![]() | I keep entries of a more personal nature (for example, with photos of me and my friends) locked up. If you know me, and wish to get access to some of the locked entries, you can either sign up for a LJ account, or for an OpenID account (google and figure it out). Either way, once you have signed up, leave a comment here letting me know who you are, and I'll add you to the filter accordingly. All comments are screened. I keep a number of filters, so you may not have access to everything, but sufficient given our relationship :-) Please do leave a comment instead of just adding me to your friends list. If I have no idea who you are, I will not add you. Cheers. |
- Mood:
cheerful
To everything there is a season, |
| ecclesiastes 3:1-8 |
- Mood:
contemplative
- Mood:
contemplative
I was in Siem Reap back in 2006, with my friends from Museum Volunteers. While we did meet some child beggars, they were very few in numbers. There were a lot of child salespeople - children trying to sell all kinds of trinkets and bags but even then, they backed off once you indicated that you are not interested.
In 2009, the number of child beggars astounded me. The number of children going "one dollar? do you have "tang-guo"?" chills me to the core. And it is not just child beggars who are asking for these gifts. We were at Bakeng for the sunrise, and while we were shooting the temple from the entrance in order to capture the golden glow, children were walking through the temple to get to school, and almost every other child who passed us went "do you have "tang-guo" lady? one dollar?" And the child salesgirl / boys - they were so very persistent that it has become irritating. I actually had to tell off two girls who trailed me up and down a road, and going non-stop "lady, you want to buy - 5 for one dollar, lady, give me a dollar, lady, give me "tang-guo""... up and down the street. I kid you not.
I cannot help but curse the influx of Chinese tourists (whether from China or Taiwan I have no idea) who thoughtlessly gave sweets to these children ("tang-guo" is Mandarin for candy / sweets). Seriously, these children have very little, if any, access to dental care - what on earth are people thinking to be giving sweets to these children? And why why why are tourists giving money to them as if money is nothing? It just encourages begging.
Look, before you curse me for being a hard-hearted bitch with not a drop of sympathy in her blood, I feel sorry for the poverty-strucken circumstances of the Cambodians as much as anyone else. However, there are ways of helping that do not encourage dependency on hand-outs. Here is a link to one NGO that is doing good work for children in Cambodia. Just think - when you give that one dollar, who do you give it to? That old man, that middle-aged woman with a missing limb or that adorable child with the big eyes and tattered clothes? I bet that more often than not, you are giving money to the child. And guess what is going to happen? Do you really think that the child will use that money to go to school? Or rather, will the child (or his or her guardian or in the worst case scenario, owner) stay on the streets simply because it makes more financial sense for him or her to be accosting tourists for handouts rather than be in school studying?
OK fine, you say, what about notebook and pencils, these are good for the children right? My hard-hearted view - no, no and no. What do you think the children are going to do with the notebooks and pencils? If they are at the temple ruins posing for photographs (and then asking for money in return) or begging for money, do you think the notebooks and pencils will be used for school? Or is it more likely that the notebooks and pencils will be sold for money? And if children are trying to sell you trinkets, and instead of buying their wares, you give them notebooks, pencils, sweets or worse, money, what have you done to them? At the least, these children are trying to make an honest living by selling their wares - why treat them like beggars who are asking for handouts? Buy their postcards damnit, or just ignore them. They are not beggars, don't treat them like they are. Don't take away what self-respect they have. Sometimes that is all they have.
- Mood:
hot
This is a photo which I think is also fairly representative of what comes to people's mind when we think of Cambodia.
( More Pictures ... )
- Mood:
tired
See the light at the end of the tunnel?

- Mood:
exhausted
This song is beautiful - and the singer is amazing.
The rest is just pure heart
You'll find your fate is all your own creation
There's so much strength in all of us
Every woman child and man
It's the moment that you think you can't
You'll discover that you can
The power of the dream
The faith in things unseen
The courage to embrace your fear
No matter where you are
To reach for your own star
To realize the power of the dream
( The Lyrics )
- Mood:
impressed
“When deep injury is done to us, we will never recover until we forgive. Forgiveness does not change the past but it does enlarge the future”
– Mary Karen Read
It brings to mind a conversation I had with a friend, S, when we were discussing the concept of forgiveness. S said that she doesn't hold grudges, and I told her that, by and large I don't, but there are some things which I can't forgive. She said, there is no point to hold such grudges, because it will only end in me being bitter. I kept silent, but my thoughts at that time were that sometimes it is this sense of injustice and bitterness that keeps me going. However, when I read the quote above, I thought, S has a point - why allow something or someone that hurt you so deeply to dictate the course of your life, even if it is just a little bit. Someone who I had already kicked out of or had already voluntarily left my life, and against whom I had already built walls to prevent him or her from coming back in ever again. To forgive but not to forget - surely I have it within me to achieve this.
( Some quotes I came across along the way ... )
- Mood:
pensive
He is actually about a year older than me, and it has been a source of conflict when we were younger that I am a generation above him, and is therefore, according to Chinese traditions, his elder. As a child therefore, I insisted on being "respected" as an elder, and he, being senior chronologically, insisted that he should be "respected" as an elder instead. As children, we sometimes went overboard - to this day, I maintain that my hair-trigger temper and stubborn nature were due to my almost daily clashes with him as children. He maintained that I was born a chili-padi.
( Me & My Nephew ... )
- Mood:
happy
It wasn't the first time we felt tremors from earthquakes in Sumatra. I recalled the first time it happened, it was slightly before lunch time and we had to evacuate the building and mill around outside the building (I remembered one of my friends protesting as her boyfriend dragged her out, "my email, I need to finish my email, client is expecting it before lunch!" and when she was downstairs and outside the building, "can we go back now? I need to send out my email." and her boyfriend hushing her) Just when we returned from an early lunch, however, another set of tremors shook the building, and the management decided to declare a half day holiday - I stayed on in the office because I had work, and also because I had class later in the evening. My head of department appeared at the door to my office and asked me to go home - I am not sure if it is out of concern or because the firm wanted to avoid any liability should the building collapse while I am still inside.
The second time it happened was an evening, around 7 pm or so. And I was darn miffed because I was trying to finish an advice and go on study leave thereafter (it was close to my exams). My room-mate had to pull a protesting me out of the office and I was grumbling all the way because the security guards will not allow us to return to the building until it has been verified to be sound, which took an hour or so. You should see how many lawyers were panicking over unfinished work on the lawn outside the building - especially the litigators who have court deadlines.
( The First Time We Were Afraid, The Second Time We Were Cheesed Off, The Third Time .... )
- Mood:
indifferent
She said that she joined a couple of friends who are spending a year travelling and sent me the link to their blog.
I clicked my way through and scrolled through their many pages - they went North America before going down to South America. And you know what? I am so envious. Not because they have the chance to do something like this, but that they had each other to do it with. I consider myself quite self-sufficient and independent most of the time, and I know that I lead a rich and purposeful life, but I must admit, there are days when I wish I have a companion to share all my experiences with. It is strange, there are days when I think one other person within sight is one person too many, but there are days when I really wish there is someone there with me.
Do you think, do you think I can bring a dog with me to South America (or get one in South America) and have it accompany me on my entire trip? The only problem here is what happens when we return - my mum detest dogs, cats, rabbits (i.e. any pets other than fish), and had more than once told me and my brother (whenever we requested for a cat or a dog) to choose between her or the prospective pet. Thus far, we have chosen her ...
The above statement has been attributed to Alfian Sa'at, often referred to as the enfant terrible of Singapore's literary scene.
I love Singapore, it is a love that needs no justification, nor any explanation. I grew up here, it is my home, and the home of my family and many of my friends. It is the only home I have ever known. How can I not love her?
And yet, today, when I was doing my usual rounds of blog-surfing, I came across a blog post that commented on an advertisement for a job-opening. This is the advertisement, which is for a Sales Development Engineer:
Did you read the last line? It stated "Preferably non-Singaporean (PR welcome)"
I cannot even being to say all the things that are wrong with this and what it tells us about our country. All I can say is, when I read that line, I felt something break in me. And the line by Alfian Sa'at came to mind.
- Mood:
disappointed
Nonetheless, it was a fun trip, I was also fiddling with my B+W ND110 filter, which was quite a cool toy as it allows me to stop down by 10 stops, and therefore boats etc that passed by while I was taking a photo simply did not appear in the final photo - how awesome is that?
I had a few fairly decent photos that I have embedded into this post below (after the LJ cut) for everyone's enjoyment. Please be patient and wait for the photos to load fully.
( Click for Photos! )
- Mood:
rejuvenated
I know I am sounding really sentimental these days - perhaps it is a sign of old age - but as all of us scatter further and further to all corners of the world (both literally and metaphorically) to pursue our individual dreams and goals, it has become (and I suspect will continue to remain) more and more difficult to keep in touch. Nonetheless, it is my hope that all of us will remember the times we have spent together - learning and growing with all the attendant laughter and tears - and that as and when we meet again, we will be as comfortable with each other as we ever had. And perhaps one day, even if we never meet again, you may rock your grandchild on your knee, and tell them stories of grandma (or granddad) and dear old Aunty Euterpe.
My wishes to all of you:
May today there be peace within.
May you trust that you are exactly where you are meant to be.
May you not forget the infinite possibilities that are born of faith in yourself and others.
May you use the gifts that you have received, and pass on the love that has been given to you.
May you be content with yourself just the way you are.
Let this knowledge settle into your bones, and allow your soul the freedom to sing, dance, praise and love.
It is there for each and every one of us.
- Mood:
restless
My secondary school years were not my happiest - simply put, there was a serious mismatch between my personality and the school culture. When I left at the end of four years, I was determined to leave it all behind me, sever all my ties so as to speak. I chose a junior college far off the beaten track where I knew none of my classmates, and very few of my schoolmates will go. I chose a course that I knew none of my science-and-maths-mad and Mandarin speaking schoolmates will ever dream of signing up for. I had good friends in my secondary school - these three girls among them - but I wanted to leave everything behind and start afresh. It was for the best, I thought.
My friends did not think so. They left me alone for a while - for the full two years that I was in junior college in fact. I hardly heard of them, let alone see them, so different were the social circles that we were then moving in. I wouldn't say that I miss them terribly during those two years because while I do think of them occasionally, I was enjoying myself immensely in junior college. However, my friends got back in touch with me when we entered university, and it was as if we had never been apart.
They gave me my space when I needed space to recuperate, and once they figured that I have sulked enough, they came after me, grabbed me and held on.
We are four very different girls, but somehow we became very good friends. I never knew what I did to deserve such strong and steady friendships, but I give thanks every day that I have them. Thank you my dears, and here's to the next 17 years of friendship (and more!)
P.S. I am leaving this unlocked since I know you girls read this sometimes.
- Mood:
happy
An intriguing article appeared in my Inbox this morning, about the teaching of history in schools. In the article, which was published in The Straits Times, the author lamented how our education system has failed in the teaching of history. As evidence, the author cited a case where 15 year olds at a school band leadership camp named their team 'Hitler' because they admired the dictator's leadership qualities, and another where young Singaporeans have no idea who S. Rajaratnam (a founding father of our country), is.
I wonder if the author realises (maybe she does but she is writing in a state-owned paper after all) that history is dangerous. While history can be a tool for "nation-building" (more correctly known as propaganda), the study of history is actually a training of the mind - to read between the lines of contemporaneous documents, the self-serving statements of persons with legacies to protect, and the words of the man-in-the-street, whose views and recollections are necessarily influenced by her circumstances, both at the time a "historical" event has occurred and how she has fared since then. A historian is not a person with a memory for dry facts and figures, but a person who is trained to look underneath the underneath. She does not only have to aware of the biases and the worldviews of the persons she is interviewing or who had written the records she is studying, she has also, to the extent possible, be self-aware of her own biases and her own worldview. It requires a person to be analytical, to be clear-minded and ruthlessly self-questioning and to ask hard questions. It is my two years studying history at A Levels that taught me the merits of doing intense research, of tracking down that one reference in a thousand page book to an obscure research paper that leads you to another aspect of the issue which you had never considered, of reading widely and finding odd correlations and relationships that you never realise exist, and then to put together the various nuggets of seemingly unrelated or distantly related information to form a coherent picture that may be different from what you had believed to be correct.
Teach students history well (goodness that is a load of unwritten and unspoken assumptions here) - and you are teaching them to ask many probing and possibly uncomfortable questions about our accepted view of the past, the carefully crafted story known to every single Singaporean child who ever studied in our education system about how Singapore came to be - the story of hardworking immigrants who through sheer hard work and with no intention of ever settling down permanently here created this modern city state that we call home. The story of how we are an accidential nation, thrown out of Malaysia as we did not believe in special rights of any one race, who nobody ever thought will survive for long as an independent nation state. The story of how, under the leadership of our wise and capable and incorruptible leaders, we have became what we are today. Still a little red dot, but a little red dot that all of us are proud of.
Do we want to put the tools for tearing down this cherished and almost-sacred worldview in the hands of our young? To allow them to become truly independent, tireless, curious questioners? To allow them the means to pull our almost-mytical leaders off their dais?
During my training to become a museum guide at the Asian Civilisations Museum, I learnt that Shiva is the god of death and destruction and is hence feared. However, he is also admired, because the Hindus understand that without death, there can be no new life, without destruction, there can be no new creation.
- Mood:
tired
""Dictatorial systems make one contribution to their people which leads them to tend to support such systems — freedom from the necessity of informing themselves and making up their own minds concerning these tremendous complex and difficult questions.” The authoritarian follower, Eisenhower suggested, desired nothing more than insulation from the pressures of a free society."
From this article.
There is indeed comfort in just following orders - it is so much easier to just obey as opposed to think as to whether obedience and adherence to the norm is correct in this particular case. The older I get, the more tempting it is, to just go with the flow. Why fight? Why not just do what everyone does? If so many people do it, it must be right, mustn't it?
- Mood:
groggy
I was interested. A few of my friends had gone down that path - it seems to be a good springboard out of Singapore and I always wanted to go NY. The big obstacle was the fees. I could just about afford the fees, but not the costs of living in NY. My friend pointed out that I had financed my undergraduate education via bank loans, and I can do the same with my postgraduate education. It is different, I retorted - the bank loan for my undergraduate education was interest-free until six months after graduation, by which time I was settled into a nice-paying job, the bank loan for this bears interest from the date of draw-down, and even a person as bad at numbers as I am know that you don't fool around with compound interest. I would have exhausted my financial reserves and gone into debt just to pursue a post-graduate degree. Pssh, my friend said, the starting pay of a new lawyer in NY is so high that you'll pay off the debt in no time. And he was right - even now, after six years of working experience, my pay is less than the starting pay of a NY lawyer in a big firm (even after their pay cuts and pay freezes). And in those days, it seems that law firms in NY were hiring anyone who breathes.
Still, I hesitated. I had just got out of debt at that time, debt that I did not incur, but which I still had to pay. I had a brother in university, who I was partially responsible for financially. I have semi-retired parents. Given the circumstances, to take a year off and then come out of that year in debt seems foolhardy. It was a difficult decision - the heart says, go. the head says, you can't. And there is no right or wrong decision on this - either way, a price must be, and is indeed, paid.
Looking back, as the consequences of the decision are now increasingly apparent, I am wistful, but I know that even if I can, I would not have changed anything.
We live with the consequences of our decisions, and all we can do is to smile, grimly or otherwise, and move on with our lives.
The article that inspired the ramblings above.
- Mood:wistful
- the courts do not call you to inform you that you are suspected of money-laundering;
- the staff at the courts do not speak Mandarin upon picking up the phone, neither does the CAD officer; and
- they do not call every lawyer's (and her secretary's) DID one by one to say the same thing.
( A smarter scam ... )
- Mood:
blank
I like photo-taking. Nobody bugs me when I am taking pictures. It is me and my camera and the view. I can fiddle with the camera, testing out different settings, trying to visualise in my mind's eye how the final picture should look, and comparing that against the picture I finally got. I just sit around and observe - there is no need to make polite small talk, no need to put on a front. And I realise that the older I get, the more I crave, hunger for this "alone" time.
I also love night photography - I like to see the changing colours as the sun sets and the effects of all the city lights. One of the driving force behind my upgrading from a prosumer to a DSLR is the inability of a prosumer camera to take decent night shots.
Anyway, enough rambling, here is a selection of some of the results of my very first photo outing for your enjoyment!
( Marina Barrage )
- Mood:
pleased


