The Chao Mae Thap Thim shrine is, for its supporters, a symbol of Bangkok’s rich history. Inside, framed by ornate golden carvings, stands a statue of the sea goddess Mazu. The goddess is especially cherished among many Chinese communities living overseas in south-east Asia, including those whose families settled in Thailand.
But outside the shrine’s entrance, which is adorned with traditional paintings and red and gold lanterns, looms a vast, modern construction project. On either side, grey concrete blocks, fixed with scaffolding and tarpaulin, rise up into the sky, with cranes poised beside them. Chao Mae Thap Thim, which is separated from the construction only by metal sheet fencing, could soon be knocked down to make way for further building work.
The shrine is a rare example of an older building that has, so far, stood firm in the face of gentrification that has swept across areas of Bangkok, a city increasingly dominated by luxury shopping malls, shiny glass office buildings and high rise flats.
The shrine is the subject of a fierce legal battle between the local community and the property arm of Bangkok’s Chulalongkorn University, the PMCU, which owns 184 hectares (455acres) of land in the centre of the capital, including the area on which the shrine stands.
The PMCU is seeking to evict the shrine’s caretaker, Penprapa Ployseesuay, and asking for damages of 122m baht ($3.4m). A judgment is due on 31 August, say campaigners.
“We have to fight not only for the shrine, but for the people,” says Settanant Thanakitkoses, a student who has helped campaign for the shrine’s survival. He is also a producer of a newly released documentary The Last Breath of Sam Yan that details their struggle, and says the case has helped raise awareness of the problem of gentrification in the city, with residents who run the city’s services being priced out of areas by rising rents.
“Most of the people in the world think that world war three will destroy human civilisation. But I will say that gentrification will destroy the civilisation of the people,” he adds. “There will be no identity of the community any more.”
The PMCU says that regeneration of the area will bring benefits, and added in an official statement that it has built an alternative shrine to replace the current one in a green space “surrounded by facilities such as covered parking, restrooms, close to the community and a variety of delicious food”.
However, caretaker Penprapa says the new shrine is not designed in keeping with custom, and that she is determined to stay put, so that she can keep up the tradition that has been passed down through generations of her late husband’s family.
For many, the shrine is intertwined with family history. Viroj Tangvarnich, an expert on Chinese history and culture, says his great aunt walked there every day “to pay worship to the goddess.”
During the second world war, people took shelter in the shrine, Viroj added. The shrine’s history dates back about a century, though it was rebuilt at a second location more than 50 years ago after a fire. “Here is the history, the life, the record for history,” said Viroj, who is 74.
The area surrounding the Chao Mae Thap Thim was traditionally a centre for the Chinese community, and was known for its mechanic shops and became known for the quality of its food.
“It was full of people walking, coming to restaurants,” said a former noodle shop owner in the area, but the opening of local malls brought additional competition and, on top of rising rents, it meant that many restaurants could not survive.
He is unsure how long his family’s restaurant will be able to stay in the area.
Wasana Wongsurawat, assistant professor of modern Chinese history at Chulalongkorn University, who features in the Last Breath of Sam Yan documentary, says that the case of Chao Mae Thap Thim in some ways echoes the pattern of gentrification elsewhere in Bangkok.
“It is well known that there are certain big businesses – people would know who they are – that go around and buy up all the property so that the prime property in Bangkok now belongs to very few owners,” she says. “And you see the same thing – of old communities being cleared away, and malls being built, luxury condos being built.”
But the case of the Chao Mae Thap Thim shrine has gained attention because the landlord in the case is a university, which should protect heritage, says Wasana – and because students have taken up the cause. There has been, she says, a growing interest among students in preserving heritage and discovering their country’s history – especially after prominent landmarks associated with the 1932 revolution, which marked the end of absolute monarchy, began to mysteriously disappear over recent years.
A source at Chulalongkorn University, who spoke anonymously as the official spokesperson was unavailable, said the university wants to relocate the shrine to bring it closer to community members, who have moved from the area. The university had offered to dig up and relocate the structure, but this proposal was declined, they said.
“From a university viewpoint, it would like to ease this conflict,” the source said, adding that a new shrine has been built, and a residence offered to the caretaker.
The shrine’s caretaker, Penprapa Ployseesuay, says the new shrine was not designed in the correct way, and that there is no room for her to stay as a caretaker, which is necessary to carry out her duties, including keeping lamps burning. “Every shrine must have caretaker. At least one,” she says.
If forced, she may seek to find an abandoned shrine or rental building elsewhere, but she said: “First we need to fight until the end”.
