While wandering around Chinatown, past the usual tourist haunts, I heard the drums and cymbals of a lion dance. I went down a sidestreet, and walked into a local community festival to mark the winter solstice, and honour their forefathers, gods, and His Majesty. I later found out that this might be the last time they got together to hold it, as the entire area of quaint shophouses, narrow streets lit by chinese lanterns, was to be redeveloped, probably into yet another soul-less mall. The festival had lion dances and music, an outdoor cinema showing old Chinese and Thai movies, a stage with Chinese theatre and shrines to worship. So thank you to those local residents who welcomed a stranger into their midst.