Lynne and I were coming back from a morning of sightseeing down by Singapore's harbourfront, and had just hopped off the bus near my flat. Lynne (who coincidentally is teaching a sociology of death and dying course this fall) looked over her shoulder and said "would you look at that".
There it was, bigger than life, a great big banner, strung up by the void deck of an HDB building, offering discount coffins!
Despite the misnomer, void decks are just the opposite of places devoid of activity. Some is strictly social, but lots is commercial, including the junk collector, the otah salesman (who moves through the complex like clockwork, selling his meals from a box on the back of his bike) and of course, the "mama" shops. But even I thought, now I've seen everything, discount caskets at an HDB estate with many elderly residents, how efficiently Singaporean!
Of course, I had to get a picture. I zoomed my camera and snapped. By that time, Lynne had already left the sidewalk for a closer look, wanting to see a coffin sales showroom in the sheltered space beneath an apartment building. I probably muttered something profound like "only in Singapore. Cool or what?"
I've been snapping shots of strange or entertaining signs all semester. It would be hard to guess how many chances I'd have to get this one, since void deck activities often have that "here today, gone tomorrow" insouciance. Despite the light drizzle, I thought, I'd better take this now while I can, adding one more sign trophy to my growing collection. I also realized I could take the photo without the palm frond in the way if I just followed Lynne.
As we got closer I thought to myself, "I can add photos of the discount caskets to my other growing collection (a set of photos of "void deck" activities and objects)...how cool will that be? This will be one of my most unusual void shots of all. So I moved in for some closer shots. Last week, the same space had been the site of a Muslim wedding. I hung around at a discreet distance, hoping that someone would notice and invite me to see more, up close, but no one did. So I didn't get any photos of that wedding. But commercial ventures in public spaces, those I always regard as fair game.
"Hey Lynne...don't you think they went to an awful lot of trouble for not very much merchandise?" I snapped another photo, this time of the rather attractive pedestals that funeral operators provide for local flower arrangements.
Skimpy though, there sure didn't seem to be much merchandise and from that vantage point I could see the edge of a shiny black coffin peaking out tent that was blocking my view of the other merchandise. That would be my next shot.
It was about that time when a very pleasant young woman (who I later learned was named Debbie) approached and asked if she could help us, or if we were there to pay our respects to her grandmother. Oh dear.
So that was how, as that frisson of embarrassment ratcheted up into the wave of "oh no, I've done it again" feeling, I could I possibly crash two funerals in just over three months! My motivations were pure, even if my execution was inappropriate. Anyway, since I'm always determined to both confess and try to make right, Lynne (who I think might have preferred a discreet and unobtrusive getaway) and I sat down with the decedent's granddaughter and a family friend, and discussed teaching at university in the U.S. and Singapore (where I took pains to proffer Lynne's "death and dying" course this fall as a potential rationale for my otherwise inexplicably bizarre interest in strangers' funerals).
After some conversation Debbie commented that while she understood what had happened, most Singaporeans would regard it as very rude for a stranger to take a picture without requesting permission at a funeral. Confession time. I told her that was the last thing I'd ever do deliberately. That when we saw the banner from the bus stop, we thought it was advertising a casket sale being held in the void deck. I was pretty relieved when she really laughed at that...which, of course, was the absolute truth. As appalled as people are when they have seen me taking pictures (always believing it was appropropriate, never thinking I was snapping funerals) I think in the end they realize there was no disrespect intended, and that I'm sorry for their loss...and that they see the humour in some of the situations I manage to get in since I make no secret of my embarrassment. Funny, how the combination of truthtelling and admitting mistakes can be disarming. Lucky for me that, so far at least, that has worked.
The other mourner (who asked our names, but did not introduce himself), gave his version of "Singapore" success--and Debbie appeared to forgive my blunder. But I've got to say, it is easier to crash a funeral here in Singapore than you might imagine. So before you go all smug and think "that would never happen to me"...you should realize that most people wouldn't live in a public housing estate so that it COULD never happen to them. And that nothing embarrassing and/or interesting would ever happen if I was just a bystander, and I'm willing to be embarrassed if that's part of the price for a set of interesting experiences. I'm either one of those right time, right place kind of people (for satisfying curiosity and having unique encounters). Or, maybe I'm a wrong place, wrong time kind of person (if the aim is an uneventful and completely dignified funeral in the Serangoon neighborhood).
Debbie, who had a pretty good sense of humour said, "If you showed up tonight with your camera, you'd have people scratching their heads trying to figure out why they don't know the ang mo branch of the family." Fair enough. She accepted my explanation and laughed, and offered its counterpart from her perspective to help me save face. Very Asian. Twenty minutes seemed an appropriately serious amount of time to apologize several times and express our condolences and take our only somewhat 'tail between the legs' leave of her grandmother's visitation hours.
We crossed Boundary Road, and walked only a hundred yards before we happened upon the interesting sight of activity as a large festival tent being pitched in the field across the street from the main entrance to my housing estate. I saw some women setting up food and drink, and said to Lynne "Let's check this out." I forget, being a veteran of "unexpected" social interactions how traumatizing some of the earlier ones were. Lynne looked a little pale, I'm sure wondereing (what the hell, has she found another funeral?) and said "I think I'll just hang back here." So with Lynne only the tiniest way behind me, I asked the women what was going on.
So I have a witness, and on very good authority, that is it NOT another funeral nor is it a Chinese ghost or god ritual. Although I'm pretty sure that the "big" event is on Wednesday evening (when we'll be in Bangkok), we managed to get ourselves invited to the first evening of the Buddha festival tomorrow night. Not sure what all the particulars are, although there will be two altars and a guest priest and several other activities that we couldn't quite translate into English, but I think I grasped either puppet show or opera...or maybe something completely different. I'm almost always surprised at the difference between what I think might happen and what actually does happen. But in the meantime, I'm determined that Lynne will have as many neighborhood adventures and as memorable a time as we can manage while she's here.
And I'm glad that I finally have a witness who can vouch for my claim that it is really easy to inadvertently crash a funeral when you're an ang mo like me, and it's happening in the void deck of the HDB.
No comments:
Post a Comment