By Keith B. Richburg
Washington Post Foreign Service
Friday, April 10, 1998; Page N07

HONG KONG—During any given week, this former British possession might best be described as high-rise hell, a concrete conundrum of glass and steel and brick, with the territory's 7 million inhabitants toiling away in tiny cubicles mostly figuring out new ways to make money. And that, after all, is what drives workaholic Hong Kong -- money, or the pursuit of it -- here in the region's premier financial center.

But come the weekend -- ah, the glorious weekend -- and for two days, Hong Kongers descend from the office towers and hillside apartment blocks to enjoy the sparse few square feet set aside for leisure and to think of new ways to spend all that money. Hong Kong becomes a city transformed, a city in retreat from itself.

For much of Hong Kong's expatriate community, the weekend begins promptly at the close of business Friday. The youngish crowd of bankers and brokers and those ubiquitous "financial analysts" converge on a tiny L-shaped corner called Lan Kwai Fong, which is Hong Kong's answer to Georgetown on a Saturday night. The street, and a few parallel side roads and alleyways, is dotted with such bars as 1997, Oscar's and Yelt's Inn. The specialty at the Bit Point is thick German beer on tap; at Al's Diner, a replica of an old '50s-style American eatery, the drink specialty is the "jello shot" -- vodka mixed in a small container of hardened gelatin, swallowed in one gulp.

On Fridays, Lan Kwai Fong street -- blocked off to traffic for the weekly tradition -- becomes a large street party, a place to loosen the Hermes necktie, rendezvous with colleagues or simply observe the local trendy set, the young Hong Kongers dressed head-to-toe in black or young women with platform-soled boots high enough to qualify as stilts.

For the truly dedicated night-crawlers, the party of Lan Kwai Fong inevitably deteriorates to a stopover at the more downscale bar district of Wanchai, perhaps best known as the setting for the novel "The World of Suzie Wong." Suzie is now gone -- she went off to marry William Holden in the movie version -- but some of her contemporaries are still around, beckoning bleary-eyed expats inside. Some of the more notorious Wanchai discos, like Pussycat, Neptune and Strawberry, barely get going before midnight, and imported Filipino house bands turn out the same cover tunes week after week.

Hong Kong is home to about 140,000 Filipinos, almost all women, almost all employed as domestic housekeepers, or "amahs." For most, Sunday is their only day off -- meaning Saturday is the night for bar-crawling. On Sundays, they pack the local churches, then turn several blocks of downtown into a public plaza to sell cooked Filipino delicacies, trade the latest gossip and meet with friends.

Wanchai bars don't seem to close until dawn, just when the more hearty set is awakening for a day packed with sports activities, a rarity in Hong Kong during the working week. Public tennis courts here -- what few there are -- are jammed on weekends, and reservations at least 10 days in advance are a must. In fact, with all of Hong Kong reveling in the precious two days of weekend, advance reservations are necessary for almost anything, including movies (reserved by phone, including your assigned seat number) or a table for brunch at that perennial outdoor favorite, the Peak Cafe, with a view overlooking the picturesque southern side of Hong Kong island.

One of the most popular retreats for a Saturday or Sunday is lunch on one of what are known as the "outer islands." Lamma, the largest and best-known of the outer islands, has a string of open-air seafood restaurants along the waterfront street known as, of course, Main Street. There are no cars on Lamma, and the island's resident population is just a few thousand or so, giving it a laid-back, tropical feel even when the island becomes overrun by weekend visitors.

Lamma is accessible by a ferry boat, which leaves every two hours or so from a downtown pier. The other route is by private junk, the traditional name for a Chinese fishing boat, but that now means virtually every type of pleasure craft. Most major companies here have their own junks, and there are junks for hire on a daily basis. One need be in Hong Kong only a matter of hours before the invitations for a weekend junk trip start flowing. And most junk trips invariably go to Lamma for the seafood.

Another favorite weekend escape -- and that's what weekends are really about in Hong Kong, escape -- is to venture further away, to the neighboring territory of Macao. Macao is still run by Portugal, but is scheduled to return to mainland China next year. But unlike super-modern Hong Kong, Macao has managed to retain a sleepy, almost Mediterranean ambience, with its pastel buildings, Portuguese forts, old cathedrals and the cobblestone square in the center of town.

Macao is also the place for legalized casino gambling, where Hong Kong weekenders will throw down several thousand dollars a pop -- and try to avoid getting hassled by the notorious loan sharks who hover outside.

Then it's back to Hong Kong, back to another Monday morning, and another mad dash to make money.