Co-existing species

It must be a sign.

If not, what could explain why all these came together this holiday?

I have always enjoyed long holidays, from the time I was young to till now (and because of my vocation, I have been very lucky to continue to enjoy this privilege). Especially the late November-December break each year. Somehow this period has the ability to effect immense changes in one's mindset, attitude or perspective on various things. Perhaps it is simply the fact that this holiday period lies at the cusp of each year-end and the beginning of a new one, and hence more romantic and charming, unlike the late May-June holiday break which serves a more functional purpose in injecting some needed break in the midst of busyness. Each year-end break, I am always grateful to discover something new, or to have had the chance to look at something differently, and such epiphanies could arise from my travelling or just simply staying put. These epiphanies ran the gamut from discovering I could possibly be a closet racist (gasp!) to pulling together threads of family connections and understanding what makes my family, my family.


This holiday, there is the opportunity to venture into the world of animals in a way that I never was interested to do so. It all started with Channel 424 on Starhub Cable.  Animal Planets channel is not new to me (though I watched that usually when there wasn't anything more interesting on other channels) but there never has been that magical draw -- till this holiday.

I am hardly an animal person. I have always viewed them as another species which co-existed with mankind in this world and have always steered clear of them as I always view them with an amount of fear (of the unknown, the unfamiliar). Somehow this December, i find myself immensely fascinated by the many animal species I have never known existed in the world (eg. the transparent octopus), their evolutionary history and the whole predator-prey relationships on land and in water.

Most of all, the relationships between man and animals is like a territory I never thought much about but which now beckons to me. I grew fascinated with hosts Tristan Bayer and Vanessa Garnick (below) in their escapades with wild creatures in "Caught in the Moment" series.  "

It is exciting to see how they get excited about their carefully-crafted plan to catch a glimpse of the ring-tailed lemur leaping from trees to trees (it is an excitement almost of a pure kind, not one of those put up for TV, I'd like to think), and how they devise creative schemes in order to video creatures up, close and personal. Judging from their biodata from Google, I gather their fervent passion must have stemmed from their childhoods and growing up in households where parents are themselves well-versed and comfortable with wildlife. For me, it reinforces too how important one's formative childhood is -- it can be so impactful that what one do with one's young will reap results (or scars) in their subsequent adulthood.

Next came the movie Life of Pi.

I have never been a fan of fiction, and to an extent, even snobbishly view the genre as an inferior brother of non-fiction works, simply from a realism perspective: We already do not know enough of the world as it is and probably will never know enough in one's lifetime. Hence, whenever we can, shouldn't we channel our time and devote our energy to understanding the reality around us instead of conjuring up imaginary worlds? I can never reconcile to reading fiction hence (despite finding great comfort in reading classics during Literature years in my younger days).


There isn''t much of a need to guess what will be written next. That I totally enjoyed Life of Pi the movie and is now reading the book. That someone has the capacity and the ability to create this master story made me realise that I have too early in my life scoffed at what cannot be proven true. It awes, humbles and overwhelms me that one's imagination can be so immense.

Going back to the aim of this post, the movie also deepens my interest in the art and science of co-existing with animals. In the movie, Pi tells himself that he accepted that Richard Parker, the tiger, can never be tamed, ""But by God's will, it can be trained." Reading the book which explains more on how circus trainers train the animals, I thought it also sheds some light for me on my work as a teacher (!!). Afterall, we are all animals, and like what Pi's father likes to say, the most dangerous animals in the planet.

Lessons from Kungfu Panda

Animated movies seldom interests me. I suspect it is a childhood thing as I cannot remember being very fond of cartoons (though I did recall my elder sister and me going through a craze period over Carebears and Smurfs, but that was about all).

But somehow, I felt compelled to watch more of them these days due to a work necessity --  for someone in the teaching industry, it seems blasphemous that I do not know famous characters or songs from a famous animated movie, hence showing myself to seriously lack similar points of reference to these students??

I am glad I chose Kungfu Panda to ease me into this watching-animated-shows mode as it offers up several good learning points for me (hence fulfilling my need to always 'learn' something):

1. It is essential to know your student's learning needs.

Upon realising that Po is driven by food, Shi Fu is able to design his teaching based on what drives his disciple. That's a sound (but many a time forgotten) principle of good teaching.

2. Knowing your student's learning style is key.

Not all students learn the same way. When Shi Fu realises Po learns things the íncidental way, he sought to give lessons the way his student needs it. Remember the scene where Shi Fu was sparring with Po using chopsticks which proved to come in handy subsequently in Po's showdown with Tai Lung in which he used bamboo canes?

3. What matters at the end of the day, really, is to believe and to have faith.

This calls out to me as I would need tremendous faith as I embarked on a form-teacher role next year. Form-teachership  is daunting and overwhelming as I think about it still. The mother-hen role of taking charge of a class and going beyond academics to see to their social, emotional and behavioural aspects.


Though I know somehow I will survive, the thought that I will have sleepless nights worrying about many things that need to be worried about certainly is not pleasant. Hence I need to have faith that whatever may happen, I will have the sensibility to know what to do, even if I have never had experience with form-teachership. I need to believe that I have enough, erm, love to go around a class of 20 with different needs. I need to have faith that no matter how trying and difficult a class is, somehow I will come to a way to connect to them. I need to believe in the cosmos that no matter how exasperating and hopeless a situation is, signs will reveal themselves to me along the way, showing me what I need to do. Most of all, I need to know that no matter what happens, I know I did my best as I always do.


Hmm, so what animated show next?

Anything goes

Bylines have always intrigued me. Whenever an article in the papers interests me, the first tendency is to look to the top of the article to see who writes it. And on occasions, I felt compelled to write to the writer to let her know how touching his/her writing is. Perhaps simply, bylines reminded me of how journalism used to excite me -- the sense of adrenalin I felt after having got a story, the thrill of having coined a perfect opening in my mind on the way back to the office in a cab ride.

A byline which was sorely missed for a few years was that of Ching Cheong's as he was detained in a China prison for suspected treason between 2005 and 2008. Hence I jumped at the chance to meet him at a panel discussion held last month in the Singapore Press Holdings HQ at Toa Payoh, as part of his launch of his book (cover of the book as shown above).

Ching Cheong, in real life, is completely different from whom I would have imagined him to be. I was expecting him to cut a tall and imposing figure, with a melancholic quality but he was as tall as me and slightly hunched. Certainly, my background knowledge of him has influenced my sense of perception. But seeing him up close and personal certainly did not diminish the respect I have for this man - someone who dares to dream, a quality which has not diminished with unlawful incarceration is rare indeed. Listening to his intellectual sharing about China's political state, the lucidity state of his mind and his equanimity strucks me greatly. Subsequently reading his book which sheds light on his intense experiences and observations of what goes on around and within him, it strucks me that such meticulous awareness of one's emotions and close scrutiny of his suffering can either break a man or lead to experiences of epiphany. For him, it seems the latter. But what makes the difference between him and many intensely introspective individuals (such as writers and artists) who went through intense tormenting experiences and who sought self-destructive routes, I wonder?

I felt it was a sense of mission, a commitment to a cause larger than himself - that makes all the difference.

For some reason too, I think being in a place which I had once longed to be in, brought back memories and feelings. It dawned me that had I continued my journalism days and was accepted by SPH as a journalist in 2005 instead of stumbling upon a teaching career, life would have had taken on a very different turn. My interests would have been shaped quite quite differently, life's lessons would have been of a very different kind, and most importantly, I would have met a set of people whose influences would have rubbed off on me in unpredictable ways. It's truly amazing.

Reading Travellogues

                                             From "The Tao Of Travel", by Paul Theroux


It occurs to me that travel-writing probably involves a degree of narcissim (erm, is that why I like it??). But then again, aren't most works of art (be they literary, photographic) like that?

Anyway, I have been on a travellogue-reading craze the past few days - and what a wonderful way to start off my month-long holiday!

This particular quote called out to me:

"Most travel, and certainly the rewarding kind, involves depending on the kindness of strangers, putting yourself into the hands of people you don't know and trusting them with your life."

How true it is. And it is with this conviction that I decided the first travellogue I will read this holiday is this, a collection of contributions from writers who happen to like travelling:

What a great read it was - a collection of wacky, funny, thought-provoking stories, some of which are dramatic enough to be able to be a Hollywood-remake. It was interesting how some of the best writings I like came from women travellers. I like how one entry deals with some very real questions I always asked myself during travel (the sense of "obligation'' towards some people you meet along the way and the middle class guilt one feels) and a twist in the definition of 'kindness' in another entry, but no less 'kind''. So HQ, you must read the book!!

It also reminded me of the many acts of kindness and trustworthiness shown to my travelling partners and me all these while.  From LZ and I riding (and speeding) pillion with WW2 Vietnamese veterans-turned-Easyriders who bring tourists around for a living in Dalat (they could jolly have thrown us off the winding hills) to museum office workers offering HQ and me a ride far out to the city from the Salt mountains in the suburb part of Tainan (they certainly didn't have to). As much as these acts often lead me to wonder what I have done to deserve them, they also made me understand kindness knows no boundaries. And the only way around it is to pass it on, as the cliche goes.

The End of My Sabbatical

"The real voyage of discovery lies not in finding new landscapes but in having new eyes."

I just realised there is this post I wrote some time in June but did not publish due to my obsession with wanting to perfect it (usually over and over again before i hit the 'publish'button) and in the middle of it all, forgot all about it. So here's it:

One more week and I will take on a new status – I will go be going back to having a full-time job.

I am not entirely sure if I am ready for it. On careful observation of the underlying reasons, I realised it is not because I have not done most of what I set out to do (afterall, I did complete 80 percent of my to-do list - something I am very proud of!). The most important reason is that I felt I have not spent enough time with myself, narcissistic as it sounds. The time spent alone is something I cherish so much, as it seems to get harder and harder as one gets older, due to various social commitments. Most of all, I was disappointed that I had not managed to repeat the feat 10 years ago of not stepping out of my house for 2 whole weeks. I had wanted so much to do that (even if it was just for one week).

But it also occurred to me that even if I do take another 1 full year off, that will not satisfy me as I will never have enough of time spent with myself. Since that is the case, I will just have to tell myself to be grateful for whatever I had this far.

That said, it has been an extremely fruitful half year  of Sabbatical. I must say also it is not entirely a Sabbatical as I did freelance work starting from January. Not that I am complaining as my freelance work exposed me to worlds beyond which I would have not had if I did not do it.  I come to feel deeply privileged to be able to enter the lives of my students and their families, of whom I learnt a lot from. Most of all, my dabbling lands me with the full-time job that I am taking on now.

It has been an eventful 6 months. Like the quote above that I chanced upon when I was browsing in a shop at Clementi Mall, I realised I was so blessed to have encountered new landscape (with my travels and overseas volunteering stint) as well as having donned a new pair of eyes at home. I visited new places, revisit familiar people, reconnected with old friends, and am very lucky to be able to re-understand them  with a different pair of lenses. There were good experiences, as well as not-so-good experiences, all of which allowed me to understand myself and how I function better.

The half year Sabbatical also reinforces that there really is nothing absolute in life. What I resolutely thought I will do, I turned out not doing. What I resolutely thought I won’t do, I took it on eventually (though with lots of trepidations and apprehensions).

Life, really, is interesting.

A more practical way of blogging

It has been a deafening silence the past half year. And the only reason is that there is simply no time to write (and rewrite) since I started full time work in June.

But I have not lost interest in my blog. Afterall it gave me so much pleasure and comfort during my half a year of discoveries (within me and of the world around me), and most importantly because I love how writing serves as the medium from which I reflect upon life.

So I am making a comeback - using this android blogger app that I found out from LZ. If there is any area that I should put my smartphone to good use, this should be it. Only then will I be able to justify my $45 monthly phone bill for the data plan.

Am feeling quite proud of myself for being in tandem with the modern world, no matter the baby steps. :)

Phnom Penh's Riverfront

The hotel that Dawn and I stays in lies along the Riverfront, overlooking the Tonle Sap, a lake which extends into the Mekong River, where come each October, it would turn quite festive, with Cambodians celebrating the Water Festival to commemorate the reversal of tides after a rainy season.


During the past few days, other than the touristy things I do (am very thankful most of the touristy things are quite near the Riverfront so I do not have to venture too far out which, which works well for my lack of a good sense of direction), I got to spend a lot of time at the Riverfront, which became one of my favourite places.


The Riverfront seems to manifest the paradox which exists in much of Cambodia. It is mostly appealing, especially the lake itself. Hordes of tourists as well as local dating couples throng the boat cruises that sail into the Mekong River. If one chooses the ideal timing to go onboard (which Dawn and I discovered it to be 5.30pm), one would be assured of a gratifying combinations of the gentle twilight of the day culminating in a majestic sunset before easing itself into night, complete with Khmer pop songs.


There is a great deal of life along the riverbank too. Locals who live on floating villages nearby would dock their boat by the bank, possibly to replenish their daily necessities and also to sell their day's catch (fishes), I am guessing?

The men would wait by the shore while the womenfolk go to the local market just across the road from the river bank. They would be back in a while’s time, carrying their heavy supplies for the day on circular rattan baskets (typically used for drying food) and in acrobatic style, runs down the 45 degree slopes along the riverfront, into boats that await them. Am very impressed!

Along the huge boulevard on the riverfront, groups of locals gather at various spots to exercise and dance (which somewhat resembles line dancing) to different Khmer folk music which adds to the cacophony on the busy streets. A particular Khmer folk music even sings to the tune of the nursery song ‘Five Little Ducks Went Out One Day’! Not surprisingly, this part of the riverfront attracts many tourists.

At the other end of the riverfront however, opposite the Royal Palace and Silver Pagoda, presents a slightly different scene, injecting several doses of reality. Here, there aren't as many tourists. Several old women lug and hawk heavy containers of food and snacks. A well-dressed Caucasian man blatantly goes up to and seeks a sexual favour from a young Cambodian girl sitting next to me. 

There are many beggars too, and after a while, many questions come to mind which would require a certain amount of rationalisation and hence discomfort – why do I give money to a child beggar who looks on with imploring eyes but decide not to buy from a child selling styrofoam-wrapped mango (as I don’t eat mango)? Both types of acts are discouraged, according to local travelling advice  (as this could discourage the parents from sending them to school). But when I did what I did, did the child who is attempting to earn an honest living decide then that it must be easier to survive when he begs? Perhaps it is more okay to give to the elderly and the physically handicapped as they are very unlikely to be able to find jobs in a land where 9 out of 10 graduates (2005 statistics) are unemployed? After a while, these questions start to spiral.

In spite of all that, my time here makes me feel hopeful about the country, simply because it is a nation where its young seem so energised and an extremely hardworking lot. It seems difficult to find a non-hardworking young person here. At the NGO where I volunteered, a typical young Cambodian teacher works in the day and rushes off to study in the evening. Sometimes, he may even try to squeeze in some valuable learning time during the 2 hour lunch siesta. Come weekends, he may hold another job, depending on what skills he possesses. If something can’t work out, he will look for another outlet (apparently many tuk-tuk drivers in Phnom Penh are IT graduates and I think I just saw one outside my hotel studying very hard for an exam while keeping an eye out for potential customers).

Given such ingenuity and creativeness in its younger generation, I hope that they will succeed in carving a bright future for themselves.  

The many sides of trees

Trees have always fascinated me. I think in my previous life, I must have been a tree, for my favourite colours are green (first) and brown (second). I also love what a tree stands for – continuing aspirations and ambitions yet with roots firmly planted in the ground. In particular, I love old trees, especially banyan trees which have withstand centuries and with so much history behind them. 

Old trees took on a different meaning for me yesterday though when I visited the Choeung Ek Genocidal Center, or what is more commonly known as the Killing Fields. The very peaceful nature of the place (despite the throngs of tourists) belies a place filled with so much dread and evil just about more than 30 years ago. Out in the fields, there are two trees which I will remember for a long long time.

The first is the most captivating one in the fields for there are many colourful bracelets adorning it. It has a sinister name though – 'The Killing Tree’. It was so named because it was where the Khmer soldiers-executioners grabbed babies and children by their legs and smash their skulls against, before throwing their bodies into the mass grave next to it. The colourful bracelets were a way to remember the many young and innocent lives robbed.

The second tree has a huge canopy and looks very very reassuring especially during a very hot day. It is called ‘The Magic Tree’. It was where a loudspeaker was hung during the genocide, from which loud revoluntionary songs played out each night to mask the screams of masses of people brought in on trucks from the Tuol Sleng High School where they were tortured, to be killed and buried in mass graves at the Killing Fields. For the Khmer Rouge soldiers, perhaps the 'magic' existed in that not many discovered the atrocities committed until after the Khmer Rouge regime ended a few years later. People just assumed there were rounds and rounds of communist meetings in the place each night.  

Trees will never be the same again.

Mr V

Mr V is our tuk-tuk driver who ferried us from place to place daily during the past 3 weeks. It is really so important to have a reliable and trustworthy one which could make or break a long-term stay in a country. Dawn and I were very lucky to have one in him. In fact, we quite quite adore him.

It must be said though that verbal Interactions with Mr V for the past three weeks were limited, as we assume (not sure from where) that he has both limited receptive and expressive abilities in English. Our day typically start with exchanges of smiles in the morning when he picks us up and saying ‘Or Koon’ (thank you) at the end of our working day. Towards the end of our volunteering period when we were equipped with a slightly expanded repertoire of Khmer vocabulary, we added ‘Soos day’ (Hello) and subsequently ‘Sok sebai dai’ (how are you) in our daily interactions with him. He will always have a kindly nod and a zen smile for us, and am always very patient. Not least to say, he often has a bemused look whenever we try our very best to speak long sentences of Khmer to him.  

One of my favourite rituals during my commute is to observe him through his tuk tuk's rear-view mirrors as he navigates calmly through the busy traffic; it fascinates me how he seems to know everyone in the community, exchanging greetings as he swirls around the community which he is so familiar with. He seems to be well-regarded in the community; I reckon he could probably run for the village headman, if there is such a position.

He seems to hold a special place in his heart when it comes to children, which could explain why he opts to be a ‘child-safe’ driver  --  child-safe tuk-tuk drivers in Phnom Penh are trained by NGO Friends-International to protect street children from abusive situations (especially child prostitution) through their ChildSafe Network. These drivers need to go through training and are recognized by the ChildSafe shirt or cap they wear and the ChildSafe logo (a thumbs up sign) on their tuk tuks. Such active citizenry must be given the thumbs-up literally – it shows that everyone can play a part, no matter who you are.

Mr V comes across as a simple man, but definitely not a simplistic man. He has deep, wrinkly lines on his face which possibly belies a lifetime of hard work; it makes me wonder how life for him was during the Pol Pot regime during the late 1970s. Despite the difficult life he must have been through, he appears to be someone who appreciates and finds joy in everyday life. He notices and turns to smile at a young toddler walking by the roadside; he is easily amused too, such as when seeing a playful young couple zooming him by on a motorbike.

In fact, I can not imagine Mr V accosting for passengers – he seems too dignified for that.  I am glad hence that he is attached to Riverkids, meaning to say he transports volunteers around, which I hope means a more stable business for him (as there will be more or less a constant supply of volunteers from time to time). His prices are honestly reasonable, compared to those charged by many a tuk-tuk driver alongside the street who often accosts one with a playful starting line "Lady, tuk-tuk for you?"

I wish Mr V well.

Bliss in Cambodia

I believe it will be something that I will miss for some time.

The lunch ritual in Riverkids starts this way. The cooks (mostly Cambodian men) for the day will start their rounds collecting money from people who will be lunching in during the day, and set off to go to the market to get ingredients for lunch. 

The cooks will then return triumphant, loaded with the day’s lunch supplies. Each meal involves different ingredients and food bought, depending on how many people are lunching in (which will hence decide how much money is pooled together). On days where there are many lunch participants, there would be meat and fish bought, and sometimes even dessert (fruits). One unforgettable fruit is a honeydew and avocado-like fruit, which Cambodians dip with sugar!!

What follows next is a one-hour multisensory act that takes place in Riverkids’ kitchen, involving the sharpening of knives, chopping of the day’s kill, whipping of eggs, mixing of sauces, all of which are interspersed with huge doses of bantering and laughter.  This is followed swiftly by fragrant whiffs of the days’ dishes that float up to the second level, into the volunteers’ room where Dawn and I do our work, as we wait for lunch to be served.  

When everyone is gathered at the table, the main cook (usually the Education director) will dish out the last dish. Lunch is eaten using a small plastic spoon; while it can be a tricky balancing act using itto eat long, leafy vegetables, one acquires the skill after some time. Bantering goes on all the time, mostly in Khmer, yet seldom do I feel like an outsider.

This is bliss in Cambodia.

Breakfast at Blue Pumpkin

I haven’t been writing as much as I would have loved to and there are many reasons for that. Namely, there isn’t much time to do that after a busy day at work, the dim lighting in the hotel room is not supportive of a writing routine, and most of all the living and educational situations I encounter often seem to be beyond what my words can describe.

That said, I shall attempt to write something today, simply because today is Sunday and because I just spent a lovely morning with myself having breakfast at The Blue Pumpkin, a bakery cum café that is just two doors away from where Dawn and I stay along the Riverfront (and where we get our breakfast from almost every day after 8pm when all pastries and bread are sold at 30 per cent discount).

 It has been a very productive morning, having done quite a bit of work and read what I want to read, the entire morning interspersed by fascinating observations of couples who come and go (both heterosexual, homosexual and of varying degrees of dubiousness). All of a sudden, I am reminded of what my precocious student N told me to do (call the police) when I see an old Caucasian man with a local child.

I am inspired to do a bit of writing also because of a little entry I just read in a book about Phnom Penh’s historical development.

It appears that before Phnom Penh was known as such, it was called Chatomuk, or ‘The Place of the Four faces’ (ie.looking out towards four directions). This is probably related to the four-faced towers of the Bayon temple at Angkor in Siem Reap.

What a well-given name! It truly captures the sense of openness of the place, I felt, despite centuries since the city was last known as that. Perhaps this is why there are so many NGO (non-governmental ogranisations) here, as observed by Dawn, compared to other developing countries. This open nature that seems to be ubiquitous in its people is something that touches me quite a bit too during my work with the local teachers.

The Cambodian culture which seems to embrace differences was greatly reinforced yesterday too, at a local wedding which Dawn and I were invited to (much to our delight!) We had much fun and experienced for ourselves the warmth of total strangers we do not know. Though we were absolutely deficient in the department of proper wedding attire, we did not feel out of place throughout the evening and even danced through the evening with all of them (no mean feat, considering I have 2 left/right feet).

It was more than just because we were obviously not locals and were ‘excused’ in various ways. In part, I felt it was more because this is a place that does not judge so fast and so easily. The lovely bit is they do not even have to put in effort to include us; it just come so naturally to them, and always done in a very down-to-earth manner. It makes it unavoidable to compare to more cosmopolitan places (and people) which/often proclaim how open they are (but actually not quite so), thereby revealing a degree of hypocrisy.

As such, meal times with the locals are a joy - there is no need to make contrived conversations and small talk. The locals talk to one another in Khmer,  but will switch to English when they want to speak to us. That is refreshing as I am used to a culture where we try to talk common topics, common language in order to make an effort to include people (of course, unless the intention is to exclude :P). The Cambodians display no hint of any concern that they are excluding us when they talk in Khmer and their own topics, not because they are insensitive, but simply because that is natural. Else, Dawn and I are left to enjoy our meal,and how gladly we appreciate the pragmatic and down-to-nature of the culture!

Will end off the entry with a picture of the wedding invite and the 'red packets' that Dawn gallantly and creatively designed for both of us (since we would not have thought to bring red packets along with us)!

Cambodia Part II

I am back in Cambodia, this time round, with a very different purpose and a different status. In this one month that I will be in Phnom Penh, my time here will be less to see the sights of a country on the cusp of heavy industrialisation tourism development. Instead, I felt greatly privileged to be able to go beneath and understand more about the inner workings of the people and the country, and it has been a humbling one week.

In a land with so much disparities, it can be pretty overwhelming to work to advance the conditions of the people, especially when one knows that there are so many forces they are working against. Hence I am very respectful of the staff at Riverkids where I am volunteering - they have such a crystal clear reality of the situation and the challenges that lie ahead of them, yet are so dogged and persistent in doing what they think they should do, if only to improve the condition of their charges, one child at a time.

Coincidentally, one of my friends in Singapore is involved in guest curating an exhibition on Cambodian photography and there are some very interesting works there, which helped me gain a greater insight into the country. Here's more about the exhibition, currently held at the Institute of Contemporary Arts Singapore, from 8 March to 1 April 2012.

http://zhuangwubin.posterous.com/ruptures-and-revival-cambodian-photography-in

He has a very comprehensive write-up here too, published previously in a magazine:

http://www.aaa.org.hk/newsletter_detail.aspx?newsletter_id=1144

One Day At A Time

Closer home, another person who has made an invaluable contribution to Singapore's history recently passed away. Much has been said and written about Dr Toh Chin Chye. As my post will not be able to do him justice since I do not profess to know all the details of his contributions and life, I shall instead examine what is possibly one very small factor that inspires his fiery life.

In today's Straits Times article, it was reported that one of Dr Toh's favorite hymn is 'One day at a time'. It intrigues me, especially since I find it difficult often to take one day at a time and often gets overwhelmed with things that are happening, will be happening, haven't quite happened, or probably will not happen (as one of the quotes in my favorite postcard goes, 'several days attack me at once'!). Even during this period of time when i should be enjoying my workless life!

I am curious to know how this song could possibly inspire a giant like him to continue pressing on despite some difficult times in his life, both in the public as well as in his private domains, and subsequently in the later part of his life, when facing his physical ailments. I goggled to listen to the Christian hymn; it is a beautiful song indeed,with these lovely verses:

Do you remember when you walked among men
Well Jesus you know
If you're lookin' below, it's worse now than then
Pushin' and shovin' and crowdin' my mind
So for my sake, teach me to take
One day at a time


One day at a time sweet Jesus
That's all I'm askin' of you
Just give me the strength
To do every day what I have to do
Yesterday's gone sweet Jesus
And tomorrow may never be mine
Lord, help me today, show me the way
One day at a time

I thought this song, in some ways, adds to the jigsaw of what makes Dr Toh.

Charles Dickens' 200th year

Yesterday was the 200th year anniversary of the birth of Charles Dickens. I have not read many of his works, and in fact, the few that I have read were those from my secondary school literature days. Hence while I do not know much about his books nor his life, I still remember my utmost respect for a great writer, for his quietly powerful observations about life and his awe-inspiring nuanced descriptions of his characters' emotions. I recalled how I could virtually see the scenes in front of me and feel exactly the pain that the characters were going through, as I indulged myself in every word. I remembered too my fervor in devouring memorable quotes from the characters in A Tale of Two Cities, namely from Sydney Carton (my favourite main character in the story) and Jarvis Lorry (my favourite underdog character) and churning them out with great relish in my essays. It's the best thing I could do next to producing them.

Reading his life story in the papers today reaffirmed my respect for a self-made man who pick up shorthand and went on to be a reporter in different fields. He actually even set up a home for prostitutes to help them begin lives anew. Most of all, I respect him for his strong belief that ordinary people have as interesting lives to tell as the rich and famous.

洗衣机

Unique metaphors are something that never cease to awe and humble me. And whenever I chance upon one that is so breath-taking, it makes me wonder how much it took for the creator to have that eureka moment (and so envious!). It also makes me very respectful of the entire creative process.

The most recent one I encountered which took my breath away was from Mayday (五月天)'s latest album, introduced to me by my sister. In one of their songs titled "洗衣机", they allude mothers to the machine. In case that sounds blasphemous, it is definitely not and in fact is a loving ode to our dilligent and steadfast mothers.

洗衣机

洗衣机 穿着一身 褪色塑料压克力
独坐在阳台上 受 日晒风吹雨淋
电视机 孩子们目光都以他为中心
黑色简约外型 多适合客厅

就算是吹风机 也有流线外型
紧握在手心 像跳舞亲密
光荣的电唱机 晋身为古董级
典雅的中音 比谁都 更受欢迎

木讷的洗衣机 从没有主题曲
只有风霜灰尘 让人不想接近

从来没有一句的怨言你丢多少它都洗
脱水总是全心又全力直到颤抖了身体
多少年了旋转又旋转时间一眨眼过去
上了年纪却依然尽力孤独勇敢洗衣机

咖啡机 欧洲进口 带著书卷贵族气
孩子都长大了 爱 围着它喝那堤
洗衣机 一直以来 度量很大没心机
它的唯一关心 是何时放晴

就算是已退役 的那台光碟机
也带我经历 冒险和爱情
冰箱的肚子里 啤酒和冰​​淇淋
抚慰了多少 失眠和 失恋的心

木讷的洗衣机 从学不会讨喜
洗过多少四季 然后再一世纪

所有电器都住在屋檐下不必风吹雨淋
却只有它孤独的守在阳台角落里运行
多少年了旋转又旋转时间一眨眼过去
上了年纪却依然尽力孤独勇敢洗衣机


The development of the metaphor then moves to a resounding climax:



突然有天好想要帮忙衣服放进洗衣机
才发现了它早就坏了只是舍不得换新
奇怪是谁一直清洗着我闯的祸和污泥
好久以来原来我衣服全部都是妈妈洗

从来没有一句的怨言你丢多少她都洗
她却总是全心又全力直到颤抖了身体


The part which never fails to bring tears to my eyes (my sis too!) whenever the song plays is in the last stanza:

多少年了旋转又旋转时间一眨眼过去
才发现了 妈妈一直是 我无声洗衣机
才发现了她的皱纹是无法偿还的借据
才发现了她的背影是无法释怀的风景

词：阿信@五月天
曲：怪兽@五月天
编曲：五月天;可乐Cola Kai


What a lovely song!

Cambodia

Cambodia is a fascinating country with a glorious past -- I never knew that during its heyday, it was the most powerful country in the Southeast Asia region.

However, as I did not have the chance to write during the trip itself, the inspiration to write is now lost unfortunately. That said, I will let my pictures do the talking.

Travelling with my new travelling partners (my uncle and his wife) and seeing things from their perspectives during this trip, is in itself an experience altogether.

Floating Village on Tonle Sap Lake

And like what my favourite travel writer  徐玫怡 says, " 人的风景"  往往是最精彩的.

A Cambodian Chinese street food vendor speaking Taiwanese-accented Mandarin

Borders, I always feel, present another world altogether. Whether it is due to the hectiness of trading across the two countries (Cambodia and Eastern Thailand), or the fact that people who are marginalised congregate there, it seems a harsher and tougher world out there.

King Rama 3 - frugal and wise

Having the chance to unravel a longstanding questioning one has since young is a feeling that is quite quite inexplicable - all the more so when one isn't looking for it.

I remembered in secondary school when I studied the history of Thailand, I often wondered how the country managed to avoid being colonised -- no mean feat as it was the only country in Southeast Asia that managed to pull this off (if I get my facts correct). Other than escaping Japanese colonisation (which my history text did explain the reason), the country also escaped being colonised by the French while her neighbours did not (this point was unexplained in my history text).

The answer was provided amazingly at Pink and Piya's wedding, courtesy of their wedding favour below:

It turns out that King Rama 3 (a cousin of King Mongkut and a son of King Rama the 2) as seen above, who ruled from 1824-1851, played a major part in saving his country from coming under foreign rule, thanks to his frugal personality. King Rama 3 had a habit of saving, where he would store his money in a box on the table next to where he slept every night. It came up to 3 million baht and the king knew that one day it will come to use. The story goes then that at that time, France demanded from Thailand a sum of money to settle a truce, in order not to be colonised. No prize for guessing how much France demanded!

And so it was that King Rama 3 was called the Father of Thai Commerce (am sure he did more than the above to deserve the title!).

It was really lovely hence, I thought, for a commemorative coin of the king to be given out to guests at Pink and Piya's wedding,  It served as a form of education for their local and foreign guests (turns out that not all the locals know about this piece of history), and was all the more fitting as the couple come from financial backgrounds. I thought that shows the immense pride my friends have of their country, and am greatly touched by this gesture.

My Adventure

I must say I am very proud of myself yesterday as I did something I didn´t think I could do all by myself, but I did it! I took a complex journey from one part of Bangkok to another all the way on my own!

I was all the more proud of myself as I could have opted for the easy way out but I didn´t. I was supposed to meet my uncle at Khao San, which was across the Chao Praya River from where I was staying. I could have taken the cab, which would have cost me around 200 baht, and which would have been quite quite boring. So I chose to take  public transport via the Chao Praya River instead. That meant taking the shuttle boat from where I was and transferring to a public boat on the yellow line. It sounded easy, the fact that everything can be summarised in one sentence, but it certainly wasn´t, at least to me. I did all these with some butterflies in my stomach as it sounded a real complicated route, what with all the different coloured lines via a mode of transport that I was not familiar with, pulling a luggage around and battling luggage of an emotional form too! But strangely, I was feeling confident that day,  so different from my very first day of misadventures and decided to give it a go. I also knew that if I screwed it up, I could take it in my stride as I was the one who chose this harder path.

It was a wonderful one-hour long adventure, along a river that sustains Thais for many generations. There was even a local guide (a very well-groomed one) on board the boat explaining the major tourist spots:

Though he was unintelligible (the bulky, trudging noises made by the boat drowned out his voice), his presence and muffled speech was comforting and reassuring.

There were numerous stops at piers along the way and it was a really scenic journey:

And all these for 30 baht!

The sense of confidence during this journey, which is rare, derived from one major reason. The fact that I did lots of homework and ensured data and information I received is ´triangulated´. And so I decided from then on, that everytime I needed to get to a new place or do something new in a foreign land, I am going to seek information or talk to at least 2 people. 6 is the optimal number but this is not always possible. As I have an extremely weak working memory, that would require making copious notes from the different sources of data.

This experience gave me a lot of confidence in manourvring by myself in a strange land. I am capable of doing it, just that I needed a lot more time than others in seeking the required information and processing them. Hence, having my data triangulated meant new information could be repeated to me in different forms and though some information could be different and even contradictory, as long as I had them jotted down in my notebook, I could make the necessary inferences and deductions that are required.

This meant that as along as I know myself well, my learning style and how I remember things best, I can do it just like any others.

What great relief that realisation brings!

Blogging

It has been a while since I wrote an entry in my blog (this post is meant to precede the previous one but I just need to get the other one out first!). Mainly because I am trying to reconcile with the whole idea of blogging. I am not done with reconciling and I figure I never will, until I blog about the process of reconciling, I think, though I know that, in itself is ironic. 


This whole reconciling business came about as I realise I came to a point that I am no longer sure if I am blogging for myself or for my readers (that is, if there are many in the first place). Which goes back to the question, what is MY purpose of a blog in the first place? Do I want to share every nook and cranny of my life with everyone? Should I share them with everyone? Am I tainting any bit of my memory (though that sounds really extreme) when I share them? If I am reluctant to share many personal details in my blog in the first place, why then did I set it up? 


Have I really figured out the difference between my blog and my diary? There should be a difference of course. But to what extent and in which areas? I thought I had it figured it out. I think I did. So why am I going on this guilt trip in the first place? 


I think I may be entering into a whole realm of discussing about social media and the influence on personal life (which is too intellectual for me). Hence will stop here for now.  

Travel

Travelling indeed has a way of magnifying one's inadequacies and weak spots.


And it has done precisely that on the first day of my travel. I will not go too much in detail, since I have already done that in my diary, and since a good friend advises logically and rationally (but oh so hard) that I should just move on and let go. The latter though has never been my strength. 


Yet I still want to and look forward to travelling lots despite the stress, worries and anxieties I get -- mainly because I see it as part of molding myself. That because I know I have so many weak spots and inadequacies that normal people may not comprehend, all the more I want to tackle them head-on. Just that in the process, I tend to give myself lots of grief. 


How then do I expect myself to learn positively if I am so hard on myself? I know the importance of building a positive climate for my students during their learning process, yet I often fail to do that (and I suspect sometimes, deliberately) for myself.


And since no one forces me to do all these, shouldn't I be embracing every moment, no matter how bad it is (i can only hope every bad experience would not turn out too bad)?


So yes, I will learn to treat every encounter, every experience as part of the adventure. I may not enjoy (and certainly do not expect to enjoy every aspect of the adventure) but know that I will have the good sense and good spirits to take it in my stride.