Farewell Ghosts, Selamat Hari Raya

Friday night marked the (temporary) demise of hungry ghosts, fed for the last time this lunar year. The 55 gallon oil drums around Boundary Ville emitted desultry threads of acrid smoke, stuffed with ashes of burnt fake money. Joss sticks and food offerings lined the edges of virtually all sidewalks throughout the neighborhood, as ethnic Chinese Singaporeans cajoled the hungry ghosts back to the underworld. Walk carefully between the altars, neighbors reminded me, never over or through them--bad luck to do that. No big parties Friday night, the month of offerings just quietly wrapped up. Making too much of a fuss on the last night is bad form. It's okay earlier in the month, but at the end, too much attention might encourage greedy ghosts to dawdle. Better to be respectful but low key, as the ghosts depart until next year. By Saturday morning, no evidence of ghosts or offerings to them remained. They had disappeared like...

One great thing about Singapore's four large and distinctive ethnic groups is that chances are pretty good that at least one will be celebrating something at any given time. This weekend's big celebration is Hari Raya Puasa, the end of the Muslim fasting month of Ramadan. Holidays here are carefully apportioned among the four main religious groups: Buddhists, Christians, Muslims and Hindus. Each group gets two public holidays; everyone seems to celebrate all of them. Hari Raya Puasa is a public holiday (it falls on Sunday this year, celebrated Monday), that helps me not so much--I have a Tuesday through Friday teaching schedule. Still, I'll be happy to be festive on Monday, in solidarity with Singaporeans enjoying the day off!

Ramadan is when all healthy adult Muslims are expected to fast and deprive themselves during the day so that they can understand the plight of the less fortunate. As fasting month draws to a close, the Malay community gears up with preparations for the new year--busy cleaning house, buying new clothes and household items, and creating special foods for celebrations. For Muslim kids, this is a time when parents are especially generous, so it is pretty festive. The several days after Ramadan are particularly joyous, spent feasting and visiting with family and friends, asking and giving forgiveness and being thankful for blessings.


Acquiring the trappings associated with the end of Ramadan/the first day of Eid-ul Fitr creates demand for traditional holiday goods. One place to get them is a pasar malam, or night market. These are itinerant vendors who set up shop (often in tents) sometimes once a week for a night or two, sometimes once a month for several nights, moving from neighborhood to neighborhood. Pasar malams have everything from soup to nuts. Buy fresh food and groceries, or meals to take home. Buy shoes, a cell phone holder, or a broom. My students tell me they also specialize in stalls that sell ramly burgers, but I haven't encountered those yet (I don't think).


The traditional Malay neighborhood of Singapore, Geylang Serai is the great local grandaddy of night markets, running for the whole period of Ramadan and beyond. Its pasar malam features acres of makeshift tents with tipsy turvy plywood floors, signalling the coming festive season. Neighborhood streets are bridged not only by the ubiquitous Singapore pedestrian overpasses (with their signature splashes of bougainvilla softening the concrete structures) but also by twinkling blue and gold lights spanning busy streets, thronged with cars and pedestrians. It is a luminous spectacle, and my pictures certainly don't do it justice.

Geylang Serai would be very busy Saturday night, but I wasn't quite prepared for the crowds. When I arrived around 7 pm (just before sunset, when most Muslims had yet to break fast), the numbers were probably in the hundreds, with the market easy to walk around--with tilting and uneven plywood kept in mind--and not uncomfortably hot, what with the sun almost down. By 8 pm, people were thousands upon thousands, adding to both the heat and the din. I dressed modestly (when don't I? but I wore a long sleeved shirt) in case I happened upon a mosque I'd be comfortable entering and having the iftar (the break fast evening meal, which strangers are traditionally welcomed to join). Sadly, I didn't pass one in my meander. Only rows and rows and rows of brightly lit temporary shops. Many of the shopkeepers broke fast in their stalls, first eating a date and taking some water. That was generally followed by prayer, right there, before finally tucking in for some more substantial and yummy concoctions from plastic takeaway boxes or paper wraps. Then attention turned back to the prosaic pulse of commerce and customers.

There was a bewildering array of "stuff" for sale. Colorful artificial flowers and lights and brightly colored kids toys were popular items, maybe because they were affordable. The Straits Times reported that Singaporeans were being cautious about spending during Hari Raya this year--much like newspapers back home reported the downturn in Christmas shopping last, consumer spending here is a barometer for people's confidence in the strength of the economy.

Lots of cookie-type sweets and glutinous rice in several different traditional forms of palm leaf packaging were on sale. All manners of traditional Malay/muslim garb (for men and women) and modern clothing were being sold. So too were sponges and teacups, carpets (from beautiful persians to astroturf) and rice cookers, textiles and tires...anything that can be imagined was offered in some stall. I was especially capitvated by the intricate and colorful women's clothing. Many of the outfits were traditional Malay tunics and underskirts. Others were long-sleeved, fitted blouses with embroidery and beads, atop ankle length straight skirts. I noticed row of mannequins hanging from the superstructure of one of the tents, gazing dispassionately (as only dummies can!) at the throngs passing below, attired in that beautifully made, heavily sequined clothing.
There was so much stuff in the Geylang Serai night market, I couldn't buy anything. I always get paralyzed by too much choice.

I recalled that I was looking for balls to throw at students. If I couldn't find them here, they don't exist in Singapore. I finally found BUNCHES of them--but there were way too many, and the vendor didn't want to break up a package. I couldn't buy them all, students might throw them back at me! In a way the balls were indicative of the whole experience--too many balls, too many people, too much stuff, too claustrophobic, too noisy, too much to take in at once.

I dithered. I was hot. I was hungry. Which way would I walk next? Well, for sure with the crowd, it was the only way to move. It made me think of pilgrimages to Mecca, the faithful walking together in the Haj. The crowd in the market had a direction and pace of its own, and that seemingly single-minded community was not an easy one to leave. Where did I want to go? What did I want to see? Was it just wherever the crowd took me? Only for a few minutes, it was hot and close, too close for my comfort.

I finally managed to extricate myself from the pedestrian conga line, and watched several women apply henna to hands with incredible speed--about 3 minutes per hand--for intricate beautiful designs. I considered getting it done, then decided against...I wasn't sure whether that was a cultural practice with ritual significance that might offend come students back in the classroom (probably not, but better safe than sorry, I thought, recalling the funeral). Plus, I didn't know how long it would take to get it off.

I've decided that I'll try to go back to the Geylang Serai pasar malam some evening this week, before the night merchants fold their tents and go home 'til next year. On the first excursion, there was just no way to take it all in...I simply didn't know where to look or go next. And I was somewhat distracted by my hunt for an iftar opportunity or Malay curry for dinner. Next time I can dispense with the long sleeves, with no likelihood of dining in a mosque (drat, missed opportunity) and I'll try to arrive earlier to get my bearings first, and to pay more attention to see both the mundane and unusual in that scene.

In the meantime, Selamat Hari Raya , have a peaceful and prosperous year.