tthk84

But I feel that this is necessary. And I guess we're all happy. =)

Exit. Vatican Museum, Rome.

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Memories are crippling. It's a place for the weak to seek solace, to relive the happiness they once felt in times of despondency. It hence stops yourself from moving on and to live the moment. What's the purpose of nostalgia? Why do people need memories to furnish an identity? Why do we need to have identity? And it goes back to the oft-asked question: If people, places and events are not remembered, does that mean they've never existed?

I look back (ironically, haha) at one of the very last article I wrote for The Ridge. "Why write?" in April 2008 edition. It was a little consolidation of thoughts and reflections about writing, and a response article to one my first few articles, "Why write (and talk)?" in April 2007 version. Back then, I was, perhaps, exploring on the reason for writing. What did writing mean for the "pros"? What are the gratifications? I enjoyed writing but I didn't know why. Maybe, I was just getting someone to explain for me.

Did I find it? Nope. Instead, my reasons differed vastly from the various editior-in-chiefs. It even differed from the rationalized ideal that journalism's roles or purposes are to bridge communications, shape public perceptions through propaganda, keep government in check, yada yada.

Journalism, or writing, for me, is an attempt to remember. Remember those who are forgotten, the achievements and the shames. It was an active and rigorous process to record the events, intepret and make sense of the vast amount of information, and to defend the article whenever some jokers come up to you and say your article is not objective. The gratification comes when the process inspires people to remember, and if the articles are able to give the future generations a sense of time, process, place and history.

So in essence, to do journalism is to pursue memories. A person, whom I can call a good friend, asked if I had always lived in memories. I said I tried not to. A little relevation, memories are only for the strong. Those who are strong enough to come to terms with it. Those who are strong enough to exist on both the memories and here-and-now planes. Those who can "manage" memories.

I shared about my memories a few days ago, those in which I have actively attempted to erase. I had difficulties. Difficulties in verbalizing them without feeling affected. I still feel sad over them. Everyone has his or her fair share of traumatic experience. Some manage to forget, some think they have forgotten, some embrace it by reliving the happy part everyday. The sadness of it not being there overwhelms the happiness. For me, one thing I realized, thanks to Science centre, is that I am still not at peace with myself. To put it explicitly, I am still living my life through living the lives of others. I am too narcisstic and I expect nothing less than perfection. I'd rather not exist, not remembered, unless...

This has got to change. And I'm thankful to the new relationships formed, of late. I am hopeful.

 

Now that's what I call creativity!

I couldn't stop listening.

Driven by impulse, I bought a one-way ticket to Hong Kong, Nov. 26! School vacation hasn't even officially started.

Now I keep my fingers crossed, hoping the GESL project would have finished by then. Hoping no silly assignments due on that day etc. Hopefully nothing crops up.

But I am getting a kick outta this.

I live on the edge.

It was 'happening' at Sengkang yesterday!


Swarms of bees outside my house. We scrambled to close all the windows. Strangely, it was reminiscent of the scenes in "They day the earth stood still."


During one of my regular runs around the neighbourhood, the grassroot folks were celebrating NDP 2009. The firework display was the highlight. It felt like a kampong when people from the neighbouring blocks of flats came down with plastic chairs and titbits and waited for the whole display to start. Lasted about 5 minutes.

 A friend said I'm being too "easy". Too simple. A pushover. I'm not sure how he arrives at such a conclusion, but I might have misrepresented myself by telling him about my escapades when I was younger. Younger and foolish-er.

I got kinda upset. Because what he said holds some truth. Not the entire truth, but still, some truth. I don't reject well, I am usually not able to give a resounding "no" to things I am not keen on. There are many instances I can recall since kindergarten to secondary school, in which I suffered in silence in order to be nice. Or maybe, just being afraid to say "no".

I may get unhappy and it shows on my face. But I don't do that all the time. My friends of more than 10 years would be very familiar with that. Despite being an humanities person, in which socratic dialogue and argument are part and parcel of life and school, I tend to steer clear of confrontations. I try not to allow myself end up in a compromising position. In fact, the harder someone pushes me, the more resistant I get.

I am still looking for this "voice" of mine. 

For anyone, who just wants to be okay.

I am now sitting along Singapore River. Near the parliament house to be exact.

Anyone who's sitting here would know it's a beautiful place.

Stretching along the (maybe) 400m panorama, you'd see the static and yet time-traveling expository of history.

Fort Canning hill on the right, 1800s shop and warehouses (now turned into restaurants etc.) to 1970s aspiration to modernity (seen in IM Pei's iconic OCBC Building) to modest skyscrapers. I said modest cos' you'd would think so too if you have been to Dubai.

All these happened over the span of decades.

Past, present, and future in a single place. It is modestly romantic, modestly proud, nothing big and fanciful. Just right, comfortable. It is just, nice to be sitting here.

Pulau Ubin, Singapore

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Went over to Ubin over the weekend with RF's family. The seniors, consisting of aunties over the age of 60.

What did we do there? Pick wild fruits to eat. Durians and rambutans in particular. I must say that it's pretty surprising that fruits grown in Singapore are amongst the best I have eaten in my life!

Perhaps because they are wild. Wild things are the best.

The seniors were happy. You could see it in their eyes. Once again, they had become the kampung kids they once were. "Hill people" they'd call themselves.

They couldn't walk very well, but they jolly well climbed slopes, jumped over drains, trek in muddy path. It's pretty moving for us, the urban born and bred people.

They taught me some techniques in picking rambutans high up in the trees, and how we should always wait for durians to fall. We also learnt to identify some plants that we eat so often but took them for granted. They look very ordinary but are essential in certain cuisine.

And when I came home, told my dad.

He had lots to share, too.


The perfect weapon


Primitive method


Look kinda like Koreans, don't they?


The seniors, taking a rest


Little kid trying to be a boatman


Picking rambutans

Dramatic sunset at Pizzale Michelangelo, Florence, Italy

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Most people think of me as an organized and neat person. Look at my work desk, room or even wallet, everything has its place and they stay in there. A lil' fascist. This projection of neatness is psychologically empowering.

I travelled to Italy alone. Solo backpacking - it sounds cool. My laissez attitude would often land me up in making impulsive decisions and then, off I go to foreign places.

During the trip, there were moments of loneliness, tiredness, sublime whatever etc. It's a basket full of emotions, and that is not easy to translate into words. It was not fun getting lost in the middle of Dubai, where temperature soars up to above 40 degree celsius. It's not cheap to get lost in Italy when a short bus trip alone costs $2.40 SGD. Truth be told, I didn't talk much during the whole trip. I went through hours of not talking.

Loneliness is amplified when you are in a large crowd of people you don't know.

There were many solo travellers as well. And I can't be representative of them. But too often a time, you'd find many of us (solo travellers) just sitting at the bar, having a beer, reading something, watching clouds and people.

I find solace in this quiet solidarity.

Italy was like GEK1025 (Reading Visual Images) and AR3222 (Theory of Western Architecture and Urban Design) coming alive. There were buildings that I really love, such as the Pantheon and Florence Cathedral. The best episode of the whole trip was at Piazzale Michelangelo in Florence, where you can get (relatively) cheap ice-cream and a super uber fucking fantastic bird-eye view of city. And of course some churches seem to be out of proportion there. They are lovely nonetheless.

It wasn't difficult to see Singaporeans in Italy. Look out for crumpler bags (+crumpler imitations) and NLB guidebooks. I'd always find myself learning more about Singapore when I'm NOT in Singapore.

As much as I'd like to think that I am an independent, free-spirited, laissez sort of person; as much as I'd like to think I am undeserving of companionship; as much as I'd like to think that I am incapable of taking care of someone else, I think I want to have a person to walk on the world with me.


Florence, Italy


Florence Cathedral, Italy


The Pantheon, Rome, Italy

As usual, highlights on http://the-cheesecak.blogspot.com. Or on my facebook, If you are already my friend.

Pretty impressed with TransportAsian.

The ticket's been booked.

Singapore - Dubai - Rome - The Vatican - Florence - Venice (with hope) - Rome - Dubai - Singapore

June 2009. 

I can't wait. 

Life isn't a bed of roses, so get over it.

But looking at the condition of my grandmother, I really cannot understand how living can be a joy.

I can't imagine how life would be like when I am old myself.

Actually, I can't even foresee what will happen a week, a month, a year away from now.

I'm signing on the dotted line soon.

In slightly less than two months, I'm going back to school to do my post grad.

In fact, I have never much left school in my whole life.

Frankly speaking, there's always a tinge of regret at the back of my mind.

To do the things we set out to do, is a fortune.

But again, only the contented are rich.

Do I deserve to ask for more? Don't know.

Life isn't fair. Just like the boys in a colleague's class are scoring distinctions when they don't do work; while girls are getting F9s when they're the hardworking ones.

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Once again, I will be shifting place again. For the past few years, I've been pretty nomadic.

So much so I don't nest anymore. Can't really be bothered.

My favourite photo of Bowen so far. I call it the dreamcatcher.

"Only good dreams would be allowed to filter through. Bad dreams would stay in the net, disappearing with the light of day."

 
I generally disapprove a country, or a city, or an economy being too reliant on tourism and put in place infrastructures that are aimed primarily at the tourism dollar. Reason being, the tourism landscape is very volatile and "carnivorous". It eats up the culture of a place, leaving behind empty booze bottles and puddles of vomits. Tourists consume and do not contribute to the culture of a place.

Last night, I was at Clarke Quay, briefly. I thought the place was a bit dimmer than it usually is. Lots of expats have gone home as MNCs have to clean their asses and leave Singapore. Many livelihoods are impacted in one way or another, especially people running a business that caters only to tourists. 

No, I'm not even talking about restaurant owners at the quaysides. Neither am I talking about the retailers at Orchard Road. I am talking about this rickshaw rider I saw last night. Amid the bars and clubs, he advances slowly like a tiger in the forest; a predator looking out for preys. It wasn't easy, I supposed. It used to be a whole pack of them but now it is left with only one.

Locals will never take a rickshaw because its freaking expensive. Same goes for the boat service along Singapore River.

I wish they'd lower the price, turn it into a mode of transport instead of a tourism tool. All these modes of transport are actually part of Singapore's history and culture, but what's so Singapore about it when there's no Singaporeans using them?

Let's say if I were to hop over from a dinner at Boat Quay to Zouk, I'd definitely not mind taking a boat ride there if it does not cost like $12. Similarly, if I were to stay along Lower Delta, I would love the have the option of taking a boat ride to the city and beat the morning jam. Same goes for intra-city transport via rickshaw.

Now they're (the modes of transport) just one of those exotic but bogus Singapore "things". And fake things don't last. True colours show.

And I wonder how long that rickshaw rider can survive. 

I went for relief duties at 2T1 today. For those not in the know, classes with T stands for Normal Technical classes, or Normal (T).  A lot of people don't feel very hopeful towards these kids in Normal (T). Oh by the way, incidentally, Normal T classes in Holy Innocents' are named "Hope" - 1 Hope, 2 Hope etc. 

But here at Bowen Sec, they are just called 1T1, 2T1 etc. Not very creative but it doesn't really matter. The lesson I was sitting in for was music.

The nice thing about Bowen's curriculum is that they have quite a few interesting programmes which involve external instructors, usually professionals in their field, to conduct lessons that are very lively and interactive. It does away with textbooks and order. Students are given space to explore on that particular subject. By space, I mean it spatially.

The music lesson is conducted by a dancer, who taught these students about hip-hop dancing. How interesting it is in school nowadays, to be doing hip-hop during curriculum time!

What surprises me most is the attitude of the students: they meant business and were putting in a lot of effort to get their moves right. Even the naughtiest kid tried. You could see it in their eyes. And when I look at them, I see great future. I feel optimistic really. School really needs to move out of the current framework that focuses merely on academia. It could be about creating a very nurturing environment that helps students realise their potentials.

I definitely hope to see a few of these little dancers making it big ten years down the road.  

Almost a week since I'm posted to Bowen Sec. School has been benign, so are the students. I say this with my fingers crossed. 

Long time since I am away from the regurgitating-styled GCE exams. Or I should say, just exams. Time to rev up the cerebrum. Oh wait, I can hear the gears starting to move. 

My interaction with students is, by far, pretty limited. I do get two Normal (A) classes for academic coaching. But I should say that the things I get to do in an hour is pretty limited. But so far, these kids are pretty pleasant, some of them have genuine motivation to learn. And it's only up to us to devise the best plans and activities for them, to help them get through the O level hurdle. 

Here in Singapore, one studies for choice. The higher level (A level, dip, deg etc.) you move, the more choices you have to do what you want with your life. I'd say academic contents are secondary. I definitely don't remember a thing about A math and Chemistry right now. What a student is gonna take away from school is skills. Lots and lots of skills. 

Last week we had a wonderful workshop for the teachers on social and emotional learning. We were told to identify a teacher (our own teacher when we were students) and list down the reasons why we remember them. A teacher's effectiveness based on the grades of his/her student is ostensible. None of the participants at the workshop remembers his teachers because they help him score As in his subject.

Similarly, I remembered my own teacher Mrs Chang not because she helped me pass A math, but because she encouraged me to stay on in JC, which eventually led me to the university. She made an impact in my life. 

Now that I think of this, I am encouraged. And I think that is the kind of teacher I want to be. 

I have to confess that Joanna Wang is good.

But sometimes I don't get that essence or emotions of the song she covers. Technically competent, but lacking in soul. Perhaps it's her age? Not that this should be a reason but I guess experiences from broken relationships help in a singer's rendition of a song.

This is different. Really, really love this.