Word of mouth

Lim Kueh Poh did not know that 14 February 1949 was going to be a special day. His friend, the tung shu almanac seller, had not given him any special dates; neither had the fortune-teller’s little bird picked up any auspiciously numbered bamboo sticks.

As usual, he arrived at the corner of Trengganu and Temple Streets, deep in Singapore’s Chinatown, at four o’clock in the afternoon. As usual, his body was bent under the weight of his portable kitchen which he carried as two loads on either end of his kanda stick. On one end hung his makeshift stove, hand-fashioned from a large oil drum, with its separate spaces for heating both the water and the broth. Spoons and chopsticks draped around its lid like a tribal necklace. On the other end hung a few stools and a large box-like affair which served as a makeshift table.