137-Year-Old Hungry Ghost Festival in Penang: A 69-Year-Old Artisan and the Challenge of Passing on the Craft

Every year, when the seventh lunar month arrives, the Bukit Mertajam neighborhood in Penang, Malaysia, takes on a completely different appearance. Not because of any sports match, but because of a traditional festival that has existed for over 137 years. I came here not to watch a game, but to witness how an overseas Chinese community preserves its identity amid the modern flow. The Hungry Ghost Festival in Bukit Mertajam is not merely a religious ritual. Since 1888, the festival has been organized as a response to a plague — a way to appease wandering spirits with no one to worship them. Today, its scale has changed. Attendance ranges from 10,000 to 20,000 people, including devotees from Singapore, Indonesia, and Thailand. This cross-border presence reminds me of a regional tournament — where different national teams compete. But here, instead of basketball or football, the 'sport' is the perseverance of cultural preservation. The festival's centerpiece is the Da Shi Ye (Guardian God of Ghosts) effigy — a towering figure made of paper and bamboo. This year, the effigy is about 5 cm taller than last year. This small detail may seem insignificant, but to me, it is like an annual growth indicator. Each added centimeter marks the tradition still being alive. The craftsman is Ng Chi Wong, 69, with over 40 years of experience. The notable thing: throughout those four decades, he has never used any formal drawings. The entire technique resides in his memory. This point makes me pause. In basketball, we have assistant coaches, deep benches, and systematic youth development. Here, the entire 'tactics' of effigy-making resides in the mind of one person. If Mr. Ng retires without passing it on, this treasure trove of knowledge will disappear. Aware of this risk, the organizing committee has proactively recorded the entire construction process on video, expected to be posted on Facebook after the festival ends on August 29. This is a smart preservation strategy, but it is also a difficult puzzle. I look back at the festival's history for a reference point. Since the 1970s, the festival is not just a spiritual ritual but also a charitable platform. Funds raised by the organizing committee support schools and medical expenses for local residents. This transformation is no different from a sports club seeking additional revenue streams beyond ticket sales. It gives the festival another reason to exist in the community's heart. And the community has responded — tens of thousands still come every year. But there is something the official reports do not say: the dependence on a single artisan. In sports, when a star player ages and has no replacement, we call it a 'generational gap.' Here, that gap is very visible. Mr. Ng is 69, has no drawings, and has no formally trained apprentice. Recording the process on video is a step in the right direction, but the skill of shaping from memory is very hard to learn through a screen. It requires direct contact, hands-on transmission — something no camera can replace. Another perspective: the digitalization of the festival, including online worship, may inadvertently dilute the value of the physical ritual. When people can make offerings from afar, do they still feel the need to come in person to understand the sacred atmosphere? This is not an easy question to answer. But it also opens access for young people who cannot come to Bukit Mertajam in person. They can follow the festival on social media, understand the meaning of the ritual, and perhaps — just perhaps — one of them will be drawn to the art of paper effigy-making. Will artisan Ng Chi Wong find a successor within the next 5 to 10 years? This question is not just for Malaysia. It is a common question for every country facing an aging generation of craftsmen and craftswomen. When the torchbearers gradually pass away, will we have the courage and wisdom to rewrite their 'book' into something that can be passed down? Or will we continue to let precious techniques fade into oblivion? The Hungry Ghost Festival in Penang is not just a festival. It is a test of humanity's ability to preserve identity in the modern world.