The disappearing of our hawker heritage

Posted on April 1, 2013 by gdy2shoez

From ‘Real chance of hawker heritage disappearing if young do not step up’, 1 April 2013, article by David Ee, ST

There is a real possibility that Singapore may one day lose its rich hawker heritage if the next generation of Singaporean hawkers do not replace our current veterans.

Minister for the Environment and Water Resources Vivian Balakrishnan acknowledged this at the inaugural Partners Forum on Monday which was attended by about 200 participants from schools, non-governmental organisations and businesses. Participants were invited at what is likely to be annual affair to talk about ways to build a sustainable and gracious Singapore.

“It’s easy to build (new hawker) centres,” he said. “But the key challenge is to find enough Singaporeans who’d be willing to enter this profession, which is a difficult, challenging one.”

The only sexy hawker in town

In a TNP commentary on a 22 year old female professional happily marrying a chicken rice seller, reporter Benita Aw Yeong quipped:

I grew up conditioned to believe that the path to success and financial security follows years of slogging in school followed by a degree and a good job in a posh office. Not sweating it out with my spouse in a hawker centre.

I’m not looking for a trophy boyfriend or husband, but introducing a blue-collar boyfriend to friends and family is a worrying prospect.

If you’ve a knack for hawkering, willing to work long hours and make the best bak chor mee in the land, there is no question that the job will earn you a decent living as your own boss, but if the above statement is to be believed, you should also be prepared to remain single for the rest of your life. Perhaps it’s not so much the hardship factor that drives young Singaporeans away from a trade that was once associated with the underprivileged and poor, but that it’s just not ‘glamorous’ enough. If a Singaporean child shows signs of displaying the slightest interest in frying char kway teow, the typical parent would stow away his masak-masak kits and hook him up to a plastic stethoscope instead.

It’s not the first time that the government has tried to instill some prestige into hawkers. In 1989, stallholders received a laughable call to ‘dress up’ and were warned that the wearing of attire such as shorts, singlets, slippers and wooden clogs should no longer be the accepted norm. There were even suggestions of a standard uniform to project a ‘good image’, believing that if a hawker comes to you dressed like the butler of the mansion holding a bowl of  fishball noodles, your kid would want to be like him too. It wasn’t like this in the 1970′s, when the government felt that policies to promote hawking amid throes of unemployment such as licence subsidies resulted in ‘many able bodied young men’ pursuing hawking as a full-time job rather than being more productive elsewhere. Today, these same young men are being seduced by the Ministry to keep hawker centres alive. It’s a little like our Stop at Two campaign, proof that the surefire way of killing an endearing part of our heritage is to have the government step in trying to save it.

Nothing screams romantic ‘blue-collar’ in pop culture like the hawker persona.  In Eric Khoo’s 1995 film Mee Pok Man, a humble hawker falls for a prostitute. 2000′s Chicken Rice War, about rival hawker families, was a self proclaimed parody of Romeo and Juliet. In countless local movies and dramas, the hawker character is often depicted as a slovenly, unshaven, bucktoothed, happy-go-lucky, simple-minded, Hokkien-spewing bumpkin with a white towel draped around his sweaty neck which doubles up as a fly swatter. If you’re the kind of girl who adores French and literature, you’re unlikely to find the man of your dreams flipping carrot cake off a greasy wok.

By typecasting hawkers from movies to National Day videos, we’re comforting ourselves that despite our lust for progress, there are still those among us still holding on to local culinary traditions and skills handed down from one generation to another. But more importantly, hawker food is one of the few reasons people even visit Singapore, and we are goners if every single one of these became converted into air-conditioned food courts dishing out nothing but mixed economical rice. Or if the hokkien mee seller with the straw hat gets replaced by the ‘hawkerpreneur’ who mixes it up with French and Western influences. It’s not hawker fare anymore; it’s bargain fine dining. It explains Vivian Balakrishnan’s urgency about ‘hawkership’ dying off, a horn that he has been tooting ever since 2011 when he felt that hawker centres should be ‘professionalised’ to attract the younger generation. Till today, he has yet to sell the hawker profession to the Singaporean woman, who would willingly have a one-night stand with a buff carwash attendant, but not a man who comes to bed smelling like pork lard.

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Filed under: 1980s, 2013, Hawkers, Local food, Money, Singaporean women | Tagged: , , , , | Leave a Comment »

Sungei Road should no longer be called a Thieves’ Market

Posted on October 2, 2012 by gdy2shoez

From ‘Thieves’ Market: Time to stop the name-calling’, 2 Oct 2012, ST Forum

(Tay Boon Suat):IT IS regrettable that people still refer to the market in Sungei Road as Thieves’ Market (“Time catches up with Thieves’ Market”; last Saturday). Yes, years ago, when life was difficult in Singapore, perhaps some dishonest people relied on this place to make a living. But those times are long gone.

In fact, Sungei Road is now known as a place where many poor and old people rely on selling used household articles to make a living. Many of them have been selling goods there for 20 or 30 years. Some of them are creative enough to add value by repairing old household items and in doing this, are able to turn trash into cash.

They are the majority of sellers, and make an honest living, so why call the place Thieves’ Market?

In Singapore, there are very few local traditional markets that have been able to survive since the 1930s, so why destroy them for the sake of modernisation? I hope our urban planners can be more inclusive, and let this little market have some breathing space, and let it survive. Who knows, this karung guni market might some day become as big a local attraction for foreign tourists as the Chatuchak weekend market in Bangkok.

The Dirty Dozen starting work

In 2008, MP Denise Phua called the Sungei Road market ‘a slum’, and urged authorities to ‘clean it up’, but it’s not just the notorious flea market that’s in a mess, so was Ms Phua’s English:

I’m not seeking to ‘prettify’ the Sungei Road market, but I think it can be cleaner and better managed’

The same MP would be invited to a gala dinner next year to celebrate the launch the Association for the Recycling of Second Hand Goods, intended to protect the vendors’ interests. With the MRT development around the area, it would be impossible for Sungei Road to achieve the gonzo hustle and bustle of Chatuchak, but that doesn’t mean it can’t retain it’s ‘old world charm’, or its ‘sustainable model’ of karang guni trading. If there’s any ‘thieving’ going on, it’s how vendors get to set up shop at ‘a steal’, without having to apply for licenses or pay rental. If pitched right, ‘Thieves’ Market could be a weird and wonderful retro curio paradise, a likely place to find a vinyl player, a ship in a bottle or a Walkman. You may even get a ‘wacky’ pepper spray there too.

Although no longer the chaotic haven for crooks to make a quick buck off stolen junk, you just need to go back a couple of years to uncover incidents which justify why this legendary bazaar still has an air of ‘Ali Baba’ about it. In 2010, you could buy suspected contraband like mountain bikes for $300 (usual price $700). It was 60 years earlier that one of the first references of Sungei Road as a ‘thieves’ market’ was made by a certain Court Magistrate D. A Fyfe, who fined a vendor $100 for selling stolen SWIMMING TRUNKS. In a comical twist of events, the thief was caught by the original owners of the trunks HALF an HOUR after they were swiped at Rochor Road. The victims headed straight for Sungei Road to sniff him out, hence the name stuck.

Swimwear and bikes aside, if you’re lucky you may chance upon someone’s car keys, reels of copper wire worth tens of thousands of dollars, or used army uniforms.  But before it earned the reputation as a one-stop garage sale of pilfered bounty, Sungei Road was affectionately known in the 1930′s as ‘Robinson Petang‘, in reference to the ‘Robinsons’ department store where, other than the iffy stuff, most of it was traded from the rag-and-bone, or karang guni, man, stuff ranging from cigarettes to tin cans and gramaphones. It was raw entrepreneurship at work, a spirit that lives on in the many indie flea markets and pasar malams that line our streets today. I still have my suspicions of those paperbacks which I see at some of these roadside stalls. These are books which obviously NOBODY ever reads and I suspect they were ‘borrowed’ from libraries and never returned.

‘Thieves’ Market’ comes across as a romantic, catchy title that brings to mind flying carpets, genie lamps and even lost treasure maps if you let your imagination wander a little, though anyone strolling through the area in the hot sun would consider it anything but. You may still find the occasional yanked bicycle part, car tyre or bootleg Nokia if you search hard enough, but if a flea market run by pot-bellied uncles is called a ‘Thieves’ Market’, then what is Sim Lim Square? Pirates’ Cove?

Filed under: 1930s, 1950s, 1970s, 1980s, 2000s, 2012, Hawkers, Names, Politicians | Tagged: , , | Leave a Comment »

No peeling of pineapples allowed in Geylang Serai market

Posted on October 1, 2012 by gdy2shoez

From ‘Fruit sellers upset over NEA regulation’, 1 Oct 2012, article by Eunice Toh, TNP

…Fruit sellers at the market said they were verbally warned by a National Environment Agency (NEA) officer on Thursday last week that they are not allowed to skin or cut the pineapples they sell. They said they were told that anyone who violates the regulation would be slapped with a fine, believed to be $200.

The New Paper understands that the move is part of licensing regulations. Stallholders at markets are not licensed to sell peeled or cut fruits. These can only be sold at hawker centres and coffee shops under a different licence, and you need to go through the Basic Food Hygiene Course to get it, says NEA on its website.

…The enforcement of the regulation means a loss of customers, said the fruit sellers at the Geylang Serai wet market. Said Mr Ng Ah Bee, 62, in Mandarin: “Have people fallen ill from eating my fruits? We haven’t received any complaints all these years. “How do we do business like this?”

…Regular patron C. C. Choo, who visits the Geylang Serai market every Tuesday, said: “I live at Changi Road and I come all the way to buy pineapples because the stallholders peel the fruit for me.” The 79-year-old retiree added: “I can’t even cut an apple. How am I supposed to peel a pineapple?”

Another customer shocked by the news was Madam Bebe Seet, 62. She said: “I thought the stallholder was joking at first. I couldn’t believe it.” She is also worried about how this would affect her 15-year-old business. She owns a Peranakan heritage shop along East Coast Road, which also sells pineapple tarts.

She said: “I usually order about 80 to 100 pineapples at one go. Pineapple tarts are my speciality. Where am I going to get cut pineapples now?”

It may just be a coincidence, but another ‘SEET’ complained to STOMP about being deprived of this ‘buang kulit’ service, though this person claimed that the fine was not $200, but $1000. There haven’t been cases of people dying of pineapple poisoning in recent memory, but there have been deaths from consuming rojak in Geylang Serai in 2009, that’s excluding 150 others who fell sick from it. Which may explain why NEA officers are picking on Geylang Serai stallholders rather than those in other markets, with its infamy of being the site of the WORST case of food poisoning in Singapore’s history. It was also a PR disaster for NEA, otherwise known for their rigorous maintenance of hygiene standards. And asking people to clear their trays after eating.

Leaving the skin on a fruit doesn’t necessarily mean it’s ‘cleaner’, as anyone who’s been to a supermarket and seen aunties probing fruit with their grubby fingers can testify. It would be interesting if someone decides to send a random unpeeled NTUC apple and a Geylang Serai peeled and cut pineapple for microbial testing. I wouldn’t be surprised to find the apple having a higher bacterial count than the doorknob of a People’s Park toilet, a result by which you can toss the NEA’s case against cut fruits out of the window. I haven’t personally peeled a pineapple myself, but from the looks of its hard, spiny exterior, I wouldn’t call it so much ‘peeling’ as it is ‘deshelling’. You’d probably need a blade sharp enough to pry a tortoise’s carapace off its back. If you force pineapple fans to bring these armoured fruits home WHOLE, they may end up contaminating the fruits themselves if not done in a surgical manner, with a chopper or on a chopping board that has remnants of raw meat on it. If you’re in a mad rush to prepare stacks of pineapple tarts for CNY however,  a chainsaw would be the only viable option.

So what does one make of this ‘Basic Food Hygiene Course’ then? Turns out it is 7 hours of training followed by 1.5 hours of ‘assessment’, which I’d imagine to be nothing more than a T/F or MCQ test. After which you’re a certified food handler, though that doesn’t stop creepy crawlies from finding their way into your dishes, whether you’re slogging it out at a wet market or a fancy restaurant. Unless the NEA can justify how a cut and sealed pineapple is more hazardous than a bunch of manhandled grapes in a supermarket, my take is that this crackdown is excessively erring on the side of caution than anything else, based on nothing more than a legacy of contaminated rojak, the kind of rojak that traditionally doesn’t use pineapple too.

Filed under: 2000s, 2012, Bureaucrats, Environment, Hawkers, Local food | Tagged: , , , , | 2 Comments »

Hawker centre tray return racks too smelly

Posted on September 16, 2012 by gdy2shoez

From ‘Why it’s difficult to return trays at hawker centres’ and ‘Tray clearing didn’t work previously because of poor facilities’, 15 Sept 2012, ST Forum

(Tan Ying San): THERE is a reason why patrons at fast-food restaurants such as McDonald’s or Burger King willingly return their trays while those at the hawker centres do not (“Tray-return campaign set for a comeback”; Wednesday).

In fact, patrons avoid seats near the tray-return racks at hawker centres. The reason is simple: Food at fast-food restaurants is dry while the food at hawker centres is a mish-mash of soup, fried vegetables, dark sauce and oily fish. Just look at the mess in the plastic basin where the used bowls and dishes are placed. Not only is it an ugly sight but it also smells sometimes.

If operators of hawker centres and foodcourts want patrons to return the trays, a big effort to clean up the collection centre will go some way in encouraging a change in behaviour.

(Tony Lee): PREVIOUS campaigns to encourage self-clearing of trays failed not only because of a lack of graciousness but also proper facilitation (“Tray-return campaign set for a comeback”; Wednesday).

Hawker centres are cramped with an average of 200 tables, with narrow passages in between. Thus it is already quite an effort to weave in and out of the crowds safely without spilling when carrying a tray of food and drinks to reach one’s selected table. Self-clearing of trays will also lead to congestion.

Even if most patrons were to clear the tables by returning their trays of empty plates and bowls to the shelves placed at various corners in the hawker centre, the cleaners will still be needed to sort them out and return them to the different stalls for washing. Patrons must also walk around to find empty tray shelves if those placed near popular food stalls are full.

What Will and Kate missed

While it is generally true that hawker food tends to be messier than fast food, if you take into account spillage or remnants like bones or leftover sauces, you could make the work easier for everyone by not WASTING food and taking less condiments than you need in the first place. You may also stack your bowls, plates and debris in a neat, compact manner instead of spitting bones onto the table. For whatever reason that makes it difficult for someone to return a tray, be it the stink of the collection centre, ‘congestion’, or ‘feeling bad’ for cleaners who need the job, the least you can do as a gracious human being is to leave your table in a state that wouldn’t require the next patron or worker to don rubber gloves and a decontamination suit to render it less hazardous to one’s health. Or at least not leave behind a sumptuous buffet for mynahs, crows and rats which will not only transfer the waste from tray to table to floor and chair, but poop in your unfinished wanton soup as well.

An exception to the above would be the Ikea cafe culture, where the food is equally messy but the collection centre is centrally located and accessible with a couple of cleaners on hand sorting things out. Maybe it’s not so ‘simple’ as just facilities or the kind of food you eat that determines one’s willingness to return a tray, but rather the psychology and habits of diners. I could just eat a piece of goreng pisang and leave the wrapper behind on the table even if there’s a empty, odourless trash can right next to me if I’m the sort of lazy bastard with a ‘maid mentality’. Also, hawker centre patrons are generally office workers in a rush, and if one had to queue for a longer time just to return trays compared to ordering ‘economical mixed rice’, then you may add another excuse to the list: My boss will kill me if I return back to office a minute late.

Even at Macs not everyone cleans up after themselves, and sometimes even the adults, including teachers of ‘brand name’ schools,  fail to set an example. I personally witnessed a mother telling her daughter to ‘leave it, wait you get your hands dirty’ and walked out of Macs without clearing their trays. Whether out of absent-mindedness, fear of contamination or just plain laziness, the greatest contagion here is not the spread of disease and vermin from uncleared trays, but the attitudes of parents and other ‘role models’ infecting our children.

There have been filthy tables as long as there were hawker centres, and amazingly in the eighties our communal sense of self-consciousness was not as developed as it is today (or maybe we just ran out of cleaners), with fingers being pointed at everything else (hawkers and cleaners included) than at ourselves. Popular spots like Newton Circus greeted patrons with a ‘pong of stewing offal and rotting swill’. People also asked the government to deploy ‘efficient ladies’ to clear tables immediately after anyone leaves.  Those who were part of that generation of sanitation expectation, including myself, are now flag bearers for the younger generation today. And if we don’t snap out of this dependence, how else will the kids learn?

So what can we do to drill tray-clearing into Singaporeans without resorting to toilet-training? Gentle reminders in ads and campaigns such as putting ‘Goodness Gracious’ stickers on tables are inadequate and a waste of time and money in my opinion. Fining failure to return trays under the same legislation as one penalises littering is too harsh. Instead of instilling fear, I think you’d need to create a herd mentality and exploit the Singaporean trait of ‘following the crowd’. If I’m at McDonalds and everyone around me suddenly walks off without clearing their trays, I’m less likely to clear mine, because EVERYONE else is not doing it. Likewise, if I’m at a hawker centre and I see Jenga stacks of dirty plates around me, my brain would register it as the ‘norm’ and I wouldn’t want to ‘stand out’ being the lone ranger clearing his tray.

I would suggest to NEA to recruit not tray ‘ambassadors’ or comedians in starched officer uniform to tell people off, but ‘actors’ instead to dish out some serious guerilla-tactic mind games. This is how I imagine it would work: Target families tucking into dinner in a hawker centre, making sure they are kids in the group. Deploy an ‘actor’ family (with kids as well) next to your target and make sure you finish your food before them. Make the kid actor walk off without the tray while the rest have already started carrying theirs. Make the adult actors admonish the kid ‘Boy boy, what are you supposed to do after you finish your food?’. As the kid does so grudgingly, have the adults deal a little life lesson on being compassionate to fellow human beings and give direction to tray collection areas. Make sure all this is seen and heard without sounding like you’re in Jack Neo film. Chances are your target and those around them will follow suit in a chain reaction of tray clearing. Better still, secretly film the entire scene and upload on Youtube. Like the mini fly haven of a landfill that is the hawker centre tray collection centre, it will go VIRAL.

Hello, NEA are you listening, I’m trying to have CONVERSATION here.

Filed under: 2000s, 2012, Bureaucrats, Campaigns/Elections, Environment, Hawkers, Local food | Tagged: , , , , , , , | 1 Comment »

$1.99 set meals when 1 cent coins no longer exist

Posted on June 2, 2012 by gdy2shoez

From ‘Do away with $1.99 pricing for meals’, 2 June 2012, ST Forum

(Lim Kay Heng): I WONDER why NTUC Foodfare prices its set meal at $1.99 when the Board of Commissioners of Currency has stopped issuing 1 cent coins (‘Budget $1.99 meal to beat inflation’; Friday).

Why not price it at $2? If NTUC Foodfare wants to give the impression that it can offer a meal for the needy at less than $2, price it at $1.95 or $1.90.

The most affordable ‘Mixed Vegetable Rice’ money can buy

For 1 chicken wing braised in dark sauce, hard boiled egg and what looks suspiciously like canned achar,  $1.99 sounds like a good deal, even looks appetising, though probably not filling enough for me. According to the original article,  ‘the $1.99 rate is for customers who are part of the Public Assistance Scheme, students, senior citizens, full-time national servicemen with concessionary cards and NTUC union members. Other diners pay $2.50.’ Those on the PAS can opt to fork out ONE miserly CENT more if they forgo the set and choose from 20 dishes for $2. Therein lies the oldest marketing gimmick in the book, the use of the magical number 99 to attract customers, when it’s unlikely that anyone will ACTUALLY pay $1.99 (unless you spent your entire childhood collecting one cent coins in a jar). As you’ll see, the extinction of ONE cent coins is not the POINT here. This isn’t charity, and like any other business you need some play with numbers to stay afloat. And this number play is as old school as it can get.

What one cent coins looked like

One cent coins have been out of commission since 2002, incidentally a time when Woman Entrepreneur of the Year 2000 Nanz Chong’s ONE.99 shop was considering raising prices of all items to $2. First set up in the Heeren, Orchard Road (circa 1997), ‘$1.99 for everything’ was a shrewd, ballsy gimmick at the time (Everything at $199 – in the heart of pricey Orchard Road? 6 July 1997, ST). That business eventually folded, though many other factors such as copycat competition may have brought the budget concept to its knees other than giving up on a ‘magical’ price tag. I personally wouldn’t buy my kitchenware at a TWO DOLLAR SHOP, though I would patronise a $2.99 store because of the illusion of ‘value’ that the numbers create, even if that doesn’t make any rational dollar sense at all. In 2001, someone opened a $10 dollar clothings shop in Far East Plaza called Take Ten to ride on the $1.99 frenzy (And for $10, 15 Feb 2001, ST). I don’t know if this still exists today but I think more people would bite if it had charged everything for $9.99 instead.

You could apply the 99 numerological sorcery to price tags other than ‘economical’ rice or budget shop items as well.

The list of  freakonomic tricks involving magic number 9 is endless, and since you can jolly well top up 1 cent for better variety, I would think a ‘$1.99 set meal’ is more a calculated gamble on flawed human psychology than anything else.  You feel good about yourself if you in fact do pay $1.99, but even better if you ‘pay a teenie-weenie more’ ($2) for something extra. If the ONE.99  shop and the above examples have taught us anything, it’s that you can always make a hungry person pay more than necessary and still think he had a good bargain.

Filed under: 1980s, 2000s, 2012, Advertisements, Hawkers, Local food, Money | Tagged: , , | 1 Comment »

Singapore Day an expensive exercise in futility

Posted on April 14, 2012 by gdy2shoez

From ‘Thanks, but spending $4m for S’pore Day is too much’, 14 April 2012, ST Forum

(Liang Kaicheng): I AM one of thousands of happy Singaporeans based in the United States who will be making their way by plane, car or bus to New York City today for Singapore Day. But I am also embarrassed to discover that the event will cost $4 million (‘New York to draw 4,000 on S’pore Day’; last Saturday).

Much as I am looking forward to stuffing my face with chicken rice at Prospect Park in Brooklyn, I find it bewildering that the Government is prepared to spend such a considerable sum to woo overseas Singaporeans home and boost the local talent pool.

There may be far better ways to spend $4 million of taxpayers’ money than on a bunch of Singaporeans living abroad, many of whom have their eye on lucrative, prestigious opportunities in their adopted countries and have no plans to return to Singapore in the foreseeable future.

No amount of fried carrot cake, 1980s music or (local TV show character) Barbarella’s preening can pull people away from Wall Street, Silicon Valley, top university professorships, or the myriad other reasons why some Singaporeans choose to live abroad.

If the aim of the event is merely to remind overseas Singaporeans of their home, it may be even more overpriced. I am grateful that the Government has me in its thoughts, but I am also uncomfortable that Singapore Day may inevitably be an expensive exercise in futility.

A similar piece was written on Singapore Day being more of a showcase of local gluttony by Siew Kum Hong in 2007. According to the ex-NMP, National Day Songs were played at the inaugural event in New York, with a ‘singular emphasis on food’, although another Overseas Singaporean (OS) Colin Goh commented that the local fare flown over could already be sampled in New York except for ‘chwee kueh’. With more than a million PRCs living here, I’m surprised no one has thought of a ‘China Day’ in Singapore yet, though it would probably feel just like   ‘Any Other Day’ to most of us.

This year, Zouk’s ‘Mambo night’ is being marketed as something of a uniquely Singaporean past-time, though synchronised gesturing to cheesy 80′s retro music is not that far off from sending in a Great Singapore Workout contingent. It’s like reminding the Spanish about Macarena, though one must admit it’s at least better than launching a mobile National Day Parade at Singapore Day like we used to.

In 2011′s event, Kit Chan was flown to Shanghai to sing ‘Home’ (truly, where know I MUST be). It also featured kampong games like chapteh and five stones, which comes across as an propagandist exercise in inaccuracy rather than ‘futility’ since our kids are too busy swiping iPads or attending weekend enrichment classes to play pick up sticks anymore. In 2008, Melbourne, a NATIONAL SERVICE showcase was presented, featuring ‘various simulators and high-tech training equipment to display the prowess of the armed forces’. Reminding our boys of what they moved overseas to escape from, or what some may be forced to face if they ever return, is a terrible idea regardless of how advanced our laser weaponry is, painting the event with the sour, parasitic tone of a ‘recruitment drive’ rather than a nostalgic funfair. Covert enlistment aside, perhaps the festival is also an annual million-dollar, grovelling, elaborate apology for Goh Chok Tong’s  ‘quitter’ label some years back.

You don’t need to fly the Noose team or Phua Chu Kang to major cities to help Singaporeans ‘RE-CONNECT’ with the local scene. Thanks to the Internet and social media, if I want to see Kit Chan sing ‘Home’ I’ll just Youtube it. If I want to preserve my Singlish I’ll view Mrbrown podcasts or Dr Jia Jia. If I’m the sort who can’t wait to serve NS, I’ll Google Mindef. If I want to keep in touch with friends back home, I’ll Skype, Facebook or Tweet.    Still, the fact that tens of thousands of OS have flocked to Singapore Days suggests that there’ s more to it than just hawker food or multimedia history lessons plucked out of recycled NDP montage video clips. Maybe it’s simply hanging out with people who speak your lingo, with whom you’re guaranteed something common to talk about (lah punctuated no less), nevermind if you’ve never Mambo-Jamboed in your life, or haven’t the faintest inclination to pack your bags. If anything, this annual diaspora bonding may even deter OS from ever returning, given that Singapore Day always seems to oversell itself as a fun, vibrant, dare I say more ‘Singaporean’ , jamboree than the actual Singapore itself.

In my opinion, the OSU should keep it subtle and simple, ditch the NDP songs and ridiculous dancing, the vain attempts to make Singapore or its SAF attractive again, and just rename the awful sounding Singapore Day to ‘Shiok (Food) Festival’. Don’t even attempt to sell Merlion keychains.

Filed under: 2000s, 2011, 2012, Festivals, Hawkers, Local actors, Local food, Money | Tagged: , , , | 4 Comments »

Food court named after Khmer Rouge killing field

Posted on November 23, 2011 by gdy2shoez

From ‘Foodcourt chain’s name, S21, is undesirable’, 23 Nov 2011, ST Forum

(Siew Heng Keong)…I have noticed there is a popular foodcourt chain in Singapore named S21. S-21 is a former high school in Cambodia which was used as the notorious Security Prison 21 (S-21) by the Khmer Rouge communist regime from its rise to power in 1975 to its fall in 1979. It was an urban killing field of the Khmer Rouge. If anything, S-21 holds a greater notoriety for Singaporeans by geography and regional association as Cambodia is an Asean member.

I wonder if the owners are aware of the implications of the name of their foodcourt chain. I am also puzzled why the name S21 was allowed by the Accounting and Corporate Regulatory Authority (Acra) in the first place. Acra said it would not endorse any name of business that is ‘undesirable’. I think S21 is very undesirable.

This was written in response to media coverage of a bar with a name similar to Nazi concentration camp Auschwitz. The S21 food outlets also appear to be a sequelae to the more established S11 chain, which even has its own Facebook page. Not sure if there ever was a S11 Khmer Rouge camp, but I’ve written enough about how people are forgetting about our very own Changi prison atrocities whilst making smug reference to global genocides in the earlier post on Aushwitz (the bar).  Seems like ACRA needs to hire expert historians to name-check every massacre site known to man before registering businesses, otherwise we can’t eat at these places with such haunting names without losing our appetite thinking of heads impaled on sticks. At this rate, every diner’s signboard will end up looking like Toys R Us or Kiddyland, if not Big or Fat something because it’s OK to use a politically-incorrect word like FAT, but not even hint at a murder site with at least one black -and-white documentary filmed after it.

Naming FnB outlets after S21 and Auschwitz may be deemed ‘in bad taste’ because they refer to exact death camp locations, but there would also be a matter of INTENT. A bar owner who denies alluding to Auschwitz by dropping a single ‘c’ would be harder to believe than a food court magnate giving a seemingly random alphanumeric , and ‘undesirably’ bland, title to his business while mistaking ‘Khmer Rouge’ for a trendy line of cosmetics or a dance club instead of a militant killing machine.  The writer is probably also aware of the notorious Unit 731 as well, an Imperial Japanese army research group specialising in horrific human experimentation, which, by the same argument, makes the presence of many ‘unit-731s’ in apartments or shop floors very ‘undesirable’ indeed. But that would be just ridiculous.

The best argument to expose the silliness of it all is that S21 also happens to be ‘Singapore 21′, the government’s vision for Singapore in the 21st century launched almost a decade ago, espousing ‘key ideas’ like ‘Every Singaporean Matters’ and ‘The Singapore Heartbeat’. The brainchild of Goh Chok Tong himself circa 1997,  the S21 committee was headed by then Minister of Defence Teo Chee Hean, who should have known better than play along with a murderous name for his task force. But perhaps there are similarities after all; instead of bodies being flogged here it’s weary platitudes like ‘vision’, ‘home’, ‘heartbeat’, ‘worth dying for’ and the ghastly ‘personal rainbows’, which makes S21- Singapore version- not so much a masterplan (where is it at now anyway?), but more useful as a lyric cheat sheet for lazy National Day songwriters,  or a rhetoric equivalent of Microsoft Office Clipart for rally speeches.

Filed under: 2000s, 2011, Funerals/Death, Hawkers, Local food, Names, Violence | Tagged: , , , , | 5 Comments »

Hawker gambler glamorised by media

Posted on November 12, 2011 by gdy2shoez

From ‘Media hype over MBS winner glamorises gambling’, 12 Nov 2011, Voices, Today

(Sebastian Tan Gee How): …While I am happy that Ms Choo Hong Eng will get her S$416,742.11 winnings from Marina Bay Sands, and even happier that she has decided to donate half to charity, I am worried that too much hype and attention has been accorded to her case.

Already, we are grappling with the real problem of elderly persons gambling away their (or their children’s) hard-earned money at the casinos. Surely such publicity would make it more “attractive” for them to try gambling. I can imagine the elderly persons now telling their family members and friends, who may be trying to dissuade them from gambling, that it is possible to “get rich” by citing Ms Choo’s example.

I urge the media to stop their reporting of Ms Choo, which has inadvertedly “glamorised” gamblers like her.

( The following photo was published in ST on the same day this forum letter appeared)

The most guarded piece of paper in the country

Vegetarian hawker Choo has become a minor celebrity not so much of her claimed generosity (will anyone actually check that she puts the money where her mouth is?), but because this saga is a classic  biblical trope of small-time folk hero battling the odds to smite a Goliath in the casino business.  If she weren’t a hawker but a rich man’s wife, we’d probably wouldn’t care so much. Justice may have been served, but this admittedly over-sensationalised rags to riches story, including an elaborate background of hardship as an orphan (could there be a Jack Neo autobiographical movie in the making?) is exactly the kind of news that people lap up, because it gives us HOPE, makes us ENVIOUS, and for those in the anti-casino camp, a satisfying dollop of just deserts (though $400K means nothing to MBS; they have been reported to make $11 million a DAY).

What the media is selling isn’t MBS or gambling per se, but a narrative that Singaporeans would all sympthatise with, one that celebrates the triumph of humility and good over evil i.e the papers are just selling themselves. It was geared to tug at our emotions, and for all this ‘victory for the common people’ and how Choo seemingly deserved her fortune for doing good deeds most of her life, it doesn’t dispel the irony of the other deliberately subdued lesson here; that one can strike it rich by sheer luck, whether you’re rich or poor, especially if you’re kind-hearted by nature. The fact is, for every good hawker who strikes a lottery, there are plenty others like her living on a prayer at the brink of bankruptcy, no matter how active they have been doing charity or saving people’s lives, waiting for the day of their divine reward to arrive in the form of a highly improbable alignment of numbers, jackpot icons or rolls of the die. These people will continue to wait, and hope, or take a shot at the MBS, with or without Choo’s story being blared all over the media.

What’s really underplayed here is whether MBS will be penalised for trying to pull the wool over a patron’s eyes and deny payouts, which could help take some of the limelight off Choo, maybe even dissuade gamblers from patronising a casino with a reputation of cheating their customers. Instead, it’s likely the reverse has already happened, judging by the recent reports of MBS daily takings. But gambling influence aside,  the flip side of such publicity is that Choo probably has to sleep with one eye open for a while, and even if her story reveals a no-nonsense feisty character about her, the very fact that she’s an ordinary person, doing an ordinary job, does put her and her family in an unnerving, and quite unnecessary, spotlight.  If I were in her shoes, the first thing I’d buy for myself would be a bodyguard. THEN donate everything to ‘charity’. I would also change my mobile number in case some long lost friend in need suddenly calls to ‘see how I’m doing’.

You don’t physically need a casino, or journalists, to ham up gambling as a glamourous lifestyle. Back in 1993, a certain SBC blockbuster called the ‘Unbeatables’ was aired, a blatant copy of Hong Kong’s God of Gamblers series, complete with flying cards and slow motion, close-up  dice rolls. This spawned parts 2 and 3, as well as a new generation of high-roller drama called ‘the Ultimatum’, with good-looking leads in opulent settings, throwing in some gun-totting intrigue, romance and overblown card tricks for good measure to complete the allure of the casino universe.  I’m sure none of the producers or actors are losing sleep over the casino problems we’re facing currently, but Choo’s life story blends in well with any of the synopses of these dramas. Let’s all hope her tale ends here on a happy note.

How can anyone watch this poker-faced?

Filed under: 1990s, 2011, Casino/gambling, Hawkers, Local actors, Local TV shows, Money | Tagged: , , , , | 1 Comment »

Mock dog meat better than real dog meat

Posted on May 10, 2011 by gdy2shoez

From ‘Dog meat served in Chinese restaurant’?, 10 May 2011, article by Joy Fang, My Paper

THE Internet has been abuzz with outrage and indignation after pictures of a menu from a Chinese restaurant were posted on citizen-journalism website Stomp. Listed on the menu of Song Hua Jiang Restaurant in Jurong East Avenue1 are two dog-meat dishes.

The importation of dog meat is illegal here. If convicted, an offender may be fined up to $10,000. In addition, no premises in Singapore are licensed to slaughter dogs. If convicted, an offender may be fined up to $10,000, or imprisoned up to 12 months, or both.

It was Mr Eddie Ho, an asset-management director, who sent the pictures to Stomp. He said he was “disgusted” by the descriptions on the menu: A main dish of “braised dog meat, tofu and dry cabbage”, and an appetiser, “dog meat tripe in sauce”.

Restaurant owner Song Yu Ran, 39, has explained that he does not use dog meat in the dishes. Instead, the meat actually comes from pigs’ hearts.

Mr Song, who is from Song Hua Jiang village in Harbin, China, said in Mandarin that he labelled the “dog meat” main dish as Sai Guo Gou Rou, which means “dog meat that races past” actual dog meat, implying that the “mock” meat is better than real dog meat.

“It’s fake,” he said. “The taste of a pig’s heart is very similar to that of dog meat. It serves as a very good replacement.”

It could have been braised Pekingese

This is clearly a case of lack of proper market research and assuming that our local Chinese population still have the same taste for Lassie as our ancestors. Even if Singaporeans had a lust for dangerous, exotic meat, they would go for the real thing instead of a pork replacement. It would be a gross insult if I were to be offered chicken when I have an adventurous craving for crocodile, no matter how one tries to persuade me that aged chicken breast tastes exactly like the most tender reptilian sirloin. Selling mock meat in place of another meat is not only misleading advertising, but a atrocious business move that will have the mastermind behind Sai Guo Gou Rou dogged to death by animal lovers, most of whom probably have no qualms about sharks’ fin or veal but howl to the moon when they find man’s best friend braised and tossed with cabbage and tofu.

Even if one were to argue about the ethics of dog eating being no different from consuming suckling pig, the difference is that most locals have at least tried the latter, and if they could convince themselves somehow that deep fried tau kee tastes EXACTLY like suckling pig skin, the assuaging of guilt while still having the same taste buds stimulated would be sole motivation for eating it. No Singaporean would confess to eating dog meat, and no Singaporean would boast of eating fake dog meat, on a first date, it’s like telling someone you spend your weekends polishing the shackles of your home dungeon wearing nothing but a tiger-skin loincloth. A couple of quotation marks to indicate Braised ‘Dog’ meat could have saved Mr Song all the trouble here, but that really applies to other dishes too, like ‘Crab’ Sticks, ‘Lobster’ Bisque, or ‘Prawn’ crackers, though we never really complain about those. Not the first time that hawkers have tried to pass off mundane meat for something that sounds like it was shot down with a blowpipe in the jungle (Wild boar meat sold here either fake or illegal, 15 Aug 1987, ST). With gullible gastronomes willing to try anything these days, one could mash up some luncheon meat with pig entrails and make a fortune marketing it as ‘Fresh roadkill’, or fry a mixture of  chicken liver and frog legs and call it ‘Borneo jungle fruit bat’.

Filed under: 2011, Advertisements, Animal abuse, Foreign workers, Hawkers, It Should Have Been.., Local food | Tagged: , , | Leave a Comment »

Our future will become a big bowl of rojak

Posted on May 2, 2011 by gdy2shoez

From ‘Beware of rojak government if PAP loses power, Swee Say warns’, 2 May 2011, article by Teo Cheng Wee in ST

Cabinet Minister Lim Swee Say yesterday warned that Singapore could get a ‘rojak government with rojak policies’ if the people vote in the Opposition on Saturday.

…’Everybody will just put in their idea…Your future will become a big bowl of rojak…On the one hand, the opposition wants us to move towards the First World, but on the other, they want to push us towards Third World Africa.’

The history of the rojak analogy is a mixed bag itself, used both derisively and affectionately depending on the occasion.  You could use it to describe our multicultural diversity and how a bunch of humble ingredients blended together with sweet black sauce would create a symphony of flavours that is this uniquely Singaporean dish (Describing it as a ‘vegetable salad’ to foreigners is doing gross injustice). Otherwise, it has often derogatory implications of chaos and disarray, whether it’s the organisation of Parliament or the contents of a woman’s handbag (Wah, your handbag inside like rojak, everything also have man!). In fact, the bad analogy was employed by PAP co-founder Toh Chin Chye way back in 1958 (see cartoon below, Untitled, 15 Nov 1958, ST), and again 10 years ago (see 1 Nov 2001 Today letter below)which leads one to suspect that the PAP has been keeping a secret manual of recycled catchphrases and analogies to befuddle the public all this while. We used to think there’s nothing wrong with rojak, and trust the ruling party to insult the pride and joy of hawkers and perennial tourist favourite by filing  it under the head-scratching  ‘Unruly and all over the place’ category.

It’s strange then, how a government that lauds diversity as a key selling point of this country is willing to apply it to race, religion, foreign workers and age but not ideas. I mean what do you expect, Mr Lim Swee Say? By allowing more foreigners in and doing nothing to curb the declining birth rate of Singaporeans, our future has already become a big bowl of rojak, so one would expect rojak policies and rojak government eventually, whether you like it or not.  Because a rojak government can only come from its rojak people, to serve a rojak population. On a side note, I’m not a Hougang resident, but last I checked they had a shopping mall with nice restaurants, running tap water, and the people had clean clothes and were free of cholera, so anyone who would, for the past 10 years, label the town a slum might be the sort who would also compare 5-room HDB flat accommodation to living in a dirty shoebox.

So, if the Opposition is rojak, then the PAP would be something along the lines of a Mcsalad. It’s manufactured from the same source and always tastes the same, with all its ingredients  predetermined and formulated to boring precision whichever outlet you go (Unlike rojak where you can choose to have tau pok and you tiao only, no tau gay). It pretends to be good for you despite being high in calories, and would be utterly tasteless if not for a generous dollop of fat-laden, artery-clogging salad dressing. It’s deliberately cold and appetizing so that you’ll remain hungry and order an unhealthy serving of burger, fries and coke thereafter. You could bundle it with an apple pie and green tea and call it a ‘Healthy Happy Meal’. But more importantly, you could have a complete meal at a kopitiam for the ridiculous price you pay for it.

The fresh taste of freedom

Filed under: 1950s, 2011, Campaigns/Elections, Environment, Hawkers, Local food, Politicians, Public works | Tagged: , , , , , , | 2 Comments »

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