Living in the public housing estate during the 1970s was like winning the lottery. The park downstairs had simple facilities, such as slides,roundabout and swings. I moved away from the estate in 1989. Now, I recall so many childhood memories.
Neighbors helped each other. When they went out, they would ask my mum to take care of their young children, and I helped babysit them too. My brother helped the elderly who are unfamiliar with English to do the translation and also tutored their children. On neighbors’ birthdays, we shared food. When someone got married, the entire community celebrated together. On weekends, the elderly played mahjong, and the young ones played games in the park—it was lively. At that time, my family didn’t have a television, so we would go to our neighbor’s house across the street to watch TV.
During hot summer nights, everyone would open their wooden doors and sleep on canvas beds or mats in front of the gates. Occasionally, there were robberies, and the estate organized patrol teams to ensure the safe return of latecomers home.
