Merdeka and Much More: Reminiscences of a Raffles Professor, 1953-67

5 How the Cold Storage Shaped World History

HOW THE COLD STORAGE SHAPED WORLD HISTORY 37 37 5 How the Cold Storage Shaped World History S hortly after our arrival in Singapore in 1953, we discovered one of its unanticipated attractions. This was the year round availability of fresh food, a welcome change from grey post-war London, with its rationing and general shortages. The refrigeration facilities provided by the Singapore Cold Storage Company in particular, which in collaboration with refrigerated ships brought the world’s fruits and vegetables, as well as meat, butter and milk to our table, enabled us to live well. But when the Company was registered here 50 years earlier, on June 8, 1903, it had been a different matter altogether. Singapore then was part of the equatorial Third World, a modern euphemism hiding the horrid facts of life. For what was the position? Meat was best avoided, or tackled in a curry. Beef came from stringy local buffaloes, with pork more sought after as a traditional Chinese delicacy. Bali, being non-Moslem, had a long standing trade in pigs with Singapore, while the junks of south China also traded, but in both cases the voyage could last a week or more, and with no refrigeration on board deterioration if not disease was hardly avoidable. The ad hoc slaughtering of the local cattle was another crime scene. Indeed it was the lack of acceptable meat in Singapore that provided the initiative for the formation of the Cold Storage. With its eye then largely on a European clientele such as the army MERDEKA AND MUCH MORE 38 contingent as well as civilians based in Singapore, and the regular provisioning demands of the shipping, it saw the probability of a profitable market, while its strong links to the vast cattle stations of Queensland provided it with a guaranteed source of supply. It was less successful in solving the milk problem. Until the two insulated store-rooms that the Company built at Borneo wharf in Keppel Harbour began operating in 1905, milk was obtained from Bengali vendors who hawked their sickly animals around the streets, milking them when necessary. This thin, bluish white liquid not infrequently flavoured with cow dung was less than popular, and imported condensed or powdered milk was preferred by nearly all in whose diet milk figured. Rice of course was the staple for the great majority of the population, imported mainly from Siam. Fish was another staple, caught in local waters. Due to the primitive conditions that prevailed, along with the lack of authoritative supervision, this was of a very poor quality indeed, when finally it reached the market. As I was told, before even the fish were landed they lay around in the small prahu of the Malay fisherman sometimes for days, in a warm mixture of bilge water, blood and slime at the bottom of the boat. This produced the dull looking and sour smelling fish already in the early stages of decomposition that were offered for sale. Hardly any fruit other than a poor supply of tropical bananas and such like, augmented by oranges from South China were available. Lemons, for some unexplained reason, never grew east of Suez, but lime, from Java, was a delightful substitute, particularly when mixed with gin. Potatoes also came across from Java. The few market gardeners who supplied local beans and other poor quality vegetables were helped considerably in growing their produce from the hard red earth of the island by the age old practice of utilising human manure. All in all, the food then available made Singapore a less than desirable location, nor did the general environment help. No municipal sewerage system or a night soil disposal organisation HOW THE COLD STORAGE SHAPED WORLD HISTORY 39 was introduced until 1914. I can recall talking about these early days with a group of prominent business men including Lee Kong Chian, the university benefactor. He came down to Singapore aged seven in 1902, the son of a poor tailor. He could vividly remember Chinese “coolies” as they were then called (a disparaging long standing term now thankfully forgotten) jogging down somnolent Orchard Road and the town’s more crowded main streets, balancing on their shoulder the swaying long pole with a bucket of night soil at either end, apprehensive rickshaws and other pedestrians avoiding them with difficulty. If the night soil was not sold, into the river it was dumped, so...