The boy who grew up in Geylang

There’s more to Geylang than just 24-hour dimsum and horny old men, according to Cai Yinzhou who’s lived all his life in the red-light district

“That guy on the right sells counterfeit sex drugs,” he says to us with a poker face, not looking in the man’s direction.

Yinzhou knew exactly what he was talking about, a vital skill he has picked up from growing up in Geylang. We were exploring the notorious red-light district as part of his Geylang Adventures trails, which has seen him stroll through Geylang’s lorongs with many locals.

Taking a shortcut through a back alley with Yinzhou

I recall striking up conversation with Yinzhou when I first met him during National Service. “Where do you stay ah?” Like most people, my immediate reaction to “Geylang” was a “don’t bluff la”.

But he certainly wasn’t lying.

A childhood in Geylang is undoubtedly different from living in a neighbourhood elsewhere. With “pretty damn good food” at every corner and rampant vice in the back alleys, Yinzhou has grown to love Geylang, and is now determined to show everyone a lesser-known side of his neighbourhood.

Studying throughout his university with a beer in a coffeeshop or calling the police to break fights up in back alleys are part and parcel of living in the neighbourhood for the self-confessed outdoor enthusiast. Working a 9-to-5 job was never an option – his uniform bronze tan says it all, and so does his social media feeds flooded with photos of boat rides, cycling expeditions and of course, Geylang Adventures.

Yinzhou finding time for a selfie while kayaking through a storm

Putting a full-time job on hold and devoting all his time into Geylang Adventures is a big sacrifice, but one that he is willing to make. We sat down with Ah Boy (his nickname at the Geylang coffeeshop he frequents) to dig deep into his motivations of changing social norms, through pop-up initiatives, in the unlikeliest of places.

What’s the one thing that triggered you to start Geylang Adventures (GA)?

The Little India riot was one of the inciting incidents that made me want to start GA. After the riot, Geylang was described as a “keg of gunpowder waiting to explode”. This statement struck me hard because I realised many didn’t understand the dynamics of this place; after all, it’s human nature to fear what we lack control over. Through GA, I hope to bring out a lesser-known social side of Geylang, and change our perception of migrant workers through my personal experience.

Share with us some of the challenges you’ve had in starting this.

Geylang can be a dangerous area to walk through, especially in the places you must go to understand the social dynamics of the place. One of my challenges was varying the route according to the crowd I was with, and using different focuses and anecdotes to show an alternative side. This has made it difficult to scale things up because the stories I tell were from my childhood growing up here, and it’s important for it to remain an authentic and genuine experience.

Having grown up in Geylang, what have you grown to love/hate about this place?

I’ll try to think about what I hate, but there are a lot of things I really like. I really like the multicultural and multisensory environment, where so many different groups of people live together in such a small area. Another perk about living here would be the diverse amount of food round the clock, and it’s pretty much damn good food around every corner.

“Geylang is also probably the only place in Singapore where you can buy and sell a brand new phone or get a haircut at 2am.”

What do I hate about Geylang? (long pause) Hmm, maybe not so much about hate, but I feel uncomfortable with some of the social issues in Geylang, like the squalid conditions of migrant workers’ houses or their limited social spaces such as open fields and back alleys. Sometimes, migrant workers need a space to chill and hang out too!

Yinzhou with a worker who just got a free haircut

You’re personally involved in many social/volunteer causes including Geylang Adventures. Which is your favourite one, and why?

Geylang Adventures’ vision is to promote interaction between locals and migrant workers. My defining moment with migrant workers was with this Bangladeshi group that lived behind my house. They often played badminton at the back alley and one day, I mustered enough courage to ask if I could join them. We quickly became friends after I started joining their games, and they shared with me their backgrounds and issues with relationships or families back home. There was this time when I passed them after a long run and they insisted I share a watermelon with them.

“It was an absurd moment – sitting around the back alley, cutting open and eating almost a quarter of a 5kg watermelon that was meant as a treat for themselves.”

I couldn’t decide what I could do to truly be a hospitable friend. Although they didn’t have much possessions, they seemed pretty contented materialistically. Back Alley Barbers started with me trying to cut my own hair in hopes of offering them regular haircuts for free. Half a year passed before I finally floated the idea to them and they agreed (a bit hesitantly)! The first-ever Back Alley Barbers session was born last Deepavali, and here we are today!

Since then, they’ve been inviting me for meals regularly at their house, where I cook everything together with them and learn about their culture and tradition back home. At that moment, I realised that they’ve always been in my backyard, and this chance opportunity grew into a steady friendship, allowing me to better understand them as friends, not just as migrant workers. With a heart for the cause, I felt it was the right time to make it bigger.

Back Alley Barbers is a pop-up initiative that started out in Geylang offering free haircuts for migrant workers.

Migrant Mail was a project where we sponsored postage and Polaroid pictures of them, accompanied with a handwritten letter for their families. We sent about 30 letters that day. During Chinese New Year, the team also partnered with Waiting for Lorry to explore Geylang and interact with migrant workers. We even louhei-ed with a group of Chinese migrant workers, sharing food, laughs and a jolly good time. All these stem from the belief that understanding is built through interaction.

Without this understanding, the society tends to stereotype or marginalise minorities. As an individual, it is hard for me to change this status quo. This is why Geylang Adventures hopes to provide opportunities for social interaction. Back Alley Barbers is definitely my favourite event! We take it easy, casually striking up connections with them while cutting their hair, just to make their lives slightly bearable.

“A haircut can be pretty personal, making it the best opportunity to getting to know someone.”

What’s the most interesting/memorable thing that happened to you in Geylang?

I’ve witnessed police raids, street fights, drunk people, car sex, drugs/gambling dens throughout my childhood in Geylang. One of the memorable incidents involved a drunk man and a petite Vietnamese girl. He grabbed her hair and viciously slammed her head on the pillar outside a club. What irked me was that his group of friends were just standing beside, casually smoking and watching on. There was also a running joke about the prostitutes during raids (pun intended). I was always intrigued, as a young boy, by the sound of running feet and screams echoing through the back alley. Look out my window and I’ll see them with their high heels in one hand and silicon bra pads in the other. I always wondered which one’s more important.

Recently, you’ve spoken to secondary school students about Geylang Adventures. Why do you think it’s important for the younger generation to know about Geylang?

I was asked to speak to the students about how I made a decision in life based on past experiences. Speaking to them about Geylang was a reflection of something that was not only close to my heart, but also an interest of a certain cause or experience that caught my attention and changed my thinking. At a young age, I found it hard to express the passion I had for Geylang, often shrugging it off as the emotional attachment to the place, or simply because every part of Singapore would probably be as awesome as I felt Geylang to be.

Some of them might have felt similarly from their own experience, like the strong injustice for an old lady collecting cardboard or a fiery spark of anger picking up a plastic bag thrown by a stranger. All these are indicators of passion, a passion for a cause. In sharing my story, I hoped to bring awareness to these cues that they might have felt previously, giving themselves a chance to act on it.

Have you seen the impact of your contributions? How can people get involved?

Seeing the influx of migrant workers as a child, having them as neighbours, interacting and befriending them – these have enhanced my perception that Geylang is a home for others as well. I never once perceived them as not belonging to the place, or a problem.

“When residents called the police on the group of migrant workers playing badminton in the back alley, it was plain ridiculous.”

What if it had been children playing? What were their concerns? How could their concerns be solved? Subsequently, every activity that we did was skewered towards interaction. Breaking social barriers and encouraging conversation between locals and migrant workers was key. It wasn’t important to us how many haircuts we gave, what mattered was how many connections we made. We’ve since moved towards collaborations with other different causes while maintaining the same mindset – that regardless of the situation of the people we meet, we treat them with respect and dignity, and create connections.

Yinzhou and his army of barbers

If you could go back in time and change one thing, what would it be?

While growing up, I was told that migrant workers were dangerous, that we shouldn’t talk to our prostitute neighbours, and that it was right to call the police on prostitutes hiding in our backyard during a raid. As I eventually learnt about their plights and lengths they go to in order to survive, I felt regretful that I judged them based on societal standards and missed out on many opportunities to become friends.

Where do you see Geylang Adventures in a year’s time?

Geylang Adventures needs to reinvent itself to remain financially sustainable. We’ve been running self-funded events the whole time and it has been stifling to scale it up. Collaborations are an option, such as working with migrant workers’ dormitories to organise activities that involve locals.

Meanwhile, I’ve linked Geylang Adventures towards my other cause – the environment. We’re partnering with Waterways Watch Society to bring locals on an educational litter-picking journey on kayaks through Geylang River! I’m a strong advocate for education and the young generation, so who knows? I might even become a motivational speaker!

Read more about Geylang Adventures and its pop-up initiatives on Facebook or follow the hashtag #GeylangAdventures on Instagram. His website’s coming soon, so stay tuned!

Photo credits: Geylang Adventures