Walking through the tombstones of the the Old Protestant Cemetery provides an interesting peek into Penang's colonial past. In use from 1789 to 1892, the people laid to rest on this hallowed ground represent a sampling of the expat groups that called Prince of Wales Island, as Penang was known back then, their home.
Moving to a new country can be an overwhelming challenge and having family there that you can rely on eases the transition and provides community. That's the case now, and it was even more true in the pre-internet days when long distance communication was harder. Because of Confucianism, Chinese culture has a big emphasis on filial piety (i.e. respect for one's parents and ancestors) and by extension, supporting the family clan. Historically, Chinese who immigrated to a new country settled down where their clan had already begun establishing roots so that they wouldn't be alone. Within each Chinatown, clan associations sprouted up to serve as a benevolent organization for family members.
Penang's UNESCO World Heritage Site in George Town is not simply the colonial era structures that make up the area. It is also the confluence of people that go about daily life in this town. Tucked in among the crowds are aging tradesmen practicing their craft just as it's been done for generations -- heritage trades to go with this heritage site. Making joss sticks, songkoks, chops, baskets and signboards the traditional way is a vanishing art. In a the next decade or two, will these still be practiced in the real world or will they be relegated to mere demonstrations in a cultural village set up for tourists?
Last month, my friend and I joined Spiral Synergy's Trishaw Trades Trail for a tour of Penang's endangered trades. Both of us squeezed into one trishaw (a bicycle-powered, three-wheeled rickshaws) and followed the caravan throughout George Town.
Riding trishaws through (top) Little India, (bottom) past Chinese temples and in front of shophouses.
The Joss Stick Maker
Joss sticks, also called incense, are an important part of Chinese culture
Joss sticks (incense) burning with their aromatic smoke rising up to the sky are a ubiquitous part of Penang's Chinese culture. These smoke signals convey people's wishes for Good Luck, Prosperity, Fortune and other longings to the gods above. You see them in front of temples but also at the small shrines found everywhere throughout the city in homes, at the back of a shop or restaurant, next to buildings, or even in parking lots. I imagine that the market for joss sticks must be huge. However, they're now mostly imported from China where they're mass produced and made of inferior materials.
One man, Lee Beng Chuan, who is well into his 80s still makes joss sticks the traditional way as he's been doing for decades since he left school after World War II. Back then, he taught himself this trade by observing workers in Penang's joss stick factories. Using a paste of fragrant Australian sandalwood and sticky terja tree powder from Kuantan, he molds each one by hand around a bright stick then leaves them out to dry in the sun for two days. The work is slow and doesn't pay much. No one is in line to take his place, so when Mr. Lee is done, that will be the end of making joss sticks by hand in historic George Town.
Penang's last Traditional Joss Stick Maker
Watch this video for a look at the making of one of Mr. Lee's last big creations, a 12-foot-tall, magenta Dragon Joss Stick pillar crafted for a Chinese New Year celebration.
Chop Me
You'll often hear Malays use the word "chop" to mean "stamp." So when someone holds out a receipt and asks you to "Chop me" what he really wants is your official stamp or seal. Don't pull out an axe for goodness sakes! For the Chinese, a chop is an official personal seal that stands in place of a signature.
Custom made chops or stamps and a tin of cinnabar ink paste
Penang's chop maker imports his decorative stone chops from China. Pick one out and flip through his display book to pick out what character style you would like for him to carve on to the bottom. Don't have a Chinese name? He can help you figure out one that sounds like your Western one. This is laborious, precision work requiring a magnifying glass and small tools. Nowadays, most people seem to instead opt for easy rubber stamps from an office supply company.
The Chop Maker and his densely cluttered shop
Looking for a Sign
Like the rest of the world, Penang is going modern with printed signs or even high-tech, flashing LED ones. Hand-carved signboards, a tradition brought over from China, are slowly becoming part of the past. Most are painted with gold characters on a typically black but occasionally red or green background.
Signboard Shop
Spiral Synergy is holding a signboard carving class on June 18, 2013 if you want to try your hand at this age old craft.
One signboard in the works
Weaving Baskets
Seang Hin Leong is a living part of Penang's UNESCO World Heritage and has a big banner from the city honoring the patriarch heading this shop to prove it.
Taking a mid-morning break from the work of weaving baskets
Wandering through the shophouse packed with goods, I am reminded of Cost Plus World Market or Pier 1 in the USA. The difference is that these pieces are made by hand by the very people staffing the store. There's everything from giant baskets big enough to hold bushels of durian on the back of a motorbike to decorative boxes perfect for dressing up a box of facial tissue. Spiral Synergy also organizes basket weaving classes here sometimes.
The Songkok Maker
Songkoks are a type of Islamic male headwear similar to a pillbox-style hat or a squat fez minus the tassel. Sadly, the songkok maker, Haja Mohidin, was not at his shop when our group of trishaws pulled up. However, his neighbor who has a key was kind enough to open this store tucked into the side of the Nagore Shrine.
A songkok sits next to a manual sewing machine.
The retro sewing machine is what caught my eye immediately. I couldn't believe that this is what he uses to make about five songkoks by hand each day. Haja Mohidin first learned the skill from his father, a Mamak or Muslim Tamil, when he was only 12 years old and has been doing it for almost 50 years. The hats we saw were velvety on the outside with a colorful satin lining the inside. Newspaper or cardboard provide the internal structure to stiffen the sides of the hat. Malay men can buy ready-made songkoks from many stores now, but those who want a custom fit go to Mr. Mohidin. They sell for 10 to 30 ringgits (US$3.30 to US$10) each.
His uncle used to own another songkok making store next door but has since closed. He is now training his son-in-law to take over, so this trade will perhaps continue in Penang for at least another generation.
Going Back
I thoroughly enjoyed this tour of the living heritage of George Town. It also included a visit to Penang's Warehouse Row which I covered in a previous post. My only regret is that I did not have enough room in the trishaw for large purchases. So, I'll be heading back to some of these places when I have more time to browse at my leisure and also a car to carry everything home in.
This post is part of Travel Photo Thursday on Budget Travelers Sandbox and "Oh the Places I've Been" on The Tablescaper. Check them out for more around-the-world travel inspiration.
Fancy Chinese New Year lanterns at the upscale mall
Believe or not, Austin, Texas does not have a very big Chinese New Year celebration. (In your head, I should sound slightly sarcastic.) Each year, I'd scope out the events at the Austin Chinatown Center shopping mall in hopes that the kids and I could catch a Dragon or Lion Dance. But something like a basketball game or birthday party always came up during the few hours that the celebration lasted.
Chinese New Year festivities were something that I really looked forward to when we moved to Malaysia. Penang is about 40% Chinese, so I figured something must happen. Boy, does it.
For the first two days, many stores and restaurants are closed so people can be with their families. The malls stay open and decorate everything in red and gold. Lanterns are strung up crossing over streets.
The fireworks go on night after night. The first time we heard the loud pops, we all rushed to the windows to take a look. Since we're high up, all the displays were below us. Looking out over the hills of Penang, we could pick out many different spots that were shooting them off. The fireworks were still worthy of our attention for the next few nights. After a while, we wouldn't even bother to look out anymore. On the ninth day, offerings are made to the Jade Emperor of Heaven. The fireworks that night were INSANE and more numerous than New Year's Eve. They started just before midnight and went on for 3 hours. We wanted to yell, "Enough already!! Just let us sleep!"
Who needs sleep? The Jade Emperor of Heaven must be appeased.
Dragon Dances pop up everywhere. Instead of a singing telegram of good wishes, people get a bunch of young men hopping around with a huge dragon draped over them. One afternoon, I heard incessant drumming and looked out the window to figure out its source. A dragon danced out of a nearby house, did their performance, then dashed away. I've seen them outside a doctor's office on a very congested street. At least I had something to look at while stuck in traffic. I even saw a dragon dance performed for the security office of an underground parking lot. Let me tell you, those big drums really reverberate in that kind of concrete area.
This dragon was little different because it was a giant multiperson puppet on poles.
Usually, the dragon is draped over the people, and just their legs stick out.
There was a huge Chinese Heritage Festival in the historic area last weekend in conjunction with the New Year Celebrations. I think my boys' favorite part was playing Wei Qi (Chinese Chess).
Fifteen days after they started, the festivities will come to an end in Malaysia with Chap Go Meh, nicknamed Chinese Valentine's Day. Unmarried ladies scribble their name and email address or telephone number on oranges and hurl them into the ocean. Eligible bachelors fish out the oranges and make contact. Doesn't that sound like a great set up for a reality TV show? I really think someone needs to pitch it to Hollywood.
Some mornings, I like to explore George Town which was named after King George III. You remember him, don't you? Thirteen years after American colonists ticked off both their king and the East India Company by dumping tea into Boston Harbor, some Brits landed on Penang Island and said, "Come on over here!!" Hey, you win some. You lose some.
Like most old cities, the streets are narrow and tightly lined with buildings. There's a mix of residences, shops, eateries and businesses. Walking down the covered sidewalks, I'll pass a busy restaurant, then a closed shop, then a family home where everyone is sitting around the TV just a few feet inside the open front door. At times, it's quiet, and I feel like I'm alone in the world. Other times, my ears are assaulted by the cacophony of honking horns and puttering scooters.
Love Lane is one of Penang's oldest streets. Prosperous families settled here in the early 1800s.
I have no idea what this place is, but I liked the entrance.
Located within the UNESCO World Heritage Site, there are lots of Western tourists wandering around along with me. Some are brave enough to ride the trishaws. Personally, I prefer walking since I can quickly jump out of the way when a car or scooter zooms by, mere inches away from me.
Built in the 1860s, the Cathedral of the Assumption is a World Heritage Church and was the seat of the Bishop of Penang from 1955-2003.
Some of the buildings are old and in need of a little TLC, but I love the bright colors and trim.
Others, like this relatively new block built in 1927, have been recently renovated.
If you visit Penang and want a quieter place than my home,
this is a wonderful boutique hotel called Coffee Atelier.
A few families have a rare, free-standing house.
They should have had the decency to cover their satellite dish in cloisonne.
This is one of the more modest Chinese clan association buildings in Penang. The rest deserve their own post (but I need to visit them first).
I was breakfasting across the street when the cafe proprietress
exclaimed, "Come out and look at the sky!"
I know I have more meandering to do in the future. Stay tuned!
One day, I woke up and decided I needed to explore Little India. The kids were at school. Our shipment still had not arrived at that point. I had nothing to do. So, I programmed it into my GPS, and off I went. As I made my way into town, the streets narrowed until I found myself in historic George Town, a UNESCO World Heritage Site. As if on cue, I heard the Bollywood music blasting from the stores at the same instant my GPS announced, "You have reached your destination." I parked, got out of the car, and all my senses told me I was in Little India.
The rich aroma of curries and spices wafted over me, making my mouth water in anticipation. Silky saris beckoned to be touched. Dazzling arrays of trinkets and jewelry caught my eye. Garlands of bright marigolds hung just outside a flower shop.
I was surrounded by stores catering to the Indian community in Penang. Some places offered to ship packages door-to-door from Penang to India. That only made me think longingly of my household shipment which was slowly drifting towards me somewhere in the South China Seas. Video stores displayed racks and racks of Indian DVDs. While these stores were the source of the Bollywood music, others counteracted with classical Indian music, also turned all the way up to 11. Interspersed here and there were stray Chinese temples and shops. As I was taking it all in, my phone rang. Oh joyous day! The propane delivery man would be by in a couple hours to bring me more cooking fuel.
Brad had been asking for a blanket to cover him while he watched TV. Really??? Who needs a blanket when it's 86F inside the living room? I decided to humor him and ducked into the sari shop where I purchased a 4-meter-long silk sari for only US$8.50.
All the delicious smells were making me hungry. The sidewalk food stand was quite popular with a lot of the tourists. They were so densely packed around it that I really had to elbow my way in to see what was being offered.
Since I wanted to get off my feet while dining, I continued on my way. The much acclaimed Kapitan restaurant was across a busy intersection, but I doubted that I would actually live long enough to enjoy lunch if I attempted to cross the road on foot. So, I ended up at another, less treacherous, open air Indian restaurant. There was so much to see as I sat and ate my meal. The cooks pulled food from the tandoori oven strategically placed on the sidewalk to draw people in. Others were deep frying papadums inside the restaurant. Those looked so good, that I requested some for Take Away. (In this former British colony, people don't ask for food "To-Go". They ask for "Take Away".)
I watched the late summer tourists ambling around the streets. They were easy to spot because they were all carrying their Lonely Planet guidebooks and Visit George Town folded maps. That's when it hit me -- I'm not a tourist here. This is my home. I don't have just a few hours to explore this wonderous place. I can keep coming back and do it at a leisurely pace. Plus, I've dawdled too long over lunch and must now rush home to meet the propane delivery man. That's not something you do on vacation.
