In the Market
There was this one Sunday morning, I was at a bedok hawker centre having breakfast, and right next to the hawker centre was a wet market, I have so often gone there to eat, but I have little, or even never walked into the wet market, I’d rather wait outside for my parents to finish, buying whatever they need to buy, I always thought of markets as this dirty and smelly places, and I really didn’t want to be there.
Not until that day, I don’t know why, but I decided to go, and then something moved me, I saw the market as this place, that was so Singapore, all around me I hear people speaking in their dialects, buying vegetable, and asking for the price. Malay Chinese Indian, it was a placed filled with everything Singapore, and yet I felt like I was a world away.
I thought, why didn’t I want to go to the market? Was it the perception that I had prior to this? And then I thought, how nice would it be if I could simply tell the stories of all these people who works at the market, how nice would it be to be able to document and record down their thoughts and what they thought about this world.
It was such a different environment, for a moment I was intrigued, and the next mesmerized, by the flow of culture and human side of this place.
