A group of teachers met for a theatre show recently at the Fringe Club. A few looked a little frazzled, one, fanning herself, admitted she’d forced herself out of her apartment that night. Her friends cheered, one hurried to buy her a vodka tonic. All were intent on having fun. For that evening anyway.

The group holds monthly activities – a diversion from intense school system meetings that inevitably end in tears of frustration and misery. Because, no matter what promises are made about improving conditions, increasing resources and lessening workloads, Hong Kong classrooms are tough, sickening places to work. This January, two teachers committed suicide and 10,000 took to the streets to protest, with no apparent results. That is until Ho Ying Fung met Winnie Yu.

When Yu, a Hong Kong teacher of 30 years, could finally take no more, she quit her secondary school position and fled to Australia where she eventually gained a PhD on the Hong Kong Teachers Association. It was there that Ho Ying Fung, the short, bespectacled director and founder of Theatre Fanatico, met and interviewed her at length about her experiences. Those interviews led to Theatre Fanatico’s Xposed/Still Burning, a piece that reveals Hong Kong education as a thoroughly stifling system.

Fans of the theatre group will be unsurprised by the offbeat subject matter, so different from the razzle-dazzle musicals usually associated with a Hong Kong theatre outing. Over the 10 years that Theatre Fanatico has been in existence, it’s tackled subjects as diverse as Hung Hom street tales and Chinese family sagas: Fanatico questions, provokes and sometimes disturbs. But performer Kearen Pang notes audiences are swelling – becoming almost cult-like in their devotion.

Ho, is pleased, though not about the growing popularity, he claims the last thing he was seeking was acceptance. “I don’t want to be institutionalised – I want to stay on the edge,” he says, unconcerned about how many tickets sell. He is happy because more people means more communication. “I don’t need people to understand me, I need them to start thinking,” he says.

His own school day memories are foggy, possibly because he didn’t actually spend much time in class. “I ran away a lot from school. I went to the cinema, I tried to find these life stories,” he says. He was questioning, he thinks, but not finding the answers in teachers or classrooms. Instead he took to the streets, backing up his cinema education by becoming an avid people watcher.

In the play, a teachers’ committee meets but without a leader, finds only confusion. They persist, discussing ‘student needs’, without once addressing the students. Ho thinks it ludicrous that the situation hasn’t changed since he was at school. “Teachers meet to discuss whether students should tuck in their shirts,” he says. In his work as an arts facilitator, Ho is in regular contact with young people. He says the kids bring up topics treated as classroom taboos - bullied youngsters, pupils feeling misunderstood or those suffering with sex or love life problems which often reveal their insecurities. When Ho approaches principals or school counsellors, he is told they don’t have the resources to deal with such issues.

Today he sits on the floor, resting back on his hands, relaxed as he talks with a group of creative arts undergrads that will critique Xposed/Still Burning. He dresses as they do, slightly disheveled in loose t-shirts and jeans, and encourages every student in the large circle to ask at least one question. He listens and then answers in detail, sometimes adding a joke or two. The atmosphere is jovial. Questions are important to Ho, who believes Hong Kong’s people don’t ask enough. “We are task-orientated,” he states. “I just went to visit a nine-year-old in elementary school, no-one asked him if he understood. We are conditioned: when the teacher comes in – open the book, pick up a pencil, and copy.” Fanatico asks and answers too – Xposed/Still Burning is to do with exposure, but instead of providing one staple solution, the show expects audiences to form their own opinions.

Ho also questions himself. He might have been producing works for the last 10 years but he evaluates each production as if it will be his last. Somehow, he always continues – fans might not forgive him a sudden departure, and besides, this man, who oozes life and energy, finds himself constantly inspired by Hong Kong’s conundrums. Despite its problems, he couldn’t work without this city.