thin king

Good morning,


Wet Markets Warm People.


In the neighbourhood of Bedok, both the North and the South sides,
there are at least six wet markets with their adjacent hawker centres.
Out of these, the one at Block 58, Bedok South, stands out beyond
compare. It is a market where customers return even though they live
afar elsewhere.

There are not much grand facilities here, yet the crowd that attends
the weekends is overwhelming. The whole market is surrounded by
car parks, on the north, the south, the east and the west sides; yet,
on any weekend morning, parking here is a big hassle. There are five
coffee-shops, and these are as crowded as the food courts at the
shopping centres during lunchtime.

More people attract more of others. Stand-up demonstrators come
regularly to promote their products, all sorts of products; and all
this in a way bring household needs to people's doorsteps. These
promoters are really skillful. They are able to sell vacuum cleaners,
pots, pans, mops, wall-hangers, induction cookers, and a range of
others things, selling them at prices even higher than those at the
big stores. Many of the shops are now fronted by mornings only
vendors who display their goods on the floor or portable tables, doing
very brisk business, and disappear before lunch time. On top of all
these, there is music blaring from two or three CD sellers.

That this market is very popular on weekends is not an exaggeration.
Even the koyot-man or snake-oil man comes.

Why has Block 58 Market become so popular and drew customers
from afar? Some give credit to the famous mee-rebus stall, the
pancake king goodies, or the Jago Close fried carrot cake, while
others maintain that it is the warm relationship between stallholders
and customers. This latter reason has got to be the main draw,
relationship bonds.

When hawkers talk to their customers, when hawkers enquire about
a spouse who did not come, when a fruiterer tells a customer that his
fruit that day is sour, when a fishmonger tells someone other ways of
cooking a fish, when a butcher tells me the quality of the day's pig liver
or explain the different cuts of meat, when they greet us even though
we were not buying, when an older hawker addresses us as ah-hiar
and ah-chay (elder brother and elder sister) and not ah-peh and ah-soh
or uncle and auntie, all these acts do mean something.

When one shops at a wet market one buys from a human being;
whereas when one shops at a supermarket, one buys from a display.
Perhaps this explains why wet markets did not vanish.

Vive la wet markets!

Have a nice day.
Ronald