In Hong Kong, Getting Out Is Becoming Big Business

In this bastion of free enterprise and profit making, an industry is blossoming that cashes in on fear of the coming takeover by Communist China.

From marriage counselors to immigration consultants, thousands in this British colony are capitalizing on a growing desperation about 1997--when Hong Kong comes under China’s rule. Some appear to be profiting illegally.

Emigration industry specialists say hundreds of millions of dollars are being spent by nervous residents who want to flee the colony. And, they say, business is bound to improve.

The June 3-4 crackdown on the pro-democracy movement in Beijing has sparked more interest in emigration than ever before.

Last year, 45,000 people left Hong Kong, mostly for the United States, Canada and Australia. The number is expected to rise this year.

A survey in August said 2 out of every 5 residents want to emigrate, indicating that few among the colony’s 5.7 million people believe in China’s promise to maintain Hong Kong’s economic system for at least 50 years.

On a recent weekend at the Hong Kong Convention Center, about 50,000 people packed a show on overseas investment and immigration opportunities.

Australian women sporting bright blue 10-gallon hats hawked houses in Perth. Videos showed sandpipers speeding down a Uruguayan beach and told of the wonders of investing in that Latin American country. A movie beckoned, “Come to New Zealand and be free.”

One consultant’s Chinese sign promised a Peruvian passport for $1,500 and 20 days in Lima. The Peruvian Consulate said it was impossible.

Another consultant was selling $100,000 investments in the United States, although America does not accept business immigrants.

“There’s always a window,” said former chemist Junny Co, with a wry smile and a wink as he passed out leaflets with the investment information. “I’m selling the American dream.”

Surveying the crowd, Peter Tse, a real estate agent for an Australian company, heaved a sigh.

“There’s a sucker born every minute,” he said. “I’m just selling houses. But the consultants, they’re exploiting fear.”

Indeed, in the emigration industry consultants are the big money makers, charging as much as $50,000 for a successful case.

Consultants help prospective emigrants fill out forms, draw up business proposals and determine whether they have the necessary credentials to emigrate.

Since January, the ranks of Hong Kong-based consultants have swollen to 600, a 100% jump, according to Alex Lee, an advertising executive at Saleslink Ltd., which co-sponsored the convention. Hundreds more, including American lawyers, added to the flock when they set up temporary shop in hotel rooms around the colony.

At the conference, Jagson Cheu elbowed his way out of a booth run by a New Zealand investment company.

“They want all my money just to go to the bottom of the world--I can’t believe it,” said the securities trader. “But I don’t have a choice, I need help. Right now I’m just looking for the cheapest thief.”

Despite dozens of complaints of fraud to the Hong Kong Consumer Council, the government does not monitor the industry, and there is practically no way to sue a consultant.

Horatio Cheung, the only nonprofit consultant in the colony, tells of 290 people who were denied Canadian citizenship after being bilked out of thousands of dollars by a consultant who tried to get around Canada’s residency requirement.

Earlier this year, Royal Canadian Mounted Police raided a law firm in Toronto, and several Canadian lawyers have been charged with perjury and other crimes in connection with illegal immigration practices.

Those who can’t afford a consultant are going back to school to get necessary skills to emigrate. Some countries, like Australia, welcome certain workers, such as pastry chefs and carpenters. Singapore, which is facing a labor shortage, recently lowered its standards for immigrants, sparking 30,000 Hong Kong residents to mob the application office.

But competition for seats in Hong Kong’s few universities is intense. The Open Learning Institute, Hong Kong’s newest college-level facility, recently received 60,000 applications for 5,000 spots for the upcoming school year. The government-run school made about $380,000 from applications alone.

Fears about the takeover have also helped Hong Kong’s matchmaking industry.

Maria Mo, manager of the International Computer Marriage Consulting agency, says clients looking for a spouse with a foreign passport have increased by 50% since June 4. Her company now gets up to 200 inquiries a month and charges at least $1,000 for completed marriages.

R. Shek, who is looking for a Western husband, said the crackdown made her want to leave Hong Kong as soon as possible.

“Hong Kong life used to be peaceful,” said Shek, an executive secretary at an international firm, “but now it’s time to leave. I don’t have enough money to buy a passport, so marriage to a Westerner is the best route for me.”

But this sector, too, is tainted by suspect practices. One matchmaker showed letters from foreign men to his office, offering marriage for a “reasonable price,” or $35,000.

The immigration business has spawned its own service industry with TV and radio talk shows, newspapers and magazines.

The Emigrant magazine started last year and now boasts 14,000 subscribers and a thick advertisement section, pushing land in Jamaica, passports in Latin America and factories in South Africa.

“We have people in line at all hours buying back issues,” Editor Katherine Kreuter said. “This is definitely a growth industry.”

BACKGROUND

Britain has agreed to turn over Hong Kong to China in 1997. The colony, a bastion of free enterprise, fears communism. And those who can afford it are looking for a way out.