Standing in two rows with knees bent, 10 men slowly pushed their palms out against a slight breeze during a Chinese taichi martial arts session on the ground floor of a public housing block.
In similar places across Singapore, Malay weddings were taking place and Indian children shared playgrounds with kids from other races, including the occasional Western boy or girl from expatriate families renting public apartments.
Just a typical weekend in Singapore’s “void decks” — the shared open spaces under high-rise government-built apartments scattered across the densely populated city-state.
With more than 80 percent of its ethnically diverse people staying in public apartments — and foreigners now accounting for a third of the population of 5 million — void decks are an important part of daily life in Singapore.
Like blank canvasses on which Singapore’s ethnic rainbow is painted, void decks host everything from weddings and funerals to romantic trysts and day-long checkers sessions that draw retirees from all ethnic groups.
“The void deck is a place for collective idling,” said Chua Beng Huat, a professor with the National University of Singapore’s sociology department.
HARMONY
More than that, sharing the space is also part of Singapore’s strictly enforced social policies aimed at ensuring harmony among the races in a region often torn by religious and ethnic strife.
Apartments in every public housing estate are apportioned in accordance with Singapore’s ethnic mix — 77 percent Chinese, 14 percent Malay and 8 percent Indian, based on a 2000 census — to prevent racial enclaves from forming.
Ethnic harmony is paramount to Singapore, which experienced race riots in the 1960s and is keen to avoid the tensions that periodically flare up in neighboring Malaysia.
In two recent cases played up by local media, a Christian pastor was forced to apologize publicly for slurs against Taoists and Buddhists, while three Chinese youngsters are being investigated for anti-Indian rants on the Internet.
TENSIONS
Singaporean Prime Minister Lee Hsien-loong (李顯龍) has used the void decks to underscore the need for ethnic tolerance, citing a rare incident that could have caused racial tensions to flare.
Lee related in a national day speech in August last year that families organizing a Chinese funeral and a Malay wedding were in a tussle for the same void deck, but the situation was defused with the intervention of community leaders.
“If such an incident had been wrongly handled and you have a case which escalates into a racial or a religious conflict, then one case is bad enough,” he said.
For most Singaporeans, void decks are simply a neutral place to hang out and mix it up.
Wong Phui-san, a 59-year-old retiree, takes a short bus ride to another district to play checkers because players there are up to his skill level.
“What else is there to do if I don’t come here? This way I don’t have to spend money. I’ll only need to take the bus and I can spend my day here,” Wong said.
Weddings of ethnic Malays are often held at void decks on weekends.
Planners are called in to transform the space into a ballroom as the cement floors are carpeted, walls draped with long cloth and flowers, and a temporary dais is set up for the bride and groom.
“One main reason why the void deck is a popular wedding venue for the Malays is that it’s cost-efficient,” said Nurdyana Lim, a Malay wedding planner.



