unkster: On The Temasek Trail

Having hung out at Kampong Glam more times in the last 3 months than I have ever had in my entire lifetime. And braving the maddening throngs at Little India over the past 2 Sundays. We thought Chinatown would be the next logical choice in our quest to capture S'pore on camera before everything is just glossed over in the name of conservation.

But alas, its a little too late to save our dear old Chinese enclave. Because unlike its Malay and Indian brethren, Chinatown has, ironically, become the victim of its own heritage and important place in history. As usual, in the push to preserve this special part of Singapore, the powers-that-be have succeeded in over-doing things to the point of turning the once characterful alleys of Temple, Pagoda and Smith Streets into paved walkways bordering on the kitsch.

The real Chinatown, to me however, lies 2 blocks away. At Telok Ayer. Once the landing site and focal point for all Chinese Immigrants who survived the harrowing sea-trip by rickety Junk from the Mainland. The streets of Telok Ayer, Amoy and Ann Siang are lined with places of worship where grateful seafarers and sailors thank their respective Gods for safe passage, with old Clan Associations where the clickety-clack of mahjong tiles still emanate from within and where the facades of the many 19th century buildings still retain their original flavour.

Stepping into Thian Hock Keng, is like going back in time when the pioneer Hokkiens first set foot on our shores and came into this temple to pay their respects to the Goddess of the Sea. Well if you can ignore the occasional bus loads of noisy tourists who make a quick 10 minute stop-over to gawk that is. None of them, however, pop over to the Al-Abrar Mosque just 40 paces away. Which is a good thing I suppose. Because it keeps the surrealistically turquoise Masjid locked back in time and quiet. The way it should be.