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On occasion, it is a crafty way to twist someone’s arm to get what you want. For example, when you ask someone to give you face and help you out, it actually means, “whether you like it or not, do it anyway”.

But of late, the concept of “giving face” to someone has morphed into something else more literal.

Because of the unrelenting coronavirus pandemic, donning a face mask is in fact “giving face” to others as well as “earning face” for yourself.

To Hongkongers, wearing a face mask is considered to be a noble act in these difficult times. It is not just about protecting oneself from possible infection of the deadly virus – it is about protecting others from catching anything from you.

Some people can be unwitting carriers of the virus and remain asymptomatic, so it is still vital for everyone to wear face masks, whether they think they are infected or not.

The accoutring of face masks has become a Hong Kong trademark since the severe acute respiratory syndrome (Sars) epidemic in 2003. Even since Sars blew over, Hongkongers have made it a habit to wear a mask when they feel unwell. It’s a show of courtesy and caring attitude to others, and a form of community spirit.

If you are one of those sceptics who still believe face masks are ineffective in warding off the coronavirus, please think again before you dismiss their action.

The act of wearing a mask doesn’t just encompass the practicality of limiting the spread of the virus. It also shows respect and care to others. In trying times like these, such acts of consideration should not be taken at face value, so to speak.

The idea of giving, saving, and losing face is not only an important cultural concept but also a strong force that motivates and binds people together.

A Hongkonger’s unshakeable belief in the value of “face” also comes into play when giving compliments to one another, as local residents are noticeably unabashed when it comes to discussing other people’s weight.

To them, your body weight is open to comments and discussion – with or without your permission – at all times.

One of the most common greetings, especially towards women, is, “Hi, long time no see. You’ve put on weight.” Which actually translates as, “I haven’t seen you for a while and you’ve got fat.”

Greeting someone by sharing your observation about their body weight is supposed to be a compliment, because it shows you care about their health.

And, believe it or not, saying someone has gained weight is, sometimes, an indirect reference to indicate good health and great wealth.

But nowadays, because of the body image-conscious mindset of many women, people have learned to be slightly more diplomatic and instead will say, “Oh, you look fatter but also prettier.”

This is hopefully a more acceptable opening gambit, but is likely to come off as a backhanded compliment instead.

Another uniquely Hong Kong thing is the habit of queuing for just about anything and everything; I actually suspect it is a citywide pastime.

There was one morning in 1999 when I was in North Point after taking my daughter to school. I walked past an HSBC branch and saw a really long queue forming outside the bank.

Curious to know what it was all about, I asked one of the people in the queue what they were waiting for, and the answer was, “I don’t know. I just thought if so many people are queuing, it must be good”.

I then asked another person further up the queue and the answer was more or less the same. So, I decided to move up to the front of the queue and later found out they were queuing to buy shares from an internet company, which was launching its initial public offering that year.

Hong Kong people’s love of queuing for anything has become something of an insufferable addiction, which means they are incapable of seeing a line of people and not joining the back of it.

It may not be such a bad thing, even though they have no idea what they are lining up for. With nearly 8 million people crammed into such a small place, going about their daily routines in an orderly manner is essential to keeping social public order.

Seeing Hongkongers spending hours queuing for cartoon figurines, crisp new banknotes, commemorative stamps, school places, flat sales, or limited editions of whatever, you have to admire their patience and perseverance.

And then there’s the ingenious method of split-queuing, whereby you send your companion to line up in another queue, if there is a second line.

The strategy is a simple one and helps save time; it allows you to cast your net wide. If the second line is quicker, you can then swan in at the last moment to claim your deserved place. Voila!

Luisa Tam is a Post correspondent, who also hosts video tutorials on Cantonese language which is now part of Cathay Pacific’s in-flight entertainment programme

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