Missed our last stop downstairs? Read Level 1, Part 3 here!
After exploring the ground floor, I headed upstairs to Level One of the Chinatown Heritage Centre. Wah, so many rooms were waiting to be explored!
Aunty: “Legs, don’t complain yet—we’ve only just started!”
Legs: “Easy for you to say lah; we’re the ones carrying you around!”
No Lift, Dim Stairs—And A Basket On A String
💭 Aunty Remembers…
Wah piang eh, these stairs already look steep and dim. Imagine Aunty going marketing, then having to climb all the way up to Level Two with her tired legs—and sometimes the stairway wasn’t even properly lit!
Those days, no lifts—climbing was the only way home. We managed because that was what we had to do. Now that modern technology makes life easier, we shouldn’t forget the hard times we had while enjoying the good times we have.
My upstairs neighbour had a clever way to get her market goods up. She would call from downstairs, “Boy, lower the basket!” Her son slowly lowered a basket tied to a string. She put the groceries inside, and he hauled them upstairs. The market goods got their own little lift—but my neighbour still had to climb the stairs herself!
The Chinese Sinsei And Little Aunty’s Bruises
💭 Aunty Remembers…
The first room belonged to a Chinese sinsei and his family. Seeing the old consultation table and medicine jars reminded me of the sinsei who lived above our house.
I was the active type and couldn’t keep still for a minute—always climbing trees or combing the longkang. Naturally, I knocked myself here and there and collected plenty of bruises. Poor Mama had to bring me to the sinsei many times!
Little Aunty: “Sinsei, look—I knocked myself again!”
Sinsei: “Aiyo, what did you get up to this time?”
Little Aunty: “Tree climbing… longkang combing… the usual lah!”
Our “Luxurious” Mix-And-Match Tea Set
💭 Aunty Remembers…
At home, our tea set was “luxurious” in its own way—none of the pieces matched! The drinking glasses were free gifts that came with soda drinks. But when it was tea time, we put everything together and made it work.
Aunty: “Oi, Mama’s egg pot, you again?”
Sinsei’s Egg Pot: “Hello! I’m the sinsei’s egg pot—don’t anyhow claim me hor!”
No Space Was Left Unclaimed
💭 Aunty Remembers…
Aunty found the real landlords of this room—the daily essentials claimed every inch!
Daily essentials had no boundaries. Bottles and a mirror took over the top shelf; bowls, cups and basins claimed the shelves below. As long as there was space, they would move in and call it their “land”!
Aunty: “Wah, every inch already got an owner!”
Medicine Jars, Remedies—And A Firm “No!”
💭 Aunty Remembers…
The little jars on this shelf belonged to the sinsei’s pharmacy. They reminded me of the jars my neighbour kept, with snakes, rats, or something I couldn’t identify soaking in wine. I only went to the sinsei for my bruises—I wasn’t volunteering to sample the mystery wine!
Aunty: “Sinsei, medicine for the bruises, please. But don’t use that on me!”
Paper Bags And Their Unreliable Handles
💭 Aunty Remembers…
These paper bags were common in those old days. The only problem was that the base or the string handle could give way quite often.
Paper Bag: “Don’t worry, I can carry everything!”
String Handle: “Don’t trust him too much, Aunty!”
Aunty: “Aiyo, both of you better hold on till I get home!”
Our Romantic Lamps—No Lampshade Needed
💭 Aunty Remembers…
No lampshade and hardly any light, but the romance still arrived! Maybe in that dim flicker, everyone looked extra dreamy.
Lamp: “Don’t underestimate me, Aunty—I can still set the mood!”
Aunty: “Can, but don’t flicker until I think there’s a ghost!”👻
A Bitter Day Ahead
💭 Aunty Remembers…
These were the sort of medicine packets you would see in an old medicine hall or a sinsei’s clinic. Whenever Mama carried some home, I knew a bitter day was waiting for me.
“Must I drink all of it, Mama?”
“Every last drop!”
Aiyoh… even before the first sip, my face was already scrunching up!
The Majies’ Day Off
💭 Aunty Remembers…
As I mentioned in my earlier post, a group of majie rented a room above us. On their days off, they would come down to our house to chat with Grandma or play mahjong.
And little Aunty? Of course I was eyeing the food they brought for pot luck lah! The adults could carry on talking and playing—I was keeping watch over the goodies. Priorities, you know.
A Majie’s Signature Look
💭 Aunty Remembers…
A majie was easy to recognise by her white top, black trousers and, most of all, her long pigtail.
My favourite majie neighbour used to style my hair too. But she only had one hairstyle for me—no need to choose from a menu!
“Can try another style today?”
“Same one lah!”
And off I went with my usual look again. Same look every time, can’t go wrong lah.
A Majie’s Essentials
💭 Aunty Remembers…
A majie needed the basic things for daily life: somewhere to keep her belongings, bowls and cups for meals, and a tiffin carrier to bring food along.
But for my majie neighbours, there was one more essential item—the mahjong tiles! Once they had a day off, the tiles would come out and the game could begin.
“Got everything?”
“Wait! Where are the mahjong tiles?” 🀄
Just Like You And Me
💭 Aunty Remembers…
The majies had their cool-weather-at-home outfit too—on a hot day, who wants to stay all buttoned up?
My majie neighbours wore sleeveless tops in their room, especially on very hot days. Apart from their distinctive long pigtails, they looked like any other woman walking along the street.
Because that’s what they were—ordinary women, just like you and me, with their own comfortable clothes to wear at home.
A Family Of Ten
The display says this cubicle was home to a factory worker father, a seamstress mother and their eight children. It was their home, study space and playground—all in this tiny room.
Ten people in this tiny cubicle? Aunty stood there trying to calculate where everyone could sleep, study and play. The parents must have had engineering-level planning skills! Must have careful and accurate calculation mah!
The Screen Cabinet Up High
💭 Aunty Remembers…
The cabinet was hung high to keep the food away from the rats—but look who’s perched nearby, still eyeing it! 🐀
This is the screen cabinet I mentioned in Part 1. It was hung near the ceiling to keep things out of the rats’ reach. The mesh let air circulate while helping to keep bugs and dust away from the food.
But as I said earlier, the biggest rat in the house might have been little Aunty herself!
More rooms and memories await! Click below
Chinatown Heritage Centre — Level 2, Part 2: More Rooms, More Memories
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