On a breezy day, with the sea air fresh around him, Wong Kwai Lun sat in the pavilion at the entrance of Pak A Village. The retired villager wore his “Villager Ambassador” badge proudly, a nod to his role at the Sai Kung Hoi Arts Festival. As he surveyed the familiar landscape, a voice suddenly called out, “Brother Kwai Lun!” from across the bridge. To his astonishment, the Festival had brought him face-to-face with an old neighbour he hadn’t seen in over fifty years. It was like a scene ripped straight from a film. “It’s been over 50 years since we last met, and she still recognises me!” he marvelled, though he admitted he nearly didn’t recognise her. She had moved to the United States when she was just a young girl, and their paths hadn’t crossed since. The moment was poignant, marked by tears and laughter as they reminisced about their childhoods.

Wong Kwai Lun hails from Pak A Village, one of four small villages on High Island where life was shaped by the rhythms of the sea and the land. He shared tales of his youth in the Hakka community, where farming bound the villagers together. “We were self-sufficient, growing rice, sweet potatoes, peanuts, and vegetables, which were sold in Sai Kung. The village hummed with activity at dusk as farmers wound down their day and families gathered for dinner,” he recalled, a note of nostalgia in his voice. Farming and cooking were communal activities, and every child learned to contribute early on.

Unlike the Boat people, the Hakkas weren’t typically fishermen, but living so close to the water, Wong couldn’t help but be drawn to the sea. “I’ve been swimming and fishing since I was a child,” he said, his eyes lighting up at the memory. He spoke fondly of fishing trips with his father and the distinctive, clean taste of saltwater mullets—a simple steamed dish that brought back a flood of memories.

At its height, Pak A Village was a bustling community of over 400 people, but today only about ten remain. Despite moving to the city, Wong’s heart stayed tethered to the sea and the mountains of his home. “I often return to fish and stay for several nights. The connection to this place is part of who I am,” he explained. Every year, the Tin Hau Festival draws former villagers back from all corners of the globe for a day of reunion and storytelling. “This year’s Festival was especially memorable. It felt like everyone had a story to share,” Wong said with a smile.