WHILE his colleagues make a beeline for lunch, 47-year-old accountant Louis Loo takes a little detour, walking in the midday sun to Siang Cho Keong, a Chinese temple on Amoy Street.

Inside, amid the swirling incense and chimes of brass bells, he finds a moment of solace. Tua Pek Kong, he prays, please protect my investment.

Mr Loo has $200,000 invested in structured deposits.

It's not linked to the bankrupt Lehman Brothers and the bank is telling him it's safe.

But Mr Loo wants assurance of a higher order.

Places of worship often see devotees like Mr Loo in times of crises, turning to god in their hour of need.

Churches in the US reported packed pews after the 11 Sep terrorist attacks in 2001.

And now, Wall Street churches are reportedly seeing more suits and ties at its lunchtime meetings.

On 19 Oct, The New Paper on Sunday carried a report about investors at Kwan Im Thong Hood Cho Temple on Waterloo Street praying for a stock market recovery.

The scene is not repeated in Shenton Way though.

Sprinkled amid these steel-and-glass skyscrapers are a handful of old temples, mosques and churches.

But not only are these places of worship not seeing a rise in visitors, some are even seeing a drop.

'The financial crisis looks terrible from newspaper reports, but from here in the temple, it seems the impact has not sunk in yet,' said temple helper Jenny Tay.

Madam Tay, who is in her 50s, interprets divinatory sticks for devotees at Siang Cho Keong temple.

The work gives her a glimpse into the dreams, hopes and fears of those who come here.

'Temples in the heartlands tend to get more people asking about things like studies, auspicious dates and 4D numbers,' she said. 'Here in the CBD, however, our devotees ask about more work-related matters like jobs, career paths and promotion prospects.'

A temple in the CBD, she believes, has a better gauge of what the mood is like in workplaces these days.

'We are just a few steps away from meetings, contract-signings and the stock market floor,' she said.

'If bosses and workers are unsure about a new contract or want to find inspiration on the stock market floor, they walk a few steps here and ask for advice.'

Still, the number of visitors is not going up, and may have dropped since the financial crisis began.

It used to be different.

'Before land reclamation, many of these temples sat right on the coastline,' said veteran heritage guide Geraldene Lowe-Ismail. 'They were the centres of communal life. They were the first places migrants visited to give thanks after arriving.'

Today, the temples stand in the shadow of skyscrapers. The once-bustling Yueh Hai Ching Temple on Philip Street is now a pocket of ethereal calm.

It doesn't get many Shenton Way-type visitors - about 20 a day - and even that number has fallen.

At lunchtime, the CBD crowd surges past its ancient red doors, but few go in.

Mr Quek, a temple helper in his 30s, said: 'Many of these banker types prefer to seek solace at the Boat Quay pubs. The pub is their temple.'

The Sri Mariamman Temple on South Bridge Road cannot be certain if there has been an increase in the number of devotees.

Said its 43-year-old secretary, Mr Raja Perian: 'It's hard to tell as we are getting a lot of devotees at this time of the year because of the fire-walking festival.'

At St Andrew's Cathedral, attendance has increased by 5 per cent in the last three weeks. With a congregation of 4,000, that works out to an increase of 200.

Said the vicar, Reverend Kuan Kim Seng: 'The financial system that we have is one which encourages us to acquire more and more. So this crisis has become a good chance for many people to reflect on their lives... It forces us to focus on things of eternal value.'

At Al-Abrar Mosque, on Telok Ayer Street, there has been no changes in attendance to its mostly-CBD worker crowd, said Mr Mohd Meerasha, 60, the mosque treasurer. Neither has the mosque been receiving more requests for financial assistance.

Here, news of the financial turmoil is met not with anxiety, but with ambivalence.

'In Islam, you are not supposed to collect interest on your loans in the first place. Even if you do collect, you cannot use it for yourself. You must give it to charity,' said Mr Mohd. 'It is our religion's way of making sure there is morality in the banking system.'

A more relaxed attitude prevails at the Palmer Road Tua Pek Kong Temple.

'Many Taoists like to gamble,' said Mr Robin Aw, 55, a temple helper, with a shrug.

'But Taoism is also the religion of the ordinary folks who struggle to make ends meet. The banker-type is usually not a Taoist.'

And some see religion as being above all the financial turmoil unfolding around them.

Said marketing manager K K Liem, 60, a regular visitor offering incense at Siang Cho Keong temple: 'There will always be good times and bad times. Either way, you have to pray. You have to be sincere.'

This article was first published in The New Paper on October 27, 2008.