Penang has always fascinated me with its blend of old and new: a historic trading port, a UNESCO World Heritage city, a thriving centre of commerce and industry, and a home to many cultures, traditions and flavours that have come together over generations. However, Penang is more than its landmarks and famous dishes. Its soul can be found in the people I meet, the stories I hear and the memories shared along the way. This is my journey through Penang and beyond.
Squatting at a corner of King Street amid the human bustle of Penang's Little India, Manickam P. sorts through a giant pile of fresh green banana leaves.
Clad in baggy khaki shorts and a sweat-soaked singlet, he seems to take no notice of either the automobiles that incessantly purr past or the hundreds of human apparitions that mill by him. The elderly odd-job worker certainly has his work cut out for him nowadays.
Penang has a large community of Indians, broadly divided into those from the North (Bengalis, Sindhis, Gujerati, etc.) and the South (Tamils). It is not surprising then that the Penang landscape is dotted with Hindu temples, from the large and ornate to the unostentatious makeshift huts and lean-to's.
This meticulously regimented network was among the earliest parts of George Town planned under the administration of Sir Francis Light, the English founder of Penang. The area is hence now referred to as the "Francis Light Grid" – a rectangular network bordered by Leith Street, Beach Street, Chulia Street and Pitt Street (now Jalan Masjid Kapitan Keling).
At the Church of the Assumption, nestled amidst the bustling streets of George Town, the hearts of Louis Michael Martin and Emily Elizabeth Surin became forever entwined. Their love story found its new beginning on 7 August 1926, when Rev. Fr. P. Lerond officiated their marriage. The church would have looked somewhat different then from the one we see today, as it underwent a major renovation in 1928, when two wings were added.
Walking into La Vie en Mei Gui Café with my daughter for lunch brought back a rather unexpected memory. At the entrance, you are greeted by Prince William and Kate Middleton, while upstairs at the landing, Queen Elizabeth II stands in regal splendour. Chandeliers hang above, grand floral arrangements fill the rooms, and gilded details sit against lush crimson. British memorabilia completes the setting, with every corner arranged almost like a picture postcard. John H'ng has certainly embraced the theme wholeheartedly.
On most afternoons along Campbell Street, a queue often snakes into a pre-war Straits Eclectic shophouse. In Penang, where people are notoriously discerning about food, queues usually mean one of two things: hype or the real deal. Hema Hema, established in 2022, has been around long enough for reputation to settle—and in this case, it feels like the latter.
The amazingly versatile sari (or saree) transcends mere fabric – it embodies the rich heritage of traditional South Asia women (and a few men) in countries such as India, Pakistan, Bangladesh, Sri Lanka and Nepal. It is also a garment that covers all, yet is revealing, enchanting yet unassuming, serene yet sensuous. The sari, with its six yards or more of artistry, is a masterpiece of contradictions, seamlessly transitioning from workwear to leisure attire to a symbol of opulence, all within its elegant drapes.
Not many visitors and tourists to George Town's famous Little India enclave know that the area's name was adopted by the local authorities only in 1991. However, the idea was initially put forth by Datuk Mustafa Jumabhoy, the president of the Indian Chamber of Commerce , during his first term from 1968 to 1969. The notion did not take off and it took more than two decades before it would come to fruition during his second term as president from 1991 to 1993. The State Executive Councillor of Tourism, Culture and the Arts at that time, Datuk Kee Phaik Cheen, latched on to the idea and helped to launch it.
But whatever it is named, visitors hardly fail to sense the remarkable nostalgic charm and almost innocent simplicity of the area. And no wonder. Little India breathes a rich living history that spans over two centuries. The culture here throbs with antiquity and tradition.
Literally translated from Tamil, 'otthu kadai' – that quaint little wooden roadside shop specking the streets of George Town – means "small shop".
The 'otthu kadai' is a pretty interesting emporium – tiny, compact and mottled with a collection of different things. Each of these small convenience shops is a veritable miniature open-air mart selling an exhaustive range of items in an incredibly confined space.
I have often noticed the crowd waiting to get into Uo Shin on Jalan Macalister whenever I passed by. So when my daughter Jean and I decided to try it for the first time, we thought it best to go early. We arrived around noon, just as lunch was getting started, and were comfortably seated before the crowd began to build.
On Soo Hong Lane, one of George Town's narrowest heritage lanes, stands Gilda, a modern neo-bistro that has captured the hearts of diners with its honest cooking and warm hospitality. After spending an evening there, I realised that the true charm of Gilda goes beyond its striking setting and thoughtfully crafted menu. It is found in the people behind it.
One of the most fascinating things that struck me when I was in Japan in the autumn of 2012 had to be its extraordinary dessert culture. In Nara, my family and I witnessed Nakatanidou showcasing the ancient art of mochi pounding, where skilled artisans rhythmically transformed steaming glutinous rice into soft, delicate confections with astonishing speed and precision. Watching the craftsmen work was mesmerising, a beautiful reminder that in Japan, desserts are often deeply intertwined with tradition, craftsmanship, and theatre.