SINGAPORE: Somewhere in Kallang there lurks a forgotten dragon.
Hanging from the rafters of the Sar Kong Heritage Hall at Sims Drive, its ferocious gaze greets the occasional visitor who ventures into its lair. It rarely goes out but when it does, it’s a sight to behold.
Once every three years, this smouldering dragon makes its way around the housing and industrial estate before being engulfed in flames in a fiery climax.
A TEMPLE BUILT BRICK BY BRICK
Made of straw and covered in joss sticks, this Fire Dragon is the only one of its kind in Singapore. But even its fascinating history is perhaps eclipsed by the very temple that houses it.
The Mun San Fook Tuck Chee is one of Singapore’s most unique temples, having been founded by coolies in the Kallang area in 1901. (Photo: Mun San Fook Tuck Chee)
While the former has been an overlooked fixture in the area since the 1980s, the Mun San Fook Tuck Chee temple’s roots stretch back more than 150 years, its story tied to the very history of Kallang.
“The area was one of our earliest industrial estates. Because of the Kallang River, you had all these sand and soil, which were suitable for industries like brickmaking. So in the past, there were many brick kilns around,” said heritage enthusiast Ang Yik Han.
Mr Ang, who is an engineer by profession, stumbled upon the temple’s history a decade ago and subsequently co-wrote a couple of books about it.
A straw Fire Dragon currently displayed at the temple’s Sar Kong Heritage Hall. (Photo: Mayo Martin)
According to him, many of the coolies who worked in the brick kilns and other small workshops in the area were mostly Cantonese migrants, who eventually decided they needed their own place of worship.
The first temple was a simple one that was set up nearby in the 1860s, before being relocated to its current site in 1902. As a nod to the industries in the Kallang area, the temple’s Cantonese name Mun San was derived from “bangsal”, the Malay word for workshop or shed.
That wasn’t the only link to the area’s working class identity. Around 6,000 bricks were donated by the workers and owners of two brick kiln operators, which were used in the construction – and are still part of the temple.
Inside the Mun San Fook Tuck Chee. (Photo: Mun San Fook Tuck Chee Facebook page)
This was a very unusual scenario, Mr Ang pointed out. “In the city areas, you get very nice, beautiful temples established by the clans and rich businessmen. But here, people didn’t have a lot of money so you get these simple temples.”
FROM COOLIE QUARTERS TO A KAMPONG
Despite its simplicity, Mun San Fook Tuck Chee became the focal point of what would eventually grow from a handful of coolie quarters and workshops into a full-fledged village by the 1920s.
It was called Kampong Sar Kong, which means “sand dune”, alluding once more to the area’s industry.
A photo depicting a lion dance performance in front of the temple in the 1960s, where some of Kampong Sar Kong’s old attap houses can be seen. (Photo: Mun San Fook Tuck Chee)
For the next few decades, the community grew in roughly around the same area surrounded by the Sims Drive loop. It was flanked by other Cantonese, Hokkien, and Malay villages. Around it were soy sauce and sago factories, and fish and prawn ponds that were formed from all the digging.
It was a quintessential pre-Independence kampong but it was by no means a wealthy one. Nevertheless, the temple’s committee members who served as the elders made sure it was organised and self-sustaining.
“Nowadays you have the Government looking after every aspect of life but back then, the temple took care of education, they had a sports association, they trained village youngsters in martial arts and even had a volunteer firefighting squad,” said Mr Ang.
A model of the old Kampong Sar Kong during the 1950s, with the temple at the centre, surrounded by houses, ponds, a sago factory. The two old angsana trees were already present and there was a firefighters’ watchtower in the temple grounds. (Photo: Mayo Martin)
At its peak in the 1950s and 1960s, population estimates ranged from a few hundred to a thousand, who lived in mostly wooden and atap houses.
LIFE IN KAMPONG SAR KONG
One of those who remembers growing up in the village is Chin Fook Siang. The 76-year-old retiree, who is the current chairperson of the temple committee, lived right next door to the temple.
“There was a stage in front for Chinese opera,” he recalled, adding that there was a close connection between the communities in his village and in Chinatown, who would often travel to Kampong Sar Kong to watch shows.
Mr Chin Fook Siang, chairperson of the Mun San Fook Tuck Chee, putting joss sticks on the fire dragon. (Photo: Mun San Fook Tuck Chee)
In fact, whenever there were new migrants from China, some would inevitably come knocking at the temple for food and shelter.
“Some of them would have nowhere to stay so they come here. And inside the temple, they used to have this very big wok where they would cook rice and different kinds of food to feed all these people,” said Mr Chin.
While it may all seem idyllic, there were also records of the presence of opium dens and some gangster activities. So much so that a vigilante corps was formed to keep the peace – and even the gangs followed an unwritten rule that if they were to fight, they’d have to do it at the back of the temple.
A photo of students, villagers and alumni of the Mong Yang Chinese School in the 1960s. The establishment of the school during the 1930s had meant the village transformation into a proper community. Today, the space is where the temple’s lion dance troupe is based. (Photo: Mun San Fook Tuck Chee)
And during the race riots in the `60s, Kampong Sar Kong and its neighbouring Malay villages agreed to stay out of each other’s territories to avoid trouble – even as they would protect from outside troublemakers those who would go astray.
THE RISE OF THE FIRE DRAGON
By the time Singapore gained independence, transformation was already afoot. Reclamation project to fill up the area’s swamps began in 1963. It was time for Kallang’s reinvention as an industrial area – this time under the new government’s national development plans.
Kampong Sar Kong was spared up until 1979, when its residents were finally made to move to housing estates in Aljunied, Koon Seng Road and Kallang Airport.
The temple’s straw Fire Dragon at the 2012 Chingay Parade (top left) and near the temple on the eve of the Earth Deity’s feast day in 2016. (Photos: Ang Yik Han, Mun Sun Fook Tuck Chee)
But as the people moved out, the temple brought in its current famous resident. By the early 1980s, the Fire Dragon was making its rounds in the area.
The unique tradition – of using straw to create the dragon and sticking lit joss sticks all over it – had been appropriated from Chinese harvest traditions.
“Over here, we don’t have farming so the converted it to be used during the Earth Deity’s birthday,” said Ang.
The deity, known as Da Bo Gong, was the temple’s main deity and associated with the area’s literal earthy roots. Once every three years, on the second day of the second lunar month, temple devotees would assemble the dragon using straw imported from China.
With hundreds of lit joss sticks stuck all over it, the dragon would be hoisted by around 60 people in a fiery procession around Sims Drive before ending back at the temple where it would burn away.
In recent years, it would also make the occasional cameo at the Chingay Parade – the latest, unburnt one, from 2016, hangs on the rafters of the temple’s Sar Kong Heritage Hall.
Straw from China is shipped in to create the Fire Dragon under the supervision of Fong Keng Yuan (top right). More than 60 men are needed to carry the 60m-long dragon during the procession, during which around 3,000 joss sticks smoulder as they’re stuck unto the dragon. (Photos: Jimm Wong, Mun San Fook Tuck Chee)
The Fire Dragon’s next appearance will be in 2019 – if it happens at all.
“The dragon is tied to the history of the temple, so if it moves elsewhere or disappears completely, there’s no impetus to do the dragon because it’s not commercial,” said Mr Ang.
LIVING ON BORROWED TIME
Since 1979, the Mun San Fook Tuck Chee has sat on Government land. From 2009, it has been under the Housing and Development Board’s Temporary Occupation Licence, which is renewed yearly. Nearby housing blocks have already been emptied as part of the board’s En Bloc Redevelopment Scheme.
The temple committee says renewal is due on June 30 but they have yet to receive a letter for this year.
Gesturing to the area around Sims Drive, Mr Chin said: “All these used to belong to the temple so people here were renting. All were given to the Government except for the plot here.”
To the left is the temple’s main deity, the earth deity Da Bo Gong (Tai Pak Kung in Cantonese). The wooden statue and stone tablet are said to date back to the beginnings of the temple. To the right is the more recent section on the Bodhisattva Guanyin. It was previously an open space. (Photo: Mayo Martin)
There have been little victories – the National Heritage Board had awarded it a grant, which resulted in a heritage gallery that talks about the temple, former kampong and the Fire Dragon.
Sporadic tours are also being held on an ad hoc basis for people who enquire on the temple’s website.
But a campaign to include it in Singapore’s list of national sites and monuments was unsuccessful. Mr Ang reckons this was due, in part, to the substantial changes made to the building during its most recent renovation in 1985.
Some houses in the kampong were turned into opium dens and gangster activities weren’t uncommon. But there was also an unspoken rule that fights were to be done at the back of the temple. (Photo: Mayo Martin)
He added that this exclusion seems a pity. After all, Mun San Fook Tuck Chee is one of only two original temples in the Kallang area that stretches back to the 19th century. The other one is the Sri Manmatha Karuneshvarar Temple on Kallang Road, which also has blue collar roots – it was set up to serve devotees at the Kallang Gasworks.
A HIDDEN GEM
But Ang concedes that what makes the temple unique has also been the reason it is not getting much buzz or support.
Some examples of the Twelve Nannies, which were unique because they are depicted wearing the ordinary clothes during the late Qing period. (Photo: Ang Yik Han)
“It also doesn’t really go into the main narrative of Singapore history. When you look at history, you talk about important people and institutions, but nobody remembers the names of all these coolies – they were people of no consequence,” he said.
“But collectively, they were involved in history in some way and I feel this temple is representative of their contributions. It’s important in a different kind of way – to remind ourselves of our roots. In the 19th century, you had all these self-organised industrial activity and people who get together to do their own thing but works out well for the economy. It’s a hidden gem.”
In front of the Mun San Fook Tuck Chee today. (Photo: Mayo Martin)
For one of the temple’s longtime devotees, Mr Chin, this hidden gem worthy of some buffing up.
“If the Government allows this place to be preserved, we can do things to better preserve it. But it’s a year on year thing, you cannot do anything. I used used to play here when I was growing up. I’m 76 years old now, but I hope this place will still be around long after I’m gone.”
