Jonker Street & Cheng Hoon Teng Temple, Melaka

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Jonker Street at Jalan Hang Jebat reminded me of Old Quarter in Hanoi.

The labyrinth of streets in Old Quarter is lined with narrow shops. The streets, equally narrow are absurdly enlivened with locals going about their everyday business and curious backpackers running around eyes wide, amazed with the olden layout and architecture of the buildings.

Like Old Quarter, Jonker Street also houses old heritage buildings, some dating back to the 17th century. The bold Portuguese and Dutch influenced architecture, prominent even today. The streets are narrow and crowded with visitors that come in throngs, all eager to get a piece of the Melaka experience.

However, unlike Old Quarter where only 2 wheels vehicle, i.e. motorcycles and bicycles are allowed into the quarter, Jonker Street is congested with automobiles. More than once i found myself jostled and trying to find foothold on the cramped pavements. I’m completely useless in capturing any useful photo of the unique shop houses because i was so engrossed examining the essence of those quaint little shops while concentrating on the myriad of cars on the street, of not bumping into anyone streaming in and out, of not getting in the way with the many ardent DLSR warriors.

I’m told the crowd is even more overwhelming on weekends.
 


 

The rows of ornamental shop houses may be fascinating to observe, however rather disappointingly most of them sell similar keepsakes whilst others had been converted into fashion boutiques. Quite a few had been transformed into eateries offering famous Melaka delicacies and a handful selling Melaka pastries.
 


 

There are plenty of eateries along Jonker Street, specializing in Melaka/Peranakan delicacies such as cendol laden with glorious Gula Melaka, Nyonya Laksa, Assam Prawn and etc.; the more popular ones are usually pack like sardines.

I always pride myself to be different, i can get very arrogant at times so i scoffed at people who make it a must to visit the most sought after eateries when traveling. It took me years to acknowledge my arrogance and even more years to drop it. And now here i am at Jonker Dessert 88, the boyfriend happily joining the snake-like queue as i entered into the classic interior of the shop on the alert for opportunity to hog any available table.
 


 

The cendol was distinctively Melaka and it came in many different flavors too, each promising a delightful fete for Gula Melaka aficionados. As for me, i’m not too overly enthusiastic about it, finding Gula Melaka way too sweet for my taste bud. But we polished the bowls in the end all in the spirit of adventure.

To be honest, i was more interested in the interior of the shop rather than the food. After all it is a museum cafe, the charming shop had been revamped to accommodate the booming cendol business but the Baba Nyonya flavor is still retained. Photos and pictures of the Old Melaka occupy the walls within the shop while old coins and notes as well as old crockery are encased in glass casings.  Vintage chandeliers and lanterns dimly light up the shop full of wooden square tables for customer to enjoy their fare.

On the rustic tiled staircase are antiques such as an old typewriter, a black rotary phone (hey we used to have at home long, long time ago), several vintage flat irons (i wonder how many burnt clothes these brought about), some household decorative and etc, all rusty and worn by age.

Again, much to my regret, i did not take any useful photos within the shop’s interior. Perhaps i’m just too slow with my hands and much too shy.
 


 

As we walked towards the end of the street, the crowd thinned. I wanted to have a look at the famous Orang Utan House so we turned into the quieter streets for a short stroll; just the two of us.

Away from the monotonous merchants in Jonker Street, are many shops converted into guest houses and more fascinating classical shop houses, some still retaining their trade from the heyday. It was absolutely astonishing to see the almost whimsical mom and pop shops with faded and outdated signboards still operating today.

One particular unit that caught my eyes is a shop specializing in handmade shoes and shoes repair. At the front of the display window are pictures of handmade Nyonya sandals with elaborate beads and amazing pictures of tiny shoes meant for Chinese woman with bounded feet.

There was also a vintage printing press shop with stacks of papers populating most of the floor and another shop that sells everything rattan. It was truly inspiring.
 


 

The strangest feeling it was peeking into what we initially thought were shops and only upon seeing people sitting inside made us realize that there were actually residential houses mingling among the old retail stores. Isn’t it odd having strangers passing by and looking into your home all the time? I guess it comes with the territory; being a tourist hotspot and all.
 


 

When i first set eyes on Cheng Hoon Teng Temple i was bowled over by the rich craftsmanship and architecture. Even from the the main-gate, i knew the temple is going to be extraordinary.

The magnificent main gate with elaborated dragon carvings and wall murals as well as the curved-ridge roof with the most wonderful ornaments done by painstaking Chien-Nien method of fine porcelain cut and paste shard-work already wet my appetite.
 


 

Cheng Hoon Teng Temple is the oldest temple in Malaysia (built in 1645) and in my opinion easily the grandest. The restoration is indeed top-notch and inside is a marvel.

The temple consists of a complex of several prayer halls, the larger main prayer hall dedicated to Kuan Yin. To her left is the patron deity of fishermen, sailors and sea travelers and next to her is the goddess of birth. On the far end is Kuan Kong and the deity with the gold face is the god of welding. The other two halls are dedicated to Taoist gods of wealth and to house ancestral tablets.

Amidst the thin smoke emitted from joss sticks, worshipers were praying while visitors were going “ooh” and “aah” taking in the sight. My eyes teared up from the smoke, i felt suffocated. But that was soon forgotten when the temple comes into view; i was in awe. The interior is extremely dramatic with paper lanterns hanging from the roof beams and intricate carvings, decorative wall paintings, gold gilding; on almost every inch of the temple.
 


 

Each time i visit a Chinese temple i have difficulty when it comes to placing the incense and after many such visits i gave up altogether, instead i make a small insignificant prayers in my heart and leave it at that.

A smile appeared on my face as i watch the European couple imitating the locals in Cheng Hoon Teng temple; they were absolutely perplexed at the complicated sequence of placing the joss-sticks, in the end abandoning their intent by jabbing them in the biggest incense pot in the middle of the hall.
 


 

The day ended with a walk along the Melaka River, enjoying the wind in our hair and watching tourist boats cruising past. As the evening comes, staffs of cafes and pubs by the river began arranging tables and taking out chairs, getting ready for business.
 


 

Before calling it a day we had one more mission to achieve, to give Satay Celup a go.

I was very keen initially because who on earth could resist fragrant juicy satay?! However, when we sat down at Restoran Ban Lee Siang i was flabbergasted.

Satay Celup is not the satay that i know and love. It has nothing to do with slices of marinated meat grilled on skewers over charcoal till it’s tender and juicy and so full of flavor. Satay Celup turned out to be fish balls, sausages, prawns and basically all the ingredients you use for steamboat, on bamboo skewers. You deep in in a atrocious looking hot pot full of even more shocking peanut sauce.
 


 

Oh, it wasn’t so bad; i’m exaggerating by a little bit. It’s just not what i had expected and seeing that the hygiene of sharing a pot of peanut sauce with so many strangers is more than questionable, it’s not something i’m willing to try it for a second time.

Well, it’s another first Melaka experience i’m taking with me.
 
 

Governor’s Museum & Stadthuys, Melaka

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From the St. Paul’s Church there is a pathway leading towards a majestic white building – Dutch influence is conspicuous in the architecture.

Since we have nothing but time in our hands, we paid RM5.00 each for admission.

Outside within the manicured landscape with pine trees scattered here and there, is a vintage Daimler car on display.

The striking white building is in fact the Governor’s Museum of Melaka which also is a former official residence and office of the Dutch Governor of Melaka while the Daimler sitting under a shaded platform in the garden is bought in 1974 by the Melaka State Government for three of the then governors. It has since been decommissioned in 1986 and given to the Malacca Museums Corporation in 1995.
 


 

The museum itself showcases the brief history of the Melaka Sultanate’s institution, the formation of the Governors including their roles as well as the personal belongings of various governors of Melaka since independence.

This museum might be arguably the best museum in Melaka, but we found it rather dull and isn’t at all very interesting. Judging by the meager number of people in the building, i guess most of the visitors would skip this part of their tour, so we quickly made our rounds and left.
 


 

A more interesting landmark of Melaka is the Stadthuys or the Red Square.

It’s not difficult to understand the nation’s obsession with the port-red structure with solid doors and louvered windows. Seeing in real life just isn’t the same as seeing it in print; it’s something special.
 


 

Standing in the middle of the square and taking in the bustling environment made me tingle all over.

Visitors from all walks of life scattered everywhere, taking pictures with the famous clock tower as backdrop, plopping down on the most convenient places to rest their feet and enjoy a cold drink. Rickshaw drivers with heavily decorated rickshaws (even more magnificent than those found at A Famosa) busy showing off their prized vehicle and offering their services. Fruit and water sellers manning their stalls, shaded by the big colorful umbrellas, always smiling but their hands fast doing their trade.

There among the crowd a couple dressed in splendid bridal attire was getting ready for a pre-wedding photo shoot.

It was really a very touristy spot by standard but somehow it was neither cliché nor overwhelming.
 


 

A bottle of water and a packet of guava sprinkled with asam powder are very rejuvenating after a tiring walk. We sat down by the bench, observing people strolling along the many stalls lined beside the red building each selling trinkets and souvenirs.
 


 

Once served as a civic center of the town for both the Dutch and the British then later as a Melaka’s State Governing Centre, the oldest remaining Dutch historical building in the East is now the home of a Museum of History and Ethnography.

We wandered through the corridors peering into rooms after rooms displaying relics from Melaka’s over 400-year history, pausing briefly to admire old Portuguese and Sultanate coins and old crockery. Obsolete weapons and firearms caught my fascination, conjuring up images of olden Dutch soldiers wearing uniforms with frilly necklines carrying swords alongside locals in traditional attire thrusting their Keris while modern tanks rolled by and state of the art military aircraft hovers above the horizon. I shook my head, smiled and moved on, all the while keeping an eye on the eerie looking mannequins dressed in the Dutch era hovering above the high platforms.
 


 

There was a bizarre sense of déjà vu as we roam the hallways. The wooden architecture and the solid doors reminded me of my primary and secondary school. It too had beautiful dominating pillars and solid wooden doors and i had always, always loved walking through the corridors in school feeling peaceful and daydreaming about everything wonderful. It is the same here.

As we walked down from the steps at the exit, something broke my trail of thought, it was a rickshaw driver chauffeuring a set of tourists. It was evidence of the old blending with the new; the rickshaw driver had a radio speaker installed on his vehicle and it was very loudly pumping “Move Like Jagger” track by Maroon 5.
 
 

Fort A Famosa & St Paul’s Church, Melaka

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I suppose that i don’t have to introduce Malacca… i think i’ll stick with Melaka – Malacca just doesn’t click with me since the word “Melaka” had been pounded into my brain since primary school. This goes to show what damage it does to kids when the government can’t make up their mind, flip-flopping between basic languages in the education stream. It messes with kids’ head, it does.

Anyways, let’s start all over.

I suppose i don’t have to introduce Melaka since everyone locally have probably been to the historical state for like a dozen times and especially since Melaka had made it into UNESCO World Heritage Site’s list, foreigners probably knows more about Melaka than say, me who never set foot on the state before this. I’m embarrassed max.
 


 

A brief history nonetheless:

“Melaka was a fishing village before founded by Parameswara. A popular legend accounts Parameswara was resting under a tree near a river while hunting, when one of his dogs cornered a mouse deer (pelanduk/kancil) which in self-defense pushed the dog into the river. Taken up by the courage of the mouse deer, Parameswara decided to found an empire there and named it “Melaka” after the tree under which he had taken shelter.

Melaka emerged as a strong maritime trading state under Parameswara and his chiefs and because of its strategic location straddling the Straits of Melaka, it thrived as a port-of-call and a centre of entrepot trade with ships and merchants from China, Japan, India, Arab and South Africa.

In 1511, it fell to the hands of the Portuguese, followed by the Dutch in 1641. In 1795, Melaka was given to the British to prevent it falling to the French when the Netherlands was captured during the Napoleonic Wars. It was returned to the Dutch in 1818 under the treaty of Vienna but was later exchanged by the British for Bangkahulu, Sumatra. From 1826 onwards, the British East India Company along with Singapore and Penang governed it, under the Straits Settlement administration in Calcutta.

 After the dissolution of this crown colony, Malacca and Penang became part of the Malayan Union, which later became Malaysia.”

 


 

Getting to Melaka is a pleasant 2 hours drive from Kuala Lumpur. Getting to a specific location in Melaka on the other hand is not so easy or pleasant without GPS.

The road signs are mostly nowhere to be seen or planted at the most inconvenient places and the fonts are smaller than what we are used to. I would have expected that this being one of the most visited tourist state, there would have been huge road sign pointing to the tourist attractions but there weren’t any.

Starving, we tried to find the Chung Wah Restaurant to sample their famous chicken rice balls but ended up driving round and round the place. In the end we settled for Ee Ji Ban instead. Not a bad choice actually; the service was excellent and the chicken rice balls were moist and fragrant. It did manage to lift our dampen mood a little before we set out for Fort A Famosa.
 


 

It’s amazing what a little fresh air and a satisfied stomach could do when you are nettled. Feeling less irritated and finally getting the hang of the roads in Melaka, we saw what we didn’t see before; the modern buildings and big shopping malls blending with the old, vintage shop lots.

The cars crowding the road in Melaka bears number plates from all different states in Malaysia. The many, chicken rice shops scattered around Melaka city made me wonder why were we so irked on the first place at not finding the specific restaurant when we could have just stopped and sampled the Melaka dish at any of these restaurants.
 


 

Braving the sun we walked over to the complex.  It was a great idea as well to park at Dataran Pahlawan Melaka Megamall instead of trying to park at the open parking near the fort. It’s just a 5 minutes walk and the open parking is almost full all the time.

And then we saw from across the street, the crowd, the tour guides holding small red flags, the buses and the wonderful sight of colorfully decorated rickshaws.

My eyes couldn’t stop staring at the elaborately flower-decorated rickshaw that so definitely defines the uniqueness of Melaka. Once again in high spirit, i was debating with myself whether to snap a photo of myself with the rickshaws when i overheard one of the rickshaw drivers asking for payment just to take a photo of him and his vehicle. Ah right, i forgot it’s a tourist area.
 


 

The Dutch and Portuguese influence is prominent in Melaka and many relics are left marking their heritage.

Fort A Famosa also meaning “The Famous” in Portuguese is ironically fittingly named. The 500 year old Portuguese monument  is among the oldest surviving European architectural remains in Asia. It is quite the star of Melaka and Malaysia; Fort A Famosa goes hand in hand with Melaka really.

Once upon a time, A Famosa was a fortress of four major towers; a vital link in the Spice Route, now only a small gate house, Porta de Santiago is still standing.
 


 

The fort is beautiful in a way but i was slightly disappointed. Perhaps having seen the majestic Angkor Wat in Cambodia and ancient temples in Bali, this pales in comparison. I shouldn’t compare but there is just so… so little of the fortress to see, so little to absorb.
 


 

There are steps from behind the A Famosa leading up to St. Paul’s Hill. There are 121 steps in all and as you walk along them you will meet friendly peddlers selling trinkets and souvenirs and artists who will casually chat you up and offer to draw a portrait of you (for a price of course).

The old Dutch tombs scattered through the hill reminded me of the rich history of the site.

I remember smiling to myself and feeling quite serene walking up the steps albeit a little breathless from the leg exercise.

And i remember absolutely loving what i saw when we finally reached the top.
 


 

The charming ruin of St. Paul’s Church looms in the background while more foldable tables with all sorts of knickknack – key-chains, pen holders, wooden clarinets, etc, set up by eager sellers. Visitors were offered photo opportunity with a poor white parrot and a python which both i guess had seen way too many camera-flashes in their lifetime.

I’m not exaggerating but as we stepped into the ruins, an aged but charismatic street singer sitting by the entrance started strumming his guitar and singing a hypnotic tune. I couldn’t recognize the song but the melody was distinctly Portuguese.

For a second i closed my eyes, bewitched and completely immersed in the charm of the monument.
 


 

“St. Paul’s Church was originally built in 1521 by Duarte Coelho; a dedication to Virgin Mary for saving his life in the South China Sea. It is also known as Nossa Senhora da Annunciada (Our Lady of Grace) or the Nossa Senhora da Annunciada (Our Lady of the Hill).

The church was handed over to Society of Jesus in 1548, the deed received by St. Francis Xavier. It has been enlarged in 1556 and a belfry tower was added on 1590.”

 


 

They say Melaka could get really hot compared to Kuala Lumpur. I was considerably worried that it’ll get too humid so i made sure i slapped on enough sunblock before we left. As it turned out, the weather was exquisite; the sun warming our skin while a gentle breeze blowing through our hair.

Surrounding us is the walls made of beautiful red laterite stones, stained and worn down by age. Blending in are the modern fixtures here and there to support the structure from even more ruin.

It was romantic in a peaceful, nostalgic kind of way. I wished i had a picnic basket. It’ll be nice just to sit here and take it all in.
 


 

At one time the nave of the church was used as a Dutch churchyard. Many of those buried here were people of distinction.

The old tombstones scattered around the vicinity now are affixed to the walls reminding us of the history of the place and the people that had once called Malacca home, even a temporary one. The stones were meticulously carved; some simple with few Latin or Portuguese inscriptions while others were decorated with carvings of swords, skulls, sails and kancil even.

I felt a lump rise in my throat as i went from tombstone to tombstone reading the small faded translation. There were tombstones of families and children as young as 5 years old laid to rest here.
 


 

Further in is a wire mesh cage marking the place where Francis Xavier was briefly interred (for 9 months) in an open grave before delivered to Goa.

Legend has it that Xavier became ill at Shangchuan island in the South China Sea and before his death he instructed the sailors to return his bones to Goa. The body was buried in St. Paul’s Church temporarily before it was shipped back to Goa. When it was time to ship Francis Xavier’s body to Goa, the coffin was brought on board. The coffin was opened and they found the body in a condition as fresh as it had been when first buried. When one of Xavier’s fingers was cut off, blood even seemed to flow.
 


 

Whatever it is, the vault is obviously some kind of a wishing well now full of money and coins of different nations dropped by believers, well wishers and perhaps most probably by tourist leaving their globetrotting trail.
 


 

On a sad note, i’m utterly disheartened by the evident vandalism the church had endured through the years. On the interior of the church where it is shaded from the sun and the paint on the wall has yet to peel, were obvious doodles and scrawling.

“XXX was here”

“YYY love XXX”

“XY forever”

“Call me at 12345678″

This on a monument that is supposed to be a proud heritage of the country. It’s humiliating.

There should be a stricter rules and security guards manning the place.
 


 

Facing the shoreline of Straits of Melaka, is the bell tower with a trap door. The statue of St. Francis Xavier with a missing right arm stands overlooking the view below.

Facts shows that the day after the statue was consecrated, a large casuarina tree fell on it, breaking off its right arm. Coincidentally, Xavier’s actual right forearm which Xavier used to bless and baptize his converts was detached from its body and has been displayed in a silver reliquary at the main Jesuit church in Rome.
 


 

A serene feeling washed over me as i gaze out into the sight beyond; Taming Sari Tower rising into the skyline.
 


 
 

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