The tour guide trying to preserve Bangkok’s disappearing Chinatown
It almost feels like a disservice to refer to Bangkok’s Chinatown as ‘Chinatown’, because I know the image it will create for other people from the U.K. So I will call it by its local name, Yaowarat, and try to repaint the image for you.
Yaowarat is not just a few streets decorated with red lanterns and all-you-can-eat buffets.* It is not (yet) a polished, commercialised hub offering watered-down interpretations of Chinese culture for tourists. Yaowarat is a sprawling, chaotic network of swarming streets and hidden alleyways that comprises different ethnic communities, century-old buildings with distinctive architecture, heaving markets, ornate temples and shrines, and some of the best street food in the city. It is ten times the size of London’s Chinatown with deeply integrated Chinese-Thai culture and heritage. Its origins date back to the 18th century when it developed as a trading hub for Chinese merchants. Over the centuries it has expanded, evolved and endured. While the rest of the city seems to be rapidly modernising, Yaowarat is where you can find the ‘old-world’ vibe: crumbling buildings in place of skyscrapers, nostalgic cafes instead of air-conned coworking hubs, and old family-run shopfronts rather than shopping malls.
In spite of this, there is no denying that the area is changing. In recent years, new investments, gentrification, and the lingering effects of Covid are all contributing towards fears of the erasure of its history, heritage and communities. Businesses that have been in the same family for generations are now on their last legs. Communities with deep historic roots in the area are being forced out. Areas such as Soi Nana, Song Wat Road and Talat Noi have become Instagram hotspots with an influx of trendy new businesses and street art. A lack of protection for old buildings and architectural sites has left them vulnerable to being replaced by new developments.
I got to explore these issues with Bangkok Vanguards, a tour company committed to cultural conservation in the city. The tours range from food experiences to bike trips and walking excursions, but all seek to showcase the lesser-known aspects of Bangkok that would be impossible to discover yourself—not just because these are areas unknown to tourists, but because the stories shared during the tour were evidently from someone with a deep well of knowledge, history and passion that would be hard to find elsewhere. That person is Michael Biedassek, the founder of Bangkok Vanguards who guided our ‘Chinatown Unplugged’ tour. From the outset, Michael made the direction that Bangkok is headed in clear. “They want to make Bangkok like Singapore,” he said. “Sterile.” During the five hours we were together, we got to see what that would mean for Yaowarat and what was at threat of being lost.
Navigating a seemingly endless maze of alleyways, Michael introduced us to business owners, local dishes, hidden Monk’s quarters, Taoist temples, and abandoned buildings. We met one of Bangkok's last Chinese steamed bun makers, a fourth-generation family business that’s preserving culinary heritage (and caretaking a century-old shrine). He showed us the neighbourhood inhabited by the Charoen Chai community since the late 1700s, who are known for preserving age-old trades like joss paper-making used for religious ceremonies and ancestor worship. The expansion of the nearby metro station and the plan for new developments is directly threatening this community who fear the loss of their homes, businesses, and heritage. In a bid to prove their ‘value’ to those in power, a member of the community turned an old shophouse into the (very tiny) Charoen Chai Museum showcasing old photographs, traditional crafts and way of life.
We were also taken to see the Luenrit Community Conservation and Rehabilitation Project. This community—home to multicultural families and traditional shophouses—was planned to be erased and replaced with a new commercial centre. However, the community managed to persuade the developers to let them stay and renovate the houses themselves to preserve their heritage. Though it seems like a win, the restored buildings felt soulless and the businesses were vacant at the time we were there. Seeing this area highlighted what Michael had said at the beginning about the place becoming sterile. The loss of character felt pronounced in comparison to the vibrant life we had seen around us in other parts of the tour.
Throughout the experience, I kept wondering where tourism lies in all this. There is no doubt that new developments coming in will include hotels and tourist attractions, and the increase in visitors following the opening of a new station and trendy businesses has contributed towards gentrification. However, the tour did a great job at showing a balanced perspective. While trying to prove their ‘worth’ to decision-makers, local communities have used the interest they receive from tourists to show why they should get to remain. We visited Ama Hostel, led by a local entrepreneur who converted a family shophouse into a small hotel. Located in the Khlong Ong Ang Community, it’s helped to increase the number of young people in the area who are spending money in nearby businesses. While tourism can help small entrepreneurs, one of the challenges for many is their accessibility due to their hard-to-find locations, potential language barriers and lack of digital marketing skills for the old shopkeepers. Michael’s work at Bangkok Vanguards is also a stellar example of how tourism can support and preserve cultural heritage through highly immersive experiences and patronising historic family-run establishments that are far off the regular tourist track. He’s also in the works of developing a new tour and workshop in collaboration with the fourth-generation Chinese steamed bun maker.
The tour ended in Talat Noi, one of the oldest riverside neighbourhoods in the city turned Instagram hotspot. Part scrapyard, part hipster hood, there’s no denying that it’s one of the most interesting areas to explore. The alleyways are full of surprises - hidden coffee shops, a crumbling Chinese mansion, waterfront bars, pop-up chocolate stands - that make it perfect for getting lost in. From what I could tell (as an outsider), it seemed to be the perfect blend of old and new. While there has been discussion around gentrification, the modern cafes felt like they integrated well into the neighbourhood and coexisted alongside the historic buildings and temples. It still has character, for now. Hopefully, it can hold on to it as the city continues to transform.
*This isn’t to be dismissive of London’s Chinatown, but it is the perception that many hold due to the lack of awareness about the history of the area and its commercialisation in recent years.