To my name twin yx, I am going to miss you so, so, so much. Go forth and slay where you belong, I can't wait to see what the next few years has in store for you.
Saturday, January 20, 2018
Southern Islands Hopping
To my name twin yx, I am going to miss you so, so, so much. Go forth and slay where you belong, I can't wait to see what the next few years has in store for you.
Wednesday, January 3, 2018
2017
10 PM on the last day before 2018 and I wish I can make my life sound cooler by saying that I'm at Bang Bang on my third cup of long island iced tea and laughing way too much at everything, and when it strikes 12 I will stand on a chair and scream happy new year bitches!!!! but really I am just at home because I find it meaningless to view fireworks through people's iPhones and then queue forever to get on the MRT back at 2am. Or, that I actually thought I wanted to study but clearly I wrote this post instead, and really, whats with rum, vodka, bacardi, soju and gin? They all taste like whiteboard marker?
So back at it, a series of funny coincidences led me to have telegram chat with Zhuo Hui (who happens to be one of the closer friends I've found in law school and Tembusu) about AuditionSEA. This made me smile because audi is really one of the stories I will use to think about how much has changed over the years. I used to be so obsessed with that game. Pretty sure there were times when I thought about it during all the afternoon supplementary classes just to rush home to log onto it after school. In fact, I was so gung ho that I actually met up with my audi fam (kinda a clan system) in real life - yes, one of them was actually working at the dessert counter at Hougang macs, and a mix of us from secondary school to poly just sat at macs eating ice cream - and I even got married and all. Virtually, of course. Zhuo and I dug out old screenshots of our in-game characters and talked about a lot of the game functions. I mused that it was such an apt conversation to have leading into 2018, my life has changed so much in such profound ways since those days, haha.
I thought I'd take a break from mugging for "finals" and take stock of what has happened in the past year.
I tried yoga (kinda, like a hybrid with aerobics) and decided it was not for me. In an attempt to be healthy, my mum and I signed up for some aerobics class offered by our community club. It made me understand that work-life balance is a concept that sounded better in theory than in actuality. It was a night class that was designed for people to head to after work, but really, it is nearly impossible to make it on time unless you really made sure you knocked off on time from work, which - culturally speaking, doesn't really cut it across most industries in Singapore. I experienced it first hand as I realised it is difficult to knock off on time for a consistent day per week. No wonder these programmes are not gaining traction, and I (for the times that I did turn up of course - my mum didn't even bother after a while) often found myself caught in the middle of aunty dynamics at the class. Well, it might not be for me but I did sweat a bunch and became slightly more flexible, I guess. Overall it is a commendable ground-up effort from the community club to hold interesting classes at very lucrative prices...
I thought I'd take a break from mugging for "finals" and take stock of what has happened in the past year.
I tried yoga (kinda, like a hybrid with aerobics) and decided it was not for me. In an attempt to be healthy, my mum and I signed up for some aerobics class offered by our community club. It made me understand that work-life balance is a concept that sounded better in theory than in actuality. It was a night class that was designed for people to head to after work, but really, it is nearly impossible to make it on time unless you really made sure you knocked off on time from work, which - culturally speaking, doesn't really cut it across most industries in Singapore. I experienced it first hand as I realised it is difficult to knock off on time for a consistent day per week. No wonder these programmes are not gaining traction, and I (for the times that I did turn up of course - my mum didn't even bother after a while) often found myself caught in the middle of aunty dynamics at the class. Well, it might not be for me but I did sweat a bunch and became slightly more flexible, I guess. Overall it is a commendable ground-up effort from the community club to hold interesting classes at very lucrative prices...
Tuesday, December 26, 2017
Life
Death.
Death is confusing, death is simple. Death is selfless, death is selfish. Death can be longed for, death can be unexpected. Death is never just about the dead.
Loss and sadness are feelings innate in all of us. Today I write this post in tribute of my friend's family who left us too soon.
When I first heard the news, I gasped and stared at my phone for a long time. It was in the middle of a carolling day. My smiles for the rest of the day did not feel right. The words I sang were empty.
My mother is my best friend. I told her immediately. That night, we sat at the dining table and talked. I told my mother honestly that if she, my father and my brother left me, I will wish that I died during the incident too. It is not because I would not be brave enough to face everything alone. I think I will be void of purpose in life since family is my purpose.
My mother looked at me earnestly and said, "It will always be the wish of the family who left for their child to be strong."
We had an honest conversation. She candidly said that children tend to be able to carry on with their lives even though their parents have died, while parents who lose their children often lose their will to live. Parents* have stronger emotional ties to their children than their children have to them.
After thinking through, I told her I might be able to carry on without them. I like to think I have a good relationship with each of my parents, though not perfect, we do have good conversations, hang out, laugh, spend an ok amount of time together, and I can say for sure that I am damn proud of them and their story. Regret is a big thing which I think will gnaw at your heart if any of your loved one(s) leave. So I said I think I showed my parents I loved them in this lifetime. I will only regret for my brother. Our relationship is still unstable, he drives me to my edge all the time, and yet I remain guilty for all the times in the past when all he wanted was me to notice/love/hug him back but I would be so annoyed. Now he is just a bratty teenager who hates going out with us.
Dear God, if I have one prayer this Christmas is that you will save my relationship with my brother before it is too late. I love him so much. I hope you will let him know that. I hope you will let me see his love for me too.
God, let my friends who have strained relationships with their family find peace and harmony. Give them guidance to treat their family better. Let them at least have no regrets when they find meaning in the words "life is fleeting".
And God, give her strength to find your wisdom in this trying time. Let her know that I will love her always.
Death is confusing, death is simple. Death is selfless, death is selfish. Death can be longed for, death can be unexpected. Death is never just about the dead.
Loss and sadness are feelings innate in all of us. Today I write this post in tribute of my friend's family who left us too soon.
When I first heard the news, I gasped and stared at my phone for a long time. It was in the middle of a carolling day. My smiles for the rest of the day did not feel right. The words I sang were empty.
My mother is my best friend. I told her immediately. That night, we sat at the dining table and talked. I told my mother honestly that if she, my father and my brother left me, I will wish that I died during the incident too. It is not because I would not be brave enough to face everything alone. I think I will be void of purpose in life since family is my purpose.
My mother looked at me earnestly and said, "It will always be the wish of the family who left for their child to be strong."
We had an honest conversation. She candidly said that children tend to be able to carry on with their lives even though their parents have died, while parents who lose their children often lose their will to live. Parents* have stronger emotional ties to their children than their children have to them.
After thinking through, I told her I might be able to carry on without them. I like to think I have a good relationship with each of my parents, though not perfect, we do have good conversations, hang out, laugh, spend an ok amount of time together, and I can say for sure that I am damn proud of them and their story. Regret is a big thing which I think will gnaw at your heart if any of your loved one(s) leave. So I said I think I showed my parents I loved them in this lifetime. I will only regret for my brother. Our relationship is still unstable, he drives me to my edge all the time, and yet I remain guilty for all the times in the past when all he wanted was me to notice/love/hug him back but I would be so annoyed. Now he is just a bratty teenager who hates going out with us.
Dear God, if I have one prayer this Christmas is that you will save my relationship with my brother before it is too late. I love him so much. I hope you will let him know that. I hope you will let me see his love for me too.
God, let my friends who have strained relationships with their family find peace and harmony. Give them guidance to treat their family better. Let them at least have no regrets when they find meaning in the words "life is fleeting".
And God, give her strength to find your wisdom in this trying time. Let her know that I will love her always.
Saturday, July 15, 2017
Adventures
It has been a good seven months since I made my way onto this blog space. I told myself to update about my own milestones here but I guess it must be my innate lack of self-discipline, or immense laziness, or tendency to get distracted by everything I can access on my devices (thanks Facebook, YouTube, myasiantv, freemovies, spotify, reddit, Instagram), or my lack of self-discipline, wait did I mention how I might not have discipline?
So shall I begin picking up the scraps of my life by writing about a latest adventure? :)
Recently I went on a impromptu cycling trip to Pulau Ubin with Gwyneth! I have always wanted to make a return trip to Ubin ever since OBS days there. In other words, I waited 4 years for this?
In these few months, I am really glad to get to know Gwyneth (or Gwen) better as a person. It is a great privilege to get to know schoolmates after school, because we hardly come across schoolmates unless one makes an effort to do so (which, technically, also meant that the relationship was more than an acquaintanceship to start with) Thank you Gwen, for not ending up as a face I merely passed by in school. There is nobody else I rather have winged this trip with.
Ubin is a beautiful place. During OBS, we start and end our trip at their designated ports, and there is an allocated space on the island for the campus. This time, we experienced it from a public point of view - boarding at the Changi Ferry Terminal and visiting the main village on the island. Making my way to the ferry point was easy as we have been to the vincinity many times for choir chalet. Brings back really fond memories of those days when we played cards or cycled into the night and played lots of station games and had BBQs which may or may not have failed sometimes. Now that most of our social activities have evolved to become merrymaking around a beer, or clubbing with booze, I realised that our concept of fun is indeed more simple in the past, where our innocence enables us to find ways to occupy our time anyway. Adulthood complicates things. So don't rush into growing up, don't ever feel that things are cooler on the other side. Take your time to come here because once you're here you won't be able to want out.
The main village is a tranquil place, as it is not that bustling during a weekday. I really like the kampung vibes that was present in the place. Shopkeepers are sitting around, bicycle vendors trying hard to earn the business of the only two girls who look like they came on a cycling mission. After getting our bikes, we were ready to go!
Ubin was actually not as big as any of us remembered/imagined. Honestly, you reach places after barely 10 minutes of cycling. I told Gwen that the place I really set out for was this quarry that my OBS watch went during our land expedition. I remember that we were all sorts of shag from carrying those heavy ass bags, that when we saw some groups had the chance to jump into the crisp clear waters of the quarry, we were so envious. Nonetheless, we had the chance to trek up the hill and reach the highest point of ubin where we were greeted with great views (if you scrolled to my long-ago post about OBS, I wrote about what we did at the peak.... Hahaha... my God!)
Until I realised there are like a hundred over quarries on Ubin itself. OK, it's an exaggeration, but I really no idea which elusive quarry it is that remained on its pedestal in my memories??? THAT WAS UPSETTING.
We first cycled to the west part of the island. We eventually reached some Mountain Biking Trail space, which bore some really pretentious marking points like "Diamond Trail", "Double Black Platinum sounds-difficult Trail" or whatever, and we thought ok, why not give it a shot.
Then we realised that it is literally just one barren path in the middle of a grass patch (which I am really inclined to describe it as a vast field), and the path was literally the width of a bicycle wheel. Clearly, as we struggled to even ride in a straight line on a slight incline, this path was not meant for biking noobs like us.
To add fuel to the fire, we were attacked by ants the moment we got off our bikes to push it instead. Somehow despite the fact that people wore shoes, these pesky things can find their way in and be sandwiched between the socks and the shoes or they go straight for the kill at the ankles.
We had lots of fun at this area of Ubin - we walked around this bike stunting park and visited the German Girl Shrine. We also walked past many OBS groups and they look so tired and sad :( I hoped they will have a long sleep come the last day of their camp and carry away the fonder memories like we did. As we left the quarry, there was a downward slope and a left turn at the end of the slope. And let's just say I fucked up my biking real bad. My bike sped down that slope and I mean I tried to turn and maybe I was kinda a pussy at the same time and also already realised I am going to lose control and die and somewhat accepted my imminent death.........? as I crashed into the bushes in front of me and got flung into the muddy swamps.
Surprisingly, I was really calm during the whole speeding and crashing thing, partly because I reached a state of nirvana, but also because that was way too similar a moment previously where I got flung from my bike but fell on concrete floor instead (and then attended law camp with a very colourful left eye, guess that is another story for another time.) I recalled all those times when my mother would nag that my motor skills suck balls as she applied copious amounts of Zam Bak onto my aforementioned left eye. So I am pretty sure that circa noon time on a cloudy wednesday, my mother felt a drop in her heart which could very well be the disappointment of a very uncoordinated daughter right there. Gwyneth's first reaction was to laugh as she shouted "OMG XY??" and rushed to get me out of the mud. Ok, I admit that I felt ashamed to have crashed into a bush. But on the bright side, falling into mud meant that I was hardly injured, just utterly messy. Thank God I had water and wet tissues to clean myself... and the mud makes your skin feel smoother, can confirm.
On our way back we passed by Puaka Hill and decided to give it a climb upwards. And if you happen to look for a certain memory of a summit where you get to view SG, Malaysia and a Ubin quarry from the same viewpoint, then yes, this is the very hill which you may have climbed years ago as a jaded camper. I was a happy girl :) we stayed at the top for a while and just admired the blue of the quarry and crawled over the fence (mostly we just chickened out and climbed back really quickly).
We next proceeded along to Chek Jawa wetlands which is on the east side of the island. On our way there we stopped at the orchard and caught a wild boar lurking in the distance, which was really cute. While we were there, we mused how barely anytime ago, the entire Singapore was just the forested landscape we saw before us. It was a sharp contrast from the planned roads, colourful HDBs and urban environments we see today. I had a wave of newfound appreciation for our remarkable standards of development.
The next leg of our route was though a canopy and Gwen cycled ahead of me (I wonder why lol) when out of a sudden a small cutie boar ran across the path in front of her. We were far from hitting it, but it was still a surprise that made us both slow down. As we did, I noticed that there was a huge boar that was lurking beside a tree about ten meters ahead of us. Believe me, it was HUGE. Like it-can-eat-both-of-us-alive kind of huge.
And then it turned its head, slowly, to look at us.
You know how if you meet a near-death experience once, it puts things into perspective on whether you can expect yourself to live through another situation? Well whatever, because what the hell?? A boar?? We didn't dare to move at all because the fear is real. And I told Gwen that in the grand scheme of things, giving Chek Jawa a miss is worth it if it means we make it out of Ubin alive. She said we should just cycle quickly across, I replied that it might just trigger the boar to charge after us and then we die for sure lmao. Tension hung thick in the air as we stared the large boar who only stood rooted, while still looking at us. Perhaps, I somewhat believed in the goodwill of the boar and thought it should likely be harmless, as I started to wheel the bike towards it. We eventually pushed our bike slowly past the boar, as it began to walk away. It... didn't even give us a second glance. I'm so sorry for the false impression, ubin wild boar :"( I am obviously not a child of nature.
Chek Jawa was so amazing. We sat down on these rocks by the shore and looked at the tekong in the distance, and admired the views on the broadwalk. We peered at the fishes which climbed up the mangrove roots, and tried to spot crabs poking in and out of its small tunnels. Even though we didn't catch a low tide, we didn't meet anyone else at all during the weekday evening. Having the place to ourselves was a serene experience. My favourite was climbing up the wooden tower structure to oversee the entire shoreline, and catch an occasional plane or two landing in the distance.
We made our way back and we were so friggin tired we just said screw it and just disembarked and pushed our bicycles up the slopes. Since we haven't had lunch, we had an early dinner at Changi V and I also caved into temptation and bought an Oreo Shake which reminded me so much! of! primary! school! bubbletea! shop!! At night, Gwen followed me one round around Daiso as I picked out some things I needed for my impending move into my dorm as she took note of what she wanted to buy. It was a fulfilling day and my heart is full. Ubin, I hope you remain a place untouched by modernity. There is beauty and there is purpose to preserve such a place alongside the city that is our country.
When I was 15, I ever realised that the calendar year will be swiftly coming to an end when Julyhits. It's true, more than half the year has passed. Soon it will be the National Day of Patriotism, exams, more exams, cold weather, that annual intense rainstorm day in November, and Christmas trees all over Orchard Road. A new year begins.
Suddenly I feel like I don't have control over much time at all.
Suddenly I feel like I don't have control over much time at all.
Perhaps, now that I have finally blown off the dust that is on my Blogger dashboard, I will try my best to make a mega update of sorts, with my thoughts on post A levels, working, uni applications, travelling, and what-not. Now I'm hit by pangs of sadness again, every time I realise I have a checklist of things I want to blog about, I regret not writing about them when events are still fresh in my head! Sigh. Sometimes I think I have a avenues for people I'm close to like my instagram and blog but I somehow never get down to posting my bigger milestones on them.
So shall I begin picking up the scraps of my life by writing about a latest adventure? :)
Recently I went on a impromptu cycling trip to Pulau Ubin with Gwyneth! I have always wanted to make a return trip to Ubin ever since OBS days there. In other words, I waited 4 years for this?
In these few months, I am really glad to get to know Gwyneth (or Gwen) better as a person. It is a great privilege to get to know schoolmates after school, because we hardly come across schoolmates unless one makes an effort to do so (which, technically, also meant that the relationship was more than an acquaintanceship to start with) Thank you Gwen, for not ending up as a face I merely passed by in school. There is nobody else I rather have winged this trip with.
Ubin is a beautiful place. During OBS, we start and end our trip at their designated ports, and there is an allocated space on the island for the campus. This time, we experienced it from a public point of view - boarding at the Changi Ferry Terminal and visiting the main village on the island. Making my way to the ferry point was easy as we have been to the vincinity many times for choir chalet. Brings back really fond memories of those days when we played cards or cycled into the night and played lots of station games and had BBQs which may or may not have failed sometimes. Now that most of our social activities have evolved to become merrymaking around a beer, or clubbing with booze, I realised that our concept of fun is indeed more simple in the past, where our innocence enables us to find ways to occupy our time anyway. Adulthood complicates things. So don't rush into growing up, don't ever feel that things are cooler on the other side. Take your time to come here because once you're here you won't be able to want out.
The main village is a tranquil place, as it is not that bustling during a weekday. I really like the kampung vibes that was present in the place. Shopkeepers are sitting around, bicycle vendors trying hard to earn the business of the only two girls who look like they came on a cycling mission. After getting our bikes, we were ready to go!
Ubin was actually not as big as any of us remembered/imagined. Honestly, you reach places after barely 10 minutes of cycling. I told Gwen that the place I really set out for was this quarry that my OBS watch went during our land expedition. I remember that we were all sorts of shag from carrying those heavy ass bags, that when we saw some groups had the chance to jump into the crisp clear waters of the quarry, we were so envious. Nonetheless, we had the chance to trek up the hill and reach the highest point of ubin where we were greeted with great views (if you scrolled to my long-ago post about OBS, I wrote about what we did at the peak.... Hahaha... my God!)
Until I realised there are like a hundred over quarries on Ubin itself. OK, it's an exaggeration, but I really no idea which elusive quarry it is that remained on its pedestal in my memories??? THAT WAS UPSETTING.
We first cycled to the west part of the island. We eventually reached some Mountain Biking Trail space, which bore some really pretentious marking points like "Diamond Trail", "Double Black Platinum sounds-difficult Trail" or whatever, and we thought ok, why not give it a shot.
Then we realised that it is literally just one barren path in the middle of a grass patch (which I am really inclined to describe it as a vast field), and the path was literally the width of a bicycle wheel. Clearly, as we struggled to even ride in a straight line on a slight incline, this path was not meant for biking noobs like us.
To add fuel to the fire, we were attacked by ants the moment we got off our bikes to push it instead. Somehow despite the fact that people wore shoes, these pesky things can find their way in and be sandwiched between the socks and the shoes or they go straight for the kill at the ankles.
We had lots of fun at this area of Ubin - we walked around this bike stunting park and visited the German Girl Shrine. We also walked past many OBS groups and they look so tired and sad :( I hoped they will have a long sleep come the last day of their camp and carry away the fonder memories like we did. As we left the quarry, there was a downward slope and a left turn at the end of the slope. And let's just say I fucked up my biking real bad. My bike sped down that slope and I mean I tried to turn and maybe I was kinda a pussy at the same time and also already realised I am going to lose control and die and somewhat accepted my imminent death.........? as I crashed into the bushes in front of me and got flung into the muddy swamps.
Surprisingly, I was really calm during the whole speeding and crashing thing, partly because I reached a state of nirvana, but also because that was way too similar a moment previously where I got flung from my bike but fell on concrete floor instead (and then attended law camp with a very colourful left eye, guess that is another story for another time.) I recalled all those times when my mother would nag that my motor skills suck balls as she applied copious amounts of Zam Bak onto my aforementioned left eye. So I am pretty sure that circa noon time on a cloudy wednesday, my mother felt a drop in her heart which could very well be the disappointment of a very uncoordinated daughter right there. Gwyneth's first reaction was to laugh as she shouted "OMG XY??" and rushed to get me out of the mud. Ok, I admit that I felt ashamed to have crashed into a bush. But on the bright side, falling into mud meant that I was hardly injured, just utterly messy. Thank God I had water and wet tissues to clean myself... and the mud makes your skin feel smoother, can confirm.
On our way back we passed by Puaka Hill and decided to give it a climb upwards. And if you happen to look for a certain memory of a summit where you get to view SG, Malaysia and a Ubin quarry from the same viewpoint, then yes, this is the very hill which you may have climbed years ago as a jaded camper. I was a happy girl :) we stayed at the top for a while and just admired the blue of the quarry and crawled over the fence (mostly we just chickened out and climbed back really quickly).
We next proceeded along to Chek Jawa wetlands which is on the east side of the island. On our way there we stopped at the orchard and caught a wild boar lurking in the distance, which was really cute. While we were there, we mused how barely anytime ago, the entire Singapore was just the forested landscape we saw before us. It was a sharp contrast from the planned roads, colourful HDBs and urban environments we see today. I had a wave of newfound appreciation for our remarkable standards of development.
The next leg of our route was though a canopy and Gwen cycled ahead of me (I wonder why lol) when out of a sudden a small cutie boar ran across the path in front of her. We were far from hitting it, but it was still a surprise that made us both slow down. As we did, I noticed that there was a huge boar that was lurking beside a tree about ten meters ahead of us. Believe me, it was HUGE. Like it-can-eat-both-of-us-alive kind of huge.
And then it turned its head, slowly, to look at us.
You know how if you meet a near-death experience once, it puts things into perspective on whether you can expect yourself to live through another situation? Well whatever, because what the hell?? A boar?? We didn't dare to move at all because the fear is real. And I told Gwen that in the grand scheme of things, giving Chek Jawa a miss is worth it if it means we make it out of Ubin alive. She said we should just cycle quickly across, I replied that it might just trigger the boar to charge after us and then we die for sure lmao. Tension hung thick in the air as we stared the large boar who only stood rooted, while still looking at us. Perhaps, I somewhat believed in the goodwill of the boar and thought it should likely be harmless, as I started to wheel the bike towards it. We eventually pushed our bike slowly past the boar, as it began to walk away. It... didn't even give us a second glance. I'm so sorry for the false impression, ubin wild boar :"( I am obviously not a child of nature.
Chek Jawa was so amazing. We sat down on these rocks by the shore and looked at the tekong in the distance, and admired the views on the broadwalk. We peered at the fishes which climbed up the mangrove roots, and tried to spot crabs poking in and out of its small tunnels. Even though we didn't catch a low tide, we didn't meet anyone else at all during the weekday evening. Having the place to ourselves was a serene experience. My favourite was climbing up the wooden tower structure to oversee the entire shoreline, and catch an occasional plane or two landing in the distance.
We made our way back and we were so friggin tired we just said screw it and just disembarked and pushed our bicycles up the slopes. Since we haven't had lunch, we had an early dinner at Changi V and I also caved into temptation and bought an Oreo Shake which reminded me so much! of! primary! school! bubbletea! shop!! At night, Gwen followed me one round around Daiso as I picked out some things I needed for my impending move into my dorm as she took note of what she wanted to buy. It was a fulfilling day and my heart is full. Ubin, I hope you remain a place untouched by modernity. There is beauty and there is purpose to preserve such a place alongside the city that is our country.
Sunday, January 15, 2017
回家
It's been a long time but happier days are here again since the end of the fucking academic apocalypse A levels. When As ended, I made a comprehensive mental checklist which included "1. Sleep for 14 hours straight" and... that's about it, it was very comprehensive, okay. Except that my spirits got dragged through mud because I ended up failing the only thing on my list - First, I used my phone without giving a care till like 2am in the morning, only to wake up at 8.30am the next day. Au Naturel. I am not too sure if I feel pride or sadness that I managed to condition my body to do such a thing.
Somehow in the four days following the end of As, I managed to muster the energy needed to crawl out of my humble abode and make a new pair of spectacles for myself. I met Shanice at the spectacle shop because I value her fashion advice, and not because she happens to live nearby. We (together with a very friendly sales assistant who we later found out was a super nightlife person) actually spent more than an hour completing mission xy-needs-new-specs. So this is the story of how I became the owner of a pair of mainstream, hippy, wide-framed, tortoise-shell spectacles.
But I knew I had to get a pair of new specs anyway, because I wanted to look more presentable in my trip to China for a couple of weeks. It has been four years since I went back to visit my relatives, and I missed two weddings and one family road trip in the process, thanks but no thanks to the need to remain near school during most of the holidays.
Going to China will always have a special place in my heart. As a first generation Singaporean, I have spent my entire life and developed my own identity based on this little red dot. Despite the special circumstances where I speak (rapid) Chinese at home, and never ever add any Dodo fishcakes, cheese tofu or chicken cheese balls in my homemade steamboats (God forbid, we add entire bunches of parsley into our boiling soup;) I know that the equally interesting situations where I didnt get a distinction in my Higher Chinese Os or having never actually read/ memorised any legit Chinese novels are a testament to how I have grown up in a culture different from my parents. Still, I deeply treasure the ties I have with my relatives back home and I know that they will always dote on me as their granddaughter or niece.
There's something about China that whether I like to admit it or not, had grown onto me. I'm not very sure if it is the zinc roofing, buildings that could use a fresh coat of paint, or the 11-digit phone numbers that somehow look a little scary when it is printed out in big and bold. I remember when I was walking through the a estate in Choa Chu Kang of my cousin's newly bought home, when I casually remarked, "this place smells like China." Now, you may think that I caught a whiff of the Sembcorp truck, but I realised afterward it was because there were people smoking in the void deck. Somehow, the lingering smell of cigarette smoke in the air has been subconsciously wired to the thought of China in my head.
Just like how mantou has joined my family, my relatives have also taken in a number of furry kids into their home. They are so attached to their dogs that my aunt specially stays behind during CNY while the rest of the family return to our hometown just to accompany and feed them. Perhaps, taking care of animals seem to be a natural progression from the void of children who are all grown-up, married and all.
Having roots in an inland province mean that it is always customary for us to cover up to 1,000km by train. I remember I first went on this journey when I was six, the trains were powered by steam and it took a day and night to reach our destination. My brother was only two then, and how our parents contained two kids in a cramped train space, I will never know. Now, China has its own high-speed rail and the same journey is now shortened to just three hours, though the steam train is far from being phased out as it is still the most affordable form of commode for the majority of the working class, who most require travelling to the more developed provinces for economic opportunities.
In hunan, the temperature was much cooler and it almost became too much for my tropical skin to handle. There are certain things that are extremely comforting, and I guess they stem from an appreciation of warmth during the harshness of the cold. Back at home, my family has long stopped boiling water in a kettle, and has opted for a water dispenser which my parents argued is more cost-effective in the long term considering the cost of gas for the amount of water yielded per kettle. While this means convenience, I almost forgot how much better a cup of tea can taste when it is made from piping hot water with visible wisps of steam. And of course, albeit laden with lard, nothing beats the deliciousness of home-cooked food from my grandparents.
I went on this trip as a (growing, angsty?) teenager and I definitely carried with me the philosophies I have developed in the recent years. This is really the first time I visited my relatives as someone who is much more aware and with an understanding of people or the issues of the world. Where I used to view my family through rose-tinted glasses, I realised there is more to what meets the eye. There are very real family conflicts going on, which I was unaware of as I lived 4 hours away by plane (and also because "kids" ought not to "meddle in adult affairs",) there is history that's hard to swallow, and for the first time in my life I came face-to-face with the notion that my grandfather is going to die. Death is an inevitable end to every life. But it hit me harder than it should have when I thought of my own grandfather. I am selfish, I am human. There is a certain elusiveness to the feeling of having your mind and heart opened at the same time. For that, I know I love my family, and I will remember my relatives always - even if I do not see them every day.
I spent two weeks in China - where I visited relatives in the first week, and went to play in the second. My parents have departed for SG and left my brother and I to travel free-and-easy with my cousins. It is with great spontaneity that they decided to bring us to Guilin. The moment my cousin discussed that with me, I was shrieking because I shit you not. Guilin was an extensive example for karst landforms and given that I am a geography nerd, I can already hear the rolling limestone hills of Guilin calling out my name. I don't memorise thousands of words in a essay about your formation only to miss a chance to visit you, babe.
These pictures were taken on acommercialised tourist trap hill (象鼻山) in Guilin, where the stone steps were so steep I thought I might really loose a footing and die, also with the beautiful golden leaves in the last shreds of fall.
On the 3 hour boat ride to Yangshuo, where I saw conical hills in the vast horizon. They are exactly what I envisioned them to be. The geog nerd in me sighed in satisfaction and plunged off the boat into the Lijiang river. I know it did. Mother nature is amazing.
Ultimately, this post is very summarised piece on what went on in China, and it does not do justice to the enormity of the emotions I felt and lessons I gleaned. Some bits are precious and I will have to keep it within me. I know, that in choosing to visit China, a part of me has changed forever. And I can't wait to uncover the gems of this great place, of my roots and my multi-culture upbringing, in the remaining years of my life.
x
Somehow in the four days following the end of As, I managed to muster the energy needed to crawl out of my humble abode and make a new pair of spectacles for myself. I met Shanice at the spectacle shop because I value her fashion advice, and not because she happens to live nearby. We (together with a very friendly sales assistant who we later found out was a super nightlife person) actually spent more than an hour completing mission xy-needs-new-specs. So this is the story of how I became the owner of a pair of mainstream, hippy, wide-framed, tortoise-shell spectacles.
But I knew I had to get a pair of new specs anyway, because I wanted to look more presentable in my trip to China for a couple of weeks. It has been four years since I went back to visit my relatives, and I missed two weddings and one family road trip in the process, thanks but no thanks to the need to remain near school during most of the holidays.
Going to China will always have a special place in my heart. As a first generation Singaporean, I have spent my entire life and developed my own identity based on this little red dot. Despite the special circumstances where I speak (rapid) Chinese at home, and never ever add any Dodo fishcakes, cheese tofu or chicken cheese balls in my homemade steamboats (God forbid, we add entire bunches of parsley into our boiling soup;) I know that the equally interesting situations where I didnt get a distinction in my Higher Chinese Os or having never actually read/ memorised any legit Chinese novels are a testament to how I have grown up in a culture different from my parents. Still, I deeply treasure the ties I have with my relatives back home and I know that they will always dote on me as their granddaughter or niece.
There's something about China that whether I like to admit it or not, had grown onto me. I'm not very sure if it is the zinc roofing, buildings that could use a fresh coat of paint, or the 11-digit phone numbers that somehow look a little scary when it is printed out in big and bold. I remember when I was walking through the a estate in Choa Chu Kang of my cousin's newly bought home, when I casually remarked, "this place smells like China." Now, you may think that I caught a whiff of the Sembcorp truck, but I realised afterward it was because there were people smoking in the void deck. Somehow, the lingering smell of cigarette smoke in the air has been subconsciously wired to the thought of China in my head.
Just like how mantou has joined my family, my relatives have also taken in a number of furry kids into their home. They are so attached to their dogs that my aunt specially stays behind during CNY while the rest of the family return to our hometown just to accompany and feed them. Perhaps, taking care of animals seem to be a natural progression from the void of children who are all grown-up, married and all.
In hunan, the temperature was much cooler and it almost became too much for my tropical skin to handle. There are certain things that are extremely comforting, and I guess they stem from an appreciation of warmth during the harshness of the cold. Back at home, my family has long stopped boiling water in a kettle, and has opted for a water dispenser which my parents argued is more cost-effective in the long term considering the cost of gas for the amount of water yielded per kettle. While this means convenience, I almost forgot how much better a cup of tea can taste when it is made from piping hot water with visible wisps of steam. And of course, albeit laden with lard, nothing beats the deliciousness of home-cooked food from my grandparents.
I went on this trip as a (growing, angsty?) teenager and I definitely carried with me the philosophies I have developed in the recent years. This is really the first time I visited my relatives as someone who is much more aware and with an understanding of people or the issues of the world. Where I used to view my family through rose-tinted glasses, I realised there is more to what meets the eye. There are very real family conflicts going on, which I was unaware of as I lived 4 hours away by plane (and also because "kids" ought not to "meddle in adult affairs",) there is history that's hard to swallow, and for the first time in my life I came face-to-face with the notion that my grandfather is going to die. Death is an inevitable end to every life. But it hit me harder than it should have when I thought of my own grandfather. I am selfish, I am human. There is a certain elusiveness to the feeling of having your mind and heart opened at the same time. For that, I know I love my family, and I will remember my relatives always - even if I do not see them every day.
I spent two weeks in China - where I visited relatives in the first week, and went to play in the second. My parents have departed for SG and left my brother and I to travel free-and-easy with my cousins. It is with great spontaneity that they decided to bring us to Guilin. The moment my cousin discussed that with me, I was shrieking because I shit you not. Guilin was an extensive example for karst landforms and given that I am a geography nerd, I can already hear the rolling limestone hills of Guilin calling out my name. I don't memorise thousands of words in a essay about your formation only to miss a chance to visit you, babe.
These pictures were taken on a
On the 3 hour boat ride to Yangshuo, where I saw conical hills in the vast horizon. They are exactly what I envisioned them to be. The geog nerd in me sighed in satisfaction and plunged off the boat into the Lijiang river. I know it did. Mother nature is amazing.
Ultimately, this post is very summarised piece on what went on in China, and it does not do justice to the enormity of the emotions I felt and lessons I gleaned. Some bits are precious and I will have to keep it within me. I know, that in choosing to visit China, a part of me has changed forever. And I can't wait to uncover the gems of this great place, of my roots and my multi-culture upbringing, in the remaining years of my life.
x
Sunday, October 23, 2016
Thoughts on no. 10 Tanjong Rhu Road
My parents were not familiar with the local school system, though they knew some brand names here and there, they were understanding and supportive and never pressured me into anything (except, well, to do my best.) Therefore in a very unlikely situation not experienced by most of my peers, my biggest source of influence then turned out to be my tuition teacher. My teacher is a kind and patient man who taught me since primary 3. As I sought for his advice, he told me earnestly to consider Dunman High as he believed in the school's emphasis on character development, and how he felt that it will provide a more condusive environment than the top schools that have a reputation for breeding elitism. I believe the focus here shouldn't be on slamming other schools - if so you're totally missing the point - he actually said that to a 12-year-old who never noticed throughout her primary school life that her spectacles were always too low on her nose ridge. Did I even understand half of what he said?
Nonetheless, I took his words seriously. Although I did consider a number of schools, his frequent mentioning of Dunman High kind of rubbed off on me, and piqued my interest on the school a lot. I dragged my mum to open house - we didn't even have D'Carn then, mind you. We were given a card with six grids which required us to reach six checkpoints while completing a school tour. I exchanged my stamped card for a dark green towel with the school crest embroidered on it. I visited the CCA booths in the hall and the seniors at the choir booth gave me two leaf-shaped cutouts of thin foam sheets, with my name written on it in fat marker. What did that have to do with choir? I remember how one of the seniors at the booth encouraged me to try out for an audition, and how the people manning the booth were so warm and welcoming. As compared to what we had in the following years, school was probably bare and unhappening on that open house day in 2010, but I was absolutely sold. Somehow, something about the campus and its people compelled my (simple) mind towards Dunman High.
Afterward, I would google the school on google maps and try to find it on street view (taking virtual tours was so the in thing then, and Mountbatten MRT station was still a concrete mess on the photo stitched together by the google car), or that I would flip to the school's page on the secondary school guide so many times I lose count. Little did I know that six years later, I will still be holding onto the towel and choir programme booklet received that day, together with the programme booklets from every year that followed, more towels from different orientations that I went through, as well as a lifetime of memories.
Afterward, I would google the school on google maps and try to find it on street view (taking virtual tours was so the in thing then, and Mountbatten MRT station was still a concrete mess on the photo stitched together by the google car), or that I would flip to the school's page on the secondary school guide so many times I lose count. Little did I know that six years later, I will still be holding onto the towel and choir programme booklet received that day, together with the programme booklets from every year that followed, more towels from different orientations that I went through, as well as a lifetime of memories.
Sometimes I am still amazed by how I managed to get accepted into the school. I remember that day when I gingerly approached the Music Atrium for my audition, only to realise that I was supposed to prepare a choir piece beforehand (I found out from the girl before me who was holding her choir file and pacing up and down the aisle.) I remember as I entered that small music room and saw Mr Tay for the first time as he asked, "So what do you have for me today?" It would be somewhat inappropriate for me to say uh, whatever I remember form a song that I have not touched since I walked down the Victoria Concert Hall stage like four months ago, so instead I lamely blurted out "Let There Be Peace On Earth, I think..." Mr Tay's eyes would flash of familiarity as he muses, "Blimey! That's a classic and well-known piece."
I would pray so hard for the ground to swallow me up then. I totally could have went with the obscure Japanese piece instead. To be honest, if I have a chance to travel back in time and listen to my singing, I am very sure that I might have single-handedly destroyed any peace left on Mother Earth. Thank God Mr Tay decided that an exorcism of the music room could wait, as he went on with the aural tests. When I was released, I remember walking out the Atrium with my mum thinking that that did not go well at all, and suddenly Mr Tay was running after me shouting, "Wait! What piano grade did you say you have again?" which I'm sure was a euphemistic expression for "did u say u learnt music b4 but still gave me dat kind of performance lolololers".
Sometime later, my parents will debate over whether or not to show me my acceptance letter which they have kindly intercepted. On results day, I was still very nervous, and it was eventually let known that I scored just slightly above the aggregate for that year. Even though my scores did not surpass the 260 mark, it was a cherry on top knowing that I made it not only with my skills and also my own academic effort.
Coming into DHS, the school gave me a lot of experiences which challenged me and made us all grow up from immature 12-year-olds to the young adults today.
Life was pretty good at the start. I was still that small, puny classmate and all my friends associated me with the word "cute" (totally in the physical and not characteristic sense.) Exams were manageable, and I got to know many of my classmates as time passed. We had a lot of stupid fun at the Kallang skating rink, watching movies on class outings, doing history homework on the bed, eating french fries dipped into vanilla cone at Kallang McDees. I do know that these are just innocent fun by naive youngsters who have barely grasped the complexities of priorities, expectations, and sense of purpose in our education. But I do believe that those days were worry-free for a reason, because only while we are young are we allowed to not give a damn without riding out the consequences.
Therefore, life was not a bed of roses for very long. I had my first "boyfriend". There, I said (wrote) it. I never told anyone. It's in inverted commas because I still think I was far too young to take this relationships thing seriously (not based on what I have thought of it to be as an 18-year-old, I suppose) and obviously I didn't think it was for real. I can't even remember how we actually got together. And the whole time we were together, we didn't even go out or what - we just always took 158, the whole length from school to the old Serangoon bus interchange. Honestly, I don't know why this part of my life exists. I don't think I could have withstood the pressure of "omg, she's dating a year 4?!"
Whether I like it or not, he (and the hurricane he carried) forced me to grow up from this point in time. Though it wasn't love, it was still something, and it was enough to make me feel guilty about doing all these behind my parents. I know I was really distracted by it, maybe I started caring more about my appearance, and I know I really screwed up my studies in the easiest leg of my school life. Top it all, there were some really nasty things going on in our relationship. His best friend burnt bridges with me for reasons beyond my comprehension, turns out he himself also kind of unloaded some emotional problems onto me when I said I wanted out - you know, it's probably a weird mess because I was simply just a year 1. Today, we are friends again. But I wonder how much of the past we have simply swept under the carpet, and I wonder if he knew he kinda changed my life forever.
By time year 2 rolled by, I experienced turbulent times again. I never realized how much emotional turmoil friendship problems can cause until it happened. Truthfully, those times were hard because I constantly questioned what was wrong with me, my values and my personality, and that... I trust her so much. I understand if the me then was simple-minded in her thoughts and immature in her actions. What I didn't was that I never had any malicious intent, neither have I talked about others' behind their back; yet the people I trusted the most turned against me, and people I did not expect became my strongest pillars. Whatever happened to me wasn't retributive, but somewhat intentional, and that hurt a lot.
I'd say that those times of turmoil were pivoting events which changed me. Fortunately, life allowed a smooth parting of ways as I channeled all my time and energy into grasping all the opportunities into making my school life worthwhile instead. Some people leaped on the chance when they were fresh students, but I started to pay more attention into academics and CCA only later. Given a chance to remake choices in my life, I don't think I would let life take its course any other way. Granted, it can allow me to erase bad memories. But I am glad that if I did spend my days in a blur, I spend those days in year 1 when everything was significantly less critical, for the misgivings I had early on had a subsequent impact on how I managed my decisions and pathways in later years. It allowed me to become a more conscious human being to my class, family and community.
It then became my personal belief to make sure that I will not leave school without any regrets. In many ways, year 3 and 4 were great years - I received the best set of results in my 6 years of school life, and I was very humbled to have been given opportunities to lead the CCA, to explore my interests, to try out (scarily) new experiences.
Those were times when I was challenged endlessly. Times in choir wasn't smooth and I had year ones who began to openly hate the CCA under our administration. Their offhand comments on hating to come for CCA sessions were daggers to my heart. It's hard not to but I always blamed myself for their receptiveness (/lack thereof) towards choir sessions. If I did my best and they still hated it, then it must mean that I haven't done good enough, right? I admit, I did let their lack of approval get to the better of me. It was too easy to blame them for being immature and childish, the real problem must be us, we are too strict, we are are reeking of unpleasantness, we are making everything repetitive and boring, we were too this, we were too that... right? I remember constantly being at the edge my seat waiting for their reaction toward choir activities, that for half of year four I never ate lunch before 1.45 pm Friday practices because I was too nervous about how practice will turn out, and partly because I wanted to change their (supposedly bad) image of their seniors by turning up the earliest and setting everything up before the rest arrived. I never realised what over-worrying did to me until I went through costume check that year and to my horror, found the gown I've always worn a size too big for me. I never realised, until my friends began to let me know how unhealthy my train of thought became. It took awhile, but we eventually found the resolve that we have today. Yes, some of them became good friends of mine later on. :)
Those were times of unbelievable tiredness. Especially when senior high came by, academics suddenly became so much tougher than we can expect. DESU grades were all but common, and the sciences became so tough for me to handle. I remember when I misjudged my time preparing for my first exams and in my race against time I really, truly, majestically pengsan-ed as I realised the teachers were not kidding when they said you cannot do last-minute cramming in SH. Then I somehow overdid preparations as I became so lethargic from pulling 12-14 hour mugging marathons. There was this day when I suffered a nosebleed in the middle of a Bio lecture and went to the toilet to wait it out except that, well, it kind of never stopped flowing. I remember Xin Min and I idling in the toilet as blood kept dripping out of my nose for an hour. Mr Low even waited it out with me at the sick bay as he took all the effort to kneel down in front of me so that he could conveniently pass me squares of tissue paper as I sat with my head bowed. (I laugh as I think of it, it was so awkward to have a teacher kneeling in front of you because that can't be acceptable in about twenty-five universes. He was so visibly nervous because he had never seen that much bloodied tissue in his life. Also he kindly informed me that I might be dying when I started to pass clots as big as the size of my thumb.)
Even in year 6, things did not get better, and might have taken a turn for the worst. Yeah I broke down in school. That day, I was even more aggravated by the fact that I could not be at ease with myself, because I felt like a hypocrite. For believing that results are not everything and hard work will pay off in the longer road, yet it seemed like I gave more than a damn to the superficial. I decided to resolve that not as times when I surrendered, rather it was just a lot of stress pent up from a long, long time. I thank the heavens that I met Mrs Bok who straight-up told me I was weak for easily caving in to my triggers, but in the most caring way, aptly told me that I should get out of school immediately, buy something I like to eat on the way home, and not touch anything related to A-levels for two days.
Those were years when I learnt more about myself. On one fine day when Ms Tham did voice training with the year three batch as the juniors had other school activities, she singled me out, told me that she has noticed my unsightly out-jutting chin for years and held my head in place. In that moment, it seemed like the planets aligned as I made sounds that even shocked myself. That was when I found my choir voice, and it is a personal moment that I will fold into a origami and tuck into the cavities of my heart forever. As a under-performer (methinks), it made me feel like three years of tough times in choir did not go to waste, and more importantly it translated into lessons of resilience and responsibility. I had the chance to perform at Esplanade Concert Hall, I went on a science trip to Taiwan where I skinned a whole lab rat, I went on tour with Choir where I carried the trust of Ms Tham and the choir for a solo line in cold, faraway night in Hong Kong. I found my interest in politics and current affairs as I started taking an interest in world history and news, and broke into the MUN circuit. I never thought highly of my curiosity in contemporary issues and debating skills until I accidentally did well in GP. In JH, I was always a mediocre student in my class of level-topping english literature students, so to have my language being regarded as "good" came as a shocker to me. Making me begin to think of studying law in the future - not even set in stone, but I'll try, and who knows?
Those years, I had the best memories. Going for SYF after failing my first auditions as a year 1. Going for SYF with SH Choir and beating all the odds against us by getting a distinction. (Honestly, I was more impressed we met the 6.30am meeting time.) Going for a geography competition where we sang choir songs, cut pieces of wood with a flimsy saw, make mini-trees, sing lion king to my dog and chomp down pizza as we realise we are screwed over time, rushed our work till almost midnight... and won 2nd placing. When school throws so much shit at you that you either become very creative or lazy in generating gift ideas that you come up with incredibly retarded ideas like a cabbage, a basket of apples, a large inflatable ball, gummy bears in milo dino, what. Lying in the middle of the field at 8.30pm when we all admitted defeat at the end of Prelims. Having a 10-people strong SH choir batch and 18-man choir who I know will have my back forever.
Time changes everything, even you and I have changed. Funnily enough, it was toward the end of my school life that past wounds began to surface and I faced the unfamiliar notion of forgiveness. Two very different characters who did things I could not fathom yet only time has taught me, neither did they. I was surprised to say the least, I realised that they too held onto the past, except that I always thought that they had forgot about me in their lives. I have long lived out the hurt, and I only wish that they would have moved on as well.
In recent times, the school has rolled out many changes, and I must admit that even I joined Team Skeptics. Decisions were seemingly profit-driven in nature, suggesting that corporate image and publicity were more important than values we used to hold dear. Two viral articles condemning what the decisions of the school. General dissatisfaction all around. Some decisions did impact me a lot as a student in that it drastically reduced my enjoyment in school events, some that were personally very important to me like my last choir concert in DHS. But let's be real, there was nothing we could have done to change the course of events. We are a stakeholder of the school but we are all but a stakeholder. Perhaps, if these string of events taught me anything, it would be that many things in life will go against how we planned it all out to be and we will never have a choice. It is up to us if we wanted to wallow in what could have been, or work around the constrains and make things as good as it could be.
Dunman High gave me many things. She gave me a lot of facilities that we were so blessed to have in our education. She gave us the best canteen vendors who were so friendly and sold the meanest 八毛 milo, salmon don and Ah Ma rice. Operations uncle who would use their keys to open the front gate so that you don't have to take the long way to the side gate. Printing shop aunties who efficiently photocopied so many things for us. Teachers who taught me more than their academic subjects. Choir who in summary convinced me that I will join a choir for as long as I can breathe. ISAC who gave me some of my most stressful event-management experiences that has stretched me immensely. Friends who I know I can count on to buy insurance from me when I call them out of the blue 30 years later. (Right? RIGHT?) People who constantly told me I am worthy when I felt that I was never good enough. People who believed in me, even when I did not believe in myself.
These are lessons that I will carry with me always. As we move on from this safe haven, I feel more uncertain than ever, but I feel stronger than ever too.
On October 14, I became an alumnus of Dunman High School. I must say, from a kiddy 11-year-old to an angsty, groning, difficult 18-year-old, I really found a home in 10 Tanjong Rhu Road.
I would pray so hard for the ground to swallow me up then. I totally could have went with the obscure Japanese piece instead. To be honest, if I have a chance to travel back in time and listen to my singing, I am very sure that I might have single-handedly destroyed any peace left on Mother Earth. Thank God Mr Tay decided that an exorcism of the music room could wait, as he went on with the aural tests. When I was released, I remember walking out the Atrium with my mum thinking that that did not go well at all, and suddenly Mr Tay was running after me shouting, "Wait! What piano grade did you say you have again?" which I'm sure was a euphemistic expression for "did u say u learnt music b4 but still gave me dat kind of performance lolololers".
Sometime later, my parents will debate over whether or not to show me my acceptance letter which they have kindly intercepted. On results day, I was still very nervous, and it was eventually let known that I scored just slightly above the aggregate for that year. Even though my scores did not surpass the 260 mark, it was a cherry on top knowing that I made it not only with my skills and also my own academic effort.
Coming into DHS, the school gave me a lot of experiences which challenged me and made us all grow up from immature 12-year-olds to the young adults today.
Life was pretty good at the start. I was still that small, puny classmate and all my friends associated me with the word "cute" (totally in the physical and not characteristic sense.) Exams were manageable, and I got to know many of my classmates as time passed. We had a lot of stupid fun at the Kallang skating rink, watching movies on class outings, doing history homework on the bed, eating french fries dipped into vanilla cone at Kallang McDees. I do know that these are just innocent fun by naive youngsters who have barely grasped the complexities of priorities, expectations, and sense of purpose in our education. But I do believe that those days were worry-free for a reason, because only while we are young are we allowed to not give a damn without riding out the consequences.
Therefore, life was not a bed of roses for very long. I had my first "boyfriend". There, I said (wrote) it. I never told anyone. It's in inverted commas because I still think I was far too young to take this relationships thing seriously (not based on what I have thought of it to be as an 18-year-old, I suppose) and obviously I didn't think it was for real. I can't even remember how we actually got together. And the whole time we were together, we didn't even go out or what - we just always took 158, the whole length from school to the old Serangoon bus interchange. Honestly, I don't know why this part of my life exists. I don't think I could have withstood the pressure of "omg, she's dating a year 4?!"
Whether I like it or not, he (and the hurricane he carried) forced me to grow up from this point in time. Though it wasn't love, it was still something, and it was enough to make me feel guilty about doing all these behind my parents. I know I was really distracted by it, maybe I started caring more about my appearance, and I know I really screwed up my studies in the easiest leg of my school life. Top it all, there were some really nasty things going on in our relationship. His best friend burnt bridges with me for reasons beyond my comprehension, turns out he himself also kind of unloaded some emotional problems onto me when I said I wanted out - you know, it's probably a weird mess because I was simply just a year 1. Today, we are friends again. But I wonder how much of the past we have simply swept under the carpet, and I wonder if he knew he kinda changed my life forever.
By time year 2 rolled by, I experienced turbulent times again. I never realized how much emotional turmoil friendship problems can cause until it happened. Truthfully, those times were hard because I constantly questioned what was wrong with me, my values and my personality, and that... I trust her so much. I understand if the me then was simple-minded in her thoughts and immature in her actions. What I didn't was that I never had any malicious intent, neither have I talked about others' behind their back; yet the people I trusted the most turned against me, and people I did not expect became my strongest pillars. Whatever happened to me wasn't retributive, but somewhat intentional, and that hurt a lot.
I'd say that those times of turmoil were pivoting events which changed me. Fortunately, life allowed a smooth parting of ways as I channeled all my time and energy into grasping all the opportunities into making my school life worthwhile instead. Some people leaped on the chance when they were fresh students, but I started to pay more attention into academics and CCA only later. Given a chance to remake choices in my life, I don't think I would let life take its course any other way. Granted, it can allow me to erase bad memories. But I am glad that if I did spend my days in a blur, I spend those days in year 1 when everything was significantly less critical, for the misgivings I had early on had a subsequent impact on how I managed my decisions and pathways in later years. It allowed me to become a more conscious human being to my class, family and community.
It then became my personal belief to make sure that I will not leave school without any regrets. In many ways, year 3 and 4 were great years - I received the best set of results in my 6 years of school life, and I was very humbled to have been given opportunities to lead the CCA, to explore my interests, to try out (scarily) new experiences.
Those were times when I was challenged endlessly. Times in choir wasn't smooth and I had year ones who began to openly hate the CCA under our administration. Their offhand comments on hating to come for CCA sessions were daggers to my heart. It's hard not to but I always blamed myself for their receptiveness (/lack thereof) towards choir sessions. If I did my best and they still hated it, then it must mean that I haven't done good enough, right? I admit, I did let their lack of approval get to the better of me. It was too easy to blame them for being immature and childish, the real problem must be us, we are too strict, we are are reeking of unpleasantness, we are making everything repetitive and boring, we were too this, we were too that... right? I remember constantly being at the edge my seat waiting for their reaction toward choir activities, that for half of year four I never ate lunch before 1.45 pm Friday practices because I was too nervous about how practice will turn out, and partly because I wanted to change their (supposedly bad) image of their seniors by turning up the earliest and setting everything up before the rest arrived. I never realised what over-worrying did to me until I went through costume check that year and to my horror, found the gown I've always worn a size too big for me. I never realised, until my friends began to let me know how unhealthy my train of thought became. It took awhile, but we eventually found the resolve that we have today. Yes, some of them became good friends of mine later on. :)
Those were times of unbelievable tiredness. Especially when senior high came by, academics suddenly became so much tougher than we can expect. DESU grades were all but common, and the sciences became so tough for me to handle. I remember when I misjudged my time preparing for my first exams and in my race against time I really, truly, majestically pengsan-ed as I realised the teachers were not kidding when they said you cannot do last-minute cramming in SH. Then I somehow overdid preparations as I became so lethargic from pulling 12-14 hour mugging marathons. There was this day when I suffered a nosebleed in the middle of a Bio lecture and went to the toilet to wait it out except that, well, it kind of never stopped flowing. I remember Xin Min and I idling in the toilet as blood kept dripping out of my nose for an hour. Mr Low even waited it out with me at the sick bay as he took all the effort to kneel down in front of me so that he could conveniently pass me squares of tissue paper as I sat with my head bowed. (I laugh as I think of it, it was so awkward to have a teacher kneeling in front of you because that can't be acceptable in about twenty-five universes. He was so visibly nervous because he had never seen that much bloodied tissue in his life. Also he kindly informed me that I might be dying when I started to pass clots as big as the size of my thumb.)
Even in year 6, things did not get better, and might have taken a turn for the worst. Yeah I broke down in school. That day, I was even more aggravated by the fact that I could not be at ease with myself, because I felt like a hypocrite. For believing that results are not everything and hard work will pay off in the longer road, yet it seemed like I gave more than a damn to the superficial. I decided to resolve that not as times when I surrendered, rather it was just a lot of stress pent up from a long, long time. I thank the heavens that I met Mrs Bok who straight-up told me I was weak for easily caving in to my triggers, but in the most caring way, aptly told me that I should get out of school immediately, buy something I like to eat on the way home, and not touch anything related to A-levels for two days.
Those were years when I learnt more about myself. On one fine day when Ms Tham did voice training with the year three batch as the juniors had other school activities, she singled me out, told me that she has noticed my unsightly out-jutting chin for years and held my head in place. In that moment, it seemed like the planets aligned as I made sounds that even shocked myself. That was when I found my choir voice, and it is a personal moment that I will fold into a origami and tuck into the cavities of my heart forever. As a under-performer (methinks), it made me feel like three years of tough times in choir did not go to waste, and more importantly it translated into lessons of resilience and responsibility. I had the chance to perform at Esplanade Concert Hall, I went on a science trip to Taiwan where I skinned a whole lab rat, I went on tour with Choir where I carried the trust of Ms Tham and the choir for a solo line in cold, faraway night in Hong Kong. I found my interest in politics and current affairs as I started taking an interest in world history and news, and broke into the MUN circuit. I never thought highly of my curiosity in contemporary issues and debating skills until I accidentally did well in GP. In JH, I was always a mediocre student in my class of level-topping english literature students, so to have my language being regarded as "good" came as a shocker to me. Making me begin to think of studying law in the future - not even set in stone, but I'll try, and who knows?
Those years, I had the best memories. Going for SYF after failing my first auditions as a year 1. Going for SYF with SH Choir and beating all the odds against us by getting a distinction. (Honestly, I was more impressed we met the 6.30am meeting time.) Going for a geography competition where we sang choir songs, cut pieces of wood with a flimsy saw, make mini-trees, sing lion king to my dog and chomp down pizza as we realise we are screwed over time, rushed our work till almost midnight... and won 2nd placing. When school throws so much shit at you that you either become very creative or lazy in generating gift ideas that you come up with incredibly retarded ideas like a cabbage, a basket of apples, a large inflatable ball, gummy bears in milo dino, what. Lying in the middle of the field at 8.30pm when we all admitted defeat at the end of Prelims. Having a 10-people strong SH choir batch and 18-man choir who I know will have my back forever.
Time changes everything, even you and I have changed. Funnily enough, it was toward the end of my school life that past wounds began to surface and I faced the unfamiliar notion of forgiveness. Two very different characters who did things I could not fathom yet only time has taught me, neither did they. I was surprised to say the least, I realised that they too held onto the past, except that I always thought that they had forgot about me in their lives. I have long lived out the hurt, and I only wish that they would have moved on as well.
In recent times, the school has rolled out many changes, and I must admit that even I joined Team Skeptics. Decisions were seemingly profit-driven in nature, suggesting that corporate image and publicity were more important than values we used to hold dear. Two viral articles condemning what the decisions of the school. General dissatisfaction all around. Some decisions did impact me a lot as a student in that it drastically reduced my enjoyment in school events, some that were personally very important to me like my last choir concert in DHS. But let's be real, there was nothing we could have done to change the course of events. We are a stakeholder of the school but we are all but a stakeholder. Perhaps, if these string of events taught me anything, it would be that many things in life will go against how we planned it all out to be and we will never have a choice. It is up to us if we wanted to wallow in what could have been, or work around the constrains and make things as good as it could be.
Dunman High gave me many things. She gave me a lot of facilities that we were so blessed to have in our education. She gave us the best canteen vendors who were so friendly and sold the meanest 八毛 milo, salmon don and Ah Ma rice. Operations uncle who would use their keys to open the front gate so that you don't have to take the long way to the side gate. Printing shop aunties who efficiently photocopied so many things for us. Teachers who taught me more than their academic subjects. Choir who in summary convinced me that I will join a choir for as long as I can breathe. ISAC who gave me some of my most stressful event-management experiences that has stretched me immensely. Friends who I know I can count on to buy insurance from me when I call them out of the blue 30 years later. (Right? RIGHT?) People who constantly told me I am worthy when I felt that I was never good enough. People who believed in me, even when I did not believe in myself.
These are lessons that I will carry with me always. As we move on from this safe haven, I feel more uncertain than ever, but I feel stronger than ever too.
On October 14, I became an alumnus of Dunman High School. I must say, from a kiddy 11-year-old to an angsty, groning, difficult 18-year-old, I really found a home in 10 Tanjong Rhu Road.
Friday, September 30, 2016
Little forest
Hello world! So much has happened since I came on here. I last wrote here during the March holidays, and tomorrow marks the first day of October.
In retrospect, the past half a year was filled with laughter, fondness, lethargy, tears, and even I was not spared from the brutalities of time. In the past half a year so much has changed in my life, and I really meant to have updated my growth in this space but I have been busy (then, lazy during my free time). Some chapters of my life closed, emotions reached new extremes that I have never experienced, practical realities became more apparent, and my relationships with some of my friends, family and God were strengthened, while bridges were burnt in others. Now that I type it all out and lay it in front of my eyes, it seems like I have been through volumes in a short amount of time, except that I don't know if I did anything which made me deserving of any affirmation, actually.
I somewhat regret not coming to this space often enough to update each event as they have came and went in my life. You know, we as students have been warned time and again to keep up with our work or risk a "snowball effect" - I feel the same, in that I have a backlog of experiences that I have yet to draft. It is extremely regretful because the longer the time lapse in between the conclusion of these literary chapters in my life, the more details I will forget which I cannot capture in my words any longer. My biggest fear in life is to make the same mistake twice, because we already have so little time on earth, it should not be wasted on pretending one that one has not grown at all.
As I type this out, the countdown towards A Levels stand at a little less than 37 days. A year ago, 37 days to A Levels was unimaginable to me, and I imagined this period of time to be a time of nervousness and anxiety. If given the chance, I'll tell myself that it's anything but. I have come to the realization that the A Levels is actually boring. The aforementioned statement makes me sound snobbish, but I am not an academically-gifted genius at all. The syllabus are set, and we learn a content within boundaries, with the same kind of underlying concepts no matter how questions are twisted. My past self was scared because I have yet to learn enough (and get exposed enough via practices) but with time, paper after paper, and a pattern begins to surface. This means that we are prepared in the same way in the form of regular assessments. Three major exams in a year later, I have finally understood why my seniors were calm before their paper while I was scared shitless for them. Theoretically, it was because they got used to it after all that drilling. It taught them how to overcome the marathon-like nature of the exam schedule with the expected rigour so that they were the least bit nervous as possible. The only thing most people have to make sure, is that they do not run out of gas before the journey is completed.
Yet in reality, like many things in life, the cause-and-effect of things are multi-faceted. It is easy to conclude that no one is having a full-on meltdown at this instant because we, tragically, got used to it, but as a student I felt that there is much more to that. The recent conclusion of the Preliminary examinations made me see exasperation, fear and cynicism as common sentiment from the ground. Yes, some of the papers were completely messed up, but I really fear for the future of us as a human race the way some people are letting the way these exams turned out to take over their lives. Most teachers have reassured the batch that prelims are a time to see marked improvement, so a difficult paper went contrary to the hope that that particular advice gave to some people, and as a result some gave up. Some also saw this as the last opportunity to get things right before the final national battle, so poor results here is as if a destiny scroll reflecting the actual, for real, exams. People get used to the grinding and grueling nature of preparing for a high-stake exam, among those who struggle some find that they have no choice but to just walk into it and out, and I pray that such a time is not marred by emotional turmoil.
My last paper during prelims was Biology paper 1. As the paper was collected, all I felt was cold, and maybe a small urge to pee. But one of the teachers stood in the path between me, my three weeks of sleep debt and the door as he whipped out the mike upon the formal conclusion of the paper, and said: "Ok, I want you all to take a minute to reflect on the whole prelim experience." Wow. Head desk. Incessant teenager grumbles and scornful laughter. (This was followed by a demand for five students, one from each class, to share their thoughts. I am shook.) Though the experience was initially faced by classic teenage skepticism, in hindsight, I do realise why there was a need to treat that exercise seriously. The whole sharing processes showcased pretty real (but somewhat nonsensical) reflections like "I learnt that it is extremely important to check for the start time of your papers" or "It is beneficial to relieve yourself in the toilet before the paper begins", it was symbolic to be asked that question on the last day of our prelim exams. I admit, even my first thought was also that I deserved a break for at least a day. But this isn't just any post-exams break - it was actually a final launching pad to the real deal just 30 over days later, and honestly, I felt that the teachers have every right to be a cockblock by reminding us that we should not become too relaxed over this break. Instead, rest a little to get the relevant recharge, and we really ought not to lose our studying momentum or stamina in this crucial period.
In the time that freed up over the past few days, I scrolled though my past posts and found that many of my posts in JC were all about academics. Having almost experienced the two years for myself, with graduation rolling by only in two weeks, I have realised that yes, academics will and always be a cornerstone of JC, but that is purely because we are here to get an education. Day by day, we are exposed to the rigour of higher education, and the demands of life beyond school as a contributing member of society. Personally, I felt that it was up to us and our beliefs in order to find other indicators of self-worth in our time at school, which is why areas outside of studying hold varying extents of value to different individuals. There are accusations of hypocrisy at times: look at all these leaders saying that academics isn't the only thing which defines us, when every aspect of our society reflects a strong emphasis on academics. This debate on the priorities of our society will go on for as long as time will allow. The truth is, there will be an emphasis on academics, and I work hard as hell because I believe that the grades I attain will be a reflection of my efforts, and a reassurance to the rest of Singapore who invest in us that we will not waste any opportunities that we embark on. At the same time, the academics ought not to be anything more than a stepping stone. We are 18 and we actually no longer have any more guarantees in our life. Academic success, therefore, is no way a guarantee for relative success in our long lives.
I cannot emphasize further the importance of self-validation, as I have told some of my friends repeatedly. What we get out of our experiences is really how we perceive it. Firstly, the mindset that we are limitless, and even the most daunting of things (i.e. the societal emphasis on grades) can be overcome despite our shortcomings (i.e. my non-genius self). That must then be followed up with an conscious effort to keep up with that state of mind, and by that I mean work really hard. Let's be realistic, good things do not fall from the sky, and it will be difficult to get what we want because so many others will want it as well. What people then forget next is, we have goals and we work so hard toward it, but we do not (read: will never) have a smooth journey. There will be bumps and there will be failures deviating from the ideal. Does that mean we stop completely? Laugh it off, give yourself some credit, and pack your bags to walk again. As one of my (and the also the world's) favorite authors J.K. Rowling said: "If you are scared of failure, then you have failed by default."
Which is why I am really hoping to have some time to document my journey in my CCAs, Choir and ISAC (I have a long, long story about both), and general times of vulnerability I have experienced in the most volatile year of my school life. However, as I have already established, it is a little over a month to A Levels and anxiety by people around me are a sky-high, and I do not have a lot of time after work. I value these experiences as much, so I will really make sure I have time to record it down by the time graduation rolls by.
I am looking forward to life after the end of this looming national exams. Specifically, the eight (or more?) school-less months to discover oneself and get a glimpse of the world. I have a list of things I want to experience, and I am so excited for life beyond school. Not because it will be easier (frankly, it will only go uphill from here), but because it is infinitely more interesting, and that will be enough.
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