Tuesday 3 February 2004

Traveller's Insights

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This is Nucha Aquino from Thailand/Philippines.  
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Silent Macau

by: Ieuan Dolby 

 

 

              

 

 

 

 

 

A failed or neglected city springs to mind when walking 
around Macau during the day time. Around the outskirts of 
the Islands the doors of modern buildings never seem to 
open. Hotel restaurants tend to sole customers with 
reluctance: public gardens remain empty except for the lone 
tramp rooting around in the bins, roads remain unsullied 
with tyre tracks and the silence is loud all around. Inside 
and up the hill cracked and uneven pathways run along to 
meet the next, weeds compliment the falling cement on 
graying walls. Unpainted fences balance precariously around 
crazy paved basketball pitches whilst graffiti gives color 
to an otherwise drab setting. 

The Portuguese gave the place some amazing buildings when 
they ruled and controlled, in fact Macau was the first 
European Settlement in the Far East. The Portuguese beat 
the Dutch and the British by a hairs breadth with their 
establishment of this well positioned and soon to be rich 
trading post. Hong Kong, Singapore and Malacca followed 
many years later as the British, Dutch and other nations 
established a presence in Far East Asia but at the beginning 
Macau ruled the roost. The Dutch tried many times to get 
hold of the Islands as did the Spanish and the British once 
or twice. A prize jewel had Macau become and Portugal 
managed to retain control throughout, only really giving it 
up in 1999 when they handed it back to mainland China. 

China now rules Macau under what has become known as a SAR. 
This stands for a Special Administration Region and 
basically comes under the Mainland Chinese Policy of “one 
rule, two systems”. A status-quo in which Macau governs 
itself for the most part, and it makes and lives under its 
own laws, but it belongs to China however it is run or seen 
to be run. 

Today it is a little paradise steeped in history and 
culture. Large imposing, century old structures now vie for 
space amongst the tattered remnants of shoddily built 20 
century brick houses and classily built modern glass offices 
that reach to the sky. Massive and squat stone offices of a 
colonial era sit regally and steadfastly among haphazard and 
leaning towers of steel girders: gray stone snubs orange 
brick and the slate roofs still keep out the water were the 
tin cladding has long since failed. 

New roads lead around the coast in smooth patterns, over 
long and impressive bridges they flow before swooping 
gracefully in arcs around flashing advertisements and over 
reclaimed land that oozes intent. Newly built high speed, 
two-lane, motorways pass futuristic glass structures and 
cloud hitting spirals, they zoom over decorated spanned 
bridges that are a feat to modern engineering, they whiz 
past glittering hotels that invite money to be spent and all 
before lowering themselves in stature to greet and pass over 
to times gone by. 

Working inwards and upwards modern tarmac meets old cobbles 
as the flat ground turns into the steep climb. Little lanes 
hobble through culture that crowds-in upon itself. Houses of 
times past squash and bulge against each other and hang 
precariously over paths that defy the eyes to follow. 
Hanging baskets swing delicately from balconies that 
threaten to pull down the houses that they belong to, whilst 
open windows give glimpses to the crowded life beyond. 

The modern steels and glass facades of hotels and office 
blocks, the colonial stone museums and Portuguese 
Officialdom of yesteryear that grace the flatlands around 
the coast are left behind when walking inland. The hilly 
centers of the Islands house the main population: looking at 
houses from many years ago the place strikes chords of a 
fishing village in Portugal when looking one way and China 
Town the next. These small houses built along old cobbled 
streets crowd in upon each other and bring life and activity 
all around. 

But all is not as it seems. From the heat of the day, when 
cool drinks and light foods go together with a swimming pool 
and air conditioning, the evening brings change. From the 
dull and fading brick work and overgrown flowerbeds, from 
the graffiti and flaking paint on shop walls springs lights 
of dazzling proportions. From a forgotten City lying to 
waste in its own decay grows a glittering display of neon 
power, one that transforms the place and everything within. 
As the sun sets on the horizon people come out to play, 
tourists put aside their bathing towels and no longer think 
of cold air, workers get ready for the night ahead and hotel 
lobbies transform from desolate halls to crowded and 
bustling bee hives filled with action and intent. 

Public Gardens become noisy meeting points for those going 
out on the town, overloaded buses groan along roads that are 
a mass of spinning wheels and alert taxi drivers fight for 
the needy customers with skill and adeptness. Policemen wipe 
the sleep from their eyes and come out of their cubby holes, 
ready and watchful for the evening ahead. Bars stock up with 
large muscled men who hang around the doorways with folded 
arms silently saying, “make trouble and you will have me to 
deal with”. Hopeful jewelers open their doors and invitingly 
offer tourists the once in a lifetime chance to buy gold at 
the cheapest prices in Asia, the Indian on the corner 
suggests that he can measure and make a suit in a day and 
the electronics stores beckon where they had not during the 
day. 

But what is really going on? Aside from the tourist scene, 
apart from the night life and the activity that springs up 
after the sun hides away, what is really going on. What 
makes Macau what is today and why do most people prefer to 
sleep during the day, workers and tourists alike and what 
changes the city from a neglected and desolate place under 
the sun to a fun filled bundle of activity in the night? 

Gambling. 

It is all about Gambling. The Macau government makes seventy 
percent of its revenue from Gambling. Most Hotels are built 
with gambling in mind and thus they boast many a casino and 
gambling dens on its premises. Limousines carry the rich 
gambler to his seat for the evening, the one who has not yet 
sniffed defeat. Hotels lay on special packages for those 
with money to loose and girls lie in wait to help spend 
money that prospectors may have had thoughts of keeping. 
Bars keep drinks flowing to loosen punters stiff fingers, 
fast food flows to produce contentment and security in the 
high rollers and the large muscled men act positively when 
throwing out the losers. 

Banks close down and turn over their business to rows upon 
rows of fast acting machines that spout out money like it is 
going out of fashion. Urgent and edgy punters queue at these 
machines, itching to get into the action, worried that they 
have no money left. Security guards watch metal detectors 
closely and search handbags with vigor, hidden cameras turn 
circles as unaware gamblers throw their money on luck and 
doormen’s arms ache as they ceaselessly open doors for the 
excited newcomers and help the defeated out. Receptionists 
check-in new arrivals by the hundreds as tours from Mainland 
China pour off trains like ants from a mole hill. 
Airport-staff sweat freely, as planes land in quick 
succession to throw out more determined miners from Taiwan, 
the Philippines, from Singapore and other corners of the 
world. 

Newly arrived punters race against time to grab their bags, 
get through immigration and to catch a cab for their hotel 
and the casinos next door, above or beneath. Time is 
precious and time is money – money that will be spent 
despite dreams that suggest otherwise. 

Not all arrivals and visitors to Macau are gamblers on a 
mission. Some visitors are genuine tourists who wonder why 
the city is so bare and drab during the day, those that have 
no idea as to the other face of Macau. And from Taiwan and 
other expensive Asian economies comes another bunch of 
visitors, the group or package tour and should one see the 
tour as it engorges itself from the plane, one will notice 
that it is all men. These men are on a mission, they will 
also be all over the age of fifty and the average age will 
probably be about seventy. This is a specially arranged tour 
that may for example start off from Taiwan and fly to Macau 
for a three day visit. And it is special in that it is for 
men only, that they are going to Macau to get a woman, to 
have three days of sex and romp and then to climb back onto 
their plane alone and back to Taiwan: maybe to repeat the 
process in a years time, if they can afford it or their 
wives don’t find out. Yes, another side of Macau; the 
availability of prostitutes who service the Taiwanese or 
overseas visitor or who relieve punters and gamblers of any 
change that they may still have jangling in their pockets 
after the gambling halls have shut for the night. 

Prostitutes hang around doorways and exits from casinos, 
they balance precariously on high heels that defy gravity 
and they are covered in layers of make-up that gives 
competition to a skilled plasterer. Skimpy skirts ride high 
on slim legs and breasts push eagerly against tight tops 
that are all but not present. Little purses swing invitingly 
from hands that wander fleetingly as males pass by, smiles 
are issued freely to those that look and glares are given as 
those looked walk on. 

Innuendos are made and promises of a new life are given as 
punters exit casinos for new ground or with nearly empty 
pockets. New entrants are given the choice of female company 
as they prepare to spend and while away the night and 
whatever one can think of it is there. Slim girls with long 
legs, short girls with big busts, tall girls with big busts 
and short girls with long legs are all around leaning 
against doorways and offering hope and suggestion in husky 
voices. Slim waists peek out as hips thrust invitingly, 
nipples protrude as tongues are run along lips and eyes 
smile to all who see. Men dressed as woman, large woman with 
massive breasts and large men with even bigger breasts stand 
in the background for those inclined and little girls with 
spirit and enjoyment run around touching bottoms and kissing 
cheeks like they are in love. 

A neglected city it may be during day light hours, but 
prostitutes, bouncers, gamblers, airport staff, 
taxi-drivers, croupiers, fast food hall owners, barkeepers, 
bus drivers, doormen, receptionists, bankers, service 
engineers, thieves and security guards need to sleep during 
the day so that when the sunsets they will be ready for a 
new night of action. 

And the only daylight customers are the tourists who never 
knew the other face of Macau and the cleaners who must make 
the city ready for the next plane load of enthusiastic 
passengers and the next train full of excited amateurs with 
their pockets full of cash and dreams of a rich and 
enjoyable future ahead of them. 



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About The Author


Ieuan Dolby, from Scotland is an Engineering Officer in the 
Merchant Navy. He has been travelling the world for 15yrs on 
an endless tour of cultural diversification. Currently based 
in Singapore he writes various articles for magazines and 
newspapers and is working on a marine glossary. 

ieuandolby@lycos.com 


See the pictures of the author in Macau at
http://www.seadolby.com/macau/macau.html

 

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