Stepping out of my building on my first Sunday in Hong Kong over a year ago, I was greeted by a number of things; shouts from street vendors, the powerful spiced scent of frying meat, blazing sunshine. I had become accustomed to most of these sensations over the preceding days, but one thing was puzzling. Overnight, it seemed, an entirely new cast of characters had appeared in my cramped neighbourhood and were now encamped in the street. They took over benches, walkways and several sought-after patches of shade cast by the towering skyscrapers that make this city famous. These were not beggars, these were casually dressed, bright-eyed women. They sat upon ragtag pieces of cardboard or yoga mats, chatting amiably amongst themselves. They sheltered from the heat under motley umbrellas and napped idly in the afternoon sun, but where had they come from?

via istolethetv on Flickr

Sunday has long been established in many cultures as a day for rest, a day for worship and a day for family; Hong Kong is no different. Immense crowds flock to churches, trek the many hiking trails and crowd the beaches. Playgrounds and parks are particularly busy, as a young and vibrant population pushes their toddling youngsters to feel some grass beneath their feet; a rarity in this urban jungle.

Sundays also bring about a rarer and more unique phenomenon, however, and it can be startling to those who aren’t expecting it. These thousands of women that spill out into the streets each Sunday are not homeless, at least not permanently. They are Foreign Domestic Helpers, and for six days of week, they reside in the enormous skyscrapers in whose shadows they now shelter.