Offerings for the dearly departed

I have a new hobby during the 7th Lunar Month - observing altars set up in public for wandering spirits, and taking photos of them as a permanent record of a vernacular religion.

This altar was at the ground floor of Bras Basah Complex, set up by the building’s business association.

An altar along Lorong 25 Geylang.

Another altar along Lorong 25 Geylang. This altar had offerings on the left for child and baby spirits - there were sweets, drinks, snacks, and even paper clothing.

Along Aljunied Road.

At Sims Vista Market & Food Centre.

At Serangoon Central Drive.

The altar above also had offerings for child and baby spirits, tucked below the table.

At Block 79 and 79A Circuit Road Food Centre.

The food centre’s altar also included a rare statue of Da Shi Ye, a disciplinarian of the Chinese netherworld. He oversees the spirits of the netherworld and ensures they do not harm the living.

I was delighted with this find because it is not common to find Da Shi Ye in deity form anywhere, be it temples or altars.

What’s fascinating is that usually, no two altars are entirely similar.

According to Taoist priests, an altar for wandering spirits must have specific items such as incense, flowers, and a form of illumination, be it candles or lamps.

However, at the grassroots level, these “rules” are not strictly followed. The people who set up altars, who could be hawkers, business owners, association members, and so on, add items which they feel wandering spirits would like. They include food sold at hawker centres, coffee and beer, pineapples, and huat kueh (prosperity cakes).

Even the colours of the joss sticks and crockery used are not strictly adhered to. For wandering spirits, green joss sticks and white plates and cups should be offered, while red joss sticks and crockery are reserved for deities and one’s ancestors. And yet red is applied to many altars for wandering spirits, perhaps because red is seen as an auspicious colour.

Anyway, in the realm of vernacular religion, one can’t say for sure what’s “right” and what’s “wrong”. To believers, they practise what’s passed down from generation to generation - and that’s what matters.

Moving Dakota Crescent

“If we’re interested in building a strong society with tight-knit communities, we should be paying special attention to the way we preserve and rebuild communities if we have to move them.”

A CNA Insider article on the impact of relocation on Dakota Crescent’s senior citizens.

Credit: Channel NewsAsia.

A sober reminder that when urban resettlement takes place, it is lives - not digits on a spreadsheet - that are irrevocably affected.

And the little things do matter - like the negative effect of not having the original community centre move with the elderly to the new site, or not catering a large enough void deck for gatherings and funerals, or failing to take into account how a simple 10-minute walk to key amenities can be a monumental challenge for an 80-year-old with weak legs.

As Singapore ages in both infrastructure and population, more old estates will undergo redevelopment and resettlement, and more senior citizens will have to uproot and move. Hopefully, the authorities will learn from the mistakes made at 52 Cassia Crescent.

Bringing back the mobile services

As Singapore’s bid to fully vaccinate its population - especially seniors aged 60 and above - against COVID-19 go into overdrive, the authorities are taking a page from the kampung days.

For weeks, the Ministry of Health has been dispatching mobile vaccination teams to dozens of locations around the island, from Woodlands to Bukit Merah, Jurong West to Tampines. They set up shop in void decks and community clubs, bringing jabs to the masses.

Credit: The Straits Times.

There are also 11 home vaccination teams, visiting seniors who are unable to leave their homes.

Two #IGotMyShot trucks, armed with loudspeakers, ply the same areas as the mobile vaccination teams, broadcasting pre-recorded messages in the four official languages and other Chinese languages, calling on the unvaccinated to get their shots. An emcee in each truck provides information such as specific locations and operating hours of mobile vaccination teams.

Credit: Ong Ye Kung, Facebook.

This harks back to the 1950s, 60s, and 70s, when it was common for the authorities to send mobile teams into the rural areas to provide essential services to villagers.

Retrofitted trucks and vans braved the island’s rural roads to reach the most remote of villages. They provided cheap or free medical treatment and check-ups such as x-rays for tuberculosis, postal services, library services, replacement and issuing of identity cards, and so on. These absolved villagers of the need to travel long distances to the City.

A Health Department mobile dispensary, donated by the Rotary Club, in 1951.

Credit: Ministry of Information and the Arts Collection, courtesy of National Archives of Singapore.

Credit: Ministry of Information and the Arts Collection, courtesy of National Archives of Singapore.

The mobile dispensary serving students of Bukit Panjang Government School, which was deep in the rural regions at the time.

Credit: Bukit Panjang Government School Collection, courtesy of National Archives of Singapore.

A Government travelling dispensary in 1963.

Credit: Ministry of Information and the Arts Collection, courtesy of National Archives of Singapore.

Credit: Ministry of Information and the Arts Collection, courtesy of National Archives of Singapore.

Credit: Ministry of Information and the Arts Collection, courtesy of National Archives of Singapore.

Mobile x-ray units to combat tuberculosis, 1964.

A mass x-ray campaign at Joo Chiat Community Centre, 1966.

Credit: Ministry of Information and the Arts Collection, courtesy of National Archives of Singapore.

In 1967, Member of Parliament for Moulmein Avadai Dhanam Lakshimi (the wife of Singapore’s third President, Devan Nair) launched a mobile x-ray campaign in her constituency.

Credit: Ministry of Information and the Arts Collection, courtesy of National Archives of Singapore.

Mobile skin clinics to fight leprosy, 1965.

Mobile identity card services, 1957.

Mobile library services, 1967.

A mobile postal services van, 1963.

Credit: Ministry of Information and the Arts Collection, courtesy of National Archives of Singapore.

These vehicles were far cheaper than building a new hospital or post office, and their “touring” schedules could be adjusted according to needs on the ground.

From the 1970s, as villagers were resettled en-masse to self-contained New Towns, and as Singapore’s rural areas shrank, these mobile services were gradually phased out. But we are living in unprecedented times now. Old ways sometimes work in the present. 2021’s mobile vaccination teams have successfully reached thousands of people.