Page 98 - Our Hawker Stories
P. 98

My new classmate, Ke Han, has never experienced the
            quirky habits of Singaporeans at a hawker centre before;
            he  just  flew  in  from  China.  Join  me  on  this  culinary
            journey!

            After school, Ke Han and I headed to Fernvale Hawker
            Centre and Market. Whenever my friends and I enjoy
            mouthwatering  meals,  our  hearts  and  stomachs  feel
            full. Despite the oily floors and the booming voices of
            hawkers shouting out orders, the food is to die for.

            “Chance,  can  we  find  something  to  eat  now?  I’m
            famished!” Ke Han exclaimed.

            I  swiftly  nodded  and  asked  him  what  he  was  craving.
            I reassured him that all the food available was just as  Once I went up to Ke Han, the hawker instantly knew my
            delectable as I had promised. It was like they were using  order and shouted, “one chicken rice for the handsome
            culinary magic to make the food. We Singaporeans are  Ah Boy!”
            spoilt for choice and have it better than others, but we
            continue to complain, and I am clueless as to why!   “Two, actually. This is my new friend Ke Han.” I responded
                                                                 with a sheepish smile.
            My  go-to  order  is  usually  chicken  rice  because,  as  a
            wise man once said,”chicken rice is life!” There is not a  In a flash, he prepared for us our fit-for-king, scrumptious
            hawker stall in Singapore that does not sell chicken rice.  dishes. The second we took a bite, we were in heaven.
            In my humble opinion, I prefer the roasted chicken to
            the steamed chicken rice. The crisp chicken skin pairs so  I fervently believe hawkers are torchbearers of tradition.
            nicely with the succulent chicken meat.

            When Ke Han ordered his chicken rice, he tried his best   “Hawker centres are where new friendships
            to speak English, but when he did, the hawker looked   form  and  traditions  are  passed  on  —  one
            at him quizzically, trying to decipher his words. I almost
            died trying to hold back my laughter as Ke Han pondered   plate at a time.”
            why the hawker looked at him that way. After all, he was
            a foreigner that has not learnt the speech of a true-blue
            Singaporean.                                                                    Ker Xun Rong Chance
                                                                                                            P6.2
                                                                                      North Spring Primary School









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