Tsui Tak-tai
At 19, Tsui Tak-tai married and moved from Shek Pik Tai Tsuen to Shui
Hau Village. Her husband passed away young, leaving her to raise their
three children on her own. Tsui loves singing rhymes as a way to express
her feelings and reminisce about her life experiences. She is skilled in
many things: farming, clam-digging, oyster catching and fishing. She also
helped build the catchwater for Shek Pik Reservoir. Villagers admire her
resilience and optimistic nature.
A one-legged hwamei can hardly fly over a high mountain.
A person with only one hand struggles to make ends meet.
It takes hard work with both hands to earn a living,
And steady shoulders to keep moving forward.
When the stomach is empty, the mind is in turmoil.
How to find the leisure to weave fine linen?
－ A Wai Tau dialect folk song of Shui Hau Village
A person with only one hand struggles to make ends meet.
It takes hard work with both hands to earn a living,
And steady shoulders to keep moving forward.
When the stomach is empty, the mind is in turmoil.
How to find the leisure to weave fine linen?
－ A Wai Tau dialect folk song of Shui Hau Village
I was born in Shek Pik Tai Tsuen. I’ve been living in Shui Hau Village since I got married at 19.
My husband Chi Kwan-fat was a year younger than me. His original surname was Chan, but he
was later adopted into the Chi family. Our marriage was arranged by our families even before
we were born. Before we got married, I once saw him from a distance. He wasn’t tall but was
very handsome. We tied the knot on 22 October 1945, shortly after the war ended. That day I
wore a red gown and was carried on a bridal sedan chair. Many people came to celebrate with us.
Two years after we got married, my mother-in-law passed away. My father-in-law was overbearing. He would often shout at me, making me cry. Maybe it was because my husband wasn’t his biological child. My husband would tell me: “He’s getting old. Just put up with him. Let him be.”
My husband worked too much. When I was 29, he died from tuberculosis, leaving me with three children — our eldest son, eldest daughter, and a daughter who was born after his death. I was devastated, but there was nothing I could do. A married woman can’t return to her parents’ home. Some families suggested I remarry with someone from San Shek Wan or Shap Long. But if I did that, my children would be treated worse than dogs. Why would I do such a stupid thing? My husband owned quite a bit of farmland — several dau in total. It was enough to plant about a dozen catty of grain seeds.1 So I worked through the hardship bit by bit.
“Meals are never guaranteed, like a boat that never docks in the same bay.” Every morning when the sun rose at 6am, I’d get up and cook a pot of rice. By 7am, I’d have eaten and head out to the fields. At noon, I’d come back home for lunch. It was cold rice with brown sugar. My children ate the same. Sometimes we added shrimp paste and salted shrimp. Either I bought them or I made them. Then it was back to the fields. When the sun set, I’d cook dinner. There was no free time as I had to farm and fish. Life was so tough my hands became all wrinkly.
Two years after we got married, my mother-in-law passed away. My father-in-law was overbearing. He would often shout at me, making me cry. Maybe it was because my husband wasn’t his biological child. My husband would tell me: “He’s getting old. Just put up with him. Let him be.”
My husband worked too much. When I was 29, he died from tuberculosis, leaving me with three children — our eldest son, eldest daughter, and a daughter who was born after his death. I was devastated, but there was nothing I could do. A married woman can’t return to her parents’ home. Some families suggested I remarry with someone from San Shek Wan or Shap Long. But if I did that, my children would be treated worse than dogs. Why would I do such a stupid thing? My husband owned quite a bit of farmland — several dau in total. It was enough to plant about a dozen catty of grain seeds.1 So I worked through the hardship bit by bit.
“Meals are never guaranteed, like a boat that never docks in the same bay.” Every morning when the sun rose at 6am, I’d get up and cook a pot of rice. By 7am, I’d have eaten and head out to the fields. At noon, I’d come back home for lunch. It was cold rice with brown sugar. My children ate the same. Sometimes we added shrimp paste and salted shrimp. Either I bought them or I made them. Then it was back to the fields. When the sun set, I’d cook dinner. There was no free time as I had to farm and fish. Life was so tough my hands became all wrinkly.
耕田就有米飯食啊！有時想換錢買餸買工具，我就搖櫓去長洲賣穀，一擔穀賣到20至30蚊3。我又會養雞餵豬、打蠔仔、打池口4、捉狗爪螺，唔怕無餸食！我養嘅雞好快大。每朝倒啲雞料畀雞仔，佢哋一日食到黑，三個月頭就幾斤重。我以前有隻艇，會揸去釣魚。因為每日水流都唔同，一個月只得幾日可以出海。我最叻釣池口，我將鱭魚切成一粒一粒做餌，扔落石窿撩兩撩，一日最多釣到十斤。要曬鹹魚就攞石狗公、石䱛、石斑仔。打蠔仔我都好熟手。蠔殼黐住啲大石，我用蠔琢5鑿開佢，擘開，然後鏟出嚟。多年來我買吓買吓，儲起十幾把蠔琢。有首山歌仔唱：「打蠔阿妹面向西，不如嫁拗魚弟」，咸濕歌嚟嘻！ 農曆初一、十五前後日子，日頭水退，我朝早四五點就出去水口灣掘翅口6。嗰時我好好眼力，好容易就搵到「翅口眼」7，嗰個位嘅沙比較腍。翅口鐮插落沙，撞到翅口發出「咯咯聲」，然後用鐮鉤撩上嚟。有咩技巧？要睇得清楚，手又要密密篤。翅口鐮係我睇住其他人學，再自己整。我落去水口灣會帶兩個竹籮，掘到翅口就放入籮，最後用翅口鐮掛住「前一籮、後一籮」，擔住兩籮翅口返屋，加薑蔥一齊煮，有時煮瓜或曬乾存放。我自己唔太鐘意食翅口，畀仔女食多。翅口也會拎去鳳凰士多，賣15蚊斤。2018年我92歲，仍會去掘翅口。嗰時有遊客問我點搵翅口，我就指個翅口眼叫佢掘，掘到幾大隻出嚟！𠵱家太多人嚟掘蜆，踩爛晒沙地，睇唔到翅口眼，惟有「盲理篤」，求其嚟囉！
1960年政府建石壁水塘時搵水口村民做泥工。我參與造水渠路8Back in 1960, when the government was building Shek Pik Reservoir, they hired people from
Shui Hau Village to work as labourers. I helped build the catchwater road,5 which stretched all
the way to Cheung Sha. At first, I was making $3.5 a day, but later it went up to $20 or even $30.
In three years, I managed to save $12,000. That was enough to marry a wife [like most men did
back then]!
Construction work paid better. So I stopped working in the fields. But the downside was I
couldn’t get fresh groceries. Tai O was a three-hour walk away, so a round trip took six hours.
That just wasn’t doable. So I ended up eating salted eggs, Chinese sausages and fermented tofu
every day. By then, all my kids were working in the city. Life was tough. It’s not something you
can explain to others. I worked as a labourer for less than 10 years and retired at 55.
阿孫1981年出世，我搬到青衣嘅大仔屋企湊佢，兩年後又返水口住，同阿底（池娣<）9繼續釣魚、掘翅口、種瓜種菜，一直到80幾歲。 我最鐘意食蘿蔔！我記性好好㗎，𠵱家90幾歲仍然記得以前嘅事。外孫阿昌（黃維昌）又曾經幫我影好多相，影我整茶粿，有雞屎藤、艾草同苧麻葉三款味道。 咁多年來我一直掛住先生，佢喺九龍山醫院10過身嘅，嗰度太遠啦，我見唔到佢最後一面。之但係掛住又有咩用呢？女人係穀種命，嫁到去邊就喺邊度生根囉。
Photos for this article were taken by Wong Wai-cheong during his studies at the School of Design, The Hong Kong Polytechnic University, from 2009 to 2012.