walking onto my farm.” Hau says the ecotour organizers, aside from those in Conservancy Association, never alert them in advance when bringing people to Long Valley. “All they have to do is to ask,” Hau says. When HK Magazine visited Long Valley on a Sunday, we found that there were around 30 people in the field, not as many as Hau suggested. But when asked whether they have requested permission to enter the farmland, amateur photographer Howard Lee says he did not know he has to ask. “It just never occurred to me,” he says. “I assumed all paths between farmlands are public. We are not taking over their lands. We are just passing through.” He adds that the threatening banner is “barbaric.” Conservancy Association conservation manager Ken So says he is aware of certain behaviors of the ecotourists and amateur photographers that might have upset the villagers. “Sometimes the photographers are really just going there to take pictures of the birds, no matter what it takes,” he says. “They aren’t there for conservation purposes.” Conservancy Association has limited the number of people in their tours to less than 40 to minimize the disturbance but he notices there are tour guides bringing a lot of people to Long Valley at once. “What is missing here is respect,” he says. “The visitors and the guides should respect the people living there and the nature. They really should ask before entering any farmland.”

The questionable quality of ecotour guides has been in the news in recent years. Secretary for Environment Edward Yau says more than 400 people have been trained to be an ecotour guide. However, So says that the government has yet to give out clear guidelines on how ecotourism could be conducted in line with nature conservation and Hong Kong is still lacking properly trained ecotour guides. Currently, there are no licenses needed to prove the expertise of an ecotour guide. An Environmental Bureau spokesperson says they cannot comment on the current incident, as the Tourism Commission is responsible for tourism, while the Planning Department is in charge of Long Valley’s development. Hau says the government has never contacted the villages on matters related to ecotourism, despite promoting it.

As for Long Valley, of course the indigenous villagers’ anger has stemmed not from some innocent trespassing but rather the very intricate relationships between money, land ownership, politics and a recent government proposal to zone Long Valley as a conservation zone. But one question that has been raised in this rather bizarre incident is, when it comes to ecotourism, has the government given the right support? “If you’re promoting a certain thing, at least provide the right facilities,” says Hau. “What about building wider roads for coaches to come in? What about more involvement by the District Office to coordinate the ecotours to our village?”