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Photo credit: Tai Ngai Lung (for Jennifer Wong)
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MONGKOK, HONG KONG
Introduced by Jennifer Wong
We have lived for many years in Yaumatei, which is very close to Mongkok, and I remember going very often to Mongkok with my family. We enjoyed going there for many reasons: there are lots of independent shops selling affordable clothing and home goods, particularly the area near Lady Market Bazaar and Fa Yuen Street near the Mongkok MTR station. We also went there for grocery and food shopping, as the Mongkok wet market offers such fresh meats and vegetables, fruits and dried Chinese goods. Catching a glimpse of the shop sign Pat Chun Sweet Vinegar always reminds me of the classic TV ad song: “red egg, pork trotters vinegar, Pat Chun sweet vinegar is the best”. Whether it is a fruit stall lit by the traditional red lamps or a Chinese pastry shop, in Mongkok you can find tradition and folk customs. It is also one of the places where the protests took place: the sheer number of people who were there. At the same time, just a street block away, you see such trendy buildings and shops selling the latest gadgets, computers and the trendiest trainers. For those who have watched Hong Kong films, you can also recognise it as a classic setting for many popular action films.
Mongkok, or, “Crowded Corner”
The song you’ll never forget / about sweet vinegar / its miraculous properties / people will queue for ages / for a bowl of ramen / a box of gong-so cookies / for the spiciest fishballs / or sticker cards from Sino Centre / you are one of them / wading across an ocean / to cross these streets / know that a red minibus means speed / or danger / the old man sells / bananas, oranges / and on a seasonal basis / dragon fruit or long-yan / reads the Horse-racing Post for betting tips / no, there’s no garden in Fa Yuen Street / and round the corner / the trendiest people you can spot / with their cropped t-shirts and naive dreams / filling the entire Sneakers street / in times of peace / they used to look forward to / hotpot dinner gatherings / you are one of them too / wading across an ocean / the songs you’ll never forget / about sweet vinegar / about anger / or more
by Jennifer Wong
Mongkok
The giant bananas like spiders eye
the wife biscuits and their wivesthe pig commands:
look at me like caramelised char siewthe duck says: I’ve waited so long
even my neck is longthe mooncake harbours in its centre
a deep and ancient cursethe century egg is writing
creepy chain emailsinside the vinegar rests
a mildly introverted ghosta pot of piping telephone porridge
boilsthe sneakers scream: I am the last stage
of imperialismbags of goldfish explode
in my made-up faceat the street corner I remove my organs
and juggle them for loose change.
by Daryl Lim Wei Jie
KALLANG RIVER AND CHWEE KANG BEO, SINGAPORE
Introduced by Daryl Lim Wei Jie
This neighbourhood has been very significant in my life: my maternal grandparents and parents have lived in the area for years, and it’s a site of early settlement in Singapore. My first book of poetry, A Book of Changes, explores the history of the area — it was where early nomadic people lived (the Orang Kallang); it was the site of Singapore's first gasworks, the Kallang Gasworks; and it was where the race riots of 1964 began. It was through telling the history of this area that I discovered a voice that empowered me to also tell my familial and personal history, interweaving these histories into a more variegated and subjective story that complicates the national narrative: for example, during the race riots of '64, my grandpa fled from the carnage with my mum (then an infant) in his arms. From the photograph you can see an adorable small temple that I’ve grown to love, the Chwee Kang Beo, and also newer attractions in the Marina Bay Area (the Marina Bay Sands and the Singapore Flyer) attesting to Singapore’s development. It’s an area that I still come by often — and I have fond memories of dates by the riverside, and drinking wine out of plastic cups by the temple.
Kallang
by Daryl Lim Wei Jie
Dreaming of Kallang
Kallang: the vowels of Singapore’s longest river in my mouth
Kallang on Coleman’s map in 1835
orang kallang: boat-dwellers who once lived in the swamps
such shimmering, veiled body of water at night
and the tributaries of other people’s love stories
there, the ‘water river’ temple that I never went
its turquoise and vermilion roof
the incense, the unanswered prayers
and the dragons there—impatient with history—
will start growling any minute and spring into life
and in the films you watch,
catch glimpses of Kallang:
grown more beautiful, more
irreplaceable and closer than you remember it
