CNA – When Angeline Kong entered primary one, she had to choose a mother tongue language. As a young girl who grew up in a Peranakan household in Singapore in the 1970s, the guide of Katong Antique House felt her choice was clear: It had to be Malay.
After all, that was the language she spoke at home with her mum and grandmother, her Mahmah (grandmother in Baba Malay).
However, her mother said no. She told Kong that even though they didn’t speak Mandarin, Kong should learn Mandarin in school as a way to connect with the other half of her roots.
“Most of my years growing up, I was confused,” Kong said. “Because even though I’m Chinese, I’m also a bit Malay – I’m a mix between those two, which makes me Peranakan.
But that also made me feel as if I was neither here nor there.”
Kong spent most of her childhood in Toa Payoh and Ang Mo Kio, where she was raised with two younger brothers in a household ruled by a strict mother and an even stricter grandmother. Her father passed away when she was three-years-old.
“My Mahmah would always tell me, ‘Girl, never forget that you are Peranakan’,” Kong said.
Afraid to ask what that meant for fear of being scolded, Kong tried to figure out what being Peranakan meant by observing her elders.
For her grandma, the sarong kebaya and kasut manek (beaded slippers) were everyday wear. Her grandma and mum were fluent in Hokkien, Malay and English, and were meticulous in caring for their home. They also had an appreciation for traditional Peranakan craftwork and artistry, such as beaded decorations and printed tiles.
KINDLING HER LOVE OF PERANAKAN CULTURE THROUGH BEADING
“When I was 30, as I was preparing for my wedding,” Kong said. “I suddenly kept thinking, ‘What if I wore a ceremonial Peranakan outfit for my wedding?’
“Throughout my teens and early 20s, I wouldn’t even wear a kebaya unless it was for special occasions like Chinese New Year,” she said. “But for my wedding, my heart was set on a traditional wedding outfit and my husband, who is not Peranakan, was willing to respect my wishes.
“Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to get the very intricate outfits tailor-made in Malaysia in time for my wedding in 1997,” she said.
It was around this period that, to make up for what she missed during her wedding, Kong started paying closer attention to the details of traditional Peranakan wear.
“In creating kasut manek and practising the artwork of the beads, I get to see those (Peranakan) stories and values,” she said.
She was particularly drawn to kasut manek, as she had noticed how her grandmother and mum would always wear them. She was determined to learn the craft.
She happened to come across a magazine in which Bebe Seet, an expert on Peranakan fashion, was featured alongside her embroidery and beadwork classes.
“That day itself, I called the number that was included in the article and asked Bebe Seet to please accept me into her classes. Thankfully, she did,” Kong said.
Traditionally used by Nyonyas to showcase their patience, attention to detail and endurance, beadwork has become a personal way for Kong to connect with her past and showcase her heritage.
“My mum and Mahmah would share so many Peranakan stories and values with me and my brothers when we were growing up,” she said. “In creating kasut manek and practising the artwork of the beads, I get to see those stories and values too.”
A FATHER FIGURE WHO PROPELLED HER LOVE FOR PERANAKAN CULTURE
In her free time away from her full-time job in the office, Kong started attending events and programmes by The Peranakan Association Singapore, where she met and befriended other Peranakans.
Interacting with those who shared her heritage moved her – it made her feel less alone and that she belonged somewhere.
In 1999, she met the late Peter Wee, known as Baba Peter to the Peranakan community. He was the owner of Katong Antique House, a shophouse-turned-museum dedicated to Peranakan culture, at East Coast Road.
The two became close friends and she started spending more time at Katong Antique House. She gave beadwork and embroidery demonstrations, led tours to explain the exhibits there, and even modelled the sarong kebaya. Wee became a father figure to her.
She said, “Through his generosity, involvement in the community and passion for preserving traditional heritage, he taught me a lot about what it meant to be Peranakan.”
At Katong Antique House, every room and corner is filled with traditional Peranakan items that Wee collected, bought and traded over the decades.
Some of the antiques were bought at auctions in Penang and Malacca, while some were collected by Wee from Peranakan families in Singapore who were emigrating and couldn’t take everything with them.
Kong’s love of Peranakan culture grew so greatly that in the 1990s, even though her home was far from the House, the distance was no issue for her. “What mattered more was that I could do what I love,” she said.
Kong now lives 10 minutes away from Katong Antique House with her husband of 26 years.
She felt it keenly when her Peranakan elders passed away: Her mum, in 2008; Wee, in 2018 and her Mahmah in 2019.
“I miss them dearly,” she said. “Since I spend the weekdays at my day job in the office, every weekend, I spend time in the House to share about our culture and craftwork – it’s a way for me to keep their legacy, stories and memories alive.
“People do ask what I’d feel if one day this house is no more,” she said. “I think it’s a sad thought, but as much as I love to preserve heritage, I understand that nothing truly lasts, and that’s okay.”
Preserving Peranakan heritage can come in different ways other than craftwork and taking care of antiques. “As long as people know their history, sometimes that’s enough,” Kong said.
Although she has no children of her own, Kong has nieces and nephews to whom she would say, just like her Mahmah did to her, “Always remember you are Peranakan.”
“What those of us still here can do is to keep doing whatever we can to keep our tradition alive,” she said.
“And then, we hope for the best for whatever comes tomorrow.” – Izza Haziqah Abdul Rahman