Chinatown Revisited
Every big city has its “Chinatown”, with its enclave of ethnic Chinese, streets lined with sundry shops, crafts, and the usual offings of stereo-typical Chinese food which tastes anything but…to the discerning.
Singapore, with its predominantly Chinese population has a Chinatown, no less. It is better known as Nu Che Shui, named after the bullock carts that carry water to the residents that lived here. Kreta Ayer, a nearby precinct, means the same thing in Malay.
When I was little, my parents would take me to Chinatown for their favorite meal of porridge with spare parts and raw fish, local style, with sesame oil, lime, chopped onions and chilli. I can still recall walking through the wet market and chancing upon frogs, turtles and other livestock being skinned and slaughtered. I also remember there were many old people milling around.
Decades later, Chinatown will be the sad result of too much tweaking in the name of tourist attraction, leaving behind a tacky trail of souvenir shops, modern restaurants, and a host of other forgettable outlets besides. Thankfully, there is still a small vestige of the original character left untampered, and the old people remained very much in the foreground.
In the late 19 C, Sago Lane was known as Sei Yan Gai or ” street of the dead” because this was the place where people will be left here to die. Conveniently, funeral parlours were located in the shophouses that used to be here. Paraphernalia related to Chinese death rites can also be found here in those days – things like funereal clothing, paper models of houses, cars, status items, and incense paper for burning. Now, the Chinatown Complex stands over the site of the demolished shophouses.
There is another road now known as Trengganu Street which used to be called Yap Pun Kai or Japanese Street. Japanese prostitutes would ply their trade here to lend financial support to their country’s military campaigns.
As I snapped the faces of the mostly elderly, I wondered what kind of experiences etch the lines on their faces. Will it be sad, happy, regretful, bitter? They have lived almost a lifetime. What will they leave behind or are they simply left behind by a generation who cannot or will not embrace them?
One afternoon, several faces, unanswered questions. I will return to the Chinatown of my childhood, my growing up years and now in my more sobering moments…to see and unveil, to ask the right questions…and perhaps one day, I will finally get to hear their life stories.
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