Of Beetles and Chinese Cemeteries

Chinatown Boy's fond recollection of the Volkswagen Beetle and the very, very popular movie, Love Bug (Herbie is at it again!), brings back some memories.

My family used to own a beetle. But sad to say, it had many problems (I must clarify that ours was an old, second-hand model). Once, I attended a party in the Officers' Mess in Mandai camp. I drove the family car but when it was time to go home, it wouldn't start. It caused considerable embarrassment as I was supposed to fetch some ladies home. Fortunately, my platoon was around that evening. And having whipped them into tip-top physical condition through months of combat engineers training, I got to reap the rewards of my labour. It was no sweat for my boys to push start the beetle.

The car also brings back some memories about our grave-sweeping days in Bishan. As this is the Ching Ming （清 明）period, I might as well take the opportunity to educate the youngsters about the Bishan cemeteries.

My father used to bring us each year to Pek San Teng ( 碧 山 亭) or Kampong San Teng, as it was called those days, to pay respect to his elders; most of whom we do not even know. It was always a very tiresome affair. The weather was usually hot; and it was made worse by the burning of joss sticks and papers and even grass; as well as the traffic jams. It was also hard work to locate the graves and cut the over-grown lallang. Many hours were also spent to prepare the worshipping paraphernalia and food (for offering) and paint for the faded words on the grave stones, sharpen the sickles and so on.

One of the most frustrating parts of this annual exercise was to locate the graves. Based on what I can remember, the system of organising the cemeteries was really lousy. My brothers agree with me. Let me explain a bit about the system.

The entire area was divided into a series of 'hills' and 'pavilions'. For example, one of the hills was located at the spot behind the old Braddell-Toa Payoh flyover (where there used to be a petrol station) So to locate a particular grave, you must know the name of the hill and the pavilion number; for example 黄福山, 第五亭 (Wong Fook Hill, Pavilion No. 5). Then comes the difficult part of finding the exact grave in this section. And it didn’t help when we were not sure of the exact words written on the grave stones. As it was an annual event, my father often had difficulty remembering all these details from a year ago. Oftentimes, the writing on the graves were faded. In fact, finding the hill itself in the vast Bishan area was quite an achievement in 'topo' as the army boys would call it. Anyway, I was too young at that time, and I merely followed where the older ones led.

Another thing I remember about this annual exercise was the grass cutters. These people will pester us to let them cut the over-grown lallang at the graves and charged an exorbitant sum. Often they simply will not take no for an answer; and occasionally this led to ugly incidents. What they would do was to hop on your car bumper to get a ride to your destination. And their favourite car was the Volkswagen Beetle because it had an extended stainless steel bumper which provided a convenient standing platform for the bumpy ride.

And for all our hard work, we were rewarded with a big makan session when we returned home.

Last week, I had a meeting with the other friends of Yesterday.sg. I met Kenneth who stays in Bishan. Like many young Singaporeans, he knows of the history of Bishan as a former burial ground, but he just could not picture it. I hope this post has helped a little. Unfortunately, I do not have any photos to illustrate.

Before I end, I would just like to take a moment to clarify that I no long practice ancestral worship. As Christians, we are commanded to honour our earthly parents, but we are only to worship our Creator God and not humans. However, to honour the memory of my parents, and to express the value that I place on my relationship with my siblings, I accompany them each year to Siong Lim Temple where my parents' ashes are kept; and where they do the worshipping. After that we adjourn for lunch to catch up and have warm fellowship.


Footnote:

As I type, it’s starting to rain outside. Suddenly, I recall this famous Tang (Dynasty) poem about Qing Ming

清明 (杜牧作)

清明时节雨纷纷
路上行人欲断魂
借问酒家何处有？
牧童遥指杏花村。


Translation: (Source: Learn Chinese Stories, Idioms, Sayings: Chinese Poem - Qing Ming by Du Mu)

It drizzles endless during the rainy season in spring,
Travelers along the road look gloomy and miserable.
When I ask a shepherd boy where I can find a tavern,
He points at a distant hamlet nestling amidst apricot blossoms.

My friend Simon Chu used to recite a very funny, but crude parody of this famous poem. I will ask him to share with you later.

In Memoriam: My Army Buddy, Chong Teuck

In my earlier post on Gillman Camp, I mentioned my army buddy Chong Teuck.

Yesterday, I saw an obituary commemorating the 10th anniversary of his passing in the Straits Times. I decided to write this blog in memory of my old friend with whom I spent almost one half of my active days in the army.

Cheong Teuck and I were platoon mates for nine months in Charlie Company, OCS (Officer Cadet School) in SAFTI in 1976. After that we were both posted to Gillman Camp for the four-and-a-half month JOEC (Junior Officers Engineer Course in 1977. From there, I was posted to 30SCE in Mandai Camp to serve my remaining 10 months of full-time national service as a platoon commander, whilst he went on for yet another course in 37SCE. Being a regular, he was permitted to do that.

My regret as always, was that we never kept in touch, and our paths never crossed since then.

I dedicate the photographs below to the memory of my friend Chong Teuck.



Taken at Gillman Camp after some lesson on camouflage and concealment


Enlarged view (From Left): Joe Chung, Chong Teuck and myself





Taken at Temple Hill, Gillman Camp after a lesson on the Cage Bridge





Taken at Gillman Camp after a lesson on Bailey Bridge



Taken at Mandai Camp during a lesson on Medium Girder Bridge. Me facing camera. CT (with gasses) looking on



Taken at Safti Demolition Range. Me standing; extreme left. CT standing 2nd from right


I was happy to read from his obituary that Chong Teuck had accepted Christ as his Lord and savior. May the Lord bless and keep his wife and 2 daughters.


At least I know that someday, we will meet again ‘”on that beautiful shore”.

There’s a land that is fairer than day,
And by faith we can see it afar;
For the Father waits over the way
To prepare us a dwelling place there.

In the sweet by and by,
We shall meet on that beautiful shore;
In the sweet by and by,
We shall meet on that beautiful shore.

The Humble ‘Punki’ – A Symbol of Toil and Fun

After reading June Yong’s interesting post
about the Grassroots Heritage Centre, I decided to pay a visit the other day at lunch time. As June mentioned, there were lots of useful information about the history of community centres in Singapore for the past 40 years. But I confess I did not pay much attention. Instead, I was excited to see many familiar objects which brought back memories.

The first object that caught my attention was the rattan basket or what we called ‘punki’ in Hokkien. (sorry I do not know the correct name in English). I have not seen this type of rattan punki for a long time. Nowadays, they are all made of plastic and black in colour.



To me the humble punki is a symbol of toil as well as fun. Toil because it reminds me of the tough defence exercises in the army where we had to dig trenches and moved earth with it. Fun because we used to catch fighting fishes from the nearby ponds with it during our kampong days.

As most of the NS boys in Singapore are familiar with the former activity, I will limit this post to sharing about how we used the punki for one of the most enjoyable activities of my childhood.


To catch a fighting fish, you must first locate a suitable site. We usually look for patches of grass or vegetation on the edge of the pond; like the one you see in the picture below (taken at MacRitchie Reservoir), but our grass was taller and the water dirtier. It’s strange how this instinct stays with you all your life. Every time I come across a lake or pond like this, my mind immediately asks; “Are there any fighting fishes here?”



Next you wade quietly to the knee-deep, murky water in front of the patch and plunged in the punki. Immediately, use one hand to beat around the bush, literally, to chase the fishes into your punki, whilst steadying it with the other hand. After that, you raise the punki in eager anticipation. What a thrill it was to see a brightly-coloured, struggling male fighting fish in your punki. However, we occasionally get a rude shock when we see a huge hairy spider scurrying around instead.

The kind of fighting fish we caught were quite different from the ones you see in the aquariums. Those they sell in the aquariums are Siamese fighting fish with bigger, more elegant fins and tails. Ours had smaller fins and tail. They are called betta imbellis, so I learned.



We would put our precious catch in tin cans and bring them home and transfer them to glass Horlicks bottles together with some water plants, usually the hydrilla, and keep them in a dark area, such as (don’t laugh) under our beds, to let them regain their bright colours.

What do we feed them? We usually catch tubifex worms from the nearby Kallang River. How? Please read my earlier story, ( Our Kampong). Alternatively, we use a spoon to scoop mosquito larvae, which were in ample supply, from nearby drains.

Then comes the cruel part where we would let our fishes fight by putting them into a bigger bottle. I am glad that kids nowadays are not so cruel.

This is a photo of me and my younger brother taken in the early 60's. Do you see the pond on our left? On our right is another pond where we catch the fighting fishes. I figure this spot is now right smack on the CTE.

Besides the punki, I also saw some other familiar objects like wooden badminton rackets and a mock-up of the community centre. I will blog about these another time.

Foreign Sports Talent Scheme

The table tennis team has done Singapore proud by winning 4 gold medals at the Commonwealth. Our sports officials are jubilant. The Straits Times sports editor declares “This is a vindication of the Foreign Sports Talent scheme”.

Nowadays, I don’t follow the sports news very closely. But, recent events in Melbourne have attracted my interest. Especially, I note the dismal performance of the Netball team in comparison with the peddlers. So I would like to share some thoughts. But it’s personal and should not be taken too seriously as I haven’t been following the debate about the FSTS closely.

I don’t like to pour cold water, but I must confess I have not been terribly excited by the excellent performance of the table tennis team because I understand a large number of them are not native Singaporeans. I must admit I could be behind time in this aspect.

Anyway, out of curiosity, I casually asked my family members what they thought of the FSTS, and these are their views.

1) My Kayaker Son. (He is captain of the ACS (I) kayaking team and fighting fish enthusiast)

He thinks that if the foreign athletes were brought in when they were still of school-going age, and educated in our schools, then it was alright. Otherwise, it would be like going to Thailand to buy the best fight fishes and entering them in a local competition and winning all the top prizes – it would not be very fair. If you bought the good quality fish fries and raised them up yourself then it is still acceptable.

2) My youngest daughter who hates sports. She thinks it’s alright. “After all Singapore likes to win wat”.

3) My teacher wife.

But then what about the local athletes like your kor-kor (elder brother). They train so hard and make many sacrifices to reach the top. What if the government says, our kayakers simply have no hope to compete against the Australians. Let’s bring in some foreign talents to represent Singapore. Wouldn’t that be very cruel to our own Singaporeans?

Incidentally, I am also somewhat puzzled by the remarks of one sport official who was interviewed on television last night. He said something to this effect. “Nowadays, our athletes are more competitive and compete to win.”

I find myself asking; “You mean the previous athletes like Patricia Chan and Water Polo teams were not ‘competitive’?”

My Stamp Collection - Part 2

Today, I am going to show a few more stamps of ‘extinct’ countries. But to make it more interesting, I will draft my post in the form of quiz questions. Those of you who read my blog regularly will know that I like to test the younger Singaporeans about history and heritage-related stuff. I usually ask those above 40 not to participate – in order not to embarrass them. Haha.

So here goes …

By the way, anyone remember our former PM's frequent exhortations to build a 'rugged society'?

Question No. 1 What was Singapore’s National Day - before 1963 that is?

Did you know that we were regarded as a 'state' of Malaya, like Johore or Penang?

Question No. 2

What was Sabah known as before they joined Malaysia?

Notice that they printed the words Sabah over North Borneo?

Question No. 3

Vietnam was a colony of which European power before independence?

In case you are not able to read the small print, it listed countries like Togo, Tunisia, Upper Senegal, Niger, Upper Volta, Vietnam, Wallis and Futuna Islands and many more.


Question No. 4

What was the name of this country? What is it known as now?



Looks like stamp collecting can be quite educational for of history and geography. Maybe some of the young friends reading this blog will be interested to take up this hobby and even form a stamps club in your school.