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I dream of owning it all. A big condo. A silver Mercedes. All the latest gadgets. And I've just found out how to do it. The catch? I have to be dead.
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My fater has always nagged me to sort out my affairs and prepare a will. Tend to my afterlife, he says. But i've put it off. Too creepy. Now another birthday has rolled by, and at long last I've decided he is right. It's time.
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So it was that i delicately raised the subject with a few Singaporean friends. A revelation! Rather than morbidly worrying how to divide my meager possessions among my nearest and dearest, I can do what they do - revel in dreaming about what goodies I should take with me into the Great Beyond. You can't take it with you, as the old saying goes? nonsense. Taoists send off their dead with anything (and sometimes everything) they could conceivably require. yes, the Mercedes. And the color TVs with karoke, too.
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Not really, of course. These are paper facsimiles of things - houses, cars, what have you - that mourners burn to send as smoke (along with you, the dearly departed) into the afterlife. I'd oftern seen them hanin in shops and assumed they were just toys, not paying much attention. Now I pass Mr. Nam's religious-paraphernalia shop with more care, realizing that I could be window-shopping for eternity.
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Alas, Mr. Nam is something of a relic. Taoist (here) tradition is fast disappearing in Singapore. Blame it on the economy, perhaps, but only one in 10 funerals theres days is conducted along Taoist lines.
Most locals opt for the simpler Buddhist version: a few monks' chants with fruit and vegetable offerings. "I know people who have switched from Taoist to buddhist because they don't want to spend the money", another shopkeeper tells me.
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Even in the afterlife, it seems, condos don't come cheap. The deluxe version (four meters long) can cost $800. (Two maids are "thrown in" to keep the ash and soot out.) It's also very clear that ancestors know their Nikes from no-name flip-flops. "People are quite specific about their choice of brand," says Mr. Nam, adding that Mercedes outsells BMW when it comes to the dead and that Nokia phones are preferable to Samsung.
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As for myself, I plan to go out with a bang, or at lease lots of smoke. I'll reserve the gaudiest offerings - full-size planes, yachts and cars with "chauffeurs." Already I'm advising friends on which little extras will keep me happy and entertained. Want my spirit protection - or, better yet, my gravelike silence on certain indiscretions? Put a little treat in the fire for me. From fine cognac to sexy red lingerie (you never know whom you'll meet) to Game Boys for those lonely nights, Nam's has it all - including such mundane items as cigarettes, cans of beer and spare dentures.
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On the day I visited, he was jovially packing four large chests with $65 worth of gold and silver paper money. All of which would soon go up in smoke. He proudly pointed to the "customs" declaration banner, presumably to be collected by the proverbial bargeman over the River Styx, ensuring that the package gets to the right ancestors. "Bank of Hell" money had also been thrown in to distract evil spritis, who reputedly have a penchant for the finer things in life. It seems that even in death you must beware of thieves. The only problem: you have to pay for all this phony loot with real money, hard earned in the here and now.
