High Stakes

Returning yesterday a crowd of a score or more found around a dam board by the Converts'. Just the other day Ahmad the Money-changer had sketched the history of the Chinese Converts. The Chinese Converts were now the wealthiest Islamic association in Singapore. A sale of a large land-holding some years ago had realised a handsome profit that funded the construction of the present hall and left over a tidy few million of reserves. Some appreciable proportion of the converts to Islam in Singapore include those female Chinese who had been given to Malay families for adoption. Even their children, invariably the product of marriages with Malays, are not difficult to pick. Once, and that just recently, a Chinese face was found under an Indian wrapping up at the bus-stop beside Sri Manmatha on Kallang Road. Malays themselves never gave up children it seems, at least historically. The Orphanages now may tell another story. A long footnote, and no disrespect intended to the Chinese.

These gatherings over the dam boards—Chinese Checkers—are common beside the Converts. It is unclear why the place has been chosen. To an outsider it seems to have little to recommend it. First count there were eighteen men on their feet; plus the two seated. A second count found twenty. Tail end of the game by then, the resolution fairly clear it must have been to those in the know. The board had been largely cleared. Aquamarine and white disks sat along the edge of the board, in many cases mounted. It might have been two moves each before the final surrender. There was little doubt remaining. One could tell from the particular kind of concentration. The concentration was keen and close, but not riveted as on previous occasions. Perhaps there remained the remote chance of a slip-up right at the death.

It was about ten minutes the dwelling on the last phase, the final four moves. Fingers hovered over pieces; fingers fell on pieces without the move resulting immediately. One of the middle moves came instantly, hot on the heels of the one before. Another drive to a square was forceful, a decent push moving the disk an inch and a half.

In fact the winner proved to be the old chap who had received a vigorous massage from a pal six or so months ago on the side-lines of an earlier Championship contest one Sunday afternoon. This was a Friday. The winner in his usual shorts and sandals. It may be possible the man does not attend the Friday prayers at the local mosque. Opposite his opponent wore the more formal attire, as did the majority of spectators. The winner had come off second best recently in some matter. On the centre of his forehead he wore a wide bandage that had been carefully fixed. The men were of a similar age—the fact masked somewhat by the variance in dress. Mid-seventies; loser a bit flabby and less resourceful it somehow seemed. Winner was tight coiled, spare, elastic. One often saw him in his seat against the wall of the Discount store opposite the Converts with his feet drawn up on his chair. Sometimes he wore glasses sitting there.; for the board he had an inner sight no doubt.

The men played under the shade of a tall tree on the central greenery between the two pathways up toward the rear of the Haig blocks. Earlier in the afternoon the show retreated to the wall of the Converts, where a larger tree provided cover. Out of the way like that, buried in a corner, was less congenial than either the central grass, or otherwise against the wall of the Discount store. Around them the spectators were tightly clustered, each with a bead on the board. No one spoke. What was more surprising, there was no smoking. There may have been a slight collective catch of breath when the Winner hesitated with his fingers on an aquamarine piece. The way the man reached for the piece implied a drive in the offing. Instead, under his fingers the disk shuddered on the board like the cars at the F1 starting line.

One of the spectators the old Malay man often found in a songkok despite the signs of make-shift rough-living, a heavy smoker, operator type, well-known in the area though never stopping for a seat at one of the eateries, never a single teh in all these months. Usually when he passes he gives greetings without stopping. Once or twice he had been seen to pull up, offer his hand and exchange a few hard won words before moving on again. Never was he without a cigarette, usually carried in his mouth. Thin and one would guess a drinker in another environment. If the man did indeed sleep rough it was not on the concrete benches beside the Haig bus-stop that always drew two or three. For all that evidently a reliable sort, as was proved yesterday afternoon.

Once again there was almost no stopping him. The man seemed to know the precise moment of climax of the game. Right at the death he appeared from thin air, standing a little to the side, a lazy eye on the board enough. Possibly he may have stood stock still for a full half minute. When the vanquished surrendered, threw his arms and passed some remark which seemed to bemoan an error he had made in one corner of the square, the Songkok stepped close to throw down a bundle of notes on the vacant board. The action almost forceful enough for a gauntlet’s challenge. An unexpected rock in a placid pool. Coming from this particular man the scale of the intervention was exaggerated.

A couple of minutes prior another chap had turned in surprise at the foreigner's interest. This man had seen enough and was about to set off. But before he did so he gave the information that was clearly bubbling inside. More than half Chinese lines the fellow bore. Some path of conversion was strongly suggested in his person; the remainder of the men were clearly Malay.

— Four hundred dollars!

As the wad seemed to confirm when it slapped the board. 

The wounded victor no doubt had little cause for distrust. Nevertheless, as the Serbs say, Money was for counting. (The bad-guy Magyars to the north have the same saying, in their case with the addition, And woman for beating.)

Regulation fifties in three or four pairs. But then two fawn coloured notes within. Malay ringgit possibily, a high denomination by the size of the note. Possibly Brunei dollar, which occasionally appeared here. Four hundred plus; the earlier chap may not have had the whole of it.

One guessed a knockout championship; locals since voiced the same opinion. One dissenter suggested it was possible two bulls had simply decided to lock horns by themselves.

Most of that generation of retirees would be on four or five hundred dollars a month, if that.

A final thought from another local: the side-holding of the dosh may in fact have been a preventative measure to out-fox the cops. State sanctioned gambling was one thing in Singapore; informal illegal something else. (The authorities here gave into the lure of a casino a couple of years ago and have instituted interesting measures to quarantine the damage.