The Red Thread
Authors: Dawn Farnham
A C
HINESE TALE OF LOVE AND FATE IN
1830
S
S
INGAPORE
{ T
HE
S
TRAITS
Q
UARTET
V
OL
.1 }
D
AWN
F
ARNHAM
Contents
Glossary
Ah ku
: Polite Cantonese term for Chinese women brought from China to Singapore to work as prostitutes
Ang mo
: A Hokkien term literally meaning âred hair' that is used to refer to Caucasians
Baju panjang
: Popular in the nineteenth century among
nonyas
, it was a loose, calf-length tunic, with sleeves tapering at the wrists that was worn over a
sarong. A
more conservative precursor to the shorter
baju kebaya
blouse popularised in the early twentieth century
Bangsal
: The Malay word for shed or jungle lean-to
Batik: A
wax-resist dyeing technique used on textiles,especially
sarongs
, and the name for the textiles it has been applied to
Cha-li
: Betrothal gifts from a groom's family to a bride's family usually contained tea, money, cakes, poultry, sweetmeats and wine but the gift of tea was such an important part of this ritual that the gifts became known collectively as
cha-li
, or âtea presents'
Chandu
: The Malay word for processed opium ready for smoking
Cherki
: Card game popular in the Peranakan community
Chinchew
: Chinese middlemen who traded regionally, travelling from port to port
Chunam
: A fine stucco based on very pure or shell-lime, used for the highest quality finishes, often to external walls and roofs
Jamu
: Traditional herbal medicine from Indonesia and Malaysia
Munshi: A degree in South Asia, that is given after passing a certain course of basic reading, writing and maths.The word munshi also became the name of a profession after munshies were hired as clerks in the government in British India
Orang laut
: The Malay term
orang laut
means sea people.Historically the
orang laut
were principally pirates
Pak chindek
: Wedding master of ceremonies who would accompany the groom and help him with the many marriage rites
Peranakan
: Descendents of intermarriages between early Chinese male settlers in the Straits Settlements (Penang, Malacca and Singapore) and local Malay women. This Chinese sub-ethnic group adopted some cultural traits from the Malay community, as seen in their cuisine, dress and language, but also adopted many European customs thus elevating their social standing in relation to the
singkeh
or China-born immigrants.Also known as Straits Chinese. The men are known as Baba, the women as Nonya (or Nyonya)
Sampan
: A relatively flat bottomed Chinese wooden boat. In Cantonese the term literally means âthree planks'
Sangkek um
: Wedding mistress of ceremonies who would accompany the bride and help her with the many marriage rites
Tao
: Chinese character often translated as âway' or âpath'.It is based on the understanding that the only constant in the universe is change
Tongkang
: Bumboats, lighters or sea-going barges used in the Malay Archipelago for transporting goods from ship to shore and vice-versa
Towkay
: Chinese merchant
Wayang kulit
: Shadow puppets that are prevalent in Java and Bali
Wu wei
: Important tenet of Taoism that involves when to act and when not to act. The aim of
wu wei
is to achieve a state of perfect equilibrium
Prologue
âAn invisible red thread connects those who are destined to meet, regardless of time, place or circumstance.
The thread may stretch or tangle but will never break.'
âThe Legend of The Red Thread
The wind tasted red. Pu-erh tea, sorghum liquor, dark vinegar and schisandra.
Red aromas on the air. Smoke of aloe's wood and dragon's blood. Incense in the mind.
Their skin felt seared by cool rays, brushed by the wet silk of the sun's sleeve.
Thunder rolled far away, its growl rippling and fading beyond their ears. Red
chi
dragons playing.
Eyes, pinpricks, rising and falling on the enchanted swell, filled with hues. Squinting light.
The coolies sat, hushed, flushed.
Two crimson suns moved in the coral sky, one rising astern and the other dripping into the blood-red sea ahead of the junk. Land and sky blurred into all the shades of fire.
So it was true.
The slanted sails were redder than the sea, the colour of vermillion seals, stretched and straining on the wind. Scarlet pennants on the top gallants of the masts danced in the gusting breeze. The captain stood like a mandarin on the high prow, his long robe stained magenta.
No sound could be heard now, save the groaning of the heavy rigging, the sigh of the wind and the deep splashes of the unnatural sea.
The junk had left China from the port of Amoy and headed down the southern coast past the Zhenyantou pillar of rock, which stuck like a white needle straight out of the sea. Junks had followed this route for thousands of years. The captain's maps were ragged copies of copies of the charts of maritime passages of long-dead Chinese sailors. The sea deepened where the Pearl River emptied into it, as the junk followed the Kwangtung coast, before turning south to pass east of Hainan Island.
Here a storm had caught the ship, testing its crew to the breaking point, each man holding fast to ropes, to spars, to life, as best he could.
When it calmed, bodies were dropped overboard into the deep sea, cooked rice in their mouths against hunger in the underworld, heads and arms wrapped in white cloth covered in twisted, red cloud-shaped characters that were talismans against their return as vengeful demons. Flames licked the joss paper hell money burning in the brass censer on the fore deck. Smoky sandalwood swirled round the beams and ropes of the rigging, the breath of the dead mounting skywards.
The captain carried a stock of these funereal items in a chest in a storeroom far from his cabin. In his years in this pig trade, he had used them at least once on every voyage. If it wasn't storms it was sickness. The coolie agent in Amoy was supposed to weed them out, but some made it past him, desperate to be taken, for there was hope on the ship and none on the land. Each man touched his amulet and gave silent thanks for his life. Copper cash, mirrored pa kua, carved peach stones, small Buddhas or tiny Kuan Yin, the compassionate ones; whatever it took to ward off evil.
Some of the ballast had been used to weigh down the corpses; their feet were tied to the ingots of pig lead. One ingot per pig was all the captain allowed, which meant that the bodies sometimes stood to attention in the water a little longer, the shrouded heads bobbing in a line in the ship's wake as the junk pulled away. But he and the crew were used to it.
The coolies' eyes were fixed on the blue paper-cuts of Zhong Kui, powerful queller of demons, which a crewman was busy pasting to the masts. Or they watched as the sailors purified the ship, sprinkling the decks and rails with realgar wine. Finally the captain poured a cup of the ruddy liquid over the bow as an offering to the Dragon King of the South Sea and his duty to the dead and the ocean was done.
He would have liked a rest, but not yet, for now he must navigate his ship between the long and deadly reefs and shoals of the Xisha Archipelago and the coast of Cochin China. At a small bay near the promontory of Cape Varella, he dropped anchor and waited until morning.
From here the junk must leave sight of land and head out across the open sea to the twin dragon horn peaks of Tuma Shan, the island the Malays called Pulau Tioman. This route, though perilous, would be safer than the pirate-infested coasts of the South China Sea. His ship was large and carried cannon: attack was unlikely, but this was pirate season. An old friend had perished in these waters only last year, cargo taken and thirty-three of his crew dead or sold into slavery. They'd been no match for the sixteen boats rowed by cut-throats who emerged swiftly from the dense mangrove swamps off Pahang, cutting them down as they drifted, windless. Better to take his chance with the pirate chief who had taken residence on Tioman. For trade in sea cucumbers and bird's nestsâgoods the Chinese prizedâhe offered a haven to the big junks from his own fleets, which regularly plundered the islands of the surrounding seas. For this reason the captain displayed prominently on the foremast a large and ornate
kris
. It had been given to him by the Raja of Pahang, to whom the chief owed some kind of allegiance.
It was always a risk. These islands could change hands at any time, but everything in these seas was a risk. This was the price they all paid for profit. In the green waters of Juara Bay, the ship dropped anchor for the night, the watch armed and ready despite the chief's assurances, for his human cargo was as attractive as silk or opium in the slave market at Endau. This night, though, passed quietly, only the snores and snuffles of his little piglets disturbing the peaceful swishing of small waves on the shore. The captain took on fresh water and, as the dawn crept up the sky, set sail for Point Romania and the vicious rocks of Pedra Branca. Here, where the South China Sea meets the Straits of Singapore, the five towering curved vermillion sails swung sharply to his order and the junk swept due west into the lowering sun.
The captain had seen the sky signs as they headed south. He knew his passengers were as superstitious as only ignorant Chinese coolies could be. It was near the mid-month, and here on the Equator the full moon chased the sun from east to west. At this time, he knew, the moon might appear aflame right in the middle of a clear blue sky. He deemed it wise to calm fears and avoid trouble by giving an explanation they would understand.