I took a walk down St. Georges Terrace and took a picture of some of the “old” buildings. As old as they are, some of them look rather new. Buildings rich with history. And there's something else.. All of them stand out in the midst of modern skyscrapers. At one point in time, they could easily be the tallest infrastructure architects ever dreamed of designing. Now they seemed drowned by the wave of modern, more geometric and taller buildings dotting the city like mushrooms.
I asked my other half, who was born and brought up in Australia, about the Barrack Arch. His response: What barrack arch? So what significance do these monuments have to Australians? Would they be equally significant to the newer generation as they would to the first generation Australians?
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| The St. Georges Cathedral 2011 |
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| The Perth Town Hall 2011 |
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| The Barrack Arch 2011 |
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| The Cloisters 2011 |
After reading Peter Read's Our Lost Drowned Town in the Valley: Perceptions of the Inundation of Adaminaby, my very initial thought was– devastating! I can, to a certain extent, relate to the residents of Adaminaby even though I can't say my grief will ever be on equal par to theirs. Regardless, my grief is for a place which harbours my childhood memories. Mine is not for a town, but for a school. The old single-storey Sembawang Primary School (funnily the school wasn't located in Sembawang but in the Yishun/Khatib district instead) was one of the smallest primary schools in modern Singapore. Built during the British colonial times, it had 7 classrooms, 1 small library that was also used as a music room, 1 small teachers' lounge, 1 small audio video room for whenever we had guest speakers (which was seldom), 2 girls' and 2 boys' toilets, an outdoor junior badminton and basketball court, a decent size canteen, a tiny outdoor stage area, 2 grassy sun courts and a large field. I can still remember the names and faces of most of the kids I went to school with, and the teachers. What fond memories they are. No, fond is an understatement.
The “minty” smell of morning dew during the daily 8am assemblies turned me into a “morning person”.
Recess time meant whipping out (read: showing off) the self-made thick chain of rubber bands for an anticipated game of “Zero Point”– an all girls jumping game– with friends.
In primary two, my teachers frequently caught me day dreaming in class and complained to Mama.
My first school camp. Literally. The team-bonding camp was held on the school ground; we camped on one of the grassy sun courts.
I participated in my first (and only) school beauty pageant.
My first crush... which didn't involve Hollywood actors.
My first dried seaweed.
The very first ghost tale I heard was told by the school caretaker, which mentioned the dilapidated 4-storey teachers' quarter right next to the school canteen. I suspected that was only to deter us from going on one of our notorious “Famous Five” explorations, but I didn't want to risk it just in case.
I could never sleep the night before the school's annual sports' day, from all the excitement. That was the only time when Mama would let me run around barefooted (still love the feel of morning dew on the soles of my feet), though that wasn't the only reason for excitement.. The Milo truck. The endless top ups of cold milky Milo a child could ever drink.
My first encounter with the amazing (thorny) mimosa plants.. without shoes.
My primary school was demolished in late 1990s, to make way for one of the first government condominiums in Singapore. I recognise it to be a somewhat similar situation to Adaminaby, where the governing power undervalued the nostalgia attached to the old place and deemed it not any more significant than the new project. The demolition was “in the best interest of the nation”. Along with the debris and rubble, went the tale of the school that used to stand there. I wish I could show you pictures, but besides the map of the site where it used to be (see the link below), I've nothing.
The old Sembawang primary school stood where Euphony Gardens condominium is now.
Googling “Sembawang Primary School” would only bring up the pictures and info of the new Sembawang school, which was built a couple of years later in the Sembawang district.
On the Yishun-Sembawang heritage trail, http://heritagetrails.sg/content/1673/Yishun_Sembawang_Trail.html
some of the places and schools mentioned were founded numerous years after the old Sembawang Primary School. Though Jalan Mata Ayer– where the old school was located– is along the trail, there is no mention of the school.
It is as if it never existed.
Who determines whether a building is to be heritage listed or not? The country's National Heritage Board or equivalent? On what grounds? Based on who's values?
I do resign to the fact that urban redevelopment is inevitable, but I believe as a nation we have to acknowledge the existence or previous existence of places and respect that they might hold sentimental value to other people, even though they're not of any significance to us personally. In my opinion, the more practical way to commemorate “loss places” would be to place sculptures and/or plaques on the site. However, if the place is more prominent, a bigger commemoration is only befitting. A good example of this is the memorial museum and performing arts complex built at Ground Zero, New York.
Individuals can also get involved in acknowledging the past uses of “loss places” by sharing stories and pictures with others through blogging, internet chat forums, community clubs, commemoration events etc. I found a couple of good blogs and chat forums on old Perth and Singapore:
I have to admit, after reading Namadgi: Sharing the High Country, I had conflicting thoughts about who should have more “rights” to the heritage of ANY place. Of course I say the easy solution is to get common consensus or meet halfway, but I guess it's never that easy when the parties have conflicting interests.
