Editor's note:

The unofficial "Occupy Central" referendum has been the hottest topic in Hong Kong recently, but one group of residents, mainland students studying there, has been largely silent. Global Times reporter Liu Sha interviewed them on their opinions over the region's increasingly contentious relationship with the mainland.

Students read books and newspaper on the campus of Chinese University of Hong Kong. Photo: IC

As a group of young students shouted pro-democracy slogans at a playground in Hong Kong University (HKU), Yin Juan, 21, a Chinese mainland student and studying in Hong Kong, passed by, feeling distanced.

Out of curiosity, she looked back and happened to see one of her friends in the group, Lily Lee, a local Hongkonger, holding a banner saying: no top-down control and give back freedom to Hong Kong.

"Sometimes I feel they are too sensitive. Hong Kong is already a very free place for me," Yin said.

When she first came to Hong Kong as a total stranger, Lily introduced her where to shop and to enjoy authentic cuisine and guided her the way onto the Peak to catch the sunrise. She felt lucky to have a native friend.

But ever since the students groups started to work on asking for "true universal suffrage," Yin began to feel  different.

The Basic Law states clearly that Hong Kong chief executive should be chosen by universal suffrage as an eventual goal. In 2007, the 10-year anniversary of the handover, China's top legislature said in 2017, Hong Kong's chief executive would be elected through universal suffrage and, last year, the legislature spokesperson gave the same assurance.

However, a large proportion of Hongkongers are unhappy with the situation, saying they want an "authentic" election with public nomination, which is not in line with the method of having a nominating committee stated in the Basic Law, under which Beijing will be able to oversee who stands as a candidate.

After "Occupy Central," a non-violent occupation protest, was announced in early 2013, more students gathered and formed groups supporting the movement in the name of protesting for free election.

An unofficial referendum on the election method opened on June 20 and so far has attracted over 740,000 votes, although critics claim that many votes were faked or repeated.

The city is experiencing a time where normal residents care about politics more than ever and young people, especially college students, are being politicized. Surveys by the Public Opinion Center at the University of Hong Kong show that the sense of "Chinese" identity has fallen to a 14-year low, and that most people predominantly identify as "Hongkongers" rather than "Chinese."

Some student activists I talked to feel they are about to succeed.

"Though we're clear the results have no legal effect, we trust public opinion will be valued," a 20-year-old local college student told me. He outlined a logical case for public nomination as a democratic necessity.

Compared to Tai Yiu-tin and his partners, who first brought up the Occupy Central idea and said it is acceptable to not have public nomination, students say "It is a must to have public nomination."

"It seems like they have to break something to make democracy, or they have to oppose anything the government say," An Zhenglian, a postgraduate mainland student in Hong Kong Baptist University, said.

"That's not what I see as democracy," An said.

He described his experience of "being surrounded by radical students."

One time he was invited to a debate about what electoral method is suitable for Hong Kong. The debate, organized mainly by local students, was more like a "malicious insult" to the current Hong Kong government and central government's policies in the region, and the "One Country, Two System." 

One person disagreed but soon he was labeled as not caring for Hong Kong or democracy. "It was overwhelming."

Not all pro-democracy students are as irrational, Choy Chi-keung, a professor at Chinese University of Hong Kong said. "They could not represent Hong Kong's mainstream voice," he said, adding that they have a louder voice and thus, an invisible wall has been built between mainland students and locals.

In the eyes of those activists, their Chinese mainland classmates are not interested in participating protests or sit-ins, either because they do not care for Hong Kong as they do, or they fear to get into trouble.

"Some of them just want to get a degree and go back to the Chinese mainland," Chow Yong-kang, a key student activist in HKU said.

"It is not like that I'm not a fan of democracy or not caring for Hong Kong, but sometimes I feel I have no grounds to join them, and I will not be welcomed," Yin argued.

On a gathering day, Yin and her friends talked what they should do after graduation while Hong Kong students were discussing the referendum. Even this discussion became very radical.

Yin heard them saying: "Your government is corrupt."

"I know the criticism is not personal, but somehow I feel the whole pro-democracy thing is not only for democracy. They're trying to clearly divide Hong Kong people and people in the Chinese mainland and their governments," she said.

"Sometimes we even feel that they are mixing the pro-democracy campaigns with the emotions against our government and people from the Chinese mainland," Yin's friend, a student from Beijing in Hong Kong Polytechnic University, said.

It reminded me what I felt when studying in Hong Kong myself.

Three years ago, when local people and media began strongly protesting about pregnant women from the Chinese mainland, accusing them of grabbing Hong Kong's medical resources and their babies diluting of local young people's opportunities students from the mainland felt similar awkwardness.

On Facebook and other social networking sites, and even some media,  mainland people were labeled as "locusts." At that time some Chinese mainland students hit back by saying "we're not monsters."

Currently, as Hong Kong is experiencing the referendum, protests and campaigns, local students feel confused about whether to stay detached or attached.

More than a dozen mainland students told the Global Times reporter  that they would act only as observers during this "transitional period."

They also admit that it is a little awkward to bring up this topic between them and their local friends. "Talking about politics will only distance us."

At the end of the night gathering, Yin stood up while Lily and her friends entered in a heated discussion about the planned July 1 protest.

Yin interrupted them with Putonghua, saying she has to leave. They said goodbye to each other and Lily and her friends' conversation continued in Cantonese, a language Yin can't understand.