About four hours by bus from Singapore is Malacca City or Melaka in Malay. Once the land of sultanates, it has been under the rule of the Portuguese, Dutch, British, and Japanese, and finally it is now part of the country of Malaysia.
The legend of how it was founded is based around the bravery of a mouse deer. Parameswara, the last Raja of Temasek, who founded the empire there, named it Melaka, after the tree he rested under during a hunt. What inspired him was a mouse deer who in self-defense forced his hunting dog into the river. It was symbolic of the small overpowering the big. A good omen, and a good lesson.
Being a UNESCO World Heritage Site since 2008, Malacca attracts both domestic and foreign tourists. For my mom and me, this was a food trail. Many people from Singapore often do a weekend trip here; for us, it was a day trip of wandering through the Jonker Street area, and seeing what we see and finding what we find.
What struck me as we strolled leisurely, wonderfully aimlessly, along Jonker Street was how colourful Malacca is. Mix and match. Pattern on pattern. History is in the cracks, the stains, the chipped Peranakan tiles, and the shophouses, in sharp contrast to the glass, concrete, and sleekness of modern cities like Singapore. Shops were closed, whether for maintenance, for takeover or just out of their opening hours, was unclear. It was oddly quiet, a silence broken only by the occasional honking of cars around Dutch Square. The streets further from the core part of Jonker Street were rather desolate.
Malacca was an intriguing lesson in history and intertwining cultures. While there are a few museums, we only had time for one. The Baba Nyonya Heritage Museum. Baba refers to a Straits-born gentleman and Nyonya, a Straits-born lady. Peranakan is what we call the new culture from the interracial marriage between 15th/16th century Chinese immigrants and the local Malay women. The Chitty (or Chetty) are the Hindu Peranankans.
This museum was the actual home of four generations from 1861. It is a three-lot two-storey house that merged East and West, with Dutch and Chinese influences, to name a couple. Being late in the day and nearing closing time, there were no more tours. The museum staff gave me a book as a guide to visit the various rooms, all displaying the affluence of this family, such as the Ancestral Hall, Kitchen, Reception Hall…
I found it rather eerie walking through this well-lived history-laden site, even in the sunny kitchen. Being the ancestral home, prayer continues to be done there throughout the year, such as on ancestor birth dates and death dates. The past is very much part of the walls, the displays of clothes, dinner settings specially ordered from Shanghai, photos, elaborate woodwork, the whisperings of all that had gone on just under the radar of the human ear…but if you close your eyes, hold your breath, and listen a little more keenly…
The group of students on tour at the same time added wonderful yang energy, plus I got some interesting tidbits when I was walking through the same rooms.
(Note: no photography allowed inside the museum.)
In our wandering, my mom and I found many interesting little shops, mostly for food, antiques, and clothing. One was called Nirvana Collection. I was surprised to find a Peranakan dress shop when I walked in. From the name I had expected yoga wear, like in those shops with similar names in Phuket and Bali. The owner handcrafts each piece, many of which are custom-ordered. Her clothes are colourful, ornate, and beautiful. The embroidery is impressive. This skill was passed down to her through her mother and I sensed some sadness when she shared that her only child did not want to take over the shop and continue the tradition.
We found quite a number of antiques shops. Some were more like junk shops with discarded items strewn through the dark interiors. Searching through the piles can uncover some interesting finds. Old jewelry and vintage Peranakan tiles are common. Old books, statues, weights, nautical items, porcelain dinnerware, calendars…
A most unexpected shop we found in a quiet part of town was a shoemaker, originally from China. Not just any shoemaker, a maker of the Chinese foot binding shoes. As a woman I was outraged. As a student of history, observer of change, and an admirer of beautiful fabrics, I was intrigued. Alongside beaded Peranakan sandals for sale, tiny vintage shoes were on display.
In case you’re not familiar with this practice – they used to bind girls’ feet to achieve the “ideal” 3-inch “golden lotus foot”. By breaking all except the big toes and binding the others flat beneath the sole, the foot formed a triangular shape. The arch was broken and over a two-year process that begins in girls as young as four years old, using tighter bindings and even removal of flesh, the shoes and the feet became smaller, the heel and sole now touching.
Lasting for a thousand years, the foot-binding was finally outlawed in 1912, when the Qing Dynasty, and with it the imperial era of China, came to an end. Foot-binding, apparently with erotic undertones, was many expressions, ethnic pride of the Chinese after Mongolian invasion, a symbol of wealth and status, female virtue and refinement, and filial duty. Perpetuated by women, it was a twisted form of female subjugation. Foot-binding continued for decades surprisingly in the rural areas, even after it was banned.
My mom and I had planned the six or so hours in Malacca to be a foodie trip; munching and sampling along the way. After lunch and a few stops, we were full. The heat and humidity also made anything other than juice and icy-delights unpalatable.
For my mom, durian was on her mind. She only found out on the bus en route to Malacca that it was not durian season! Whenever she visits Asia, she tries to look for her favourite stinky fruit.
We did find durian – durian puffs and durian chendol, only everything was made with canned durian. Chendol is another famous dessert we looked at. Shaved ice, green rice-flour jelly noodles, and red beans soaked in coconut milk and in Malacca, gula melaka, a sugar made from coconut trees. We can easily find Shaved ice in Singapore so we gave it a pass.
A trip to Malacca from Singapore is a fun way to spend the day. While many Singaporeans drive over the border, we decided to take the bus so I could get some downtime to nap and read on the way. The bus dropped us off right near the tourist info office. Do check where you take the bus home; it’s not the same place. Tired, instead of walking over, we took a taxi to the bus station, and took an earlier bus home. The bus station isn’t very large, though it gets busy. You can go earlier and grab a bite to eat and do some more shopping.
A version of this article was originally published in the Spring 2016 issue of It’s All Well + Good Magazine. This was a quarterly magazine I produced.