Today I took a trip to Haw Par Villa, which used to be Tiger Balm Gardens. The little jars of Tiger Balm my dad kept in his tennis bag were a mysterious sign of his past life in Singapore when I was a child, so I came to uncover the myth.
It's a quiet day, after a thundery night. Haw Par Villa is under construction, but the statues and dioramas are still visible for the few groups who've come by.
For Singaporeans, the Villa is a famous school trip spot and its bright and violent characters have been the villains of many a Singaporean bad dream.
For Singaporeans, the Villa is a famous school trip spot and its bright and violent characters have been the villains of many a Singaporean bad dream.
Reading the ancient stories as I climb around owls and tigers, gentle monks and spear-wielding thieves, I try to collect some knowledge about these founding myths of Chinese culture, but the characters are so loud and strange that they jump in together and soon they're just one big pile of myth.
There's the Monkey God, a clever-looking blue-haired upstanding monkey who can travel many miles on a cloud. There's poor Pigsy, cursed because lust always gets the better of him. There's Madame White Snake and her brave son; Scarlet Child soaring in on wheels made of fire; and laughing at everybody is the Buddha, with a giant, rain-stained belly.
I may be not much more the wiser about my Chinese mythology, but the Haw Par Villa has a mythology all its own that I think I understand quite well!
There's the Monkey God, a clever-looking blue-haired upstanding monkey who can travel many miles on a cloud. There's poor Pigsy, cursed because lust always gets the better of him. There's Madame White Snake and her brave son; Scarlet Child soaring in on wheels made of fire; and laughing at everybody is the Buddha, with a giant, rain-stained belly.
I may be not much more the wiser about my Chinese mythology, but the Haw Par Villa has a mythology all its own that I think I understand quite well!
