re·claim (verb): to claim the return or restoration of, as a right, possession.

Line dancing hobbyists gather at the concourse of UE Square along River Valley Road every Saturday to indulge in their favourite recreation. They dance from 6:00pm till 10:00pm, taking breaks whenever they like, while the music continues playing for four straight hours. Philip, coordinator for the weekly sessions, says the smooth marbled surface provides a suitable dance floor for line dancers.

Church-goers enjoy a game of Sunday football outside St. Andrew’s Cathedral. They play every week from 4-7 p.m. in an open field bordered by the city’s busy traffic.

At an open field near Kallang Stadium, construction workers take a break from work to play Sepak Takraw. The temporary court is made from plastic poles and tapes.

Old Wang is one of the “residents” on the railway gardens at Clementi. He visits his own plot every morning and evening to tend to his plants. Back at home, he has a wife who does not join him in such activities. “Don’t go near to that plot,” he warned this photographer while pointing to another personal garden adjacent to his. “That owner is fierce and will chase you away with a shovel.” Old Wang used to be a teacher but retired a few years ago. He has been coming to this garden for the last three years. His wife is still working, and like her husband, is a teacher. Old as he may look, he carries buckets of water around almost effortlessly. Even as the photographer complains about the incessant mosquito bites, he candidly proclaims that mosquitoes not longer bite him. “They have got used to my flesh,” he said in Mandarin, the subject he used to teach.

“Come back anytime, friend,” Old Wang says to the photographer before he leaves. The photographer walks back to his car parked in a private housing estate 800m away, while Old Wang will take his regular feeder bus home.

This series of pictures is related to a previous post.

Near the railway gardens mentioned here, on what looks like
uninhabited wasteland at first sight, are signs of human existence.

I wish I could post more but the scanner broke down.

Loosen up: Mr Shen, a 40 plus-year-old odd job labourer, tends to his small farm patch during spare time. Together with other Singaporeans, mostly of the older generation, he shares an area that lies within 50 metres from the Malaysian railway track which does not fall under the jurisdiction of the Singapore government. He grows potato plants and sells them off to old folks living in the vicinity. Mr Shen says he does this not for profit, but for leisure, reliving his kampung days. 

Catch no ball: Indian foreign workers of Toh Guan dormitories enjoy a game of cricket at a nearby open field. A sandy patch has emerged in the middle of the field, like a man-made Mediterranean sea, after years of cricket games at the same site.