Intriguing generational behaviour

 

Today's Straits Times ran an article about South Koreans being the world's top spender on personal luxury goods in 2022 (according to a Morgan Stanley study). Other than a real love for them the article also mentions flexing and the need to buy luxury goods just to be accepted and to fit into a social circle. It quoted an example of a mother having to change into a luxury car because the security guard at the school her child was attending didn't think she was a parent in her ordinary car and barred her from entering. There is also a well known Korean idiom that goes  "When my cousin buys land I get a stomachache". The envy habit is apparently quite prevalent in South Korea. 

I have watched the K drama "Mr. Sunshine" a historical romance set in late 19th century and early 1900s when Koreans were fighting for independence from Japan. A few facts I learnt from this drama help me understand a bit about Korean behaviour.

First of all I didn't know there was slavery and rigid class distinction in ancient Korea. The drama portrayed how impossible it is for cross marriages between social classes. Though deeply in love, the female protagonist  of noble descent was totally devastated when she found out her lover , a high achieving US military officer was born a Korean slave boy. Even her very principled and liberal grandfather told her he could not bear the sorrow and disgrace to the family if she would to marry a person of low birth. 

In another sub-plot the feared leader of a gang would still be incensed when reminded that his father was a butcher, deemed a dirty profession. Similarly a minister of non aristocratic origin would be thrown into a rage when disdained and ridiculed by colleagues of noble origin. Both had an in built sense of inferiority.

Such deep seated discrimination against people born of lower social class probably explains the bullying behaviour of chaebol families (if what contemporary K drama portrays is true). It also helps me appreciate more the movie "Parasite" which won the Oscar for best picture in its depiction of social inequality in South Korea.

Now it makes sense to me that academic achievement is the best chance for the next generation to climb the social ladder, hence the fierce competitive education environment in Korea. 

Coming back to the love for luxury goods, the Morgan Stanley analysts explained that the demand for luxury goods is driven by "increase in purchasing power as well as a desire to outwardly exhibit social standing".

Such obsession with class is intriguing. Maybe it is some form of generic memory passed down from generations as part of a collective consciousness.

A Small Audience

 It was raining torrentially when I went for my storytelling session at the branch library a few days ago. I told myself to mentally prepare for zero audience. Over the years (15 years to be exact ) audience has dwindled from over 30 children when I first started in 2008 to literally a handful ie. 5 or 6 when the session resumes after Covid.  

An article published in the ST entitled " Millennials loved libraries, but will their kids feel the same way?" stated that visitors to the National Library network in Singapore showed a drop from 26.7 million in 2019 to 11.5 million in 2021. However one can not ascribe the drop entirely to Covid disruption. The author mentioned other factors including loss of print reading, free e-books and increased channels for children entertainment like Disney and YouTube, making it a relative hassle to visit the library. It is then not surprising that our libraries have to be creative in staging fun activities to engage visitors. I was invited for a tour to the new regional library at Punggol recently. In collaboration with Smithsonian, the library created a space for children to tinkle with new ideas using various gadgets and crafts. The story telling room also has facilities for the story teller to project images on all 4 sides of the wall. 

Back to that rainy afternoon a couple of days ago. I stepped into the library inside the old  shopping mall and headed to the children section to see whether there were any kids who could be rounded up as my audience. There was none! In dismay I proceeded to the storytelling room to make preparation still. "Hello" a sweet little voice called out to me. It was the 6 year old girl, the sister of the 8 year old boy who told me he loved listening to my stories. I had then responded jokingly that he has to keep coming or I will have no audience. Then I saw the boy and the helper who brought them here. The helper told me the boy insisted on coming despite the rain. I told myself these 2 little fans of mine deserved a medal. Well he even helped me round up a few other fillers who were loitering around.

After my visit to the new library I had toyed with the idea of jumping ship to volunteer there instead. The new library is situated at a new housing estate with many young families, whilst the demographics at the old branch library I am with has changed hence attracting less visits from young readers. When sharing this idea with my son he had asked why I even needed a large audience and isn't there more engagement with a smaller audience. In retrospect it is true there is a lot of interaction with my 2 little fans at the present library . I think why he likes to come for my session is not only because I can tell the stories well but more of how I respond to his remarks and comments with gusto and delight. 

Yes it is natural to want bigger audience. People want more 'likes' in their facebook post and more followers in their blog. However, with a small audience there is more connection to each individual,  like the 5 children that attended my story telling session that afternoon. As I told my story, I watched how their little faces emote with sadness, wonder and relief. I marveled at the boy's imaginative guesses of how the story will develop and shared subtly the moral of the story. We engaged joyfully.

It was indeed a heartwarming rainy afternoon.

Size down childhood fears

 

Continuing my "down the memory lane" trip in KL which I described in my last blog, I have to narrate my visit to the Chan She Shu Yuen Clan Ancestral Hall. It was a trip I need to take to address my childhood fears when passing by this temple. About fifty more years ago before modification works, the statue of 2 young doormen guard the front of the temple. They appeared really spooky in the eyes of a small child dressed in 'eerie" garbs, quite like those paper servants which the taoist burn for the dead. This was especially so at night. My heart would beat faster and I would try to avoid looking at the temple when the taxi I was in passed by it in the evening. Perhaps it was after hearing rumours about a rickshaw driver dropping 2 young men at the temple and later discovered that the dollar notes were actually hell money. 

Well I thought it was time for my adult self to see what these guards really look like. To my delight the very temple that I dreaded is now a tourist attraction and is actually an ancestral home cum temple for a Chinese clan with many famous ancestors. To my disappointment however there ain't any scary statues guarding the front of the temple. Also the shocking green façade which I once found gaudy is now replaced with a greyish green front.  I couldn't have imagined things could I? 

Indeed the temple holds loads of history and artwork almost like a boutique museum. Symbolically this once deemed spooky eerie temple is to my adult self a remarkable historical treasure. As if to size down my childhood fears, 2 paper man servants (about 18 inch tall) stand on each side of the altar in the inner hall of the temple.

I still dare not look at them intently but I know their function is to serve.

Memories

 

My dreams (ie. those I remember) often have my old KL home as the background. Even if the dream is very literal, meaning a mere presentation of situation or feelings that occur at day time, the stage of the dream is almost certainly that of my old KL home.

Last week the nostalgia and the good street food beckoned and I found myself wandering the streets of KL visiting the streets where my old home, my father's shop and my alma mater were located.

Various thoughts and fantasy swirled in my mind. In no particular order here are some of them:

- If I had a huge windfall (ie. become a tycoon) I would buy up the whole row of flats, one of which I once lived. I would turn this urban slum into a nice residential estate. Actually I would have to be a well connected billionaire to buy up the whole street for the whole neighbourhood has become a touristy food street. Alternatively, in a fit of madness I can just rent or buy the flat where I used to live and renovate it extensively to be the home which I longed for as a child. It would be like a retro KL flat in the 60s where a middle income happy family once stayed. You see my old home was never like that. It was really like a home factory where the tailors worked and it was never a happy family because my parents fought constantly. So if I have too much money to spare I would rectify the chaos in my childhood and restore the peace and introduce some semblance of a happy home which I longed for half a century ago.

-My old alma mater is BBGS (Bukit Bintang Girls' School). It was situated where the upmarket shopping centre Pavilion now stands. I checked the google map. I paced the Pavilion. I tried to figure which part of Pavilion exactly was where my classroom was, the classroom during my last year in the school before moving to Singapore. "This must be where the classroom was, this shop must be where the tuckshop was where we ran fastest to reach at the sound of the bell for recess". "Where would the primary school be?" My mind was filled with such preoccupation when passing through Pavilion which was just across the hotel I stayed. During morning breakfast at the hotel, a plate of steamed chickpeas was displayed at the salad corner. I took a few spoonfuls of it on a plate, stared at it and travelled across the years back to the Indian kachang putih man with 6 fingers and his makeshift stall just outside the school. I loved his steamed chickpeas! Bless this guy for he lightened up many of our days.

"And if even only one good memory remains with us in our hearts, that alone may serve some day for our salvation.”  -Dostoevsky in Brothers Karamazov

Impactful message from Shtisel

 

This blog entry must be read with my previous blog. The last episode of season 2 of Shtisel is to me very impactful and delivers a powerful universal message. 

So in the story, the artist son of the Orthodox Jewish family, Akiva, painted a picture of a young mother carrying a baby. The painting was a success and the gallery owner arranged a TV interview prior to his exhibition. When asked on air, Akiva said it was from memory of his deceased mother. Back home his father in a rage hit him for disgracing the family in exhibiting his mother in public. This was because the lady in the painting did not cover her hair totally as was expected of married Orthodox Jewish women. Akiva was flabbergasted because the lady in the painting was not a portrait of his mother at all but just his expression of her. Akiva refused to abide by his father's instruction to withdraw the painting from the exhibition.

Perhaps like most other viewers, I was angry with the father for his unreasonableness. However the father related an incident when Akiva's mother cried throughout the night when she discovered she accidentally left a bit of her hair uncovered when attending a family function. The father's love and respect for his wife was touching and heart wrenching.

The father then bought the painting from the gallery at a high price after selling the reserved plot of land where he would be laid next to his wife. At home he held a candle deliberating whether to burn the painting. After much agony he used some paint to cover the bit of hair of the lady in the painting instead.

I will always keep this scene in my memory. Hopefully it will remind me to be more understanding in my dealings with people and not to judge so easily. The way someone thinks and behaves is shaped and conditioned by so many factors, be it in the upbringing, education and past experiences. I must also remember it is hard to rewire a person's character and world view. A valuable lesson learnt from Akiva's father is his willingness to strike a compromise taking into consideration his son's feelings.

"Before you judge someone, walk a mile in his shoes"- Eminem

Live for Yourself?

 

I am now watching a popular Israeli TV drama 'Shtisel'. It centers around an ultra orthodox Jewish family and revolves around each individual member's struggle to conform to rigid religious and cultural norms. It has universal themes about loss, love, the dilemma between individual freedom and adherence to tradition; and personal growth versus pro family priorities.

In one episode the grandson brought a dog to the patriarch's house. He was kicked out of school for rescuing a puppy and bringing it to school. I did a google search which says many orthodox Jews frown upon keeping dogs as pets as they are deemed to be unclean. It also says that their culture views keeping dogs as a distraction from having more children (though this needs some fact checking).

Meanwhile there is breaking news about China's population falling for the first time since 1961. Another report shows East Asia's worrying low fertility rate, South Korea 1.1, Japan 1.4 and China 1.7 (Singapore 1.2). 

Reflecting on the pro family emphasis and misogynistic tendencies in the Jewish Orthodox culture or even in other religious tribes that encourage early marriage and big families, I begin to think that these cultures may be quite far sighted or visionary in that they could foresee the secular and liberal forces that threaten human procreation.

However, the dilemma and agony portrayed by some characters in the Shtisel story reminds me that individual growth and freedom is also paramount for personal fulfilment and happiness. Sometimes I relate to their experience when I feel weary of all responsibilities and dream of living alone in a faraway place, spending time being myself or trying to discover myself. Yet I cannot deny I also derive joy from being part of a family or community.

Like in everything, I guess a balance needs to be struck between individuality and community. I see no happy ending to a society that embraces a 'Live for yourself' attitude, neither is there one for a society that lives by rigid laws and practices that stifles the 'self'.

When they were ALIVE

 

A week ago the internet was rife with the fake news that Chow Yuen Fatt has passed away. When I heard it from my sister I felt rather sad. CYF is around my age. When Hong Kong TV drama was the family entertainment in the late 70s and 80s CYF starred in many of the popular TV serials and became a household name. His absence if true felt like a void, a passing of an era which I belong. Thankfully it was fake news.

However a few days ago when my husband said Sim Mong Hoo passed away, I rebuked him for not verifying before breaking such news. Unfortunately it turned out to be true. SMH was also around my age and was someone whom baby boomers in Singapore looked up to as someone who persistently and ardently pursued his dreams and achieved his goals. We admire him because he did not achieve success through the charted or silo path that most Singaporeans aimed for ie. excellent academic performance or government scholarship to launch into a successful career.

In remembrance of him, CNA ran a short story of his career trajectory. One scene that struck me was when he introduced his latest device/product to Heng Swee Kiat. He was so alive! so full of enthusiasm. Reading more about him I became convinced that he led a very full life.

Thinking about the fake and true passing of two well known people my age and reflecting on how these 2 characters lived well ie. lived the life they were meant to be, I began to mull over how I want to live my life.

Last Friday I had the occasion to be reminded of moments when I really felt joyful. I told a story about "The Little Troll" to children at the library. I had told this story some 20 years ago to an entranced audience of more than 20 children. It was an experience I would never forget. I was to experience that magic moment again last Friday. The children were thrilled and ALIVE. 

So WAS I.