Uncontrolled spontaneity

The Notting Hill Street Carnival is an annual event in London and is known as the biggest street carnival in Europe. It is a celebration by the African/Caribbean community of their vibrant culture and traditions. The event lasts for 2 full days with closure of several roads in the borough and where colourful parades roll down the streets and dance parties dotting every road junction and corner last through the nights. Caribbean food stands also line some of the streets. The crowd from local and tourists can be quite unmanageable such that many shops temporarily block their shopfront with timber boards leaving a small window to serve customers. This however lend colour to the festival as many artists display their creativity splashing colours and drawings on them.

I was lucky to be in London last weekend and braved the crowd to join in the fun. There were stalls that sold party horns and whistles and parents bought them for the kids. So there was an ongoing din because the little trumpets were really loud. I remarked to my husband that any whistle blowing by the police would surely be lost in the ongoing whistle sound everywhere.

As part of a crowd control strategy the train operator closed the few train stations closest to the scene. Once the first parade passed the street where we stood to watch, we made our long walk to other train stations that were opened. The shops further away from the seat of action were opened . I went into a convenient store. Not long after a young dark skinned man came running in to announce to the shopkeepers that the restaurant chefs were bringing their cooking into the streets, presumably the first time this had happened. They talked excitedly about the fun descending on the streets.

We walked on and close to Baywater train station, we came across a few Chinese restaurants. Hungry and tired we went inside one of them which had displayed delicious looking roasts at the shop window. A conversation was going on amongst the waiters.  “cao si ren” they said in Cantonese referring to the din in the neighbourhood ( meaning the noise is killing ). Inside were mainly Chinese families having their meals. From discreet eavesdropping I gathered that the middle aged couple and a young man at the next table are Singaporeans with their son who is studying there. Coming in from the streets where groups of youngsters were screaming, laughing and talking at the top of their voices, the great contrast in atmosphere inside seemed to hit me in the face especially when the couple served the son some food urging him to have more.

In the news the next day a man was stabbed at the carnival and more than 300 people arrested for various crimes including possession of arms. Apparently this was a record breaking year for arrests at the annual carnival. The mayor of London was concerned and had raised again a previous suggestion to move the carnival to Hyde Park which had met with much resistance.

I think about Singapore, how this would never have been allowed. Our street parties are organised by government affiliated organisations. It would have been unheard of to close such a big area for 2 full days including the few crucial train stations. Even the whistles would not have been allowed for sale and for use.

Yes that is why you need to go to London to see the splash, the spontaneity, the fun, the madness (even if it means having your light coloured jacket spoilt by paints when you ventured too near the participants’ painted bodies); and then fly back home where there is order and controlled sanity. You would have missed something if you didn’t experience it though.

The Trumpeter

I go to a small neighbourhood saloon that occupies half a shop space to have my hair permed twice a year because the hairdresser listens to my requests and does not overrule me with the so-called professional suggestions like most others do. It is a small set up which depends on loyal customers to survive. For almost every visit (even though it is only twice a year) I would meet this aunty who was there for a wash and blow dry. From her conversation with the hairdresser I deduce her family owns a retail business and her children are very successful in their own field. Every conversation that I eves dropped was inadvertently a showing off of family wealth and status. On my last visit however her trumpet blowing attained another new decibel.

It started with her mundane suggestion to the hairdresser to purchase a unit at Tembusu which is condominium development in our area. She said it would be so convenient for the hairdresser to live close to where she works. The hairdresser just muttered 好好. Our trumpeter than announced that she has bought a unit for investment and for renting out. (Yawn - basic boasting, nothing exciting, I thought to myself)

The subject then drifted to citizenship when the hairdresser said she has acquired Singapore citizenship after many years of waiting. She said it was so difficult to get. Our aunty then argued saying it wasn't that difficult and that her son-in-law almost rejected the offer to be a Spore citizen. Son-in-law is a foreign talent and works in a bank. She beamed when both the hairdresser and her assistant declared it was obviously easy for him since he is so highly qualified. (Gosh- I can't read my book when this irritating woman is around)

Then, the hairdresser talked about PM and Goh Chok Tong's walkabout at the hawker centre in our neighbourhood. Apparently the hairdresser shook hands with them. She said that it brought her luck and she touched 4D that very day. She declared that shaking hands with politicians is very 旺 (brings luck). At this point, I put down my book and listened intently. Our aunty didn't fail us. She chided the hair dresser for not taking a selfie. She described how another daughter of hers took a picture when LKY presented her the door key (presumably for a Pinnacle flat). The picture was blown up, framed and displayed in the flat. Since then her son-in-law's business has blossomed and expanded. 真的很旺, 真的很旺, she exclaimed.

Sometimes I wonder whether talent in trumpet blowing is acquired or inborn as it seems to come so naturally with some people. As for me, the only thrill is when I have the opportunity to show off to people who have either looked down on me or who are proud and arrogant. I don't show off to just anyone, if I do I would have refuted both my hairdresser and the aunty's nonsense of being 旺 when you touch a politician. I would have declared Ng Eng Hen deliberately touched me and I have never been blessed with 旺ness. (of course I wouldn't tell them he was a breast surgeon before he entered politics!)

Money most well spent

In a fit of madness way back December 2014 I paid up for a 2-night stay-cation package at Swissotel just to watch the SG50 celebration at the padang from the comfort of a hotel room. The booking was done in a spur of the moment without consulting my family as I envisaged lots of discouragement over the cost. I later received comments on how  the same money could have been put to better use. Over the next few months I assuaged my guilt of being a spendthrift by justifying how I was otherwise a very very frugal person (eg. haven't bought a single luxury bag all my life, etc etc).

The package allowed for an additional 7 guests in the room for the fireworks display but not to stay overnight. So I had to carefully select my guests one week before. Top on the list was my mother-in-law and then I had to decide between my other in laws, family friends, children's friends etc. As more people wanted to join in I felt less guilty and more excited.

The first thought that hit you when you entered the room and looked out was how close the padang appeared from the balcony. All the guests' first exclamation was the panoramic view it offered. As we checked in the day before National Day we could even enjoy the short firework preview in the evening and the black knight aerial display in the afternoon, leaving amazing trails in the skies.

Gosh I had never felt so excited and happy for a long long time. In the morning they were testing the systems. Later I could literally hear the commandments over the sound system bringing in the contingents. Very often the instructions made me chuckle. Then I looked down and saw the floats and tanks rolling in to take their position. Later in the afternoon the spectators were fast filing in.

When the celebration started we turned the TV loud and could witness from afar what was shown on TV, like the arrival of the president etc. When the celebration started and was in full swing, me, the usually ungrateful and disloyal citizen, was unabashedly singing the Singapore songs with my guests and waving the small Spore flags. From the balcony I saw thousands and thousands of people in every inch and pocket of the river front and bayfront area. I looked up at the helicopters bearing the huge Spore flag and the formations formed by the roaring fighter jets. I looked down and I saw the spectators, waves of red and white at the padang. I casted my eyes a little afar and all the buildings were blinking in jubilation. After one out of many 360 degree scans I asked quietly what I had done to deserve all these.

Then the fireworks came on and the skies were alive with National Fervour awashed with the feeling of hope and happiness.

If decades ago I was the sad and scared child returning to the strange Singapore (after being 10 years away), I was a very happy, excited and contented child watching the fireworks and parade some 45 years later.

Money much much more than well spent!!!

Earth in the Universe

Last Sunday's papers carries an article about a planet which can be described as planet Earth's twin, 1400 light years away. This gives hopes of life elsewhere in the vast universe. It is really mind blogging to think of our solar system as just one of billions of galaxies, and earth as just one of trillions of planets in the universe.

Turn a few pages and there is another headline news about Turkey joining the war against ISIS. In the mind some huge distortions seems to be happening, so much strife over a microscopic speck in the infinite universe.

 In a space ship that orbits the Earth 16 times a day, astronauts see 16 sunrises and sunsets each day. One astronaut remarks how it changes his view:
"The view that we all have a responsibility to leave this place a little better than we found it and that we are one human family riding through the Universe together on Spaceship Earth"
Astronauts are often struck by the smallness of the earth in space and the roundness of the Earth. It stirs them to think of World citizenship rather than National citizenship.

In a similar sense our microscopic obsession with our personal life also seems to be distorted in the great scheme of things. Our obsession with our body, our image and our list of social and material needs; as well as our expectation of what our family members need to possess or do to make our lives complete make us appear like wriggling microbes visible only through a microscope.

One astronaut described his experience as acquiring the "ultimate perspective". Another astronaut Ron Garan remarked, “You really get hit in the gut with this sobering contradiction between the beauty of our planet on one hand and the unfortunate realities of life on our beautiful planet for a significant portion of its inhabitants”. He went on to say, "There's a propensity to lose things in space, because of weightlessness. But it gives you a freedom that you really don't have on the Earth.....that freedom that you get from living in a three-dimensional world.”

So there is this perpetual tussle in life,  the gravitational pull of perceived reality that makes everyday routine so urgent and pivotal versus the occasional feeling of connectedness to the universe which seems so numinous. Then again it may not really be a tussle but more like an acceptance to live within both domain, such that when the going gets tough one just needs to pause and gaze at the stars in the vast skies, the universe, to gain perspective.

Yet another way to live

"There are so many ways to live"

I often find myself making this silent remark whenever I travel outside Singapore. This is especially so when I travel to a less developed country, a quieter city or to a land with a vastly different culture. Thus I told myself again whilst in a taxi horning its way through the labyrinth of Hanoi's old quarters and dodging surges of motorbikes from all directions, whilst walking with utmost care not to kick any low plastic stools along the pavements where the Vietnamese sit down for a 'pho' supper at roadside stalls and whilst being tossed about as if in stormy seas when lying in a sleeper train bound for Sapa. I would also make it a point to observe the faces of the people, trying to detect expressions if any of frustrations or content. Most times however the faces will show neither and just seem to say "It's all in a day's work. Today is like any other day".

One has to be very careful when crossing the streets in Hanoi as traffic rules are never observed. The motorbikes can suddenly appear from nowhere. The trick we have been told is to just cross at a steady pace when the traffic seems lighter and the motorists will avoid you. If you panic and suddenly quicken your steps you will confuse the motorists. So Hanoi teaches you literally to go with the flow. In the absence of rules and good public transport the only mode is the motorbike for women and teenagers alike and mindfulness is the name of the game.

From my short engagement with the tour guide who brought us down the country roads amongst rice terraces to visit a Hmong household I realized not everyone on this earth is so focused on timing. I told him at the start of the tour and repeated it along the way that I preferred to be back at the hotel by 4 in the afternoon. I needed time to refresh and have a quick bite before the transport picked us up at 6 pm for the airport. This young chap found it queer that I did not pause but kept walking when he was talking. At one point he requested that we paused for ten minutes in the middle of nowhere so that he could shared some information. Honestly I was puzzled why we could not talk as we walk; was that being rude and inattentive? Perhaps, he on his part might have been puzzled why I was so hung up about getting back strictly by a certain time. Needless to say he sent us back to our hotel half an hour later than we requested. Strange, many other people would have been more than glad to knock off earlier.

Many people would have been put off if their masseuses chatted amongst themselves disturbing the quiet that goes well with a massage. I was initially a bit annoyed by the light chatter when I went for a body massage. However the light banter punctuated by an occasional giggle soon lent a melodious spell that lulled the listener to drift into dreamland, a land where rules and benchmarks are rendered redundant.

Yet, another way to live.

Junior College

As expected no one really knows me. I don't know why I agreed to join a small group of 3 to the junior college 1973 cohort having a 60th Birthday bash. I told my friend I'll tag along and in its literal sense.

I thought I had better recall some names by going through the year book. After flipping through the pages with photos of various club activities, school events, prize winners, I really began to feel sad. It was indeed strange that after 40 years I was kind of reliving the teenage angst. I recalled those days when I was torn between trying to blend in and avoid looking awkward on the one hand and being blighted with green eyed envy of other youngsters who seemed to move with such ease and seemed as sure as themselves as the red blazers they wore against the grey uniform. I remembered feeling very alone in junior college and once wrote in my diary I was like the weeping willows that hanged over the school pond.

People came up to me "Yes, yes, I remember your face". "Yes, yes, I recognise you straight away, what's your name?" "Hey, isn't that XXX?" "Isn't that YYY".

Of course I didn't cared a damn about XXX and YYY now. Neither did I feel awkward even though my lip muscles felt a bit stiff from prolonged smiling throughout the evening. Honestly, catching up on lost years with people whom one are never close with doesn't really excite except for the wonder of how life offers diverse trajectories.

We recalled that it was the best college then, in fact the only one. We had the best teachers. We did modern history that no other pre-U school offered ( which actually stirred my lifelong interest in modern Chinese history and the Russian revolution). We also did D.H.Lawrence and Great Gatsby for literature,quite a forerunner in those days. Great stuff I now recall. I now remember learning a lot from the brilliant students especially during General Paper discussions. Yet the teenage angst overshadowed my memories of college life all these years, an example of how feelings always stays in the mind.

In one of his book, Cotzee once said "We have been given a chance to live and we have accepted that chance. It is a great thing to live. It is the greatest thing of all".

If at 17 I have the wisdom of age, I would have said "We have been given a chance to school here and we have accepted that chance. It is a great thing to school here. It is the greatest thing of all".

Always Lacking

"Consciousness is always predisposed to find something lacking because lack is intrinsic to the very meaning of every situation for any particular consciousness. This is why, according to existentialist philosophers, a consciousness, a person, can never be completely satisfied. A person will always interpret  a situation in terms of what it lack for him. If he is cooking, the meal lacks being cooked. If he is halfway through a movie, the movie lacks an ending so far. If the movie is poor and he does not care about the ending then his situation is lacking interest.  If he is tired he lacks sleeps (tiredness is lack of sleep). If he has just woken up and is ready for the day he lacks the things he hope to achieve that day and so on and so on.

In general a person always lacks the futures toward which is constantly heading, the future which gives meaning to his present actions and beyond which he hopes in vain to be fulfilled and at one with himself. Ever onward, the endless march of time, towards a future that is presently lacking, an absent future that will fall into past as soon as it is reached, a past with its own absent future. It seems that the endless march of time constantly cheats us of what we are, prevents us from becoming one with ourselves, but really, what we are is this endless march forward in time, creatures that can never become one with themselves.


-from How to be an Existentialist by Gary Cox


So true, so true.

We are always living in the past or in the future, never in the moment. Our concept of self is always in the context of time; past self, past pain, past happiness projecting into a want for future happiness, a future self. There is very little of the self living for the sake of "now" and living with "now".

Also there is always the feeling of either too little time to do so much (lack of time) or too much time to make it of value (lack of fulfillment). No wonder it is so hard to be happy because we are constantly saddled with the burden "to achieve a future state of total completion in which we no longer lack anything".

All boils down to "tanha" (Pali for craving) don't you think?