SoHo’s Historic Yu Lan Festival is Reborn. Will It Last?

Editor’s note: In 2025, the 30 Houses Yu Lan Festival takes place on September 15. 

As early as 2011, the Hong Kong Chiu Chow community’s Yu Lan Ghost Festival was already inscribed onto the third national list of intangible cultural heritage. Three years later, many of the city’s Yu Lan festivals were included in the first Intangible Cultural Heritage Inventory compiled by the Hong Kong government. Among them is the 30 Houses Yu Lan Festival that has taken place in Central since the early 20th century. But official recognition has not guaranteed smooth sailing for this remarkable celebration. 

Just the opposite: the past few years have been an emotional rollercoaster ride for the festival. The Wing Lee Street redevelopment scheme by the Urban Renewal Authority — officially known as H19 — almost sealed its fate in 2017, before community efforts stopped the project and allowed the festival to celebrate its comeback in 2018. But its success was transitory: the Covid-19 pandemic hit less than two years later. 

To comply with Covid restrictions, the association that runs the festival had to drastically simplify its format for four years between 2020 and 2023. Other Yu Lan festivals were forced to deal with the same circumstances. The Chiu Chow Kung Wo Tong Yu Lan Festival in Causeway Bay, which dates back to 1897 and is considered the oldest Yu Lan festival in Hong Kong, has now been diminished to a private ritual. The 30 Houses Yu Lan Festival almost met the same fate, not only because of health restrictions but because some of its most devoted supporters — local kaifong (neighbourhood residents) as well as festival association committee members — passed away or were dealing with deteriorating health. Although the festival could have gone back to normal last year, it was unable to do so. 

As a cultural conservationist and the general manager of Tetra Neon Exchange, I have dedicated myself to saving or supporting Hong Kong neon and various lesser-known cultural heritage subjects from 2017 onwards. In 2018, I was inspired by two local figures, George Wan and Katty Law, to contribute to the 30 Houses Yu Lan Festival. Wan is the co-founder of Hide and Seek Tour and he has been documenting the festival since 2014; last year he was invited by the festival association to become the first committee member who is not from the neighbourhood. Law is the convenor of the Central and Western Concern Group, and she has worked tirelessly with her group members to stop the redevelopment of key areas in the neighbourhood, including the former Police Married Quarters (now PMQ) and Wing Lee Street. In 2014, Law wrote a master’s thesis on the 30 House Yu Lan Festival while completing a degree in history.

Wan leads guided tours in which he shares his knowledge of the festival, and in 2018, after joining one of these tours, I wrote for Zolima CityMag one of the first English articles about the festival, hoping that would help provide English-speaking audiences another source for related information and in general, change how people appreciate the festival. Law, Wan and I worked with other volunteers to create the first-ever bilingual leaflet to educate the public about the 30 Houses Yu Lan Festival. In the article, I explained how the festival is a hybrid of Buddhist, Taoist and folkloric rituals that starts with the raising of six flagpoles and lanterns at different points around the neighbourhood, creating a perimeter for wandering souls — hungry ghosts — to enjoy the festivities. That is followed by a march by Taoist priests and musicians, a vast banquet for the ghosts, and the ritual beating of the King of Ghosts, who is represented by a large paper effigy that is set aflame in the festival’s climax.

Keeping any tradition alive is a mammoth task. Though the 30 Houses Yu Lan Festival only lasts for one day each year, its preparation takes months. Many of the association committee members have been quietly doing the work for decades, if not for much of their lives. The chairman of the festival association, Wong Kun-oi, is approaching 75 and the health issues that come with age are getting increasingly hard for him to ignore. “For the past two years I have not been as energetic as before and at my worst, I had to walk with a cane,” he tells me. 

In an ageing community, it takes significant effort to store and erect the 14 flagpoles that mark the 30 Houses perimeter, carrying wishes for peace and prosperity in the neighbourhood. But it’s very difficult to find new blood – younger people who are ready for the collective efforts and commitment required to maintain the festival, people who are steadfast, reliable, resourceful, willing and able to carve out time and deal with whatever may or may not arise. 

There’s also the matter of funding. This single-day festival comes with a hefty price tag of roughly HK$200,000, according to Wong’s estimates. But fundraising in the neighbourhood has become a disheartening chore for the association. Soho was once a close-knit community in which kaifong tended to look out for each other for survival. But the past three decades of change and gentrification — including language and cultural barriers as Soho has become an enclave of expats — have eroded that old way of life.  

I decided to join the association on their fundraising rounds this year. The number of the local businesses they still have connections with has dwindled, and so has the amount they could raise. The younger generation inheriting the businesses don’t have the same appreciation of the festival – and the economic downturn did not make things any easier. “The community spirit is not the same and we could now only collect less than one tenth of what we used to be able to raise,” says Wong with a sigh. A heavy sense of disappointment fills the air as he contemplates the new reality of his neighbourhood.

Fundraising isn’t the only challenge posed by the lack of awareness and understanding amongst newcomers to Soho. Over the years, nearby residents have complained about the intermittent noise, smoke and fire produced on the festival day. Even the pared-down version of the festival in 2021 seemed to be an issue. Wong was burning paper offerings in a joss-paper burner when the sound of emergency sirens filled the neighbourhood. Fire trucks and police vehicles rushed to the scene; somebody seems to have called 999 about the joss-burning ritual. After quickly evaluating the scene, the emergency crews departed. But incidents like these stay on the record: they might even impact the next time the festival applies for permission to be held.

“This Yu Lan Festival is something bittersweet for me,” says Wong. He took over its planning in 1996, when he officially created the association and set up the current clubhouse on Staunton Street, which has been a centre for kaifong to gather, even after many have moved out of the neighbourhood. Working with the full trust of the kaifong, Wong grew the festival into the version that we love today. Mulling over his cultural baby, Wong tenses up. “Thinking about how it might get tanked by others, I would rather end it with my own two hands – though it immensely saddens me to let it go myself.” 

But Wong is not alone. Katty Law says it is “important to keep [the festival] going if this neighbourhood wants to retain its unique tradition.” George Wan notes that this is the only remaining Yu Lan festival in Central. “The name and perimeter of 30 Houses live on through it,” he says.  

The festival carries local history and social significance, but I think we should also turn the spotlight on how it promotes some universal values, like compassion and benevolence. More importantly, due to its unique and strategic location, where Hong Kong traditions meet the globalised influences of an international city, the 30 Houses Yu Lan Festival could be a model for how local traditions could adapt to changing demographics by including and reaching out to its cosmopolitan neighbours for their support. 

The announcement last year that the festival would cease to exist in its current form provoked an outcry for neighbourhood residents as well as cultural advocates like myself, Law and Wan. Thankfully, in light of this support, Wong has revoked his original decision and tried to resume the pre-Covid version of the festival this year. Led by Wong, along with Wan and his partners, preparation work started even earlier than usual. Social media posts have been created to keep followers abreast of the developments and generate buzz as well as media interest. Another edition of the bilingual leaflets was also printed, along with some merchandise for fundraising purposes. 

Law held a guided tour of the 30 Houses for members of the Hong Kong Institute of Architectural Conservationists, highlighting the importance of the Yu Lan festival and encouraging participants to have a dialogue with Wong. Leaflets and posters were placed around the neighbourhood. I reached out to participants of some English-language tours I organised in 2018 and 2019, and some of them expressed interest in becoming volunteers for the Yu Lan festival. One of them, Esme Anderson — a great enthusiast of local cultural heritage — mobilised the people in her own personal network to reach out to English-speaking business owners in Soho. Longtime supporters of the festival have also rallied to the cause. The last Chiu Chow paper effigy master in Hong Kong, 63-year-old Yung Chan-wan, continues to supply the paper effigies used by the 30 Houses festival even as he nears retirement. 

This collective effort relies on individual commitment. Take the case of Chan Lai-kwan, 53, better known as Big Sister Lai. She used to live above the association clubhouse when her twins were still infants. She looked after the clubhouse and eventually moved onto picking up preparation work for the festival, before finally becoming one of the core association committee members. Her ability to mobilise her group of female followers to become an indispensable force impresses Mr. Wong. ‘I am deeply invested in it!’, she answers with conviction when asked why she is still committed to it after all these years. 

To many of us, this festival is cultural heritage. But to the kaifong that have organised it for so many years, it is their life and identity. They have grown up and grown old with this tradition. Heritage buildings are not a rare sight in Central, but only with history, traditions, stories and relationships do they actually become alive. Adding colours to the cultural fabric, the intangible aspects hold people together and enrich our community. 

Though it is being revived this year and hope is on the horizon, the 30 Houses Yu Lan Festival is not out of the woods yet. The ecosystem that supports it is fragile. Over the years, the festival has gained meaning and importance, and together we can add another layer of significance to encourage mutual understanding between different people, restoring a sense of community that benefits everyone.

The 2024 edition of the 30 Houses Yu Lan Festival took place in SoHo on August 27, not on the 29th. We would like to apologise for the mistake in the date.