GEORGE TOWN: Armenian Street Park in Penang today is an oasis of calm and tranquillity, besieged on all sides by pre-war shophouses that are a key feature of the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organisation World Cultural Heritage Site.
The well-designated walking paths, carefully-landscaped lawns and strategically-placed flowerbeds filled with colourful blooms all add to the aesthetic value of this sanctuary, and contribute to the residents’ quality of life.
Those who live nearby or have been frequenting this place would surely have noticed this distinct transformation.
Located near the junction of Lebuh Armenian and Lebuh Acheh, this easily-accessible piece of real estate was once a rundown place, where bric-a-brac traders from as far away as Balik Pulau, Butterworth and even Taiping, held court every afternoon, come rain or shine.
Right at the onset of the revitalisation scheme in 2016,these second-hand goods peddlers gave way without fuss and now operate onasite near the Padang Brown Food Court, at the corner of Jalan Perak and Jalan Anson.
Despite the introduction of new features, the adjacent basketball court has resisted change by taking on the additional role of becoming a multipurpose event venue, especially during major religious celebrations such as the Hungry Ghost Festival, when restless spirits are believed to roam the world of the living.
HERITAGE
Just as in many places throughout Malaysia, this important event is also celebrated in this little corner here.
Throughout the period, which coincides with the seventh month of the Chinese lunar calendar, large tents erected over most parts of the basketball court become the focal point of the business community and residents as they make their way here, particularly on the 15th day, to make offerings to ancestors and appease spirits.
Nightly, the roadsides are lined with burning joss sticks and candles as families make food offerings and burn hell notes for their departed loved ones to use in the afterlife.
These household rituals complement the collective observance at the basketball court as both create unity within the family and community, which is the very root of the Confucian school of thought.
These rituals are believed to help the departed pass through the 18 courts of hell, where their souls face judgment and punishments before they can be reborn again.
With the surrounding streets filled with century-old pre-war shophouses, many occupants who have lived in them all their lives are more than willing to share stories about how this festival, an integral part of the Chinese community’s cultural heritage, was celebrated in the past.
On the first and last days of the seventh month, it is common to see women of the household offering food and burning paper garments by the rear entrance to the deity that is believed to guard this house section, and only venture further down the road to make offerings when it is closer to midnight.
At noon, on the 15th day, which fell on Aug 15 yesterday, a delectable array of dishes are placed at the altar and offered to deities and ancestors.
That night, wandering spirits are provided incense and served simple dishes and fruits on a banana leaf outside the gate entrance.
ORIGINS OF THE WEALTH GOD
At the same time, offerings are made on a larger scale on a community level as the temporary shelter at the basketball court becomes an abode to the paper effigies of officials who govern the realm of hell — the King of Hell himself and his four assistants, including the Wealth God.
Known also as the “Tall One”, the Wealth God was once human, who eked out a living as a peasant.
One day, while working in the fields, he became furious when his mother was late in bringing him food. In a fit of anger, he hit her, only to feel remorse after observing several nearby baby goats suckling milk from their mothers.
The show of boundless maternal love even by animals brought him to his senses and he felt bad for being cruel to his mother, who only had his interest at heart.
The next day, he raced towards his mother the moment she arrived with his lunch, hoping to kneel in front of her and ask for forgiveness. Instead, the poor lady was frightened out of her wits upon his approach, thinking that she would once again be abused.
She ran for her life and sought refuge in a well, where she eventually drowned. Upon her death, an ancestral tablet miraculously floated to the surface. Deeply saddened by the incident, the farmer brought the tablet home and began offering it prayers.
That incident was said to have given rise to the Chinese tradition of placing ancestral tablets of dearly departed loved ones on family altars. Not much was known about the farmer after the incident, but the macabre images of him at the Hungry Ghost Festival venue may offer clues.
Despite his status as the Wealth God, he is often depicted in an image that represented both death and mourning. Clothed in a coarse hemp mourning costume that is the usual attire of the eldest son at the funeral of a parent, the bamboo reinforced papier-mache sculpture of the Wealth God sports ghastly white face with red drops representing tears of blood streaming down his cheeks.
The morbid tone is further enhanced by an indication of death by hanging as an unusually long red tongue hangs from his mouth.
The upper portion of it is purposely painted black to signify the use of opium, the Wealth God’s favourite intoxicant.
The only association with prosperity on this effigy are the words “To see me is great luck”, written in Chinese on his tall hat that resembles an ancestral tablet.
KING OF HELL HOLDS COURT
The image of the Wealth God, however, pales in comparison with that of the King of Hell, whose dominates the altar.
He is portrayed as an imposing, brilliantly coloured, three-dimensional figure wearing the costume of a Chinese general.
His intimidating face is usually depicted in red or blue, with blazing flames for eyebrows and an extremely long tongue.
The small image of the Goddess of Mercy on top of his elaborate head-dress is a reminder of the belief among the Penang Chinese that the King of Hell is actually the transformation of Guan Yin, who is forced to take on this fearsome form to intimidate and gain control over the restless spirits during the seventh month.
To the locals, the Goddess of Mercy and the King of Hell represent a combination of benevolence and fierceness.
Social historians believe that the idea of uniting these deities with opposing characters into a singular figure can be traced to the early days of Penang, when secret societies held sway over nearly every aspect of the Chinese community.
Back then, it was an accepted norm to pay tribute or protection money to the fierce members of triads for them to ensure that peace prevailed in society.
Like the King of Hell, the fierce general who intimidates ghosts into dividing food and clothing fairly, secret society leaders relied on their ability to oppress others to maintain social discipline.
Today, secret society influence has waned significantly, and its hold on the organisation of religious events like the Hungry Ghost Festival has been taken over by street committees that comprise volunteers living within the vicinity.
On a chosen day during the seventh month, those interested in holding office would write their names on pieces of paper, which were then placed on the altar in front of the King of Hell.
Then, crescent shaped divination blocks were used to determine the suitability of each person. The 12 member committee formed, led by a chairman chosen among them, will be responsible for the organisation of the following year’s event.
REORGANISATION AND PROGRESS
During the 12-month duration, the committee collects money from businesses and residents, as well as hawkers in the area.
Up until the early 1980s, each individual subscription ranged from between RM3 and RM10, and the funds were used to pay for the entertainment, ritual and banquet costs incurred during the coming festival.
Although it is claimed that subscriptions were kept in the bank throughout the year, certain street committees have established provisions within their charter to make the funds available as short-term loans to selected members of the community.
Several weeks prior to the arrival of the seventh month, a spirit medium is invited to the home of the chairman, and the spirit of the King of Hell is invoked to seek advice on how best to conduct the rituals related to the approaching festival.
The details revealed during this meeting areaclosely-guarded secret as only the committee members are allowed to attend. The secretive nature of these meetings and the lack of transparency in the way funds were handled inevitably led to accusations of abuse by disgruntled members.
To keep things in check, a decision was made in 1974 to set up a Central Coordinating Committee to oversee the organisation of Hungry Ghost Festival events in Penang.
A year later, a set of by-laws drawn up stipulated that the Central Coordinating Committee would consist of 30 elected representatives drawn from approximately 130 participating street and area committees that administer the running of the festival in their own locality.
Apart from raising funds to make offerings to wandering spirits who do not have any descendants to perform any ritual for them, the substantial sum raised from the auctions is used to subsidise the following year’s festivities, as well as to help charitable organisations.
Over the years, the Central Coordinating Committee has funded projects for the community, such as the establishment of a hospital to aid the less fortunate and support for rural Chinese school building funds, as well as the construction of a Chinese Town Hall.
In 1980, the committee organised a fundraising banquet for the benefit of Cambodian refugees through the Tun Sardon Foundation, a multi-racial concern named in honour of Tun Sardon Jubir, who was Yang diPertua Negeri of Penang from 1975 to 1981.
While the Hungry Ghost Festival in Penang has seen much improvement in terms of its organisation and financial management, certain taboos established since the day this religious observance was brought to Malayan shores by Chinese immigrants, who arrived by the tens of thousands in the 19th century, have remained largely unchanged.
Although restrictions like discouraging couples from getting married or renovating homes during this inauspicious month may seem outdated, it is the very essence of this delicate balance between tradition and progress that has contributed to the lasting endurance of the Hungry Ghost Festival in Malaysia.