Snippets from Scaredy Cat's memory

Scaredy Cat. Not my name lah. Actually, don't bother to give me any name. Mao Mao, Meow Meow... You can call all you like. I will respond when I feel like it, hope that's ok with you? 

ACTUALLY, that's not my name. But my mistress likes to call me that, and pronounce it Scare-Re-Dy. Oh well, what's in a name. And just because I howled a little when a group of humans entered the house. I fled to the toilet because... well... I'm not sure why. It's instinct I guess.

Tell you the truth, I'm not comfortable with strangers these days. It comes with age I guess. I am now over a year old. Grown up.  I used to be fearless. For example, when I was about eight months old, I walked into this house like it's my "grand chogong's house" -- grandfather's house. And that's how I got adopted.

Before that, I don't really have much memory. Cat's memory is selective, in case you don't know. Anyway, my new master always thought I had strayed from a loving Malay family -- because I seemed to respond to words like "tidor" (sleep). My new master is a Cantonese and tried talking to me in this dialect. Er, not really my language.

Watching a video of myself at my former master's place.

I loved to jump around, take walks and chase birds -- and still do. One day, I was over enthusiastic about a couple of mynahs chirping at the window's ledge. And fell from the 10th floor, landing on the 5th floor's parapet. I dug my claws on to the concrete to prevent myself from falling further. I heard my master calling me from the window as he hurried away to get help. His neighbour from the 3rd floor lowered down a cat bag -- with some tidbits in it. Ah food, never refuse a good offer. And before I knew it, I was pulled up to safety, with a bit of cat food stuck on to my whiskers. They were kind enough to let me finish the last morsel. I was a little subdued over the experience. The next morning, I limped around a bit to get more sympathy. But soon, the whole episode was pushed to a far corner in my little cat brain.

Hark, who calls?

I was having a great time. Meowing in excitement over nothing, and jumping around furniture. I loved to play with my master's mouse and push my long tail in his face at the computer. That's when I got sent off to my current mistress' home. She's the sister. I protested like mad in her car -- all the way to my new home. I even hyperventilated. She kept telling me to "tidor". But I am afraid I don't know what that means. I yowled the whole night. The next morning, I was taken to the vet for a minor op. I vaguely heard the vet asking my mistress whether I was going to be a "kept" cat. If not, I would have one of my ears snipped at the tip. I heard the reply, something like "I guess so..."

It was over before I knew it. My new mistress took me home in the afternoon. I was too sleepy to protest over another car ride.

So now I live in an "apartment" -- not telling you whether it is a private apartment or HDB -- for good reasons. I continue to jump around but these days, I seldom come in contact with strangers, nor those birds which I love to chase so much. Sure, there were lots of things to chase on the floor -- crackling and rustling look-alike birds, mice, fish, and balls with tails. I like the balls with tails best. They are light and can be flung around to hit furniture legs.

BTW, I like doing this in the middle of the night, and in the early morning. If I am really irritating enough, I get tidbits to keep me quiet. But I learnt that if I do it too much, especially in the wee hours of the night, my toys get confiscated. So, you know, best not to push your luck too much.

Don't disturb, please.

 

Findings on a hill

You won't miss this temple -- it's at the mouth of Palmer Road.

ONE of the oldest temples in Singapore resides on a hill -- or rather, at the foot  of one called Mount Palmer. According to the Southeast Asian Archaelogy: Archaeology in Singapore, Mt Palmer was a former colonial military fort -- and the temple at the foot, faced the sea.

There's a little clump of a hill behind the temple -- what's left of Mt Palmer?

The temple, Fook Tet Soo (also known as the Wang Hai Da Bo Gong Temple), is the oldest Hakka institution in Singapore. It has its origins from a shrine which was believed to have been erected in 1819 (the year of Sir Stamford Raffles' arrival in Singapore). The actual temple was built in 1844 -- the oldest Tua Pek Kong (name of the deity) temple in the island.

I decided to pay this temple a visit on New Year's Day. Besides two or three devotees offering joss sticks to the deity for the period I was there -- there was also one very busy caretaker -- or at least I think he was one though he was dressed more like an office worker in white shirt and brown pants. Perhaps he was a volunteer worker. Anyway, he was very busy, running from one corner of the temple to another, either sweeping up some bits of litter and dust, or refilling prayer oil and putting more amulets in the glass case.

Remnant of a hill still backs the temple. But the shoreline is long gone. The little hill was part of the Parsi burial ground which was exhumed some time before 1966. The Parsis community of merchants lived around the area. No wonder, there is a Parsi Road opposite Palmer Road (separated by Shenton Way).

Devotees pray to Tua Pek Kong for protection.

Tua Pek Kong is a protector of the people. Before he was immortalised, he was a Mandarin (during the Zhou Dynasty) -- an official whose helping hand must be dearly appreciated by his countrymen. After he became a deity, the Jade Emperor sent him back to earth -- once again, to protect the people. Hence the first thing that immigrants from China on touching Singapore soil was to erect a Tua Pek Kong shrine so that the deity could look out for them.

According to some Chinese newspaper articles displayed at the temple, the deity does look after its people -- in more ways than one -- some devotees had made some money from lottery numbers given by the deity.

It must have guarded its land well too. This temple is one of the rare ones which had remained in its original location. In the past, many temples were re-sited due to development.

The Tiger God lives next door to the main temple. Countless wind chimes from devotees hung from the ceiling of his parlor. This deity is worshiped on the 6th and and 16th of every lunar month. People come to this deity for protection against threats and to ward off "bad hats". His mouth can apparently be appeased by devotees stuffing in raw pork, lard and eggs.

At the end of Palmer Road (a dead end) is another "find" -- Palmer House. It used to be old YMCA Metropolitan headquarters which later moved to Stevens Road in 1980. It was built in 1954 and sold in the late 1990s, renamed Palmer House.

For many years, a diving board belonging to the YMCA swimming pool, had remained as a vestige of the headquarters though the pool itself was long gone. One used to be able to see the top of this diving board still while travelling along the AYE on the way towards Changi Airport or the eastern part of the island. Couldn't remember when it too, fell with time.

Palmer Road was named after a merchant from Calcutta -- John Palmer. He later became bankrupt and sold off the land. Around the area is another "find" -- the Keramat Habib Noh, the tomb of Habib Noh bin Mohamed al-Habshi, a mystique. The Keramat (above) was built in 1890 by Syed Mohammed bin Ahmed Alsagoff.

Palmer House, No. 70, Palmer Road.

There's a coffee shop at the corner of Palmer House that was packed when I visited around lunch time. It must be a popular lunch time place, perhaps especially for drivers of FedEx vans, taxis and tour buses which were parked tightly side by side in the vicinity. Must give it a try some time.

More pictures of the Tua Pek Kong temple at Palmer Road:

Example of old Hakka architecture in Singapore.

The white horse in Chinese mythology stands for purity and success. In Journey to the West, the monk rode on a white horse that is faithful and loyal. Anyway, the Year of the Horse is about to gallop in.

The pair of door gods which guard the temple's entrance.

A parking attendant putting on her uniform and getting ready for duty at the Tiger God's abode. A vast carpark next to the temple (below), makes it convenient to devotees to visit the temple.

Findings in a valley

The Chua Village Temple at Jalan Kebaya, near Ghim Moh. By the way, if you'd watched the Ch 8 serial (9pm) on 16 Jan, you would have seen the wayang stage belonging to this temple, shown in a flashback featuring a puppeteer. You don't get to see such stages anymore in Singapore. 

SORRY, I borrowed this headline from a very old feature from Reader's Digest. But for me, this temple was indeed "findings in a valley".

Thanks to an article on the Chua Village Temple in "Historic Chinese Architecture in Singapore", I went in search of this temple in Pandan Valley on Christmas Day. According to the article, this temple was built in 1919, founded by a Chua Hu Fan who came to Singapore in 1904 from Anxi Province. The Chua clan built the small temple on a hill, worshiping the Tong Kong Zhen Ren deity. The Chua settlement was at Ulu Pandan, a swamp then known as Tua Kang Lai. But they turned the land into plantations and farms, making a living from the soil. The plots of land owned by the Chuas were eventually sold to developers in the 1970s. The temple however remained intact today at Jalan Kebaya (near Holland Grove and  Mt Sinai Road) surrounded by modern architecture. The Chuas had decided not to release the land the temple was sitting on.

The wooden wayang stage which has seen performances by Sin Sai Hong (oldest Hokkien opera troupe in Singapore) and  the Kim Eng Teochew Opera..

The peaceful temple nestles among modern condos and residential houses.

When I visited the temple on Christmas morning,  I found a spotlessly white Mercedes parked in its vicinity. There was soft chatter and laughter coming from the basement of the stage (one of the few surviving Chinese wayang stages in Singapore). Some laundry was hanging out to dry.  Maybe the caretaker lives there. A very good caretaker as the place was spic and span. Tiny roses and other plants decorated a very tidy row of flower bed.

I threw a dollar coin into a disused well in front of the stage before entering the main temple (encouraged by the many coins lying at the bottom). The  "pop, pop, pop" sound from a tennis game at the condominium next door seemed a bit incongruous -- not something one would usually hear near a temple. (But I like hearing the pop, pop, pop which reminded me of my own tennis days eons ago.)

I am not sure whether the altar featured the original deities brought over from Anxi. But it was said that besides the statue of Tong Kong Zhen Ren (which has healing power and powerful fengshui knowledge), there were four more deities -- Kuan Kong, Fan Hou Xian Shi, Fu Xi and Shen Nong. I think there is a dangki (temple medium)  this temple as I saw a trigram and other paraphernalia associated with one.

A bit of broken tile left behind in the garden of the temple.

Home for Christmas

Ho, ho, ho... let's go kai, kai!

WOOF! Hey, gate's open! Time for a roam old man, said the frisky black and white Shetland to the other -- an old "one-quarter" Alsatian -- totally black, half blind. They padded through the half-open gate which had just admitted an unwitting father-in-law. In a matter of seconds, they were out into the cool night air of Christmas. And were gone, as noiseless as a gentle breeze. (The Shetland is a regular visitor. The one-quarter Alsatian is a resident.)

So, after salad, after a heated squabble between the sister and brother, there was a little voice from the maid that went, "Sir, dogs missing."  The father-in-law (of the sister) had just finished saying grace, thanking God for the food, and the family reunion (but stopped short at praying for peace on earth and goodwill to all man as that would be alluding too much to the squabble which had just taken place).

Dad (of the squabbling sister and brother) was the first one to stand up and ran out. I was surprised at his speed and alacrity. The sister and her husband followed. The brother, who was still sulking, stayed behind with the mother and the father-in-law. I will keep the gates and door open for the dogs to come home, said the mother. They will come home, she assured us, as we also disappeared into the night.

Where could two dogs go? Lots of places. There was a dog run nearby, and another park frequented by joggers, brisk walkers and their dogs. But to get to these two places, they would have to cross roads, which they have not proven to be good at. Driving in two separate cars, we cruised around the area. No one seemed to have seen two dogs happily trotting with their tongues lolling out (which was my mental picture of them as I drove along, eyes peeled for black moving shadows.) The black one has been known for its escapades. But as he doesn't see very well these days, doesn't usually go very far -- usually to the junction where the lane meets the main road -- where he would just stand and sniff the air and then go home.

Dad said the young one must have goaded the elderly one on. Muttering "triple sian" (a Hokkien word he likes to use to describe a dire situation), we drove back to the canal where we had seen a group of workers gathered at the edge. It's the Shetland, he said, and hopped out of the car even before I could stop completely. Once again, I marvelled at his alacrity. I got down the car too, thinking the Shetland had fallen into the canal and the group of workers were trying to fish him out.

My brother returned, shaking his head. He had seen something white bobbing in the canal and thought it was the dog. The workers were doing some work at the canal, that's all.

We parked and started combing the park. I stopped to ask a jogger whether she had seen two dogs. Her eyes lighted up in hope for me -- she had seen two black dogs, just, she said. But we had also seen those two black knights -- one of them looked like our one-quarter Alsatian. But they were not our dogs. (The two black knights are actually quite well known in the area -- they are always together and trotting like they mean business -- the park patrol.) If the Shetland and the one-quarter Alsatian had met these two, they would be dead meat.

After speaking to the jogger, I lost sight of Dad. No use calling him as he has left his handphone at home. (Nobody brought their handphones along actually. Only me.)

A vast expanse of darkness in front -- and nobody in sight. The park had become deserted. Where could Dad have gone? We had a few missing dog episodes before. Each time he had rushed out to look, running too hard and getting himself all breathless and pale. Did he faint somewhere in the park?

Then I received another call from Mum, the harbinger of good news.. All have come home for Christmas, she said. Peace on earth, goodwill to all man... and dogs.

The Shetland had cleverly led the one-quarter Alsatian back to his own home (the sister and her husband's place) -- a little distance away actually -- quite a long walk for dogs. They had found him running around at their block, while the other dog was busy marking territory. They were asking the guard whether he had seen any dogs, but the guard said he hadn't. Just then, the sister caught a glimpse of something furry behind a pillar.

We had drove by twice, but each time we said no point going into the condo as the dogs couldn't be so clever. Well, never under estimate a Shetland.

Postnote:
The "one-quarter alsatian" moved on at the ripe old age of 16 on 5 Sept 2014. He will always be remembered by me as joyfully sniffing the air at the road junction.