Review: Loong Tsz Wai, Huang Shan, Jess Tan, Cassie Fei, Representing Mui Wo: Exploring Rural Regeneration Beyond Urban-Rural Dichotomy Through the History of Hong Kong’s Island Agricultural Communities (Hong Kong: Typesetter, 2024)
文：Eric Siu-kei Cheng (Associate Professor, Department of Cultural Resources and Leisure Industries,National Taitung University, Taiwan)
DOI: https://doi.org/10.70783/notebook/bdlx1628
“There used to be so many pineapples grown in Mui Wo! They were an essential local crop.”
Fifteen years ago, the manager of the Federation of Vegetable Marketing Co-operative Societies shared this with me. At the time, I was just beginning my research into Hong Kong’s agricultural history, knowing only the basics of the New Territories’ agricultural past. Thankfully, through conversations with farmers and individuals across the supply chain, I gradually pieced together a narrative of agriculture that I had not experienced firsthand and that lacked substantial written records. Over the past two decades, as agricultural communities in Hong Kong gained traction as a research topic, our generation of young researchers and community participants have used opportunities and resources such as oral histories, illustrated books, and academic publications to create a fuller picture of agriculture in the New Territories.
However, our understanding of agriculture on the outlying islands remains limited. Both the authors of this book and I share the same belief: agriculture on these islands has not vanished—it is simply overlooked. We may take ferries to Mui Wo or Tai O for a day trip or camp on Cheung Chau. Along the way, we see lush green fields and, in Pui O, water buffaloes—a testament to ongoing agricultural activity. Even at the edge of Tung Chung’s urbanised new town, fields still remain. As you ride the bus deeper into Lantau Island and read this book, Hong Kong readers may be reminded of past walks through rural paths, while non-local readers might discover a side of Hong Kong that defies their expectations.
The title “Representing” is a reminder, through words, that despite shrinking land, agriculture on the islands remains vibrant. The book also puts forward a crucial argument: Mui Wo, historically a transport hub on Lantau Island, has always been a community open to newcomers due to its location and social structure. From post-World War II to the present, it has accommodated migrants—from those seeking a livelihood to those seeking diverse lifestyles—allowing them to find their roles in the community. This inclusiveness has enriched the agricultural landscape of the outlying islands, drawing attention from consumers and social practitioners alike. Due to its unique position as a transit hub and its openness to those seeking opportunities, Mui Wo has recently become a place where people use agriculture as a foundation for education and organic farming as a means of sustainable living. From a “local perspective,” this book makes significant contributions to discussions on Hong Kong agriculture, placemaking, and lifestyle imagination—not just at the village level but in ways that can inspire global scholars and community practitioners.
This collectively authored book includes long-time community activists, scholars, and residents who have sought new ways of living in Mui Wo. Over the years, the authors have built deep social and personal connections with the community. Their interactions with local residents—from casual conversations to in-depth interviews—have allowed them to assemble first-hand accounts of Mui Wo’s past and present. The fourth chapter, “Stories of Agricultural Practitioners in Mui Wo,” vividly portrays how locals have engaged with agriculture—from organising cooperatives and selling produce across the sea to preserving orchards and practising sustainable living. Through life stories, combined with academic analysis, the authors guide readers from personal narratives to broader social contexts, proving that Mui Wo and Lantau Island are not isolated edges of Hong Kong’s development. Instead, they are dynamic hubs, continually adapting to agricultural and social transformations. The authors themselves are participants, documentarians, and storytellers of this “hubbing” process, bringing Mui Wo into the reader’s field of vision and representing it as an active agricultural community rather than a fading one.
Another aim of this book is to challenge the “urban-rural divide.” Mui Wo serves as a land-water “interface” between Hong Kong’s urban centres and Lantau Island, often perceived as the rural extreme of a city-rural spectrum. Once a significant producer of crops like ginger and pineapples, it was also a vital node in the distribution of farm produce between the islands and the city. As agriculture has declined, Mui Wo has become an ideal destination for “new residents” from the city seeking a simpler, more natural, and cost-effective lifestyle. It is also a base for activists practising community-supported agriculture. As noted in the book’s first three chapters, the authors aim to show that Mui Wo is not merely a holiday destination but a place worth deeper understanding and engagement.
This brings us back to the central question: how do the planned developments of outlying islands, changes in agricultural systems, and rural placemaking intertwine? In the face of development and conservation, where does Hong Kong go from here? Globally, including in Hong Kong, governments typically lead local developments, leaving residents without governing power to seemingly accept a “planned” fate. However, as illustrated in chapters five and six, Mui Wo’s recent success in placemaking offers a possibility for planning driven by local perspectives, starting with agriculture. The vitality of Mui Wo comes from its diverse newcomers and its welcoming local residents. For years, the government has played a passive role as a provider of basic infrastructure, which has allowed this rural community to thrive with a sense of humanity. Now, under aggressive government planning, Lantau Island is seen as “Hong Kong’s last developable land,” with urbanised land replacing people and community. The book introduces the concept of “relational population,” a vital idea in contemporary placemaking. Sustainable development requires not only an increase in residents but also people who maintain a strong connection, affinity, and sense of belonging to a place. Mui Wo and Lantau Island’s relational population includes those who yearn for rural life, are passionate about agriculture, and value community relationships. If Hong Kong becomes entirely urbanised, people will lose their connections to places, resulting in a sense of rootlessness. If life is always “planned,” how can people’s destinies be closely tied to the land and sea?
Reading Representing Mui Wo not only fills a missing piece in the puzzle of Hong Kong’s history for researchers like myself but also helps readers rediscover this seemingly familiar yet misunderstood community. It documents one of Hong Kong’s rare examples of successful placemaking. More importantly, it offers new perspectives on Hong Kong studies and community practices: the stories of life, livelihoods, and lifestyles between the urban and the rural are often fluid and diverse. Recognising their value may be more reasonable and humane than sacrificing them for development, enabling Hong Kong to transition from “being planned” to “planning together.” Listening to community voices in placemaking is the key to reimagining Hong Kong’s value—a feasible and ongoing “hubbing” process.
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The Good Old Soil research team combines local knowledge with historical investigation to uncover a side of Mui Wo beyond its image as a “tourist hotspot” or “remote island.” They reveal Mui Wo as a vibrant “agricultural hub” from the 1950s to 1980s, and as a “diverse island community” that emerged in the 2000s through unique circumstances.
The book provides detailed depictions of how rice, vegetables, and fruit cultivation shaped the agricultural and rural cultural landscape of the island, alongside practical insights into Good Old Soil’s efforts to engage with community networks and build connections. It offers both meticulous “archaeological” reconstructions of the past and forward-looking reflections on the present.
In today’s context, where development and conservation often compete, the research team examines the past and present of Mui Wo’s agricultural landscape to challenge the rigid divide between “natural” and “human-made” conservation. They propose a new direction for rural community building.