Friday, February 15, 2008
In ASIAN religion lecutre now, some random people dressed in pink pjs and pink scarves just ran into the lecture theater and randomly gave out sweets. The prof was ike, oh! The Valentine Bandits! Haha, amusements of an American unviersity
ONe day, when I was about 5, or 6, and I was happily watching TV in my grandmother's house, I realised I was radiating heat, for no reason or another. It didn't occur to me it was a fever, and I felt fine. I told my grandmother in chinese," I feel warm". She felt my forehead, and said, No problem leh. At this point fever still didn't occur to me. My aunt then told me to go over and felt my forehead, and she told mygrandmother in Chinese, fa shao! (And I stil lfelt fine) Immediately I was whisked off to bed, my grandmother took the red tupperware and filled it with ice water, and put the towel to my head that night, changing it when neededAnother day, I can't exactly remembe the details, but I was still around the same age. I know I was sick and I felt terrible and I recall my grandmother walking me to the pediatrician at Serangoon Central. It was about midday and there was no one in the streets, just the quiet of the morning. Then after the doctor we walked by a bakery and she asked if i wanted a donut. From then on I didn't like donuts cos they were too sweeta nd I was alreay feeling nauseous. Now even the smell can make me feel nauseus. I went back and she put me to bed and I slept the lazy afternoon away...When I was older, and I no longer stayed with my grandparents, there was once I came down with fever. And my mum spent the whole night beside me nursing me and making sure I recover.ANd then there was one study break when I woke up in the morning and drank a cup of orange juice. Promptly, I vomited. I lay on the sofa and was unable to get up. Whenever I tried, I vomited. By midday, my dad came back form work to send me to the doctor. I spent the rest of the day either on the bed watching alias or on the couch watching friends. There's nothing like an illness to make you miss home like anything (and I'm not even that sick)
I realised that 12 years of Singaporean education really made me think like a Singaporean. I suppose I'm a desired product of the Singaporean education, doing relatively well in the exams they want me to do well in, OLevels, ALevels, and in the subjects they want me to do well in: Maths, Science e.t.c. So the trip to Rochester made me realise that I really do think like a Singaporean. Given a topic, the Americans were able to express all their opinions on it. And when I tried to think what I can express about the topic, there were only 3 ways I can think of it: the pros, the cons, and the economic effects.
Its not a bad start; At least its something to think about, but its definitely not the best; far from it, as a matter of fact. I realised that this is probably the way most Singaporean bureaucrats think, judging from their media releases and their decisions, and this is how the SSA meetings go. To put it frankly, I think that Singaporean bureaucrats are a bit of a joke. Efficient, serious, no doubt, but their efficiency and seriousness and their obsession with statistics are kinda funny. All politicians are obsessed with stastistics but Singapore kinda takes it too far. (Neil HUmphries quoted a Singaporean bureaucrat: "We have to take the business of having fun seriously")
But ANYWAY, my point here is that I think I'm becoming rigid and inflexible in my thinking, and its something I'm totally not satisfied with. When I came here, I kept saying, oh, open to new ideas yadayadayada. Now I actually find difficulty in that, and Rachel mentioned that we hve to be opened to new cultures, and with a start I realised that, she's right. We're actually not open to new cultues and ideas.
Just my 2 cents worth.
These few days were kinda fun. Watched Kindaichi with Szeyen and Xiaowei on thurs, cut hair on Tues, watched altoalot of shows and in the process screwed up quite abit of midterms ARGHH!
tis xmas, plz stay wit me..
xx
1:08 AM
# # # Sunday, February 03, 2008
Sometimes when I'm standing at the window of someone's dorm in Baits, looking down atop the hill at the lights above pierpont and dude, I inadvertably remind myself of my childhood spent happily in my grandmother's house in Serangoon, where I sometimes stood at the window of her flat on the 8th floor, looking down upon the brightly litted Serangoon central. I remember the night air always smelling crisp and fresh, and the sound of children's laughter at the playgrounds replacing the hustle of the morning's marketplace. From time to time, a travelling fair will set up, or a pasir malam, and the place would be even brighter and busier. These are the memories I love to hold on to. (Even relive, but given development and circumstanses, probably impossible.)
There's another memory I like to recall; My grandmother bringing me to mum's workplace in clarke quay. She'll take me on the red SBS bus and the white and red mrt (god knows if they have all been replaced by the black and red one), which to me was an adventure in its own right, considering my parents weren't really public transport person. Its amazing to think that even then, I was entranced by the life by the riverside, even though I didn't know what held my fascination. I rmb a few years later, when I was 8
, and my parents asked me what and where I wanted to go for my birthday, and I said clarke quay. Without knowing why, without knowing what I could do there, I just knew that I liked that place. Next time I would be content just lying under the stars with my special other, watching, but not participating in the activity that goes around, viewing not just the stars but also the skyscrapers and shophouses alike.
I remember as well the limited Singapore I knew in the early 1990s. I remember some episode in some distant memory where I trailed my grandmother to the doctor, where the chairs were wooden with red cusions, the weighing scale, for both medicine and human, was the manual one, where you had to adjust the weights. I remember that's the first time I saw the blood pressure pump. And my grandmother and her freinds would bring me out, I rmrmber there was once we walked by some marketplace in some aprt of Singapore, and I looked wistfully at a packet of toys and they bought it for me. The rest of the afternoon was spent happily back in the flat playing with mesak mesak. The HDB corridors always smelt of good food..been paste steamed fish...fried ginger...fried garlic...I remember housewives standing by the door and talking, all the time, in hokkien, chinese e.t.c.
Hot afternoons then I was either lazing around, there was no one at home besides my grandmother and she'd be resting, probably, or my grandparents would bring me out, to the zoo, or mount faber. The heat is killing but afternoons are usually quiet, esp weekday afternoons, and my ear captures sounds that we usually don't hear. The distant drill, a high pitched sound that comes with every hot quiet afternoon but I never really identified. When I was older, maybe 14, I would lie on my bed on hot afternoons similar to those and reminisence (I see I have the makings of a old woman even at such a young age).
Evenings however, were a great contrast. Things were picking up; People were returning from work, the white lights in the corridor switched on, NYJC were releasing students. While having dinner by the window, I would see the younger working adults in their suits and pumps returning from work. Afterwards, about 7, when the sky is darkening, the place becomes quieter again, save for some children laughter by the playgrounds. My grandfather would bring us down for walks...and then I'd spend my nights in the comforts of a aircon room watching comedy night (liangpopo!) and the 9pm drama serial (chen hanwei!) with my grandmother and aunt.
I actually started off wanting only to write the first paragraph, but obviuosly I couldn't stop. And I would reiterate again how I have the makings of an old lady at the tender age of 20. But then again, 20 ain't tender. I'm feeling old. And so is everyone around me. And when I think of my grandmother and her friends, all of whom took part in the formation of my childhood memories, I feel sad. I will never be able to tell my grandparents or their freinds this, and I will never be able to express how much I'm grateful for to them, but I think the greatest gift I have in this life is my childhood memories to look back upon and they are the ones who made them and moulded them and made me feel loved. I am able to look back at a time where I was natural and outgoing unlike now where I feel cautious and restricted with every move. I feel, too, like I explored Singapore in its truest form then. It was definitely not as modern and the places were slgihtly run down and old, but somehow they make me feel warmer. When I'm back in Singapore I'm going to ask my grandparents to bring me to Mt Faber again, for old times sake. Or a travelling fun fair again. And I'll stay at my grandmother's house, watch drama serials, and talk to her in the dark, again, till we drift off , peacefully, to sleep.
tis xmas, plz stay wit me..
xx
11:38 AM
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