“Suay, suay, suay! Tell you, suay what!” Ah Gu said with a grim face. “Gar’ment should not have stopped all the luck that comes from firing firecrackers at Chinese New Year!”
“Hey, Ah Gu,” Uncle Krishnan tried to pacify him, taking over my father’s task in previous years. “Cannot say like that one. The short circuit could have happened any time. Even if we were allowed to fire firecrackers for Chinese New Year.”
“Ya, but your people don’t believe in Feng Shui!” Ah Gu rebutted. “Ours do!”
Singapore’s First Chingay
(1973)
PERHAPS, the Prime Minister had heard the murmurs circulating. Much of the Chinese population was attributing the country’s disasters in 1972 to the bad luck brought about by the lack of sound and noise due to the banning of firecrackers during Chinese New Year. Though the Prime Minister could have dismissed such talk as merely superstition and ignored the situation entirely, he didn’t. He was not insensitive. After all, Prime Minister Lee was himself a Peranakan Chinese and was raised in a Peranakan home. He would be aware of tradition and would have been brought up with the notion that noise drove away evil spirits. His own mother was a renowned Peranakan cook whose book, Mrs Lee’s Cookbook, was a bestseller in Singapore. But he had to shoulder the responsibility of a nation, and could not reinstate the firing of firecrackers when so many properties had been burnt, and so many people had been injured or had died on account of it. Instead, he came up with a plan to bring back all the pomp and gaiety that had been associated with Chinese New Year. He would expand the tong tong chir sound and make it into a longer event, which would have all the right sounds, noise and music.
Thus, Singapore had its first Chingay for Chinese New Year 1973, to welcome in the Lunar Year of The Water Ox.
“Chingay”. The Hokkien word was fairly representative of the Mandarin words, “Zhuang Yi”, which refers to the art of costume and masquerade. The two Chinese characters, “ching” and “gay” are in Min Nan dialect which includes Teochew and Hokkien, and meant the art of decorating or making up. Chingay originated in China as a street procession in honour of Chinese deities, and specifically of the Goddess of Mercy, Kuan Yin.
The first Chingay procession in our part of the world was in 1905 in George Town, Penang, which transformed it from a religious procession to a street parade of good cheer, similar to the world-famous riotous Rio Carnival, with bursts of colour, floats, music, song and dance. Penang was the first in our region to hold a competition for the best decorated float. Although Johor Bahru had a similar street procession, theirs remained strictly religious and was called You Shen or Parade of the Deities.
Prime Minister Lee must have thought that such a parade would compensate for the lack of noise due to the firecracker ban. It would be free for everyone to enjoy, including the non-Chinese. As the Prime Minister was also the Chairman of the PA, it was appropriate for him to expedite the programme for February to welcome in the new Lunar Year. For its first Chingay, the PA teamed up with the Singapore National Pugilistic Federation so that there could be a greater variety of performances, from martial arts, dancers to stilt-walkers.
“You heard or not? Singapore’s going to have its first Chingay procession!” Ah Gu said with uncharacteristic joy. “It will be on 4 February lah. The parade will start from Jalan Besar and will move along to Outram Park.”
“Chingay? What is Chingay?” Karim asked.
“Oh, that’s good,” Mak said. “Very positive lah. Must go to shake off this cloak of sadness that surrounds our village.”
But there was no one to look after Robert, so Mak could not come with us. It would be too challenging to carry Robert in a crowd, though he would have enjoyed the sounds and music. Although he was not large, he was quite gangly and heavy. Mak was getting older and more fragile. She had problems trying to give him a bath, so Third Elder Brother and I often helped her, conveying Robert to the communal bathroom. Someone had to hold him whilst the other soaped and washed his wasted body. For one so bereft, he was such a bundle of joy, giggling when the soap was lathered all over his emaciated body. You remember some people because they were kind or good, and some who were miserable all the time. In the case of Robert, every time I think of him, I recall his laughter and smiles.
Jalan Besar was only a few bus stops away from Potong Pasir, so it was relatively easy for us to get there. Karim and Uncle Krishnan and his family came along with Third Elder Brother and his new girlfriend, plus my two younger sisters. How Third Elder Brother had managed to hook a girl from the posh Bukit Timah residential area was a mystery to us. It must be his caring ways and charm. But Sister-In-Law-To-Be was a lovely girl and did not put on any airs. Our resident goatherd, Sivalingam,
