WE are a market people. Not that of the intangible space brought to us by economics.
But the brick-and-mortar variety, like the Taiping market or Pasar Payang in Terengganu. Or the hundreds around the country.
There is something more real in them wet markets than the 20th/21st century super- or hypermarkets.
The latter have the size, but miss the freshness of the wet market. Little wonder a tangible glee greeted the news of Taiping market’s restoration. Heritage such as this must be preserved.
Many million footsteps must have walked the 19th century wet market. To let it waste away into unrecorded history would have been too uncomfortably close to a crime.
There are still some among us who shed a tear or two for the passing of the Kuala Lumpur Central wet market. Though of a more recent vintage than her Taiping sister market — it began life in 1937 — as a wet market, it stood so close to the confluence of the Klang and Gombak rivers, where the capital city itself came into being.
Today, it is a centre for art and culture. But people, nevertheless, mourn the passing of the Kuala Lumpur Central wet market.
Because history is, after all, association, an attachment even. Space and time touch us in ways we sometimes underestimate.
This connection to the past must be maintained. There are two ways of doing this. One is the Kuala Lumpur Central market way.
But there is a disadvantage here. History somehow gets left behind. All that is carried forward into the future is the space.
Many, especially the young ones, do not know it was once a wet market. To make history, we need both time and space. We much prefer the Taiping market makeover model. This way, people get to keep both.
Kuala Lumpur needs such an old market made new. The Chow Kit wet market is a good candidate for a makeover. Its age may not hark back to the 1880s of the Taiping market, it is a new old place with some history.
It has to be reclaimed from the dreary and dirty, though. The aches of Chow Kit streets are reminiscent of a congested Jakarta avenue. This must be jettisoned.
We must turn the market into one we would find in Europe or Japan. Or better still, like our neighbour Singapore’s Pasir Panjang Wholesale Centre, a 26-block that houses some 1,405 stalls, shops, offices and cold rooms.
We may not need the 20-football field size space, but you get the idea. To top it all, it operates 24/7 and is clean as a wet market can be.
This hygiene factor is a must. If we need a sprawler — Greater Kuala Lumpur surely does with its seven million population (2010) — Kuala Selangor, a long-time landing point for fish, is an ideal site.
Some may argue away the need for another wholesale centre as we already have the Selayang Wholesale Market. Our response is: it is as good as dead. The foreigners have killed its appeal.