Don't Make a Boogeyman out of the Foreigners !!

       I watch with profound interests on the news and articles that were written in local print media about the saga of Serangoon Gardens estate and how the residents had petition to the government against the proposal to build a temporary foreign dormitory from an abandoned school building. For those who recall the debacle some weeks ago, you should recollect the ruckus that was caused over the seemingly apolitical decision. For those, who like me may only have the opportunity to catch up with the news and the happenings of the world around us only at the end of each week, Serangoon Gardens is a cosy little landed property neighbourhood, tucked away in a north east corner of the island with a population of a few thousand residents of which mostly consists of Caucasian expatriate families and middle-class Singaporeans.

        When the government announced that they would convert an abandoned school building into a dormitory for foreign workers, all hell broke loose. Out came the alarm bells, shrill and insistent and panic buttons. Even the economic downturn and property meltdown that is occurring in states and the ripple effects that it have in our world market seems to have little interest to them.

         A petition organized by the residents of the estate went around and a few thousand signatures were collected in protest against the proposed building. Congestion! Crime! Noise! Dirty! They came from all corners of the neighbourhood, up in arms, sleeves over and giving their MP Lim Hwee Haw a barrage of excuses and reasons, why this plan should be shelved.

        Opinions were flying fast and furiously in the newspaper, even making headline news. I watched in amazement how the government listened, responded and then go ahead with the plan anyway. Come one, I would think that the authorities should be given more credit in thinking out all the scenarios and anticipating such incident before approving the plan. However I have to give the authorities credit for how deftly they handled everything, even the most ludicrous and offensive criticisms were met by a patient, almost placating response that was near to conciliatory.

My opinion.... Singaporeans are getting too pampered and the MPs have been too accommodating in responding and acceding to all our complaints. We are now becoming a 'NATION OF WHINERS". I was sharing this opinion with a friend of mine but he was telling me to think about how I would feel if I am in the shoes of the Serangoon Gardens' residents. I considered how I would respond if my nice, quiet suburban housing estate were to suddenly be made to accommodate a few thousands foreigners. Flashes of seeing the foreigners camping out on my neighbourhood playgrounds, maybe small groups of them squatting on the grass in the small park, meeting up and drinking at the void decks of the estate any several others  dining out at my favourite kopitiam. What will I see? 

  The answer to the question is "I see dark foreign people everywhere." Unfortunately that is basically all that the residents of Serangoon Gardens see. I am using the word "dark" facetiously, as I am sarcastically making fun of the xenophobia behaviours that Singaporeans had openly displayed online, on the national newspaper and in public. If we think that Singaporeans are more tolerant towards people of other races and we have gone beyond looking at creed and status, think again. I read in disgust at the prejudice that was blatantly displayed in the past month on online forums over at the Internet by Singaporeans and their suggestions on the possible solutions to the situation as Serangoon Gardens Estate. 

Caged up the Dormitory

Like how we would treat our pet animals that had misbehaved or how we would incarcerate a Criminals, a writer had suggested building a fence around the proposed dormitory so that the inhabitants of the dormitory would not be able to wander into the general population or specifically Serangoon Gardens estate. As quoted "If you can't get rid of them, put them in a cage. That way, every one feels safer" 

One Neighbourhood ... Two Towns 

Another had even suggested that the proposed dormitory be build far away from the general population so that it limit the risk of the foreigners from interacting with the local residents. To cater to their needs infrastructure and facilities like shops and food outlets be built thus making it a "town within a town" concept. Believe me when the writer was suggesting that in his posting, the interest of the foreigners that we employ to develop our nation was never a consideration. The proposal is what the Americans did during their less enlightened period when they segregate the Native American into "settlements" so as to enable them to be policed and monitored. 

Restricting  movement - Birth of Ghettos 

Of all the ludicrous suggestions that  I have read is from another resident who demanded that the Police imposed limits as to where the foreign workers should be allowed to walks and which places they could patronise all in the interests of the "safety" of the elderly and children of Serangoon Gardens. I am surprised that he did not go to the extend into suggesting that the foreign workers wore the Star of David arm band similar to those that the Nazis forced the Jews to wear in Nazi Germany.

The fear of the foreign workers was overwhelming and many Singaporeans are writing and expressing their views in the National Paper with sentiments mirroring that of the old apartheid. Some are clearly racist and exclusionist sentiments. What saddens me was the lack of any reply to rebut the hateful and skewed mentality and thinking. Personal anecdotes were flying everywhere each day about someone's car being smashed and its cashcard stolen; someone's domestic helper running away with foreign workers; urine and abandoned beer bottles at the void decks and streets. Here I would like to point out that if Singaporeans think that the foreigners are a bunch of anti-social behaved people, then Singaporeans themselves are guilty of the worst sins. For many years lifts were the convenient place of many residents to urinate and despite the reminders and national campaigns, the problems remains unabated. 

Other Bright Ideas...... the lists did not end there 

The lists of ideas from Singaporeans and like minded people did not end there. Put them in a floating platform or perhaps a floating island. I supposed the success of the marina floating platform has caught the interest of many. Build separate roads for them and provide them with their own shops so that they don't have to mingle with the rest of us. 

Hey why stop that, Singaporeans? Why not we suggest that underground is dig and build them some tunnels to stay in. They could be the burrowing society in Singapore. Or in the interest of cost, extend the MRT tunnel or the KPE underground tunnel. Wait.. we just announced  the construction of the Marina Central expressway, maybe we can factored that in. Least of all these foreigners staying under ground, we do not have to look at them not until they need to come up for fresh air or a feel or sunlight and to do all the dirty work that we 'SINGAPOREANS' shy away and look at with askance. 

Are we listening to ourselves.....? Do we realise the kind of remarks that we are making. These are People we are talking about. Decent human beings who travelled thousands of miles away from their homeland and family  to a foreign country to earn a decent living just much like 'ALL OUR ANCESTORS' (emphasis intended) use to. Some of us don't even want to treat our own pets  the way we are thinking of treating this people. I know of a friend who spent almost $ 800 every month on her which includes grooming, exercises, massage and pedicure. (I wanna to say manicure, but am not sure which is which). Is this what it means for Singapore to be a 'First World Nation' that is we have to treat other differently and like lepers. 

I am sorry, but some of the suggestion that I came across on online forums and print media make me nauseous. If I know half of the writer, I have half the mind to grab your head and give you a tight slap. Most probably that will shook some sense of whatever little brain you have up there. 

Fear of the Unknown, The  'White Man', 'The Dark Man' and the 'Yellow Man'

Singaporeans fear the Dark Man (foreigners from the Mid-Asia) a lot more than the White Man, and it has more to do with the social class rather than colour. Foreigners from India and Bangladesh  make out the majority of foreign workers in Singapore and are more apparent because of their visibility in the nation's building project. They are the back bone of Singapore's infrastructure progress, shedding sweat  at the construction site braving height in transforming Singapore's landscape and under the hot sun paving the road in Singapore's ever changing transportation network or collecting rubbish being thrown by the residents and cleaning and sweeping the neighborhood, giving Singapore the 'clean green country' label that it is known for. Because of their presence, doing the mediocre job that Singaporean's themselves are willing to do we see the Dark Man everywhere. Because of what they do, Singaporeans see them in the most unflattering ways: living in squalor, living in close quarters like animals in a barn, they have no where to go to do their "leisure" activities but in the small confines of the space they are allowed to exist in. And so they are exposed like puppets on a stage. We can see them, and so we can point at them and make judgments about them.

The Other Spectrum of Life...............

The 'White Man' lives among us too. He works among us, he eats among us, he partakes in his leisure among us. He is free to go anywhere, he does not have to live among other White Men in Little Europe or Little America or in dormitories specially designed for them. We don't point because we think he is like us and we are like him. Nothing special. It doesn't help that in our collectively short memories, we remember the White Men being our authority figures, we remember how they strutted about in their white linen shirts in their large bungalows and dining in candlelight at the most expensive and exclusive establishments. We do not impose the same standards that we imposed on the 'Dark+ Man' as in our mind, they are incapable of any anti-social behaviours. They are the perfect specimen of men. 

Because of the nobility of that class, we have always associated the White Man with the upper class, but we forget that the Yellow Man and the Black  Man were the man in the street, the rickshaw pullers, the street hawkers, the construction workers. Today we all think we are White because we live almost like the middle class postcolonial and we all ASPIRE to BE that middle class postcolonial.

I think Singaporeans are a lot more racist 40 years after the "race riots" of our post-Independent years than we ever were before. We don't talk about it because we aren't allowed to. The only people who need educating are Singaporeans, not the Persons of Other Nationalities who come here to work on our construction sites. I won't say that I am completely free of prejudice, being a middle class SIngaporean myself, but at least when i have a prejudiced thought, I stop to think about it before I speak. And it is truly ironic that only when people have to co-exist side by side with what they find foreign, and in large numbers, that their prejudices rise to the fore. Xenophobia is nothing but a defensive response to perceived danger borne out of prejudiced fear. But again, it's not a matter of colour, but class. 

I failed to understand Singaporean's fear and perception that the foreigner's "The Dark Man' are responsible for all the ills of society, for all the crimes and criminal acts, for all the socially undersirable behaviour and for all the anti-social acts. I have not seen any statistics or figures to support the notion. I supposed it is the inherent perception in us, either by the influence of the media who seems to sensationalized  any news of foreigners being involved in crimes or the perceived beliefs that only they are capable of committing such acts. 

Wake Up Singaporeans !! I think it is time that we should be expressing our gratitude and thanks to the 'Dark Man' for their pivotal road in nation building, building the skyscrapers that we enjoyed working in, the flats and houses that we comfortably stay and sleep in and the roads that we enjoyed riding on, instead of demonising and making a Boogeyman out of them. Singaporeans are capable and guilty of all the acts that we made the 'Dark Man' out and even more. In any situation there will be inconvenience. This is a fact of live, We are a small nation with limited living space. Apart from living skywards, the only other option is to go downwards. But mind you everyone of us will have that opportunity when it comes, just a matter of time when the lord calls of us. I would think that till now we should be able to appreciate our neighbours. I am okey with whining cause mind you all of us do just t o release the tension and stress but it is the bigots that I have problem please. Remember this old adage that my grandma use to say "If you have nothing better to say.. then keep quiet" 

The Battle in Life Unwavering, The Battle Against Time Unbarring

On September 28, Singapore's veteran opposition leader J.B Jeyaretnam, died after he succumbed to his long battle with his heart disease and after waging a long and lonely campaign for greater political freedom in Singapore.

The late Mr JB Jeyaretbam was attempting a fresh political comeback when he succumbed to heart failure. The 82-year-old British-trained lawyer and former MP is a nemesis to Singapore's PAP government and had made history after winning a Seat in the Anson constituency in 1981 thus ending Singapore's single party rule in parliament.

In 1984 he again held the Anson constituency with a greater margin. However he was soon back in court as well as in parliament, accused of misstating the Workers’ Party’s accounts. Found guilty of perjury in 1986, he was fined, served a month in jail, became ineligible to sit in parliament for five years and was disbarred from legal practice. Again, he took his appeal to the Privy Council, which in 1988 overturned his disbarment and ruled he was the victim of a “grievous injustice”. Singapore subsequently abolished the right of appeal to the Privy Council.

Even in appearance, MR JB Jeyaretnam seemed rather out of place in Singapore’s gleaming, ultra-modern urban landscape. In the early 1980s bankers and stockbrokers on their lunch breaks would shuffle in embarrassment past a courteous, dignified figure, vaguely reminiscent, in his muttonchop whiskers, of a Victorian statesman. Jeyaretnam, remembered by many Singaporeans for his old-school lambchop sideburns and a gravelly voice that thrilled audiences in court, parliament and street rallies.

Born Joshua Benjamin Jeyaretnam in 1926 during a family visit to what is now Sri Lanka, he was often a solitary voice in largely ethnic Chinese Singapore, a prosperous financial centre where protests are restricted and government critics complain of limited access to the media. Despite being driven to financial ruin by costly defamation suits and sidelined by younger opposition figures, Jeyaretnam was still plotting a return to parliament before he died when he launched the Reform Party in which he said "I haven't got many years left."

Throughout his political struggle, Mr Jeyaretnam was never successful in making a dent in the PAP’s power or scratched Singaporean's government efficient and clean image. Singaporeans in general are aware that those who maligned its leaders are likely to end up in court. MM Lee Kuan Yew argues that PAP ministers command respect because they are ready to be scrutinised, and that his libel actions were designed to defend the government’s reputation, not to silence the opposition.

Certainly Mr Jeyaretnam, most distinguished of that tiny band, was never silenced. MM Lee Kuan Yew may have been infinitely the greater statesman, but some would have judged Mr Jeyaretnam the bigger man for his unabated struggle in beinging about a change in Singapore's political landscape.

What would aptly describe Mr JB J was his never give up attitude and fighting all the way to his death to make his dream a realisation. Even during his darkest days, Mr JBJ as he is fondly known soldiered on. He helped support his cause by selling books on the sidewalks of Singapore, and managed to clear his debts to pave the way for a fresh stab at public office. Mr JBJ once said that he got his strength from somewhere else and that he refuse to conform to the world and its ideologies.

To Mr JBJ though his political views may augment well with the general population his tenacity should still be greatly admired. Though we may not share his beliefs and dreams, it is the drive and never give up attitude that sadly many of us, the younger generation of Singaporeans are lacking. His struggle will be long remembered and fondly admired from afar long after he is gone. May he find peace in the embrace of the almighty.

I feel like I'm an ordinary guy

They treat me strange, so tell me why.

I always try to do what's right.

That doesn't mean I don't feel fright.

I do feel fear. I do get scared.

That time was just because I cared.

I might get hurt or maybe die,

But I can't just sit idly by.

Why do they all say I'm so brave?

That situation simply was real grave.

I'm sure that others would do like me.

But not so folks would jump with glee.

Then shake my hand and slap my back,

And tell me that I have a knack

To be a hero and make them proud

And say a word to the grateful crowd.

For I believe that fear is strong.

But I cannot do what is wrong.

I simply just do what I can.

I'm not a hero, just a man.

So please do not treat me so kind.

It's something that still blows my mind.

Instead, be heroes one and all.

Let's teach our children to stand tall.

by: Don Bendell

Ode to the Man !!

16th September 08 marks MM Lee Kuan Yew's 85th birthday. I grew up at the edge of the precipice of Generation X era, where Singapore is seeing an economic revolution and modernisation at an unprecedented speed.

In school and throughout my adult life we grew up surrounded by the rapid changes and modernisation that never seems to have lose its steam. The drive down Raffles Place and Orchard Road reminds me a lot of many other modern cosmopolitan cities in other modern cities. But the best of any drive is down the Benjamin Sheares Bridge where you see the ever changing Singapore sky landscape.

I was together with my friend, from Malaysia who was here in Singapore under the government scholarship's exchange programme for his six months training when we we driving down ECP towards the city. His last visit in Singapore was almost 10 years ago when we were still very young then and unaware of the changes around us. As we drove up the Benjamin Sheares Bridge our conversation throughout the journey fell into a unceremonious silent as his eyes were transfixed out of the window into to the skyscrapers and the activities at the construction sites of the new Marina IR. As I looked at him, a sudden surge of pride fell on me as I saw how captivated he was and awed at the sight that he was witnessing. Kuala Lumpur, is no backward city herself and I have been to the Malaysian's capital on many occasions but I can see how vast a differences that exists between the two cities. As we passed through the city my friend finally broke his silence and spoke of how amazed he was with the development in Singapore. We began to exchange history notes and the achievements of the leaders of both nations.

MM Lee's contribution to Singapore is indisputable and it could be safely said that he was the right person at the right time to bring Singapore through the tumultuous period of Separation, Communist insurgents and Racial disunity. He was also the same person that see Singapore through the economic revolution from a industrial based economy to an innovation based economy. Many pundits and mongers out there would be quick to criticize his style of management as being an iron-fisted and throat wranglers but I would think that if it is not because of his decisiveness and seemingly unilateral decision, Singapore will never be where it is now.

MM Lee has made an unparalleled contribution to the development of Singapore. Indeed only a few leaders have had such a singular impact on their country's history as MM had. Under MM Lee's leadership Singapore became a stable and secure independent country moving itself from a state of extreme economic vulnerability to its current position of as the region's most vibrant and independent economy whose people enjoy standards of education, health and welfare among the highest in the world. However a significant quality of MMM Lee's leadership that not many other leaders could replicate or have ever been successful was his relentless and extraordinary success in eliminating corruption in the government.

The Generation Y, those born after 1976 may not be so receptive or aware of what MM Lee's contributions to our life are as they grew up in a relative stable environment and progression with the perception that progression is a normal cycle in a country's evolution. Without the history lessons in school they may not be aware of the sacrifices and challenges that MM Lee and his old vanguard of man of steel.

To MM Lee on his 85th Birthday, we wish you good health for many more years to come and a big thank you to you.

Teacher's Day . Remembering the deed.

Today is Teacher's Day !!!. To those special soul out there that has shaped my life and had painted me when I was just a piece of white cloth, a very big thank you from me from the bottom of my heart.

Teacher's Day in Singapore has always been celebrated with a concert put together and performed by the students followed by the showering of flowers and chocolates. Since then and now, the festivity of the day has changed nothing much when I was still in school back in the 80s except for the price of the gifts, the cost of the flowers and maybe the elaborateness of the show however the intent and the purpose remains unchanged.

What is so significant about Teacher's Day that we showered them with gifts and flowers? I doubt so that anyone of them actually had the least amount of expectation to receive any thing from their students. I doubt so that there is any manual or Standard Operating Procedure on what to do and expect during Teacher's Day when they were undergoing training. But still we g o all out during Teacher's Day to show our appreciation to them by giving out cards and flowers. I supposed it is the realisation of how special they are in our life.

There has been several teachers in my life that had really touched my life and shaped me to be what I am now. I remembered when I was in Secondary school, my form teacher was Mr Tan, a quiet bespectacled Chinese man who I have never seen loosed his temper before a feat I supposed considering how notorious we were back then. I was in Siglap Secondary School, a neighbourhood school tucked away in a quiet corner of Cheviot Hill before it moves to the current spanking new complex. Back then the school is sprawled over a large compound with the school block being a two storey building with some 20 classes on each floor.

I remembered that it was Maths lessons and how my friend and I hated the lessons. Our Maths teacher was late for class and we had taken the opportunity to make a gracious exit out of the school as per normal. Not wanting to walk out from the front door so as not to compromise our truancy attempt and school break, my friend and I, about 6 of us decided to make our exit from the rear window of the classroom. Though our classroom is on the second floor of the block, it was however facing the slope. We all decided to jump off from the window over to the slope and under the man made hole in the fencing that had been our usual escape route. As we walked away from the school, feeling jubilant over our victorious escape, our ecstasy was short lived when just a few meters away, stood Mr Tan standing quietly under a tree looking and waiting for us. When we all saw him, half of us wanted to run away whilst the other half of us stood rooted to the ground in pure shock. Mr Tan approached us and without saying much asked all of us to follow him back to school Through out the whole journey back to school, "Detention" "Punishment" "Scolding" kept floating across our mind. However to our surprise he brought us back to classroom, apologised to the Math teacher and told her that he had delayed us in an assignment and walked away. It really surprises me. Not a scolding from him, but instead he apologise for us for our mischievous act.

I must admit that I am no angel when I was in school. If I could remember correctly, I would think that I spent more time trying to play truant rather than studying. I remembered how we used to play hide and seek with Mr Azman my Discipline Master and our Chemistry teacher, a burly big man with hairy hands. I remembered how intimidated we all were whenever he walks around the school in his school beat with a cane on his right hand and a black detention book on the other. There were once where my friend and I had tried to 'hijack' the detention book from him but end up serving detention for a week when our act was caught.

Teachers play an important role in educating our next generation. Some even go beyond the call of duty and do more for their students. I salute them for their dedication. As the world becomes our classroom today, teachers have a more challenging task. Students today are far more exposed to the world, whether through cyberspace or travels. They are more questioning; so are their parents. However, the teacher’s role as a moral compass in guiding their students and imparting in them strong values should not be under-estimated. It is not just what the teachers teach in subject contents, but what they teach about life, and how they live it out by personal examples which will make the strongest impact on the impressionistic young minds. I learn a lot more from such teachers. I also know that teaching is not a bed of roses. But at the end of the day, I know that the only satisfaction that the teacher's derived is the knowledge that they have done their job well when we leave school and become graduates When your former students meet you years later and come up to pay their respects to you, you feel gratified.

To all my teachers, mentors and guidance of life, once again a very big thank you from me, without your patience and perseverance I doubt that I will be who I am now. Happy Teacher's Day to all of you.

Be thankful for all those in your life who have taken the time to share their gifts and knowledge.

I once had a teacher who taught me to read

and how to spell words that I someday would need.

How could she have known where that someday would lead

when she shared her gift with me?

I once had a teacher who taught me to sing.

A song in your heart is a wonderful thing.

I wonder if she knew how much joy that would bring

when she shared her gift with me?

I once had a teacher who taught me to draw.

She opened my eyes to the beauty I saw.

She taught me to see there is beauty in us all

when she shared her gift with me.

I once had a teacher who taught me to play

as part of a team - not always my way.

He taught me a lesson on sharing that day

when he shared his gift with me.

All of these teachers shared gifts that were free.

What I do with these lessons is all up to me.

If I share them with others how thankful they will be

that they shared their gifts with me.

Our Social Gracious ? A Test of our Society

How long has it been since we had the courtesy campaign launched in Singapore all in the effort to promote a more gracious society?

I remembered when I was still in primary school we used to have this kindness movement activities being held in school where there is this weird looking yellow bear that goes around giving out pencils. I was one of those curious ones amongst hundreds others that would actually made the effort to skip lunch or recess time to just have the opportunity to shake its hand. I have never really understood what the event is all about, all we cared was the opportunity to collect the pencils that were being handed out.

Fast forward more than 20 years, I got wiser and more aware of what is going on. I began to appreciate national campaigns but one of those campaigns that never failed to amuse me is the courtesy campaign.

How far are we towards achieving a gracious society from the many decades of courtesy campaigns? Year in and year out and many campaigns after have we become a more evolved society? My two cents worth is that we are still far far away from reaching the same standards of graciousness that our neighbors far north, the Thais have without having to spend millions in campaigns, posters and advertisement.

The Private Lavatory

I took a ride up the escalator to my friend's house during the festive visit in a newly upgraded block. The walk along the pavement was an enjoyable with rows of plants being planted along side the kerb and the beautifully lit gardens. Waiting at the elevator lobby, I pressed the call button and read the posters being displayed at the notice boards. As the elevator door opens a familiar smell hit my nose, the same smell that you would expect when you visit a coffeeshop or the old hawker stores public toilets. Right at the corner of the lift where the buttons panel were, a pool of urine stained the floor and the side of the lift walls. It really boils me !! Why can't this idiot hold their bladder and just do it at home instead of a public elevator. I wonder how would they feel if I were to urinate in front of their doorstep I am sure they will be perturbed by it. If they really have problem holding on to their bladder may I suggest bringing along a rubber band for them to tie their freaking "dick" with. Rubber band is free for god sake.

Morning Madness

I supposed one of the other reasons why I have given up on public transport was that I hate the experience of taking the MRTs during peak hours. I would rather be burden by the cost of fuel rather then having to endure the attitude of many Singaporeans whenever they are taking public trains. The last time I took the train was about a month ago when I had to attend a course at city. Thinking that going public may be a good idea vis-a-vis having to pay the never ending gantries along the expressway I decided to immerse myself with the experience of going public again. When I was at the platform waiting for the train several other commuters were already waiting looking anxiously. A lady with a baby troller was amongst many commuters waiting for the train. As the train arrives, everyone rushes in, into the train without having any regard to the lady. She had to wait for everyone to alight and enter before making her way in. I followed behind her noticing the disgusted look of many other commuters who apparently was unhappy having to make way for the trolley. For god sake, what is their problem? Cant they just shift their asshole and heavy feet a few inches to make way for her. I wouldn't want to even start commenting on the ever pretenders in the train who had the opportunity to sit. There will be those who will close their eyes in an apparent attempt to sleep but would miraculously be awake when their stop approached. They will be another group who would shifts their eyes all over the place apparently reading every posters and notices that their eyes could set on. In that particular moment even the instructions on how to stop the train during emergency seems like an interesting reading materials. Then there would be those would just pretend to not see anything and acts like as if their seat as their right and the asshole is glued to it. I have had to push my way out of the train when my stop arrives. Don's Singaporean ever learned how to queue and wait for the passengers to alight first. I would have think that if there are anything that Singaporeans are good at they are the masters of queuing up.

Tissue Booking

Then there are those who places their tissue paper at the coffeshop table during lunch time and leaves to order their food. I have had this experience when I was at Adam Road's food centre during lunch time. As the lunch crowd starts to swell, my friends and I managed to locate an available table that was vacant. We sat on the table and my friend noticed a packet of tissue paper on the table. Thinking that it was left behind by the previous patron we happily took slides by slides of the tissue to wipe on the table and our selves. Before long, four Chinese ladies all with food in tray came and rudely told us that the table is theirs. Apparently it seems that the tissue paper that were placed on the table is an indication that the table has been booked by them. I have never realised that there is such a policy of booking table using their tissue and whoever came up with such a dumb ass idea? May I suggest that in future instead of putting their tissue could we instead put handphones or wallets instead? Least I know that the table is occupied provided that the handphone or wallet is still there by the time they returned.

The Dog Walker

Don't get me wrong. I love dogs even though I can't have one. I find them huggable and cute except for those bulldog breed. I am sorry.. just hate how they look. But I couldn't stand those owners that behave like their pet or even worst of. Just yesterday, I had just completed my run around my estate and was warming down at the park stretching myself and giving myself time whilst my breath catches up with me and to check if I had left behind any part of myself whilst running without realising it. :-). Just as I was sitting at the side of the running track a lady was letting loose her dog whilst she was busy talking on the phone. Just then the dog poo in the middle of the track and as if it is suffering from some constipation problem a mere distance later, it poo again. The lady looked at the dog and just walked away leaving the two spots in the middle of the track alone as if expecting that there is gonna be a maid tagging behind her to pick it up after her.

I gave the lady the disgusted looked and asked her if she realised that her dog had poo in the middle of the track. She gave me a quizzical look, (I supposed the only stupid look that she can afford to have) glanced over, said a half hearted sorry and walked away. I asked if she should at least pick it up after her and her look turned from that of quizzical to total bewilderment. (Still believe me she looks stupid). She picked her dog up after her and jog off. I just hope that her dog would poo on her sorry ass instead.

So Are We a Gracious Society?

So tell me? Are we a gracious society. I supposed that we are far from it. AFter many millions spent on campaigns after campaigns, adverts and billboards, Singaporeans by far are no more gracious then we used to be decades ago.

Enough with the Pressing !!

I rushed to Raffles Hotel to attend a luncheon with a dear friend of mine who was visiting Singapore after almost five years. All dressed up and late as usual, I rushed to the posh lobby of the hotel and literally ran towards the lift lobby passed my way through a number of tourists who I wondered may be thinking that the interior of the hotel lobby is the most interesting sight in Singapore.

20 metres away and a marathon dash later I finally reached my destination with a quizzical look from some of the patrons and staff. Wanting to look as compose as possible I could only manage a smile, pressed the lift button and looked intently at the floor numbers as it went up and down.

Not long after another lady came by and stood beside me. She then pressed the lift button again beside it being lighted. Hmmmmm okey, I have already done that I thought to myself. The lift numbers changed slowly, creeping slowly down to the lobby. Apparently it seems that the lift decides to make it a policy for itself to stop on every floor and open its door to see whether there is any person. The journey that it took to reach the lobby seems like an eternity.

Feeling the same exasperation as I do in waiting for the lift, she pressed the lift button again, this time harder. If the button on the lift had not been made out of aluminum I am certain that it would undoubtedly left an indentation on it. Her faced changed to that of sheer disgust as she looked at the lift numbers crawling and creeping to the ground floor. She pressed harder, this time in repetition and with an obvious swearing escaping from her mouth. As the carriage finally arrives and opens it doors, she was the first to rush in into the lift. I bet if there is a lift attendant inside the lift she would have given him the disgusted looked plus a scolding or two.

When the elevator finally arrives the lady quickly 'hurrumph' herself into the carriage with an obvious disgust, pressed her destination and stood at one end of the carriage seemingly trying very hard to pretend that I was never present at all. Now I am being disgusted. She acts as if the whole elevator shafts revolves around her. Gritting my teeth, holding my breath, I intend to make her stay in the elevator as much as a living hell as I could. And as if the elevator was in total agreement with me a group of obvious tourist came rushing for the lifts, a couple, their four children and an elderly lady with her maid. The couple entered the lift followed with the children, in obvious delight, shouting laughing and jumping around in total defiance of their parents plea to quieten down. Their mother's embarrassing look is nothing in comparison to the look that I am seeing from the lady at the far end.

Seeing that it is obvious that the couple's elderly mother is no olympic medallist and is no hurry to enter the lift, the gentleman suggested to her wife to proceed up first whist he take the second ride. I with full conviction insisted that we will wait and pressed the 'door open' button with my dear life. The walked to the elevator door was taking an eternity and I could swear that every step that she takes the whole world 'wizzed' passed in fast motion. But the sight of the lady in total disgust by my gut to hold the lift door is priceless coupled by the harrowing shout and laughter of their children.

I supposed our fast paced life in pursuit of wealth and success had eliminate our ability to exercise the social graciousness and empathy towards others. We are so 'hard up' with time and commitment that we are no able to appreciate life and all the wonders that it has to offer. So the next time that you are taking the elevator up take time to look all the people taking the elevator with you and stop pressing the button more than once.

What does it mean to be Singaporean?

We celebrated the nation's 43rd birthday a few days ago much to the hype and sensation of fireworks and songs, music and dances. Singaporeans of all walks of life, the entrepreneurs to the housewives, the elderly to the youths, the locals to the foreigners immerse themselves in a night of colourful shows and sensational performances. The atmosphere in the stadium was electric. We were all proud and happy to celebrate our nation's 43rd year of independence. As all the glitter and fun ends with a spectacular fireworks shows that light up the night skies, we all returned back home, feeling exhausted and tired from the long queues at the MRT stations and buses and the long traffic jams on the roads leading away from the stadium.

The next morning we woke up to the sunshine of a brand new day. The experience of yesterday's event still fresh in our memories. As we open up the Sunday's morning news, we read the post articles of yesterday's event, the full colour print and photos that immortalise the day forever.

Two days later, as we are all back to work, bogged down by our daily routines and commitments, the event of August 8 fades away from our mind.

So what is the significants of the National Day to us then? Is it another day for us to break from the norms and spent the day with the family and friends. To some, they may say that it is a day for us to remember the struggle for independence and the ardous journey of nation building. But that sounds cliche.

I am sure that in the thoughts of many people of my generation, the significant of National Day bears the same standing as any other major public holidays. It is just another day where we could all enjoy an unceremonious break from the office, from the mundane routine of daily life. I met with a few of my friends the day after the National event and no one recounted their experience of either watching the event in the television, the event was never discussed at all as if it has never happened at all.

So what does it mean to be a Singaporean if we all lost all the affliation to the meaning. The national day event is just a catalysts, and outlet of national patriotism however affliation to the country should go beyond a national day event. The meaning of being a Singaporean is being proud to be one. It is the unexplainable feeling one has whenever the National Anthem is being played and the flag being flown by. It is the sense of pride that one has whenever we are overseas and the desire to announce to anyone we met that we are from Singapore.

Many would argue that the meaning of being a Singaporean is more to that but for me suffice to begin that we are proud of the achievements that we have attained thus far from our humble beginning to being a cosmopolitan city.

Dying Trades, Relive

I was driving into the car park of my home when I saw a tired looking old man holding on to two metallic paraphernalia and hitting both the objects together making a unique 'clinking' sound. Standing by the car park in front of a row of cars and under the blazing hot sun, the presence of the old man did not fail to attract my attention. For one there is something familiar about what he was doing. The metal clinking sound that he generated from the two metallic objects held on his hand and the white looking substance that is inside the aluminium casing which he was seen hitting it with occasionally, catapult me back to the days when I was still in primary school.

He is the seller of a home made sweet flour. A hardened paste mixed with sugar and flour. The scene and sound made, reminds me of my younger days when we used to rush out of school compound just to get a packet of the sweet flour from an old Chinese man who would wait under a big Angsana tree outside our school. Dressed in his usual shorts but with his signature big rattan hat, he will rhythmically knock on his metal apparatus signalling his presence to the hordes of students coming out of the school. Like a scene of the Piped Piper from Hamelin where the children were taken away from the village by the piped piper, the scene

that was played were less dramatic however still nostalgic. We would line up often with our parents in towed to get a packet of the sweet paste. Back then there are no branded sweets or chocolates that is the staples for our young nowadays, the sweet white paste of flour and sugar mixture is our favourite sweet of the day.

Simple flavour without the sophistication of content or the mixture of vanilla, chocolate or strawberry or any other flavour and ingredients that we will find in today's' s sweet, the trade of the old days was simple flour and cane sugar. If we used to see the old seller almost everyday during my younger years or growing days, now the sight is seldom and as rare as an antique beetle. The Sweet Flour seller is one of Singapore's dying trades that is being swallowed by the wave of rapid modernisation.

It is safe to say that the uncle that sold my packet of sweet flour is the last in his family to ever carry out the trade. Undoubtedly his children would never ever want to carry on with his trade.

I did not waste the opportunity to talk to him and asked him how long he has been selling the sweet flour. He relived his younger years where he used to sell the sweet flour along the rustic roads and pathway of old Chinatown. Back then he said children would rushed to the sound of

his clicking metal and the content of his metal plate would be gone in a matter of minutes, hotter then a plate of Laksa. Even the older folks whose teeth have seen their better days would not passed the opportunity of sucking their way into the hardened flour. But now he lamented, to even finish selling the whole plate by the time the sun sets would be a feat. As I sucked my way through my packet of sweet, I bid my farewell to the old man, realising that I may never see him again and that it would be my last packet of sweetened flour that would make my way through my watery mouth.

It is with sad realisation that the old trade of the past is fast disappearing as society is being swept through the rapid pace of modernisation and globalisation. The things and experiences that we used to take for granted is vanishing into the dark chasm of history. Sooner or later many of the trade that we are seeing now would only be seen in museums or through the annals of history.

The gates of the world that used to separate nations from its neighbours, society from other cultures are now groaning wide open. From the marble balconies of someone's home and over the airwaves of local radios, demagogues decry new risks to ancient cultures and traditional values because of globalisation. Satellites, the Internet, and jumbo jets carry

the contagion. To many people, "foreign" has become a synonym for "danger." Many have now cried afoul of how globalisation has slowly eroded our cultural and heritage values. Of course, now the chants of cultural preservation and heritage and anthems of nationalism are gaining voices. Virtually every individual at every level of society can sense the impact of international changes. They can see and hear it in their media, taste it in their food, and sense it in the products that they buy. Even more visceral and threatening to those who fear these changes is how the two waves of modernisation and globalisation is threatening our cultural and heritage values.

More and more our old heritage are gone, blown away by the wind, evaporating like snow capes over a mountain. People like the old chinese uncle who braves the glaring sun to sell his produce are disappearing. Many other scenes like parrot fortune teller, the streets walker shoes mender or even our fame barber shops that cuts our hair for less than 10 dollars are now being replace by hair beauty saloons and Mr Shoeman.

I supposed that we will not be able to stand against the tide of change and moderniation that is sweeping through us. What we can do now is to immerse ourselves with the remaining heritage that is left. For me at lease, I will enjoy my last packet of sweet flour.