Singapore's Joss Sticks

I'd been feeling a little reminiscent of China being here in Singapore but couldn't really put my finger on it. Then it hit me; I'd recently spent months and months in a country that had thousands — thousands — of years of history. Weekends were filled exploring neighborhoods that were encircled with a city wall that had withstood dozens of attacks over the hundreds of years. Pagodas had been burned and rebuilt and burned and rebuilt again. Everything was so old, so ancient and so embedded with a sense of history. Singapore has many things, but it doesn't emit that cultural history like China does.

So imagine my delight when my church planned an activity to explore one of the only lasting arts this country has to its name; joss sticks. These incense sticks are commonly found in countries all over South East Asia, India and mainland China but underwent a transformation when brought to Singapore. This man's store front is found in one of the industrial neighborhoods, a cab dropped my off where I wove my way through storefronts crowded with engines to be repaired, furniture to be mended, and motorcycles to be fixed until I knew I was in there right place. Intricately carved six-foot tall incense sticks were sort of a dead giveaway.

Tay Guan Hong's workshop was dusty; various tools you'd expect and other you wouldn't, hung from various hooks and strings from the ceiling, where bags of a rich brown clay lay wrapped in a thick plastic. Various wire forms were halfway formed into a man carrying baskets of fish or about to artfully blow into a flute were strewn about, carefully drying and waiting until they were completed.

Tay did a careful demonstration and explanation of his craft; the clay he uses is simply ground cinnamon bark and water, that's it. This tradition has been in his family for generations, who brough and elaborated it from Mainland China. Tay carves various figurines, Christmas ornaments and gingerbread houses for the Christian population, and of course the enormous Joss Sticks. He used mostly his hands in the demonstration, and the only tools he did rely on can be found at any fast food spot. A straw helped him carve out details with a flick of his very experienced wrist. He carefully formed a hand, then snipped 5 fingers before deftly folding a thick pancake of clay into a beautifully draped sleeve and robe. It was ah-mazing to watch. 

I left still feeling nostalgic about China. I'm probably due for another lunch of tomato and eggs in Chinatown.