“The Chinese believe that one must be buried with the back against the mountain and have a clear unobstructed view in front.” This is one of the many things I learnt when I went for an introductory tour at Bukit Brown last month. Never in my life have I been to a cemetery, so when I first signed up to walk the hills of Bukit Brown cemetery with Darren, I had no idea what to expect. I was also probably a little too preoccupied with wondering why I even signed up to walk among graves on Chinese Ghost Festival. The one day where ‘hungry ghosts’ are said to roam earth in search of food and ‘entertainment’. But there I was, standing at Hill 1 of Bukit Brown Cemetery at 9am on a Saturday with about about 10 or so in the tour group. The Chinese believe that there is nothing to be afraid of if you haven’t done anything wrong, but I still couldn’t help but feel slightly apprehensive about possibly encountering netherworldly beings. After all, the mind will only wander when facing the unknown.

I had pictured the cemetery to be what I usually see on horror films: in a decaying state and eerie. As we stood around waiting for late comers however, I realised how misguided I was in my impression. Granted, it was daylight, but you know how there are some places that just feel creepy regardless? For example, you would somehow get creepy vibes from walking down a long, narrow, echoey corridor with no one else around, but this place is nothing like that. For a place where it’s home to the dead, it was teeming with life and I was struck by how beautiful the greenery is, especially the iconic rain tree that towered above us as we made our way deeper into Bukit Brown from Hill 1. 

For a moment, it felt a bit like a scene from Alice In Wonderland, enchanting and where the plants and trees are larger than life. Adding on to my surprise that the cemetery is actually a pretty peaceful place to be at, we bumped into a group of four who were riding by on horses. Darren explained that because of the beauty and tranquility of Bukit Brown, the Singapore Polo Club and the National Equestrian Centre actually hold horse-riding tours there. In fact, Bukit Brown Cemetery is no longer a place for paying respects to ancestors, but also a place for recreation. There are many other tours that will take you through Bukit Brown, like the Nature Society (Singapore)’s birdwatching tours and it’s also a norm for people to jog or walk their dog there. It was a fresh perspective for me as I had never thought of going to a cemetery, much less see it as a site for recreation.

One of the volunteers from the group of volunteers behind a.t.Bukit Brown (all things Bukit Brown), Darren’s head of grey-white hair and a white moustache outlining his jaws make it easy to assume him to be a retiree. It was only at the end of the tour that I learnt, much to my surprise, that he is actually the Vice-Dean of the School of Law in SUSS. As Darren brought us around, I realised Bukit Brown is huge. Before the exhumation of graves to make way for the new Lornie Highway, the five hills that make up Bukit Brown were home to about 100,000 graves, making it one of the biggest Chinese cemetery outside of China. Even the largest cemetery in Paris, the Père Lachaise Cemetery, is only about half the size of Bukit Brown. The former is a major tourist attraction that has been hailed as the most-visited cemetery. Yet, Bukit Brown seems to be seen as an impediment to urbanisation here - at least from our ‘masterplans’. The scale is one, but let’s not forget the rich history and heritage behind Bukit Brown.

Burying the dead used to be a very complicated matter as it involved knowing the deceased’s dialect group or where they hail from. It determined where they should be buried at. For example, one would have to bring the body of a Cantonese all the way to the cemetery at Bishan because that is the dedicated Cantonese cemetery. Even then, one would still have to prove that the background of the deceased. Then, there are the costs involved. Because most cemeteries were private, one would need money to buy a plot and to bury a body. Paupers would end up having to depend on donations from kind, wealthy businessmen for their burial.

Bukit Brown was the first municipal Chinese cemetery and it solved the problems above as the government would fund the burial of paupers as long as there is a death certificate. The cemetery was also not associated with any clan or ethnic group, and all the factors contributed to Bukit Brown becoming the most popular Chinese cemetery.

As we traipsed through Hills 2 and 5 during the tour, I imagined how beautiful the place could be if more was done in terms of maintenance. Ever since the government closed all cemeteries in 1972 due to land space concerns, nature has taken over the once properly manicured lanes. Many of the graves are also enshrouded by flora.

Where there used to be open land and clear walking lanes to each grave, we had to brave through tufts of thick grass, step over fallen branches and avoid slipping on moss as we made our own paths to the graves we visited. As we did, Darren explained the unique characteristics of different graves. “By the end of today, you should be able to tell whether the person was a Hokkien or Teochew just by looking at their grave.” Interestingly, every part of a tomb ‘design’ has got a meaning to it.

The tombstones of a Hokkien grave are free-standing and may or may not be supported with stones on the left and right. There will usually be a peripheral wall behind the tombstone and for the very wealthy, you will find two walls. The two wall also creates a trough such that when it rains, water would flow down the trough to the front of the tomb and because water is wealth to Chinese, it signifies that the wealth would flow down to the descendants. The Teochew graves, however, is built into a wall and do not have a peripheral wall around where the body lies.

The inscriptions also tell a lot about what is important to each Dialect group and also the story of the person’s life. The Hokkiens will have all their children’s names on the tomb, but their wife’s name will not be included unless she is buried with him. The Teochews, however, will have the names of every women in his life disclosed on the tombstone but not their descendants’ names.

A three-hour history ‘lesson’ sounds like a drag, but having hosted Bukit Brown tours for about three years, Darren’s animated story-telling kept me engaged. Even though I grew up in a very different era from the people who now resides at Bukit Brown, it was fascinating to hear the stories of the graves we visited. We heard the stories of Tay Koh Yat, who established a bus company that was merged to what we know as SBS today, explored the mystery of Dolly Tan, learnt about the kingdom of Neo Tiew, and Chinese businessman Tan Kheam Hock amongst others. I got a glimpse into what was life back in the 1940s, of the challenges that some of these people faced and the brutality of living in the period of a World War. I'd be lying if I said I can relate to the struggles these people faced, because I can't. But the stories that Darren regaled us with made me better understand how our culture and society came to be, and better appreciate the luxuries we enjoy today. Although I am not converted to be a lover of cemeteries, I do have a new-found appreciation of it. To think that I’m born and bred in Singapore but knew nothing about our local cemetery and its stories, and it takes Darren, a Malaysian, to school me. It put things into perspective and I understood a little more about why people fought for the preservation of Bukit Brown. I was one who couldn’t care less when plans of Lornie Highway and further redevelopment of the area were announced. But now that I’ve seen the tombs and heard the stories, I know the importance of preservation and conservation. Urbanisation is important for the progress of a nation, but if come one day where all of such historical or heritage sites like Bukit Brown had to make way for progress, I think it to be a truly sad day. Also read, With Anti-Trump Protests Around The World, These Causes Closer To Home Are Also Worth Paying Attention To.

There’s a saying that you should never forget your roots. As millennials, we’re guilty of knowing more about pop culture than our own Singaporean heritage. But knowing our cultural heritage is important because it’s what makes Singapore distinctive in an increasingly globalised world. It also anchors us to our families, our communities and our shared values.

In our journey to go back to our roots, we caught up with 3 millennials who are pursuing their passion for traditional art forms. Here are their stories on disputing generation stereotypes, chasing their dreams, and preserving the invaluable cultural heritage passed down from our forefathers.

ISMAHAIRIE PUTRA ISHAK, 32 – VIOLINIST AND OUDIST

EMBRACING TRADITIONAL MALAY MUSIC

I was first exposed to traditional Malay music when I was a member of the Singapore Malay Orchestra in 1996. I picked up the Oud then. Never expected to fall in love with it, but I did. People are surprised to see me play the Oud because they relate it to traditional music and assume that it’s only played by the older folks. I create original compositions by combining traditional and contemporary elements. It gives me a great sense of satisfaction to show people that music is for everyone, regardless of age, genre, or style.

MAKING A TOUGH DECISION

It wasn’t an easy choice to pursue my passion in Malay music, especially in the early years after my national service. My mum wanted me to sign on to have a stable income with sufficient CPF. I had to assure her that I could do it and that there is a growing market for Malay music in Singapore. There were many sacrifices I had to make, and it’s really tough when I have to give up celebrating festive seasons or family gatherings because of rehearsals.

BELIEVING IN TRADITIONAL ARTS

But I’m glad that I didn’t give up on the dream. I chose to follow my passion for Malay music because I not only believe in my craft, I believe in doing what I love. To me, traditional arts is important because it teaches us important values. It keeps us grounded in our culture, which is rapidly losing its flavour among other influences. Being a traditional musician allows me to stand out.

Today, I am a violinist and an Oudist. In the day, I teach little kids the violin, and by night, I’m a performing musician, promoting my own craft as well as traditional music. I’m in the midst of producing my own instrumental album now and am planning to write a music syllabus for the Oud one day. I want more people to know that playing the Oud is as easy as playing the guitar, and I hope my syllabus will help more people pick up the Oud.

ELIZABETH CHAN, 27 – CHINESE DANCE PRACTITIONER

IT STARTED WHEN SHE WAS THREE

I was three when I saw my mum taking dance classes. I pestered her into letting me join my own Chinese dance classes, which I eventually attended weekly. In secondary school, I joined the Chinese dance club and it was there that I decided I wanted to do Chinese dance professionally. I went on to do a degree in dance at the Hong Kong Academy for Performing Arts (HKAPA), majoring in Chinese Dance.

THE PURSUIT

Just like everything else that matters, pursuing dance is difficult. For me, the hardest part is having to overcome the constant self-doubt and discouraging sentiments from people who don’t understand the practicality of pursuing such an art form. As a growing dancer, you’ll doubt yourself over and over again, especially when there are better dancers out there with better technique and better bodies.

One significant milestone in my journey was when I received the Singapore Hokkien Huay Kuan Arts and Cultural Scholarship in 2010 to pursue a Bachelor’s Degree in Chinese Dance at the HKAPA. I went into dance research and further discovered the beauty of Chinese Dance there. That experience really opened up a whole new world to me.

TRADITIONAL ARTS IS A PART OF US

The arts are about many things, but you can't take the human element out of it. And it’s the same for tradition. These are things that we create for ourselves and our fellow human beings to enjoy, experience, and appreciate life. In today's society where people are constantly scrambling to be the best and chasing after profits, the traditional arts promotes the warmth of our community, and the sensitivity that we need when trying to understand others.

SUSHMA SOMASEKHARAN, 30 – CARNATIC VOCALIST

SOMETHING OLD, SOMETHING NEW

I started learning Carnatic Music at the age of four. My parents were very fond of it and it was their way of rooting me back to my Indian heritage and culture. Today, I’m a Carnatic Vocalist (South Indian Classical Vocalist). Carnatic music is one of the oldest forms of music from India and is associated with the Southern part of India.

FINDING JOY IN TRADITIONAL ARTS

 

 

People tend to see Carnatic music as a niche art form and I can understand why. Even as a traditional arts practitioner myself, I’m not an aficionado in every other traditional art form out there. But when I listen or watch other art forms, I do it with an open mind and I am prepared to be inspired and pick up something new. And that is what I hope for the public – to see traditional arts with an open mind. Even if the art forms are different from pop culture, there are many beautiful moments which can be experienced if you are open to it.

IMPORTANCE OF THE ARTS

Traditional arts play a huge role in any heritage and culture. I think it is important to acknowledge that what we have today stemmed from the traditional arts. It is the same reason why schools teach History as a subject. We wouldn’t be where we are today without the happenings of the past.

That said, I do wonder if it’s practical for me to pursue Carnatic music every now and then. The emphasis on material success is very apparent in Singapore and it can be daunting to an arts practitioner, especially if we are not getting enough concert opportunities to quantify the time and effort spent on it. Many times I have been asked: “Oh, you’re a singer but wait, what do you do for a full-time job?’’ Such questions can make us doubt ourselves in pursuing the art.

There are moments when I compare myself to my peers and wonder if a full-time corporate life would be better, but I realise that there is truly nothing more satisfying than music for me. It was an important process for me to understand that this is not a fundamental pursuit of money or fame. It is the pursuit of art itself.

SUPPORT TRADITIONAL ARTS!

It’s not common to see the younger generation appreciating something we think only our parents and grandparents would enjoy. But these millennials took a path less travelled and persevered. More than that, they are striving to give our traditional arts scene a new lease of life, so show them some love and support! Find out more about the traditional arts scene in Singapore and check out their upcoming activities and performances <a href=" This article is written in partnership with the National Arts Council.