The Ice Cream Uncle's Queue

In the picture, an ice cream uncle is serving customers from his tricycle cart in a neighbourhood park, under a large red and yellow umbrella. A long queue has formed behind him, made up mostly of primary school pupils who are still in their uniforms with their bags on, along with a few parents and elderly residents. The handwritten board on the cart offers chocolate, vanilla and durian at $1.50, with a wafer or bread. What I also noticed is that the queue is orderly even though it is long — nobody is pushing to the front, and one girl is pointing at the flavours while she waits her turn.

Last year my mother brought me to a bakery that had just opened near our block, and the queue stretched past three other shops. We waited close to forty minutes, my legs were aching, and I kept asking whether we could simply come back another day. My mother told me the aunty inside was shaping every bun by hand, which was why it was so slow. When we finally got ours they were still warm, and I understood why nobody in that queue had complained. After that I stopped grumbling so quickly whenever I had to wait.

I feel they should be, although I know it is not simple. These carts are part of how Singaporeans of every generation grew up, and a block of ice cream folded into a slice of rainbow bread for $1.50 is not something you can buy anywhere else in the world. The difficulty is that almost all the uncles are elderly now and very few young people want to take over, because the hours are long and the earnings are small. I understand why some people feel that a trade cannot be forced to survive if nobody wants to do it, however I believe we can at least make it easier for those still working — giving them more places where they are allowed to park, and choosing them over a convenience store when we walk past. That is why I believe preserving this trade is really a question of whether we still stop and buy.