Digging into the Jonker’s Heritage in Malaysia

This is the first post about Malaysia, and among the many places I have written about thus far, this is both geographically and sentimentally the closest to home.

Malacca/Melaka was the fountainhead of the Malay Sultanates in Malaysia but, as chance would have it, the man at the helm of the state today is the Governor (“Yang di-Pertua Negeri”) rather than a Muslim sovereign.

Dotted across the city today are many colonial buildings left behind by the Portuguese, the Dutch and the British: the A Famosa fortress, the Stadthuys city hall, the convent schools and the churches. But the highlight of Melaka’s history, to me, is the influx of Chinese immigrants from the 15th through to the 17th century. Their escape from economic hardship in China resulted in the unique Sino-Malay culture that shapes the identity of Melaka today. The Peranakan, or the Baba-Nyonya (Baba for the men and Nyonya for the women), are Chinese descendants who married locals and adopted a large part of Nusantara customs.

Jonker Street used to be the Chinatown of Melaka, where wealthy Peranakans lived and carried out their business activities. Heritage houses flank the road, but delve deeper and you will realise that it is more than just a street; it is a network of cultural channels that cross and interconnect, much like different cinematic plots woven together to become a timeless story.

Tilt your desktop screen forward and you will get a clearer picture of the inside of the house above. To the left of its door hang pairs of colourful terompah shoes, heavy with Dutch influence.

There are antique dealers, Chinese temples and souvenir stalls. There are also boutiques where you can find witty T-shirts, as well as a fascinating range of jewellery and textiles. Food shops selling different types of local produce are abundant, from blocks of palm sugar (“gula melaka”) to bottles of shrimp paste and toffee-like treats (“dodol”), as well as pre-packed seasonings. I grinned a little upon seeing traditional toys like wooden pistols and hand catapults that my grandmother used to buy me. They were not as exciting as games on an iPad, but at least they were real, tangible, and stirred the imagination.

Traditional Peranakan costume fridge magnet.

A curious tourist.

A cobbler!

Walls decorated with festive Chinese paper-cuttings and spring couplets.

My favourite place for lunch will always be Jonker 88, one of those gems where you could find me slurping noisily from a large bowl of laksa and topping up my already filled-to-the-brim stomach with durian cendol… all amidst a hungry crowd inside an old Chinese quadrangle.

Walls are covered in a mishmash of vintage photos, religious paintings, leftover banknotes and Mao’s propaganda. People jostle about, waiting for a place to sit. The stonkingly good noodles and the full-cream shaved ice—what’s the real draw? The food or the atmosphere? The line between the two is almost unnoticeable.

On a friendly note, put on your flip-flops and sun cream. Jonker Street is likely to leave you toasted, if not baked, under the sun for the entire day.

With love x