Living off the land and sea, Chinese immigrants of different dialects carved out a living in Penang through sheer resilience. These pioneers carried an indomitable spirit, managing to build lives in a strange land against all odds. Our Native Land III: Penang journeys to Balik Pulau, where the Hakka community settled; roams through the Century-Old Street Market shaped by three dialect groups; and explores Nibong Tebal, the Teochew fishing harbor. Discover how each community put down roots here, and witness what remains of their legacies today.
Hakka communities are mountain-adapted people with a deep understanding of nature's rhythms. In Penang, they have settled in the highland areas for generations. Among Balik Pulau’s nine villages, Sungai Penang and Pulau Betong stand as true Hakka strongholds, with a population that is predominantly Hakka.
"Immigrants from China’s temperate regions sought similar climates here," explains Mr Kie Kim Hwa, the President of Penang Fruit Farmers Association. "That’s why they gravitated toward places like Penang Hill."
Where mountains rise, Hakkas thrive. After establishing homes, they turned to cultivation. “In the early days, they planted vegetables for short-term sustenance,” Mr Kie described. “Then they discovered betel nut palms, introduced rubber trees, and eventually grew cloves and nutmeg when the climate proved ideal, launching diverse farms.” But Balik Pulau's durian legacy began differently: explorers stumbled upon wild fruit trees during walks in the mountains. Recognising the exceptional quality of the fruit, they preserved the seeds and mother trees to initiate cultivation.
The Hakka community observes two key festivals: Qi Fu (Prayer for Blessings) and Huan Fu (Fulfilment of Promises). Their temples serve dual purposes – hosting visitors and fostering communal learning. Locals prepare Hakka dishes and bring durians, while families contribute unique farm products to share. This exchange creates mutual growth opportunities.
“Every year, I invite relatives to stay three days,” chuckles Mr Kie. “We all boast about our durians!” When they gather at temples or pavilions, it becomes a friendly competition, swapping durians to taste each other’s best harvests. Post-tasting sessions spark practical knowledge sharing. If they discover an exceptional fruit, they discuss techniques like grafting to preserve its traits.
“We have so many premium durian varieties because the cultivation techniques have been passed down and refined,” Mr Kie emphasizes. That is why Penang has become the region preserving the greatest diversity of durian cultivars.
What began as hands-on skill transfer has now evolved into data-driven farming. “We install sensors and cameras, uploading everything to the cloud. When someone praises a Red Prawn's flavor, I pull up a full year's data, checking fertilizer formulas, irrigation patterns, soil moisture levels, and temperature logs. Only then do we understand what created that perfect flesh and sweetness.”
Standing on the mountainside, Mr Kie's expression turns thoughtful. “Nowadays, practically every young person has a university degree – who'd choose to work the land?” Yet undeterred, he is harnessing technology to make durian farming achievements measurable. He understands that, to sustain the heritage and pass on the torch, they must demonstrate to the next generation the true value of the work.
After leaving the hills, the team entered George Town. To trace Penang's Chinese community evolution, the Century-Old Street Markets (Bansan) stand as a vital witness.
Penang hosts several historic streets: Siay Boey Old Market, Campbell Street Market, and Chawrasta Market. Bansan, known in Penang and Northern Malaysia as pasar or wet market, traces its origins to the Malay word bangsal, originally referring to storage warehouses for goods. Over time, it evolved into the local term for fresh-produce markets where vendors sell perishables like fish, meat, and vegetables.
Ms Zheng Cai Juan, Chairman of the Fruit & Vegetable Council at Campbell Street Market, has been trading here for over three decades. She recalls that the market was far more vibrant and energetic in earlier days. Mr Lin Bao Cai, Chairman of the Fish & Prawn Council, also reminisces about how the street market used to bustle with activity even at 3 am.
These century-old street markets gained fame not just through history, but as microcosms of old Penang: Hokkien, Teochew, and Cantonese vendors coexisted within shared walls while maintaining distinct trades.
“Hokkiens sold seafood, Teochews handled vegetables, Cantonese specialized in pork,” Mr Lin explained. Early immigrants settled in dialect-designated zones with minimal interaction. Yet markets forced cross-dialect engagement.
“This official space compelled all groups to shop here,” notes Dr Toh Teong Chuan, Associate Professor of Chinese Studies at UTAR. "That's why Campbell Street Market became uniquely multicultural."
Three separate Da Shi Ye shrines still stand here – each dialect group venerating their guardian during different Hungry Ghost Festival dates. When state officials proposed merged celebrations for funding efficiency, communities protested: “Our deities don't understand other dialects!”
Change eventually prevailed.
With dwindling stalls and crowds, Campbell Street Market now supplies restaurants and wholesalers. This pivot from a wet market to a bulk hub has become its survival strategy against shifting tides.
Nibong Tebal lies at the southernmost point of mainland Penang, where the Kerian River meets the strait. This inshore fishing community welcomes visitors with sprawling seafood displays – featuring prawns, crabs, and fish of every variety - as buyers navigate through the catch, engaging in fish auctions.
Fish bidding involves public auctions where buyers compete for lots. After weighing, the catch is displayed at the wharf. Sellers initiate price calls, allowing buyers to bid at desired rates. “Take prawns priced at fifty ringgit, the seller starts calling descending bids: forty-nine fifty, forty-nine, forty-eight fifty, forty-eight. When it reaches your target, you shout your offer – then he hands you the lot,” explained Mr Chew Thong Tai, Chairman of Sungai Udang MPKK.
Another thing about this wholesale market is that you hear Teochew dialect echoing everywhere. As Mr Chew Thong Tai pointed out, nearly 100% of Nibong Tebal’s residents are Teochew people, mostly from Beishan in Puning, and over 70% share the surname Koh. History books show that Teochew settlers were already farming sugarcane in southern Province Wellesley (now part of Penang state) as early as 1810, later switching to rubber. However, it is still their nature to rely on the sea.
Unlike many other places, Nibong Tebal does not struggle with young people moving away. Being close to larger cities and having good transportation links make it a place where the younger generation often chooses to stay. Still, facing significant challenges such as the steep decline in prawn catches and damage to the ecosystem, this fishing community is being forced to adapt.
As resident Xu De Cai put it in an interview, “These days, fish farming pays, but wild fishing? You can barely scrape by.” This is why Nibong Tebal has shifted — from relying on wild catches to diving headfirst into aquaculture. Nibong Tebal has now grown into Malaysia’s biggest hub for fish farming.
Reposted in full from The Interview website