Category: Diary

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Diary

Summer Blog Episode 4 – I Am A Wallpaper

Year 2000, Kevin Bacon played the character of Hollow Man.  Being invisible, this fictional scientist takes full advantage of his new found ability doing stuffs that he would not be able to do, including spying on his female neighbor.  Rumor says that there is a deleted rape scene too.  The film prompted me to read “The Invisible Man” by H. G. Wells.  Imagine what I would do if I can be invisible.  Imagine what you would do.  That sense of invincibility.  Even if one perishes, no one knows (assuming that invisibility persists through death and beyond, which I recall according to the story, it is not the case).

The opposite of Hollow Man is not any one on the street, I think.  The opposite of being invincibly invisible is being visible but no one takes notice.  Like fading into the background or becoming a piece of everyday wallpaper that no one stops and takes notice.

One day, I went into a restaurant alone.  The staffs were busy doing the things they did.  I chose a seat in the middle of the restaurant.  Still, no one attended to me.  I stood up, picked up a menu nearby, returned to my seat, and started reading.  Quietly contemplated on what my lunch would be, I could not help but to observe that people around me were aware of my presence but liked a piece of wallpaper, I had faded onto the background.  Perhaps when the lunch hour was over, when the rest of the customers had eaten, paid, and gone, the staffs might notice someone siting in the middle of the restaurant reading a menu.  And they might wonder when did I step into the restaurant in the first place.  Or not.

It seems to me that the only time when we get to notice, examine, and appreciate the wallpaper is when the room is empty, newly renovated perhaps.

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A Comic Relief – Uh Huh … Say Hello To mioTV?

I love watching Formula One on TV, at home.  Getting another setup box because ESPN is moving back to SingTel this July is something I dread, but inevitable.  I suspect under the umbrella of mio Home – a bundle of land lines (yes, plural!), broadband, and television – I may have saved some money.  It took the super patience SingTel sales consultant at Bishan Junction 8 one full hour to explain to me how mio Home works.  Who says the SingTel service is bad?!  After that one hour fruitful session, Cynthia commented that both of us were like a broken record.  “F1 will be broadcast in mioTV?”  “Yes, F1 will be broadcast in mioTV.”  “You sure F1 will be broadcast in mioTV?”  “Yes, I am sure F1 will be broadcast in mioTV.”  “I am signing up for this only because of F1.”  “Really?  Just F1?”  “Really, just F1.  So you sure come this July I can watch F1 on mioTV?”  “Yes, F1 will be on mioTV.”  “This July?”  “Wait a minute please.  Let me check.”

OK.  At least he admitted that he was not that sure.  All that drilling was not going nowhere.

After what appeared like 10 minutes, this friendly SingTel sales consultant emerged from his office and produced a screen printout for me.  He said with a big smile, “This is not easy to come by!”.  And I wondered why.

I love working with sales and service consultants, face-to-face or on the phone.  I always picture them as someone cheerful, always eagers to help.  After my mioTV installation appointment was made, I needed to shift the morning session to afternoon.  No problem, the hotline said.  A few days later, I needed to shift the afternoon session back to morning.  Sorry sir, all fully booked – so said the hotline.  On the day itself, SingTel called me if I could shift the appointment to the morning.  Really, I kept my entire day free just for SingTel.  Of course you can.

There is one good thing coming out of this mioTV exercise.  The sales consultant was so helpful that upon further poked by me, I was informed that the promotional rate for my 3G mobile broadband add-on (30 GB) will be expired on July 2nd, this year.  It will be a hike from S$12.57 per month to S$39.99!  My oh my, how lucky I am to discover this than years later, when I would discover that I had been paying so much more per month for a much slower speed.  Like before.

July 2nd I will be out-of-town.  Can I sign up for another promotional deal for July 2nd onwards (S$13+ with a reduced quota of 10GB, a cap of S$39.99 a month – finally! – and the speed is increased from 1 Mbps to 7 Mbps!)?  Hot-line replied: Nope, because today is not July 2nd and you can only do it on July 2nd.  OK.  Great.  And I am told that to enjoy the promotional rate, I have to sign up online.  Are there any other ways?  Yes, the hot-line replied.  But I will have to pay S$1 extra per month in order to sign up via the sales consultant on the phone, instead of DIY via online.  This really makes sense.  Especially when I am out-of-town.

Fine.  I requested to terminate my 3G data plan from July 2nd onwards and will deal with it when I am back from my summer holiday.  How I love SingTel for prompting us to be alert and creative in solving problems.  All the so-called savings from mio Home bundle would have been wiped off by the silent hike of the 3G data price.

*     *     *     *    *

The duo who installed mioTV for me were fantastic.  101% service oriented, dramatic with a good sense of humor.  If there was a feedback form, I would have punched in 5-star rating for all categories.

Hours ahead of the scheduled appointment, this duo appeared at my doorsteps.  The Chinese guy had such a big pair of eyes and defined face line that I bet girls would melt seeing him.  After opening the phone socket at my living room near to my telephone, one guy got a shock.  Where was the 2nd line?!  The what?!  2nd line!  The Chinese guy turned the tracer on and the Malay guy (equally charming) went to the phone switch box outside of my apartment armed with this bizarre hand machine that emitted sound.  I suppose this futuristic device is to determine the phone signal without having to tap onto the physical wires.  How nice if the Matrix has incorporated this idea into the film.

“Is there a tone?” the Chinese guy would shout.  “No!” the Malay guy would reply.  The Chinese guy would switch to another bare wire and shouted out loud, “Is there a tone?”  “No!”  “How about this?”  “No!”  “And this?”  “NO!”.  “THIS?”  “NO!”. “THIS?”  “NO!”. “THIS?”  “NO!”. “THIS?”  “NO!”.

Déjà vu.  It was broken record once again.

“Where is the main wire?” asked the Chinese guy.  “Erm, I have no idea,” I replied.  Shortly, I realized that he was talking to himself.  Next, three of us – the good looking duo and I – were busy going round my apartment to hunt for that missing wire.  Later, after some detailed explanation from the Chinese guy, I understood that outside my home, there is a telephone cable that concealed 3 pairs of wires.  This cable goes underneath the floor outside my home, into my home, and emerges from a main socket somewhere.  And our job was to find out where.

As the hunting team combed through my apartment, I was busy concealing all the not too PG stuffs.  Like my used socks and what not.  One socket after another socket, we frown in disappointment.  Finally, we have located the source.  When we opened the case, it was empty!  The Chinese guy exclaimed, “The cable should come out from there!”.  “But there is nothing inside!” I replied in equal if not more enthusiasm and drama.  The duo stormed through my kitchen, through my storeroom, even went into the false ceilings of the bathrooms turning my house upside down.  I really give it to their positive work attitude.  After what appeared as a fruitless exercise, we concluded that the contractor who renovated my home back in 2000 must have forgotten to connect all six wires from the cable outside to my home inside.

What does that mean?

Well, my home could potentially support three telephone lines.  How SingTel has this vision that a tiny home like mine would need three telephone lines?  I do not know.  With mio Home, one phone line is dedicated to broadband Internet access shared with my main telephone line.  Another phone line is dedicated to watching TV channels on demand.  Interestingly, because of this 2nd phone line (that comes with a new telephone number!), I now can have two telephones at home!  Cynthia can talk to her mother in Indonesia while at the same time, I to my mother in Hong Kong.  One happy family.  The Chinese guy laughed when he heard me thinking-out-loud and commented that incoming calls for the 2nd phone line is not free, unlike the first one.  “Huh?” I said.  “But you can set up a fax machine and receive faxes for free!” he hinted.

Things you would not have known if not thinking-out-loud.  SingTel puts in a lot of hidden bonus materials for those who care to ask.

Back to the drama, we failed to locate the 2nd phone line.  There was no 2nd phone line in my home.  What a disaster!  “What shall we do now?” I asked.  The duo proposed that they would route a new cable from outside, use the existing StarHub concealed cable truck, drill a hole through my wall, and route the line around my living room to where my telephone is.  Concealed and free-of-charge.

Free?!  Wow.  It is not even SingTel’s problem.  But they were happy to make this works for me.  Though I am not a big fan of mioTV.  I am touched.  Not only did they do all these for free, the Chinese guy was sensitive enough to ask if I have a vacuum cleaner.  “For?!” asked I.  He took out his huge and long tool (I swear I have not seen such size before) – a driller – and told me that if we could suck the dust while he drilled, my home would not be so dusty thereafter.  Good idea.  He drilled and I held the sucker (sorry I forgot the English term for that).  And to add onto the drama, our driller failed to go through!  He tried until his face was all red.  I stayed still and looked at his driller in puzzlement.  Later, we found out that his driller had hit a metal plate put in by StarHub as an attempt to defend its cable (whoever came out with that idea is a true genius).  Wrong hole.  So he positioned his tool up a bit and drilled.  It went through OK.

*     *     *     *     *

It is true.  There is a high chance that if you do not know what you are doing, your mioTV may take 30 to 40 minutes to get switched on.  The SingTel duo said to me that it is IMPORTANT to switch off the power at the mioTV box BEFORE turning off the power main.  Failing to do so may incur a 30 to 40 minutes penalty the next time you switch on mioTV.  If I may backtrack a bit, I also love SingTel for keeping us alert and proactive in not creating a problem in the first place.  The solution can be so simple that you feel like a genius knowing it.

PS. What if I have a sudden power failure while mioTV is on?  Read on and you will understand my concern.

*     *     *     *     *

Contrary to how some may perceive, I love to embrace change.  Take wireless phone as an example.  I have changed from Nokia 8850 to Nokia N85 to Nokia N95 to Nokia N96 to Nokia 97 to now, a Nokia N900 over a decade (on a more serious note, I did change from nVidia to ATI and being a PC gamer to a PS3 gamer).  My next phone is likely to be a different model of a Nokia.  So, how does changing from StarHub TV to SingTel mioTV feel like?

Since during this promotion period (what a scary marketing phrase coming from SingTel), all the channels are opened for viewing, I requested for my favorite girl-fight-girl, girl-fight-lots-of-guys, girl-feed-girl-with-blood movie “Blood, The Last Vampire”.  It is on demand, so once I click OK, the movie started.  Wow.  That is pretty cool.  OK, the censorship is horrible (that’s why I seldom buy DVDs here) but that is nothing to do with SingTel.  Will I pay S$6.42 per movie?  I suppose if I think deeper on how much I spend on StarHub TV’s movie channels a month (S$28) and end up probably not watching any, if I think deeper on how many DVDs that I have bought thinking that I would watch but still in wraps, S$6.42 per movie may seem reasonable.  I don’t think Cynthia will be delighted to drop the Star Movies, HBO, and HBO HD channels currently playing in StarHub TV.  So all these thoughts are purely academical.

Net-net, what does this mean to me?  It means Cynthia now has StarHub TV and SingTel mioTV channels to watch.  I can say goodbye to console gaming and eBay off my PS3 today.

PS. I do like mioTV’s ability to retain the signal’s aspect and resolution and let us have 3 levels of zooming in and stretch and what not.  That way, the faces and arms on TV for the non-HD channels are not stretched unnaturally.

*     *     *     *     *

I have always wanted to make a listing of the electrical appliances used across four power sockets in my living room here in my website.  I guess now is a right time to do so.

I think I may have reached a critical stage on how many electrical appliances I can support in my living room.  I kid you not.  If I am not careful in manually load balance the demand, the circuit breaker would trip.  If I am lucky, my home would be blacked out.  Otherwise, the entire tower may black out.  I pray that none from my condo reads this.

In no particular order, here is a laundry list of what are plugged in, of which three of the four power mains can be switched off if not used.  That is a pretty sophisticated power saving mechanism I have derived lately.

  1. Plasma TV
  2. Wireless headset that is perpetually connected to the TV
  3. Main telephone
  4. Portable telephone (with charger)
  5. Sony Playstation 3
  6. Network-attached Storage (my home server and more)
  7. Squeezebox (to stream my music wirelessly)
  8. Squeezebox controller (believe it or not, it is a computer on its own)
  9. Audio amplifier (that is also used for gaming, video, home studio, and etc.)
  10. CD player
  11. Blu-ray player
  12. Radio player
  13. StarHub Hubstation HD
  14. mio Box (modem and home network for broadband)
  15. mioTV setup box
  16. Wired modem for mioTV
  17. HDD recorder (because my mioTV does not come with one)
  18. Network switch (yes, I have that many devices)
  19. 24″ LCD computer monitor
  20. My power hungry computer
  21. Maxtor external on-the-fly backup drive for my computer
  22. Printer
  23. 22″ LCD computer monitor
  24. Cynthia’s computer
  25. Computer speakers for Cynthia’s computer
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Diary

First Day At Work At My New Office

My official first day of work at my new office began with a 15 minutes drive from the city to Changi after dropping Cynthia off for work, which is not bad consider all things.  Singapore is a small country.  Distance is often measured by the number of traffic lights and junctions between the starting point and the destination.   Unless you need to travel to and fro between Jurong and Changi – the two extreme ends of the west and of the east – or your destination is somewhere in the north called Woodland, time spent on the highways is often dwarfed by the stop-and-go on the small roads.

I choose exit 1 of East Coast Parkway to enter into Changi Business Park for this very reason – to minimize the number of traffic lights and junctions down to one.  A little bit longer in distance but it is time saving, I reckon.   Hypothetically speaking, if I was to miss the exit, I would end up in Changi Airport.  Too bad.   Our airport has little vegetarian dinning options.  It would have been a decent hangout place for lunch.  The malls, the pinnacle of our civilizations, the monuments of our modernity.

Away from town comes the benefit of open blue sky and the greenery.  There is a manmade lake in the middle of the business park, a fountain in the middle of the lake, and center to this commercial establishment is “The Signature”.  Opposite “The Signature” is my new office.   A six-story high building awarded with an environmental green label.   No, there are not enough parking slots for the staffs, as part of the deal.   Going green means discouraging people from driving that in turn encouraging the same group of people to park a few blocks away, at the not very green buildings.   And hence, in support of my company’s green initiative, I park two blocks away.   A lovely 5 minutes walk, which is not bad.

Hot desk concept in most offices comes with the daily ritual of kneeing underneath the table, with our asses up in the air, crawling through the dirty carpet to plug our laptops into the mains, to find the network cables.  Even as a guy, I feel embarrassed doing this.  How a girl would feel, I wonder.   Some offices have evolved into concealing the power and network supply inside the table top or by the cubicle wall.   Still, it is often a mess trying to plug and pull the cables every day.

Pleasantly surprised I was on my first day at my new office to see the power supply at my arm’s length on my table.   No more bending.  No more having my ass up in the air.   I was delighted to see the endless supply of green tea bags at the open pantry too.  And a coffee machine with a bean grinder that I need to figure out how to use it.  Day one, I could not find the water dispenser.   One friendly colleague showed me that one of the faucets dispenses both hot and chilled filtered water.  Not to be confused with the faucet for washing only.   Day two, I noticed that there is a LED indicator on that special faucet that lights up when it is time to change the filter.

Friendly familiar faces, unfamiliar names.   So many of us in this building.  I think we need to wear name tags to work.   I work on the third floor, the canteen is on the sixth floor.  No more the need to get out of my office building for food.  Less the pollution and direct sunlight, I reckon I will have better skin in the long run.   At the India vegetarian counter, the friendly staff asked if I am a vegetarian.  Perhaps it is uncommon to see a Chinese eating only vegetable.   She said it is good for me.   I think it is good for her too as her stall is the only vegetarian stall in the entire building.  Oh yes.   She will see me 225 days a year.

My official first day of work at my new office ended with a 5 minutes walk from my “green” building to my car park.   I have spotted a small yellow butterfly dancing in between the green bushes.   I stopped and admired a piece of nature that is considered as rare when one works in town.  Consider all things, this is not bad.

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Bethany’s 100th Day Birthday

I am a strong believer that it is important to be efficient in my daily routines.  Imagine if on average, I save 10% of time doing the things I do, add that up to a lifetime worth of hours, how much time would I gain?  That does not necessarily make me an impatient man.  If I need to sit in front of the television to watch F1 live for two straight hours, I would.  If I need to spend 15 minutes every morning to iron my shirt, I would.  Having said that, I would prefer to time shift the F1 broadcast and skip the time wasting advertisement.  Or to perfect the process of ironing taking into consideration of the potential interruption when my ironing schedule clashes with Cynthia’s breakfast preparation process (note: we have a small kitchen where we cook, prepare breakfast, and iron, amongst other things we do inside this tiny space).

This evening, after Cynthia and I had our vegetarian dinner, as we walked to the Spanish school for our class, I looked at my watch and it said ten to seven.  I looked across the street and had an idea.  This morning a receptionist from my clinic called and reminded me of my vaccination schedule.  I had ten minutes to spare.  How about …

So I dashed across the street, leaving Cynthia with our textbooks, crashed into the clinic and greeted by a group of foreigners at the registration counter.  I quickly pulled out my pink IC, passed it to one of the receptionists with a strong sense of urgency and said, “I have a class at seven.  So if you could kindly …”

I supposed I could have relaxed once I got into the doctor’s room.  Instead, I blurted out loud, “I have a class at seven so if you could …”  The doctor replied, “No problem.  I will be very quick.  And this may hurt!”

Uh-oh.

Ouch!

OK.  It did hurt more than the last time.  Efficiency does come with a price at times, I suppose.  7-minute was all it took for registration, getting an injection, to have a short chat with the friendly doctor on his recent trip to UK, the places he had visited, and to pay S$90 with NETS, say goodbye to the foreigners at the waiting area. 

*     *     *     *     *

Back to the lovely photo above that inspires this blog entry, last weekend, we celebrated my niece Bethany’s 100th day birthday.  Yes, I can always trust my sister to spot the most unusual day of significance for us to celebrate.  I really love this picture.  Recently I have changed my Facebook profile using a picture of mine laughing out loud as Bethany was placed onto my embrace on her 1 month birthday.  Some friends of mine thought that the baby was mine and hence I looked so happy.  Well, deep inside this very macho looking man is – believe it or not – someone who has a very sentimental heart.  Now you know.

I have not seen Bethany for a while.  Below are some random observations to share.

  • Bethany and I connect when I switch to Cantonese.  She would smile, look at me, squeeze my fingers, when I speak Cantonese with her.  How strange!
  • Bethany smells different from the last time I held her close, in a good way.  I love her smell!
  • When Cynthia pinched me, Bethany would look unhappy.  What a good niece.  She should visit me more often.  Watch out Cynthia!
  • We still have that effect to each other.  When she looks at me, she falls asleep.  When I look at her, I fall asleep.
  • I still think that her eyes lit up whenever I mention “Let’s go shopping at Orchard!”.  Maybe I shall try again when she is older.

PS. Caption of the photo from left to right: Me, my niece Bethany, my sister Lora, and Cynthia.  Photo taken by my brother-in-law Benny using my Nikon D700.  Thanks Benny!  I really love this photo you took for us!

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We Love To Play Scrabble

Board games, do people play these any more these days?  Computer games, console games, Facebook games – it seems to me that board games have faded into things of the past.  We watch movies more often than watching plays on stage; listen to music from our sound system more than attending live performances.  Think about how often we play board games these days.  And how often would someone born today play board games as they grow up.

As often as we watch plays on stage, attend live performances, I guess.

In a way, looking at the generation I come from, I am straddled between a world of board games and a world of electronic games.  When I was young, there was no such thing as computer games.  I had boxes of board games and I love playing them.  With whom?  My dad seldom played games with me, except the Chinese strategy ones that I was no match to him.  Still do not.  My mother at times played dice throwing type of games with me, mainly because my sister was often too young to play with me.  Four years of age gap, it means a lot in the realm of board gaming.  To me that is.  My sister was not buying it.  Still does not I reckon.

Electronic game has its rich entertainment value.  And in many instances, it is more convenience to play, has better variety, and can be played alone.  Those seem to be what we value today.  Even more so than not so many years ago.

Maybe it is not electronic games versus board games any more.  Passive entertainments such as television channel surfing, YouTube surfing, Facebook surfing, have become favorite pastime for perhaps you and me?

Cynthia and I love road trips to destinations that have no or little television and Internet access.  We often bring along Scrabble with us, something that can easily fit into the car.  And we keep a score sheet for all the games we have played.  With whom and where.

Speaking of games, over the weekend, I have attempted to design a game that is education in nature.  Something to do with learning Spanish.  I have tried to dig deep into my dusty closet where I have abandoned my computing skill not too long ago (I think one technology year is ten physical years).  Creating an electronic game, something I could have done quite easily years ago, is a no go.  Instead, I am thinking of creating a simple board game.

What would that look like?  Nothing elaborate or ground breaking.  I am badly in need of some motivation, something fun to practice my Spanish.  Keeping it simple, so as to speak.

PS. Photos are taken on a 5 minutes interval while we were playing Scrabble inside one of the living rooms of Smokehouse hotel at Fraser’s Hill, Malaysia.

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Diary

Can You Steal A Parking Lot?

When resource becomes scarce is when our true color reveals, true or false?  One can talk about the beauty of humanity when people are getting what the majority are having.  But strange behaviors emerge when we have to compete, especially when the rules are not well established.  What am I talking about?  The stealing of parking lots.

Stealing?!

I first read that phrase on the front page of our national newspaper.  Someone was stomped, accused of parking lot stealing, and has his or her face / car photographed and published on the Internet.  What is Stomp?  Quote unquote: Asia’s leading citizen-journalism website with user-generated material.  The website can be found in here.  Personally, I am not that into Stomp, as I have yet to be convinced that citizen-journalism has a consistent high quality that I can value when it comes to news reading.  And if bloggers can be sued in Singapore for defamation, would stompers face the same risk?  Or they have gained immunity because the pictures are hosted with our national newspaper in the Internet space?  Whichever, I would rather not see my face featured in Stomp.  That brings forth the second part of this entry.

*     *     *     *     *

Over the years, the shopping mall Thompson Plaza has retained its popularity, amongst the dwellers of the neighborhood, including my family.  Over the years, car ownership in Singapore has increased.  How I wish we could be like our neighboring country Malaysia that when the demand is up, a new mall can be built right next to the old one.  Double the capacity, double the parking lots.

Parking in Thompson Plaza has become increasingly time consuming, especially during peak hours.  Rather than going round and round inside the car park basement hoping to find an empty slot, I often wait patiently in one area for one.  At times, there could be two or even three cars waiting in the same area.  There is no first-come-first-serve when it comes to which of the cars in waiting get the first available lot.  There is no clear demarcation of which are the lots belongs to which ‘waiting bay’.  For me, I often give way to those who have come first, or those who are closer to the empty lot.  Seldom do I confront other drivers unless it is an act of bully, which I have encountered several times in the past.  I do not get out of the car and scream at other drivers like some do.  I make sure that I drive into the lot before it is taken, if I feel that I have waited for my turn.

One fine day, as I was heading to my usual waiting area, inside the Thompson Plaza car park, I was stuck in a peculiar situation.  Behind my car, one car was leaving the lot.  In front of me, there was a car in waiting blocking my way.  All that car needed to do was to move forward a little bit, let me pass, and take up the parking lot.  My intend was to wait for another lot since someone was here before me.

All of a sudden, the car in front sped away, disappeared.  And I was presented with an empty parking lot.  I looked in front and there was no car waiting.  I looked at the back and there was no car behind.  I waited a bit, nothing happened.  Naturally, I drove into the lot, and parked.

Out of nowhere, someone was honking furiously.  I looked through the windscreen and saw a lady driver furiously screaming at me, rudely gesturing at me.  Wow, what’s going on?  It turns out that she was the driver in front of me and had – I suppose – decided to drive one big round through the car park in order to let me pass.  I was not pleased with her attitude but surrendering the lot to her seemed like the right thing to do.  And so I drove out of the parking lot and waited for another one.

Looking at the rear mirror, I could tell that she was still angry at me.  A few days later, when I read the headline on the newspapers, I secretly hoped that it was not I who was stomped.  If so, I may consider suing someone for defamation – for the fun of it since it seems like the in-thing to do in Singapore these days.

*     *     *     *     *

Near my home, there is a food center.  At times, the parking lots can be fully occupied.  One time, a small lorry drove past me who was in the waiting, did a U-turn, and there we were, facing each other, eying on the same set of lots.  And I wondered: How is it going to be?  Me or him?

As the story turned out, a lot became available near to the lorry.  And I was expecting it to be taken, even though I had been waiting for quite a while.  Just my luck.  Some days you have it, some days don’t.  Contrary to my expectation, the lorry driver hand-signalled me to take the lot instead.  I was in gratitude, surprised – or rather grateful – that there is still beauty in humanity when resource seems scarce.

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A Small Reunion Dinner

When asked what we do during Chinese New Year, I often begin the lengthy recount of our culture and tradition with a reunion dinner that happens during our Chinese New Year Eve period.  Family members get together in a dinning table (or a dinning hall depending how big one’s family is) to celebrate and to catch up, especially with the elders of the family.  How often do we get to meet our relatives?

A lot more often when we have a baby in the family.

Ever since my little niece Bethany landed on Earth, I see her mother – my sister – almost daily.  And her daddy – my good buddy – too.  Not only that, my mother has also decided to travel from Hong Kong and stay with Cynthia and I because of little Bethany.  She is a little magnet that pull this small family together.  I cannot remember when was the last time we have a reunion dinner together.  It would be nice if my dad could travel to Singapore too.  Perhaps when Bethany is old enough, we shall travel Hong Kong and celebrate our reunion in our birth town.

I often think that babies are sound polluting machines.  Little Bethany seems calm and well-mannered when she is in my home, or in my car.  Most of the time, she sleeps like a baby.  She is a baby!  This is her second long visit to where I live.  And I have to admit, the more often I see her, the deeper bonding I am developing with her.  Imagine parents who see and handle their babies every minute of their waking hours.  That bonding must be strong.  It is something that is hard to explain, best to experience.

Observing things that we do with Bethany, I ponder upon the necessity of daily routine act of affection with your loved ones.  Something that we may have overlooked, something that may have been overwritten by other daily routines.  As I was holding little Bethany in my arms, the first time after she was born, I could not help but to think …

… I reckon if she was to camp to my home for a few days, I could still play computer games while she is sleeping in my embrace.  Her daddy Benny doesn’t seem to be convinced.  I should do a live demo the next time they visit us.

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A Twitching Motorcyclist

Update: On the next day after this blog entry was published, on the same highway, similar location, similar timing, another motorcyclist was down, apparently hit by a car.  Two lanes were closed.  Tow truck, ambulance, police car were present.  I saw bloodstained on a piece of white cloth.

I am much saddened today, or at least for a larger part of the day.  As though I am lost in my own world, unable to articulate what borders me in exactitude.  Nor do I have the means to pull myself out of this strange emotional distress.  Like every other morning, here in Singapore, on a highway that is often jammed, one would wonder: what causes the jam?  At times we see accident vehicles on the road shoulder.  Or the yellow tow trucks in blinking yellow light; sometimes the police cars in blinking blue light; more often these days, ambulances in blinking red light.  Or more likely so, we see no sign of incident by the time we get through the jam.  It is just another day, on a busy highway, here in Singapore.

This morning, there was another jam on the highway.  As I drove slowly on the fast lane, I saw a stationary vehicle on the middle lane.  In front of that vehicle was a motorcyclist, lying on the ground beside his bike twitching in pain, under a bright hot sun.  His helmet had landed on the far side of the fast lane.  If my window was down, I would have heard him bellowing in pain.  Such pain and my heart ached for him.  Cynthia turned to me and asked, “Shall we call an ambulance?”  The driver of the vehicle got out of his car, walking slowly towards the fallen motorcyclist.  It must be a lot for him to take in.  It must be a lot for all those who witnessed the aftermath to take in.

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Many friends ask why I do not cycle in Singapore, especially those who know that I was once an avid cyclist in UK.  The heat and humidity in Singapore is one.  But that can be overcome.  What deters me from cycling here is the fact that the roads in Singapore are not built with the cyclists in mind, the motorists in Singapore are not trained to take care of the cyclists on the road, and most cyclists in Singapore do not follow the basic safety code.  I think some of my friends don’t buy my answer.  And I wonder why.  Being a living example does not mean that the circumstance is safe.  It means that one is lucky.

But it is true.  In UK, inside the main towns, it is not uncommon to see a narrow cyclist lane drawn between the pavement and the road for the motorists.  Motorists often give a good margin when overtaking the cyclists.  And the cyclists in UK signal by hands when changing lane, follow the traffic rule, do not cycle on the pavement meant for the pedestrians, do not cycle on the wrong side of the road, and they use a head light and a rear light when cycling at night.

Some ask, will I pick up cycling again when the construction of the round-the-country cycling lane is completed?  If the cyclists are to cycle like how the motorists here drive (they are often the same people, are they not?), no thanks.  I’d rather have other forms of exercise.

I am sad today perhaps because I cannot make this country a better place to drive, and to cycle.

Categories
Diary

She Is Bethany

I have finally realized what the phrase “sleep like a baby” means after spending much time watching my niece who does nothing but sleeps during my frequent visits.  Or I think I have realized.  She does nothing but sleep!  And I want to be just like her.  In fact, when I look at her not looking at me, that look of oh-happy-sleep, I too want to fall asleep.  She could well be my lullaby.  Benny – my sister’s husband a.k.a. the happy dad – shook his head and said, “You should see her cry at night, bro.”  Such is the beauty of playing with other people’s babies.  You don’t have to deal with the daily chores and yet, you get to adore the babies in their supreme cuteness.

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Cynthia’s yoga teacher said that if we keep doing the same thing for 21 days, that will become a habit.  I can’t say that visiting my niece often has become a habit, for she is less than 21 days old.  But that concept is growing in me.  Every time when my mother and I stepped into Benny and my sister Lora’s home, I would head straight to the living room, where my niece sleeps.  And I would give her a little hug showering her with the words of adoration for a few good minutes.

Oops.  I have forgotten to greet the other permanent residents of the house.  How rude of me!

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From an outsider point of view – which I once was – it is certainly strange for a group of grownups to gather together and comment on a newborn baby who is barely a few days’ old.  What is there to talk about?

It turns out that there are a lot of things we can talk about.  Below is a random list of topics.

  • Which baby’s feature or characteristic comes from which parent?  And this could drag into a lengthy discussion.  More often, grandparents have the final say.
  • Physical comparison against other babies in the family.  So-and-so’s baby is born with more / less hair than yours (?!).  So-and-so’s baby is born “taller” / “shorter” / lighter / heavier than yours (?!).  I wonder if there is a strong correlation between the day you were born and how you would grow up to be – physically speaking.
  • My favorite observation is that my niece seems to have long fingers.  So I reckon she could be a great pianist.  I fancy this idea.  My dream could come true to have someone in the family to play piano!  A grand piano for her 18th birthday has crossed my mind.  Benny and Lora, if you are reading this, you may need a bigger apartment to put that piano in the middle of your living room.

And of course if I could hear how she cries instead of seeing her sleeping all the time, perhaps I can assess if she has a potential to be a great singer too.

*     *     III     *     *

Little Bethany, if you are reading this in the future, I think I get to see your mother a lot more often than before.  And that is a very good thing, of course.

Dad, if you are reading this, here is a picture of little Bethany in the cradle of her grandmother.

Categories
Diary

A Little Prayer For My Little Sister

It was just yesterday, over our dining table, in the context of who has helped out during my sister’s pregnancy in what ways, we joked that Cynthia is now assigned to be our Chief Praying Officer.  Yesterday I have also spent some time, with the happy expecting couple – Benny and Lora – and our mom arrived from Hong Kong, doing some last minute shopping.  Perhaps, experiencing the miracle of life makes people radiate in the light of youth.  That excitement, that power vested by the Giver of Life, as we took a slow walk from the AMK wet market to my car, I could not help but to admire this aura radiating from Benny and Lora, from a distance that is never too far away, only a footsteps behind.

The next time I see my sister, I may not be seeing her adorably round tummy, for she is now inside the delivery ward.

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I reckon, for some of us, the first decision we have ever made was: When shall I get out of this womb?  Unlike shipment and delivery of goods that we can call someone and ask and track and inquire when that something we have been expecting is due to arrive, babies come out as and when they have decided so.  I have been trying to calm myself down because thinking of the uncertainty drives me crazy.  Maybe today, maybe tomorrow.  Maybe this hour, maybe the next.  Mothers do not will the babies to come out; our biological mechanism only does so much in facilitating the child birth process; after exhausting all possibilities – given my limited brain capacity – I hence conclude that if indeed someone gets to decide when to come out of the womb and play, that has to be the little fellow inside the tummy.

The next time I celebrate my birthday, I will also make it a celebration of this very first decision I have made.

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Tradition is perhaps one of the most valuable aspects of where we come from.  Generations after generations, wisdom of lesson learned is passed onto, practiced upon.  Like that tonic drink well known for the women to consume after the delivery of babies.  For the longest history in time, I could not pinpoint why whenever I smell the fragrance of that tonic drink, I think of nothing but happiness.  The missing key, it appears, is the duration of the preparation of this tonic drink.

Accordingly to my mom, which later on I realize that it is more of a Hong Kong tradition than a Singaporean one in terms of how this tonic drink is made, it takes days and months to prepare the soup base of that tonic drink.  Large amount of fried ginger is soaked inside black sweet Chinese vinegar and this soup base is cooked intermittently for a long period of time.  After the baby is delivered, this soup base is used to cook with pork trotters and boiled eggs in making that one tonic drink.  And hence, I deduced that even when I was four years of age, given the long duration of the preparation, that scent of vinegar must have immortalized the happy moment of my little sister’s birth.  That probably is why whenever I am in the proximity of such a tonic drink, inevitably, I feel happy.

Yesterday, mom has started the cooking process, of that tonic drink.  Oh my.  The strength of the scent of the vinegar, it hurts my eyes, it hurts my nose, and it hurts my brain.  And yesterday was only day one.

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Recent events prompt me to ponder upon how many people were involved to bring me to this world.  As I was watching “Planet Earth”, the birth and the upbringing of the baby animals seem to be a lot more straightforward (OK, may not be the case of the penguins, come to think of it).  Perhaps I shall also dedicate my birthday to those who made it happen, from now on.

Meanwhile, a little prayer for my little sister for a smooth and safe delivery.  Healthy baby and healthy mom, I reckon, will make a lot of people very happy.  Thank you God.  I owe you one.

Edit: The baby has arrived safely.