We have moved. We, Macau CLOSER and our sister publication Ponto Final. We are now proud neighbours of Lin Hap Lun copper artisan, the Kin Vo paint and hardware store, the Un … Wo Coal Shop (still in business but it has lost a letter), Lek Vo Paints and Oils, Hip Kei trinkets store, noodle soup restaurants, local hairdressers, old-school tailors and street fruit vendors. Even we, for the time being, are still called Veng Chan Construction Materials – the name of an old family business whose sign will remain preserved above our doorway in memory of Mr. Veng.
A new year, a new home. Camilo Pessanha Street is right in the middle of the city, just ten minutes from our previous address, and yet somehow very far away. The area of Camilo Pessanha seems to be from another era and has remained there ever since. The paint has peeled, the letters have dropped off, and little by little many of the residential buildings have become vacant. Camilo Pessanha is old, full of wrinkles and aching joints. And it is, as of now, my favourite street in Macau.
In this move, bittersweet evidence has come to light – evidence of how we can live in this city without actually living it, without greeting neighbours or buying tangerines from the street vendors or ordering cheap tapaus. But if we really want to, we can be in Macau as much as we can be in any city anywhere in the world, and Camilo Pessanha proves it.
Located just to the side of Almeida Ribeiro, here no tourists or westerners are to be seen. However it still buzzes. From Tung Si Tong to the antique shop, there is not a single empty doorway. Tea is sipped, flowers are sold, and things are endlessly unscrewed and repaired.
The Veng Chan Construction Material building provides us, however, with another perspective. From the roof top terrace we can see endless vacant houses. Just above the old-style shops, are charming houses in ‘Macau blue-green’, with tall wooden shutters and quaint balconies. They are empty, grotty, begging for attention.
Doesn’t the government tell us that housing prices are based on “supply and demand”? It is little wonder that there is a lack of supply if these dwellings are left to languish. Centrally located, beautiful, and brushing up against cultural heritage, but where are the landlords? Why doesn’t the government demand that they repair these dwellings so they can become someone’s home? Or do we just want glazed houses in sterile housing developments, which cost three times more than they are really worth?
Camilo Pessanha Street is an institution and I could not be happier to greet it everyday. However, walking along it, awakens in me as much tenderness as fear. How long will it be before a three-storey Lukfook jewelry store moves in to “revitalize” the area?
