To The Lighthouse

View Photos (1) Image © 2003 Sim Jui-Liang

Our 'best of both worlds' plan fell into disarray, thanks in no small measure to some irritating 'touts'.

The plan was to buy takeaway roast pigeons from Fat Siu Lau, the oldest restaurant in Macau, and devour them for dinner at Guia Fort.

Having finally figured out the directions to the restaurant from the step-by-step, lane-by-lane instructions I downloaded from the Macau Tourism homepage, and after navigating through a maze of lanes with confusing, tongue twisting Portuguese names, Alvin and I finally found the highly elusive Travessa do Mastro.

As we hurried down Travessa do Mastro, our impending happiness soon evaporated and turned into irritation and well, fear. Stationed in front of a row of barbecued meat shops were several 'touts' (okay, hawkers), one hand holding a tong, waving an oily piece of barbecued meat in the vain hope of enticing us, and the other grabbing us when we politely declined their offer.

"What makes them think their bak kwa is such a big deal?" asked an amused Alvin, the moment we reached the tail end of the lane, after having staged a successful escape.

"Maybe we were the only human beings here this entire day!" came my lame response.

Then it struck us. We had totally forgotten about Fat Siu Lau! And it would be treacherous and completely insane to go back to that shark-infested territory. We quickly executed Plan B, stopped a cab in the midst of chaotic traffic and pointed to the driver, the lighthouse icon of Guia Fort on our well-utilized map...

When the cab driver dropped us at the car park of the Fortress of Our Lady of Guia, the searing afternoon sun was ready to call it a day and the enclave's health-conscious residents were warming up for their routine jog.

A short walk up the slope later, we came to an iron gate leading up to the lighthouse. To our disappointment, we learned from an elderly security guard that the visiting hours were over. But several middle-aged men were up there, fiddling with the rope attached to a post for hoisting signals that warn of an approaching typhoon. With the guard out of sight, we decided to try our luck and gave the gate a little push. It didn't give way. So we loitered around, settling with the views before us.

I wasn't sure why we tried a second time. Maybe we had come all the way here. Maybe if those men caught our pathetic faces, one of them might come down and unlock the gate for us. This time, with greater might, the gate did open sesame! How embarrassing!

Climbing a flight of stairs in relative darkness, we were led to the top of the world. After all, Guia Fort was constructed around 1637 on the highest point of Macau. The lighthouse itself was built in 1865, making it the oldest on the China coast. Standing tall at 52.5 feet, the lighthouse, with quaint dainty windows popping out of its curvaceous body, recalls the former glory of Portuguese maritime prowess. It looks in urgent need of a fresh coat of paint too.

At the foot of the lighthouse, in a perpetually ready position, is an ancient cannon. Its existence serves as a reminder of the fort's original role: to defend the border with China. Rarely did the fort fulfill this function; ironically, because it overlooks the entire city, it was used more as an observation post, and the task of guarding Macau was delegated to the other forts.

Keeping the lighthouse company is a small, simple chapel bathed in delicious colors of white and pastels. It was already closed by the time we got there. But behind the closed doors are "the image of Virgin Mary, a few antique pictures and oldest vestige of paintings that dates back to the construction of the Hermitage in 1622." I wished the tourist brochure would be more descriptive.

Those men who came before us were long gone. A guard hovered nearby. He could have chased us away for violating 'the rules'. He didn't, passing his time instead chatting away on his mobile phone. So we had the luxury of having the lighthouse all to ourselves...

The sweeping views that the lighthouse commands is anything but breathtaking. It has a more down-to-earth feel and looking out from the different angles of the fort provides an interesting study of contrasts of this city.

Peering through a pair of binoculars, a church in the far distance caught our attention. Churches are a common sight in Macau but this one stands out for being in the center of a rather large, sardine-packed cemetery, where the grayness of tombstones overwhelm the earth tones of its soil. Surrounding the church and cemetery are countless dilapidated low-rise apartment blocks built so close together I wonder if there are actually any narrow lanes running in between them. Looking down on these tiny apartments and several stately colonial houses are much taller buildings, some of them sprouted in between shorter ones, partially obscuring the verdant hills and dull skies in the background. The entire area seems to be shrouded in a stale air of inactivity and it hardly emits an audible whisper.

There is more breathing space on the other side of the fort, which faces the outer harbor. A long white bridge 'walking' across the sea dominates the skyline, linking the Macau peninsula to the islands of Taipa and Coloane. At one corner is the pencil-thin Macau Tower, transporting elevators of visitors anticipating panoramic views. Towering residential and commercial buildings wear a modern if not swanky look. Signs of activities are more visible too - a steady stream of vehicles circle the gigantic sculpture in Comendador Ho Yin Garden and somewhere, there would be another building site. Is this the new, emerging Macau and the other side, the sleepy, old, exotic Macau?

The lighthouse was such an inviting respite from the outside world that all we did for an hour or so was to sit back and watched the world strolled by. It was difficult to leave this little haven so that decision was left to nightfall and our growling stomachs...

Back at the car park of Guia Fort, we grew impatient and desperate as passing-by cabs ignored our flagging hands and a free ride from the fort's denizens was not on the cards. Then we heard a voice from behind. I realized we were standing at the entrance of an unglamorous Guia Hotel. The man, possibly a chauffeur with the hotel, offered to be our 'cab' driver. Questions started to swim in our heads: Is he moonlighting? Can he do that? Is business so bad? Anyway, we agreed.

In his mini-van, the usually lethargic Alvin took a breather at the back seat and left me to do the talking. Noting I was hopelessly Cantonese-challenged, the driver switched to halting Mandarin when I asked him to recommend a place that serves authentic Macanese cuisine. Before we alighted, he repeatedly directed us "to cross this road, walk two blocks, pass New Yaohan, then there's the ferry terminal." We paid him more than the modest 11 patacas he had asked for.

After a scrumptious dinner of seafood and vegetables cooked in cheesy Portuguese sauce and roast quails in a neighborhood restaurant, we made our way back to the ferry terminal, replaying the driver's instructions. Halfway, a beacon flashed above us. It was the Guia lighthouse. We forgot it actually works two shifts, posing for camera-toting visitors by day, and sending a ray of caution to ships by night.

We could only watched the lighthouse work for a while. Time was ticking fast to 10pm and there was an hour-long ferry bound for Kowloon to catch...

The Guia lighthouse weaved its magic even when our ferry was out at sea, beckoning us to return one day, while reminding seafarers to keep a vigilant watch and bidding "see you tomorrow" to commuters who work in one territory but live in the other.

At the end of this trip, I have little doubt that the Guia Lighthouse, and not the miraculous but touristy ruins of St. Paul's Church, is the real face of Macau. The former, I think, embodies the spirit of resilience that resides in the average Macanese. Macau's charm may lie in its slow leisurely pace but its people are anything but laidback. Perhaps the difficulty of eking out a living has fostered in them a sense of initiative and a never-give-up attitude. The driver who took us to the restaurant had merely seized an opportunity to earn a paltry amount to supplement his income.

The person who best epitomizes this resilience must be the reporter who targeted us at Senado Square. She tenaciously refused to take my initial 'no' for an answer, until I relented with a list of 10 places I would want to visit in Macau. When my blank mind failed me, considering we had only 5 places on our itinerary, she enthusiastically prompted me with hints and more blatant hints. In the end, she got what she wanted, through an admirable combination of determination and hospitality, traits that many Macanese seem to possess.

And how can we forget the 'touts'? Competition reared its ugly head, I guess. We are still amused by that incident but yes, they are forgiven.

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Published on 2/28/03