Thai-Chinese Heritage in Bangkok

On our recent trip to Asia, I was delighted to visit Bangkok, Thailand’s vibrant capital. Since Brian and I did not particularly enjoy our 2019 visit to Thailand, I was eager to return and explore the cosmopolitan side of Thailand. Perhaps we were just not the types of travelers who prefer urban energy over a tropical beach holiday. We certainly enjoyed the opportunity to check out the city’s numerous palaces and temples during our three-day stay, but what made this trip special was that I was able to meet up with my cousin, Kevin.

The prayer hall of Wat Mangkon Kamalawat.

Kevin used to stay with my family when I first immigrated to California, and I haven’t seen him for over two decades. I want to take advantage of this opportunity to catch up and see how he acclimated to life in Thailand. It appears that they have no plans to relocate back to Taiwan or the United States anytime soon. As an immigrant myself, I was keen to see how his family, particularly their two daughters, grapples with the issues of cultural identity as ethnic Chinese in Thailand. Do they identify as Thai, Chinese, or Taiwanese?

Although Thai Chinese represent only 15% of the population, they are by far the largest ethnic minority and have historically been influential across a broad section of Thai society. Six out of the last ten Thai prime ministers are of part-Chinese descent, including the incumbent, Paetongtarn Shinawatra. Perhaps more symbolically, King Rama I, the founding monarch of the current Thai royal house, is himself of half-Chinese descent. Unlike other countries in the region, such as Vietnam and Indonesia, the anti-Chinese sentiment has been largely held in check in Thailand. It is one aspect of Thailand that warrants a look for any visitors to Bangkok.

Bangkok Chinatown

Not surprisingly, the center of Bangkok’s Thai Chinese community is Chinatown. The history of this Chinatown dates back as far as Bangkok itself. When the royal family relocated the capital here from Ayutthaya, King Taksin, who was part Chinese himself, enlisted the help of Teochew merchants from southeastern China to construct his new capital. When Taksin was overthrown by King Rama I in 1782, the Chinese community was relocated to Sampheng, a swampy area outside the fortified walls. As the settlement expands, Sampheng evolves into the Chinatown we see today.

Thai Chinese in Bangkok embody a mercantile heritage closely tied to the liberalization of global trade. Following the signing of the Bowring Treaty, international trade expanded significantly, making Bangkok one of the most important trading hubs in Southeast Asia. It did not take long for Chinatown to become Bangkok’s main commercial center. Its commercial importance also made this one of the densest neighborhoods in the country. Unsurprisingly, Chinatown also became a notable hub for entertainment and a red-light district.

The commercial thoroughfare of Chinatown is Yaowarat Road. The stretch running through the center is particularly popular with visitors, mainly due to the numerous neon advertisements hanging from the buildings and street food offerings. Having grown up in Taiwan, the streetscape here is familiar to me. Unregulated billboards were such a menace in Taiwan, so I was amused by the fact that Yaowarat Road has become such an Instagramable spot for foreign visitors. In the age of digital advertising, I suppose the place’s retro billboards are a place of nostalgia for a bygone era.

Like any other Chinatown around the world, this is an excellent place for affordable street food. However, our visit coincided with Songkran, which is the least optimal time for street food. While I expected most of the city to be quiet, I was surprised that most of Chinatown appeared abandoned. The Chinese are known for being entrepreneurial, and I mistakenly thought only the lunar new year would shut Chinatown down. It was jarring to see how light the traffic and crowd were. There were only a couple of restaurants open during our visit. We count ourselves very lucky that one of the very few open eateries is the Michelin-listed Nai Ek Roll Noodle. The famous Thai-Chinese roll noodle was actually our first meal in Bangkok.

With most stores shuttered for Songkran, the most active section of Chinatown is the market street of Sampheng. The wholesale market was once a major distribution center for fresh foods and imports. But like other traditional markets in Bangkok, the businesses had gone into precipitous decline since the rise of e-commerce. As much as we would like to see rows and rows of shops selling traditional Chinese medicines and dried goods, most items on offer here are mass-produced goods like cell phone cases and fashion accessories. Because of Songkran, the most popular items for sale were the wide variety of water guns.

Having visited Manhattan’s Chinatown for over a decade, there is something very familiar about Bangkok’s Chinatown. As a historical ethnic enclave, Chinatown is a spiritual center of early immigrants and their legacy. As immigration from China increased after the Chinese Civil War, generations of new immigrants set up their separate communities, often organizing themselves among those from the same region of China. New Chinatowns sprang up across the cities. While new immigrants still identify with the original Chinatown as a spiritual center, the entire neighborhood could sometimes feel like a time warp.

Wat Mangkon Kamalawat is the religious and spiritual center of Thai Chinese.

The spiritual center of the Thai Chinese community is probably Wat Mangkon Kamalawat. Translated as Dragon Lotus Temple, the complex was founded in 1871 by a Teochew monk and is named after local lotus seeds that supposedly have extraordinary medicinal powers. The temple is hidden in a courtyard and is accessible via rather conspicuous entrances from the main roads. The temple looks familiar to me, as I grew up visiting in Taiwan. The first difference I noticed was the modesty dress code, barring visitors with shorts or exposed shoulders. That said, I don’t think they enforced the rules during our visits.

The complex followed a traditional Chinese temple layout, and it was comfortably familiar to me. Because my family has never been religious, I am a horrible tour guide to explain all the deities to Brian. Our best point of reference would be the Mengjia Longshan Temple in Taipei. Wat Mangkon Kamalawat may be a lot older, but the building lacks the layer of patina visitors would expect. I may be biased, but I could honestly say the temple in Taipei was far more enjoyable and atmospheric for visitors.

Museum Siam

At the main entrance to Wat Mangkon Kamalawat, I spotted a giant portrait of the Thai king hanging high above. I found the “Thain-ess” of this Thai Chinese temple fascinating. The question of Thai-ness is an interesting one, and Bangkok happens to have just one such museum to answer that question. A few blocks away from the world-famous Wat Pho is the Museum Siam, a “discovery museum” dedicated to exploring the meaning of national identity and Thailand’s relationships with other cultures in the region. In the era of globalization and increased cross-border migration, issues related to national identity are more relevant than ever for a multi-ethnic nation like Thailand.

Housed inside the former Ministry of Commerce office building, Museum Siam is surprisingly compact. It wasn't aware of what it means to be a “discovery” museum, and it wasn’t long before Brian said that the target audience is children. Since we knew so little about Thailand, a children's museum was just fine with us. With the help of a free audioguide, the museum tells an abridged history of Thailand with an international perspective. The exhibit first showcases some of the symbols that are most quintessentially Thai, such as the royal throne and ceremonial costume of the Ayutthaya period. The subsequent galleries gradually introduce different lesser-known symbols of Thai identity, such as Chut Thai and Sala Thai.

For me, the most significant section of the museum is the gallery, which features a tired podium filled with mannequins. The tiers represent various levels of “Thai-ness”, at least according to the curator’s perspective. At the top is a representation of Ravana, the ultimate divinity in Thai Buddhism. Near the bottom are water-gun-wielding participants of Songkran, along with a statue of Ronald McDonald giving the Thai wai greeting gesture. The levels of “Thai-ness” are determined by three pillars: nation, religion, and king. This national hegemony is said to be a 20th-century invention and a tool for Thaisification.

While many contemporary Thai scholars raised objections to these three pillars of Thai-ness, it was far from me to judge. Flawed or not, this metric does help us to evaluate how many Thais assess their surroundings and cultural traditions. Few things could embody all three elements, so I could not help but wonder whether this understanding of Thai-ness is a project by the Thai military to elevate the monarchy in support of their political ambitions. Thailand’s strict Lèse-majesté laws certainly cement the government’s monopoly of the Thai identity.

An exhibit on the Thailand’s religious diversity.

The subsequent galleries also delve into individual schemes, including the complexity of culinary heritage and religious practices in Thailand. My favorite gallery addresses the mismatch between the imaginary, photogenic Thailand and the low-brow realities of day-to-day Thai society. Despite the three pillars mentioned earlier, Thai-ness should come from everywhere, not just in museum galleries or the royal palaces. If you think about it, are the river ferry boats used by thousands of Bangkokians daily any less Thai than the royal barges hidden away in the museum?

Talat Noi

On our last morning in Bangkok, we had just a few hours to spare before heading to Suvarnabhumi Airport to catch our flight to Taipei. The one place I was eager to check off my list was the historic neighborhood of Talat Noi, a tranquil alternative to the hustle and bustle of Yaowarat Road. Situated just south of Chinatown, this area retains its residential character due to its relative physical isolation from major train lines. Although the name Talat Noi may mean “small fresh market” in Thai, there is no marketplace here nowadays. The name supposedly derives from the nickname of a daughter of a wealthy landowning family in this area.

What made Talat Noi so charming is its maze-like, tangled streets. We were extremely nervous about our Grab driver as soon as we entered the neighborhood. Behind the outward urban decay, this place is bustling with life. People still do laundry in the streets; residents have their front doors open and use their living rooms as part of the communal space among neighbors. The streetscape and ambiance very much remind me of Taiwan from my childhood. As we were visiting during the early morning, it was a sleepy place devoid of tourists.

Long associated with Thai-Chinese heritage, Talat Noi has its fair share of historical temples. However, the definite highlight was So Heng Tai Mansion. This 19th-century courtyard house was the home to a prominent Thai-Chinese family of Hokkien-Teochew ancestry. The extended family includes a long line of noted Thai businessmen, politicians, and cultural figures. The impressive mansion is of the typical Hokkien style, characterized by graceful swallowtail roofs and cut-porcelain carvings. Amazingly, this two-hundred-year-old mansion is still owned by the same family and is open to the public six days a week.

So Heng Tai Mansion has a 14-feet-deep dive pool in the courtyard.

Despite the prominence and success of the extended family, their ancestral shrine was in surprisingly poor condition. The rightful owner, an eighth-generation descendant, worked hard to keep the property within the family, turning down frequent offers from developers. Like most visitors, we immediately thought that the building could be easily transformed into an excellent boutique hotel or a high-end restaurant. Right now, the building seemed to hang on by a thread, charging a nominal admission fee and selling tea and simple, homemade pastries. The house remains a private residence for the most part.

The financial plight of So Heng Tai Mansion highlights the neglect of civic and political leaders regarding the issue of historical preservation. There were very few channels for the government to fund the preservation of historically significant properties that are privately owned. When the private developer demolished the former British embassy building to make way for a modern shopping mall, it sparked a discussion on the lack of effort for historical preservation. In the case of So Heng Tai Mansion, the family decided to construct a 14-deep diving pool to generate alternative income. The approximate $25,000 in annual revenue it generated barely covered the basic maintenance for the property.

What made Talat Noi so enjoyable was the absence of blockbuster landmarks. One of the more notable attractions is the Talat Noi Museum, as well as the nearby Phanurangsi Pier. This petite community museum is free to visit and tells the intimate story of the neighborhood. The three-level exhibits are well curated and filled with items of nostalgia that I could easily recognize. This community museum focuses on everyday life, including religious worship, weddings, and traditional Chinese festivals. I could see that the exhibit is geared toward young families, but I found it utterly charming.

Walking around the neighborhood, visitors would quickly discover that the dominant industry here is scrap metal. It embodies the traditional “waste not, want not” mentality that is deeply ingrained in Chinese culture. Piles and piles of metal parts lined the narrow lanes, creating a sensory experience filled with the sounds and scents of the metal works. These mom-and-pop operations seem to cement the close-knit community. In rapidly changing Bangkok, one can’t help but wonder whether such a traditional industry will be passed down to the younger generation.

The main business here is scrap metal recycling.

Although Talat Noi is primarily known as a Tahi-Chinese neighborhood, this area was historically a port of arrival for immigrants from around the world. The first wave of arrival was the Portuguese, who had a long history of trade with the Kingdom of Siam. Today, the only relic of the Portuguese heritage here is the Holy Rosary Church. Unfortunately, the Gothic Revival church we see today is not the Portuguese original. However, the multicultural heritage of Talat Noi still endures. In recent years, Talat Noi has emerged as an unexpected cultural destination for both Thai and international tourists.

Today, Talat Noi is known for its impressive collection of outdoor murals. While I could not find much on the genesis of this recent phenomenon, I suspect it has something to do with Talat Noi’s narrow lanes. When we were in Valparaíso, Chile, earlier this year, the local guide explained that many mural traditions started in narrow alleyways to avoid law enforcement. I am not sure this was the case in Talat Noi, but it is clear that social media propelled Talat Noi into the tourist hotspot it is today. Hidden among the residential lanes are numerous hipster cafes and boutiques. By all accounts, Talat Noi has managed to keep gentrification at bay at least for now. However, I would not be surprised to see a Starbucks here in the next five years.

▲

Bangkok Chinatown

Museum Siam

Talat Noi

The Curious World of Jim Thompson

A Fling With Torres del Paine