Shilin Market’s Queue to Enter Isn’t the Main Issue; It’s the Queues for Food That Are Long

Our boss is a nasty nice guy; just a few days ago, he gave me $2 and told me to go to Shilin Night Market to write something about the place.

Me: $2? That’s not even enough to buy a drink.

Boss: It’s not for you to buy a drink

Me: Then? I can’t do much with $2

Boss: It’s for the MRT ride there

Me: But you said I should write something about them. Other publications are writing about the food, reviewing the games and whatnot. You expect me to use my own money for the review? I can complain, you know?

Boss: Trust me, you just need $2.

My lanjiao lovely boss then winked and walked away, putting the $2 on my table.

I thought he’d have left his ATM card inside the $2, or maybe that $2 would turn into a $50 once he’s left.

The $2 remained $2 after a few days.

And yesterday, as I put the $2 inside my wallet and expect it to turn into $50, I got a shock when I saw videos online on how crowded it was, despite the rain.

Damn, am I going to be stuck in the queue for hours?

Because the boss has the habit of killing anyone who doesn’t complete the work he’s delegated, I took the train to Kranji MRT Station, cursing my boss wordlessly.

In the train, I could already see a queue of ants people, and I’ve two choices: write a resignation letter and pocket the $2, or just go with the flow since I was there.

I chose the latter and finally came to a conclusion.

My boss is a time traveller.

7:00 p.m. on the First Day

Unlike other publications whereby they’ve a budget of $50 and much more time, I can’t do much with $2 and I just wanted to get over with it within minutes, so don’t expect reviews of bubble teas and food…that you can find in any shopping malls.

Also, don’t expect lots of images, because I’m paid too low to take images.

Oh, wait, I’ve got an image…

(Ah, forget it, no more pictures: You know you’re a worse photographer than a baby when it’s not just blurry; you even have your finger covering the lens)

Despite many online comments about the queue into the market, it’s actually not that bad.

Given that I was there on a peak hour, I expected myself to be stuck in a queue like I was going up north to JB, but no: the “queue” I saw in the train was merely a train of people walking into the market in an orderly fashion.

In other words, it’s not a queue per se, but more of moving people.

However, driving there might not be a good idea as I did spot a queue of non-moving brake-lights-on cars stuck in traffic.

While it’s packed like Chinatown during Chinese New Year, I was moving throughout, and the journey from Kranji MRT Station to the market is mere 10 to 20 minutes. Priority queue people, including those who had bought Gong Cha with a fast pass or the elderly / people with prams / wheelchair users, went in through another queue, which is not much different from the main walkway except that they’ve more space.

Now, I won’t want to say that it’s the same for every day and time: just note that this was the situation at 7:00 p.m. on the first day, and it was after a downpour.

But hell didn’t start at the journey to the market.

It started when you’re in it.

Big Space & Not Crowded

Initially, the entire area looked relatively spacey, with room to walk and even dance around if you’re up for some attention since everyone’s snapping images for Instagram. Someone was singing on a stage nearby, and over to the other side, a movie was being played.

Sounds good, right?

I looked around and saw shops selling non-food items that I’ve not seen before. Every tent was rather empty, with the staff looking nonchalantly at every passer-by.

It’s not as bad as what was claimed online.

But I wasn’t there to buy some soaps or magic stones. I was there for the food. Since my boss has given me just $2, I’ll just use my own money, start a new platform called Trashy Feed and post my own review, effectively undermining the trashy Goody Feed.

But boy, that was when I could almost hear my boss’s voice in my head.

Queues for Food Were CRAZY

As I walked deeper into the market, it started to get crowded on my right, and there’s a long queue that leads to…dunno where.

Must be the stage, I thought. Whoever’s singing there must be some popular singer.

But why would people queue for a seat in the getai stage? Why not just stand at one side to watch?

So, I mustered my courage and looked for the chio-est woman, who was taking a selfie happily, and asked, “What are you queuing for?”

“I’ve a boyfriend, you dumbass,” she said and looked away immediately.

Knowing that I shouldn’t look for a chiobu because my face looks like it’s been rolled over by a lorry, I asked an uncle who was uploading images on Friendster.

“Sir,” I asked politely, “may I know what you’re queuing for?”

“Some food,” he said.

“Food? What food?” I wondered. Must be some popular store that has flown in from Taiwan.

“Don’t know. People queue, I queue. Any food also can.”

Shocked, I slowly accepted the notion that Singaporeans would queue for anything—even if they don’t know what they’re queuing for.

And so, I moved in deeper into the crowded area, and that was when shit hit the fan.

Queues, Queues Everywhere

The first food stall, a brand that you can find in shopping malls, has a long, snaking queue. The second was the same. The third? Same.

Every single stall, as long as they sell anything that’s edible, has a long, snaking queue. When I finally found one that has absolutely no queue, I jumped on it immediately until the staff said, “Oh, sorry, sold out liao.”

And just so you know, that’s another stall that I can find easily in any mall.

I spent more than an hour trying to find a stall that has a shorter queue, but I feel like I’m in an NTUC FairPrice one day before Chinese New Year: every checkout counter has a long, snaking queue, just like every stall has people queuing.

In fact, I reckon that I’d need to queue at least 45 minutes just to buy a cup of bubble tea.

I decided to give up and just head for the exit, which is crowded af because a large lorry was blocking the way. I’m sure the lorry had unintentionally block 60% of the exit so that it’ll look much more crowded than usual.

Because everyone was just centimetres away from me, I could smell people’s sweat and hear their conversations, and here are some conversations that I remember:

“Hey, at least you got immersed into the atmosphere even if you didn’t eat anything.”

“I should have eaten something before coming here.”

“I think those people who’ve got food have queued since the afternoon.”

And finally, I heard the most popular phrase in the whole of Singapore:

“Eat what?”

And mind you, we were exiting the market, not entering the market.

Worth a Trip?

Having been to night markets in Taiwan, I’ve to say that the lighting and settings are rather on point, and the queue to enter isn’t that bad.

But if you’re there just for the food, then I suggest you to head elsewhere.

Because even in Taiwan night markets, you won’t see queues like these.

Then again, with my $2 budget and 3-hour experience, my so-called “review” might not reflect the night market that accurately.

So go if you want to. Just remember to have something to eat before making your way there.

If not you’re going to leave the market with the iconic “Eat What?”