Capitalism and gentrification are diluting the authenticity of culturally significant spaces like Chinatown.
Growing up as a first generation Australian-born Chinese, I often find myself straddling the two cultures, each influencing and shaping my identity in unique ways. For my Chinese immigrant mother navigating life in a land of unfamiliar tongue and practice, the echoes of home from Haymarket’s Chinatown drew her in like a motherly hug.
Chinatown 10 to 15 years ago to me seemed more cosy and intimate, with familiar faces I would wave to from the stroller, and flavours that I knew would be the same when I came back the next weekend (albeit they were never quite as good as mum’s cooking). It was an experience I could fall back on and looked forward to. Until what seemed like overnight, things seemed to change for good.
Toddler Iris Yan on an early outing in Chinatown. SUPPLIED
Passing by Chinatown now, it is no longer my mum but my friends who hold my hand. As we squeeze through the crowds during the weekly Friday Night Markets, it’s impossible to ignore what vendors have up for sale in their stalls – a variety of drop shipped keychains, soft toys, press-on nails and phone cases to name a few. Buried in between them may be the odd handmade jewellery or candle stall. The street food on offer seems adapted to cater to the broader public’s taste preferences, making them more akin to fast food. Though I know it exists in a space that waves Chinese culture in my face, I struggle to see a credit to its complexity and intricacy.
On one hand, it’s heartening to witness Chinatown as a culturally Chinese space increasingly shift to being a vibrant and cosmopolitan precinct in the Western world. On the other hand, I question what about this space actually pulls people in and keeps them coming back. And how has this changed as generations of visitors and locals pass through?
Vendors sell their drop-shipped keychains, soft toys, press-on nails and phone cases along the pedestrian strip of Chinatown (Dixon Street)SUPPLIED
A middle aged photographer who had visited Sydney decades back describes the space as “more modern, not like the old traditional [days]. I’m a photographer... and now I can’t find [many] photographic choices or scenes I’d like to take.” He points out the growing population of the area as well as increase of young people. “Some of the choices of merchandise I wouldn’t buy ... I don’t think they’d last more than five minutes if you took them home.”
'Chinatown’s richness is undeniably present, but the richness of its authentic cultural heritage feels increasingly diluted to me.'
A group of young teenage girls I approached one Friday during the peak of the Night Markets to find out what attracts them to Chinatown offered this. “My favourite thing about Chinatown is there’s a lot of different places you can go to get [things] and stuff you can do ... you can find jewellery and food as well.”
Twenty years after Iris Yan walked Dixon Street with her mother, another mother and daughter examine a stall at the Friday Night Markets.SUPPLIED
A Chinese expression comes to mind: Kōng yǒu qí biǎo which means it looks impressive but it is worthless, that there's an appearance of abundance but it is without substance. Chinatown is rich in cultural heritage, tradition, and history yet as commercialisation and gentrification take hold, I’ve reflected that many of the authentic cultural elements that once formed my impression of Chinatown have slowly become overshadowed by businesses and developments seeking profit and traction.
Without a doubt, there is an abundance of food and retail options, yet the deeper cultural experiences and connections that once thrived in the community feel scarce. It’s ironic, the area is bustling with life and activity, yet a lingering sense of loss remains for the meaningful cultural significance that once made it the hub for the immigrant Chinese community.
The Live Crafts Centre, once a congregation point for Chinese immigrants, is now hidden behind Friday Night Markets' stalls.HAARCHITECTS
Chinatown’s richness is undeniably present, but the richness of its authentic cultural heritage feels increasingly diluted to me. It leaves me pondering the loss of what truly made it special – based off of foggy childhood memories versus the present, and the unknown of an era before me. Perhaps this is the inevitable price of progress.
