30/04/2023

Street Vendors of Bygone Days

The Kachang Puteh Man

Parked at the entrance of Peace Centre in Selegie Road is the last bastion of Singapore’s yesteryear snack culture. Over the past two decades, a humble pushcart peddling an eclectic assortment of kachang puteh (“kachang” refers to nuts and “puteh” or “putih” means white in Malay) has remained a fixture along the bustling street.

Simply known as “Kachang Puteh”, the metallic pushcart is crammed with 20 types of nuts, legumes and crackers that are housed in bright red-capped bottles. Popular nibbles include cashew nuts, tapioca fritters, sugar-coated peanuts, prawn sticks and murukku. For those who prefer to pop something warm into their mouths, there are also lightly-salted boiled peanuts and chickpeas that are served warm from an electric steamer. Customers can pick and choose which munchies to fill up their folded paper cones (from $1 for two types of snacks).

Mending the stall is Amirthaalangaram Moorthy, a third-generation kachang puteh seller, who arrived here in 2004 from his native Tamil Nadu to continue his family business. The Singapore permanent resident hails from a family that has a long-standing history with kachang puteh. The 51-year-old says that many kachang puteh sellers live in his ancestral village in southern India due to the abundance of nuts grown in the area.


The Ice-Cream Uncles

Hi Foodies, according to a Facebook post by Happy People Helping People community, our beloved Sim Lim Ice-Cream Uncle is back selling ice cream at the same spot! We are so happy that he is finally able to operate his business after being closed due to the circuit breaker.

87-year-old ice cream seller, Ng Teak Boon, had recently caught the attention of netizens after CNA insider released videos exposing poverty in Singapore. For more than 10 years, Mr Ng had been selling $1.50 ice-cream from a bicycle cart beside the Sim Lim Tower. As selling ice-cream is his only source of income, the videos prompted overwhelming support from citizens throughout Singapore.

Ever since the touching story of Mr Ng went viral, many viewers offered to help Mr Ng live a better life. One of them was Andre Chiang, owner of recently closed-down Michelin Starred restaurant, Restaurant Andre. He created an ice-cream sandwich dessert as a tribute to Mr Ng. For every ice-cream he sold at his restaurant, he would donate $5 to Mr Ng.


Plight Of The Tissue Peddlers

I had earlier posted about the PRC man begging (updates below). Curiously, the day after, I met an old lady selling tissue paper outside POMO. I spoke to her at length. She was reluctant to share her personal info but I managed to glean out some. She was going to turn 82 soon. She claimed that both her children didn't give her much hence her need to come out to sell things. She sounded scared to share details even after I assured her of our help because she seemed fearful of her daughter who she claimed had locked her out before. She later said that she was in not too bad a state and only came out to sell occasionally. She also added that she was selling to help someone.

She seemed in good condition and I couldn't determine if she was in financial distress...but at 82 and needing to do this? And with the fragments she shared...I was concerned at her well being from her children.

I asked the authorities to follow up and they found her there after visiting POMO twice. They got more details from her. The assessment is that she doesn't need immediate help but she knows who to follow up with if she does.


Original Alhambra Satay: The Last Survivor Of Singapore’s Historical Satay Club

The year is 1962. You’ve just seen a Technicolor film at the Alhambra theatre. You find yourself walking along the bustling Beach Road, where a band of food vendors have set up shop. Most of them sell only one thing: satay. Before long, the noise and fumes from the adjacent bus terminal fade into the background. The scent of grilled meat hijacks your senses. Seated on a low wooden stool, you take a bite of a glistening, lightly charred satay. Life is good. I’ve never been to the historical Satay Club—I wasn’t yet born when its last true incarnation, the one at the Esplanade, was demolished in 1995. What I’ve just described was my own imagining of the place, cobbled together from stories I’ve heard from my older relatives. And though there were varying details in these stories, all of them had one throughline: 26 hawkers, coming together to offer affordable yet delicious satay in an open-air food centre. It was the precursor to the likes of our present day Lau Pa Sat Satay Street and Satay by the Bay. It was the stuff of legends, allowing satay to make an indelible mark on Singapore’s street food scene.

It saddens me that I will never experience the real Satay Club, but my research helped me discover a remnant of it: Original Alhambra Satay, its only surviving member. Located at Changi Road and Geylang Serai, Alhambra Satay is currently run by Saiful bin Haji Juwahir, 69, its second-generation owner who continues to make satay the traditional way. That means, unlike many of his competitors, Encik Saiful creates his satay without the use of machines—they are entirely handmade. The Satay Club and Alhambra benefitted one another. After screenings, cinemagoers would often walk down the street to have some satay with their friends, and those who were there for satay might be drawn to the larger-than-life allure of the movies. The third element of this equation, however, was troubling—being situated near a bus terminal meant that accidents occurred one too many times. And so in the mid-1950s, the Satay Club moved to a field between Dhoby Ghaut and Prinsep Street, before relocating for the final time to its Esplanade location in 1971. While there were several spin-offs after its dissolution in 1995, this would be the last true Satay Club with all 26 long-time members. The site where the Esplanade Satay Club once stood is now wholly unrecognisable. In its place, the Esplanade – Theatres on the Bay and the Nicoll Highway extension were built, depriving us of an iconic piece of cultural history.

After inheriting the stall from his father in 1980, Encik Saiful had to steer it through many tumultuous moments. There was the end of the Esplanade Satay Club, which forced him and the other 25 members to either retire or set up shop elsewhere, often with much higher rental costs. “After the Satay Club closed, I got offers from those who want to create similar concept—like the one at Clarke Quay. I rejected because the rental costs too expensive already,” Encik Saiful lamented. That Clarke Quay reboot closed its doors in 2005. Encik Saiful then oversaw several struggling ventures that couldn’t recapture the magic of the old stall at the Satay Club. It was only after the openings of his two current Alhambra Satay outlets that stability was finally brought to the business. But through it all, he remained steadfast in his belief that satay should be sculpted by hand.


The Forgotten Thieves Market 结霜桥

Located between Jalan Besar and Rochor Canal Road, the flea market at Sungei Road is Singapore’s largest and oldest flea market. While the exact origin of the flea market remains unclear, historical records have shown that the flea market began as a small trading spot that sprouted along the river during the mid 1930s.

In the past, the flea market operated between 3.00pm to 6.00pm and its operating hours could have resulted in its nickname "Robinson Petang" or "Robinson in the afternoon". The nickname was probably a tongue-in-cheek reference to the Robinson Department Store which catered to the more well-to-do in Singapore.

During the Japanese Occupation (1942 – 1945), the flea market at Sungei Road was very popular as many locals (especially the poor) would flock to the market to purchase cheap household items and other merchandise which were often in short supply.


Sungei Road Thieves’ Market to shut for good

Bargain-hunters who enjoy shopping at the oldest & largest flea market here, popularly known as Thieves’ Market, will have until July 10 to do so.

Located between Jalan Besar & Rochor Canal Road, the flea market, which has been a venue where sellers have peddled 2nd-hand bric-a-brac since the 1930s, will shut for good on that day, with the site being needed for ground preparation works for future residential development use, a multi-agency statement said on Tuesday (Feb 14).

A unique hawking zone with a colourful, decades-long history, including a reputation as a spot for trading stolen, smuggled & illegal wares, Thieves’ Market had, in 2011, been shrunk in half to make way for the construction of the new Sungei Road MRT Station.


The Karung Guni 'Rag & Bone' men

At a flea market in Woodlands, vendors struggled to sell their wares over the Chinese New Year holiday as a relentless downpour dampened spirits and kept customers away. For these vendors, who are traditional scrap dealers – better known as karung guni men – a dwindling customer base, low profits and waning interest are increasingly affecting their declining trade.

The Market Gaia Guni at Woodlands Industrial Park, which houses 15 stalls, is only open on weekends and public holidays. The vendors collect used items including clothes, electronics, and antiques on weekdays and resell them when the market is open. While the market saw sizable crowds during previous Chinese New Years and some other holidays, peddlers said overall profits are meagre. “For those eight days a month (that our stalls are open), we make around S$1,000. After paying rent, I earn about S$600 to S$800,” said an elderly dealer who has been working in the trade for more than 40 years. “For the other days that I’m not here, I work elsewhere. No choice because on weekdays nobody comes here. Some vendors don’t get much business at all and it’s not worth it for them to set up shop here so they (leave the trade),” he added.

“Karung guni” means “gunny sack” in Malay, which in the past was hauled on the backs of local rag-and-bone men as they visited homes door-to-door while sounding their horns. They traditionally collected old newspapers, used clothing, discarded electrical appliances and other unwanted items that can be resold. Today, due to the gruelling physical work and low payoffs, many of these scrap dealers have given up on the industry. Some vendors staying on in the trade said they are too old to change jobs. “I’m already old, I don’t want to change jobs. Business is not great but I’m getting by,” said another stall owner at the Woodlands market, who earns a few hundred dollars a month. “But a lot of my colleagues have changed jobs, because they can’t do physical work anymore,” he added. Shrinking interest in buying used items among Singaporeans continues to remain a challenge, said vendors at the Sungei Road Green Hub, where shops offer an immense selection of secondhand ware such as clocks, sculptures, bicycle helmets and other knick-knacks. These karung guni men are hoping that younger Singaporeans can jazz up the trade and revive the industry. “Our trade is getting smaller and smaller,” said a stall owner. “We hope that this culture can continue but it now depends on the younger generation to use new ideas. It’s not up to us.”


The 'Tok-Tok Mee' man

In the old days, Mr. Lai Quoquan aka ‘Tok Tok Man’ would walk the streets for 14 hours daily; serving up delicious noodles to hungry Singaporeans who answered his melodious rapping. Now watch him take a walk down memory lane with Jiahui, as he dishes out first-hand insights on how we used to eat, way back then!


Here's the sound of the Tok Tok man, bringer of good noodles

If you grew up in the Internet generation, chances are you would have never heard of the Tok Tok Man. Roving noodle hawkers used to play a bamboo instrument to alert customers of their presence. This was back when a bowl of fishball noodles cost 20 cents.

This bamboo instrument emitted a very distinctive 'tok tok' sound - hence, giving the Tok Tok Man his name. There was a different rhythm depending on what type of noodles the Tok Tok Man was selling that day. Wanton noodles had a straight beat while fishball noodles had a more staccato sound, alternating between high and low pitch.

t was a simple way of life. Customers used a basket to collect the noodles, as well as make payment to the Tok Tok man on the street. If you're interested to know more about the Tok Tok Man, these Youtube videos here and here feature their stories. You can also hear a short clip of the Tok Tok rhythm in the video below.


Fatty’s Wanton Mee: Remember the tok tok mee man?

Do you all remember the ice cream man who would go around the neighbourhood ringing his bell? “Cling cling, cling cling ……”

Everyone will know the ice cream man was around and us kids will start clamouring for ice cream.  But what is a housewife to do when you live in a flat with three young boys and no helper?  The solution was to call out to the ice cream man, place your order and lower a basket with some coins to exchange for some ice cream!  I never knew that the basket trick would work for bowls of noodles as well!

From what I gather, this was a common practice in the good old days and if you are talking about the Joo Chiat area, I know of at least two wanton mee stalls which started out as tok-tok mee.  One was Eng’s and the other was Ang Moh wanton mee.  It was called “tok-tok” mee because the hawker would announce his presence by knocking on a bamboo slab with a stick!  Interestingly, (see video) different types of noodles even have their own distinct rhythms!


Buskers, TissuePaper Peddlers, & StreetWalkers

Mobile peddlers selling packets of tissue paper on the streets are unlicensed hawkers, said the National Environment Agency (NEA) in response to a letter posted on a website that these peddlers are charged a S$120 licence fee.

“Although technically in breach of the laws against itinerant hawking, those peddlers who are needy are referred to the relevant agencies by the NEA for appropriate assistance,” the agency said on its Facebook page on Tuesday.

In a letter posted on the socio-political website The Real Singapore, the writer had questioned the need for street hawkers to pay S$120 to get a licence following his encounter with a visually-impaired man who sells tissue paper for extra income.


Singapore's tissue paper peddlers

The tissue paper vendor - a ubiquitous sight in the Singapore landscape - but how many of us actually understand their personal situation?

RazorTV spoke with two tissue paper peddlers, to find out how they became tissue peddlers.

Catch this and more on www.razortv.com.sg