Gain & Loss

Hell hath no fury like nature’s wrath. In a one week, two natural disasters in Myanmar and Sichuan China have wiped out tens of thousands. Individuals, with families, lives, plans, hopes, jobs, dreams. Life is all but transient. Its incredibly sad, but therein lies a deafening scream to all the living, to seize their moments.

In Sichuan and nearby areas affected by the earthquake, a considerable portion of victims were children trapped under poorly-built school buildings which collapsed in the shocks. Beyond questioning the safety standards of their structures, the sight of schoolchildren lying pallid and lifeless, whether in the arms of grieving parents or waiting for someone to identify them, is heart-breaking. With China’s one-child policy actively implemented since the 1980s, many parents have lost their only child. A little girl sobs uncontrollably in the news, despite Chinese Premier Wen Jia Bao’s repeated attempts to console her.

In Myanmar, the government holds such a tight rein on rescue proceedings, that little is known about the scores of people that need help. It seems ludicrous to me that even reliefs distributed to victims are plastered with names of their leaders, now convenient vehicles to uphold their regime.

Singapore pledged a donation of USD$200 000 to the victims of the Sichuan earthquake. I feel that more can be done though. The Chinese comprise 72.5% of Singaporeans and most of us have ancestral roots based in China. Given the efficiency of the GIRO deduction system, the government could use this to the need of emergency reliefs and deduct small donation amounts. In an ideal world, if every Singaporean donated a dollar, we would have amassed $4.68 million in donations. That’s too small to pinch our pockets, but a sizable donation as a nation, no? Well, this lady took out $100 000 for the victims of cyclone Nargis.

Even if the Burmese government, rumored to be pilfering from relief supplies meant for victims, were to take half of every dollar donated, should we not give so that the victims can receive some form of aid rather than none at all? With the headlines of international news bulletins focused on covering the newest, latest breaking disaster, cameras and reporters are now in China covering the earthquake, and Europe with its impending drought season. This is not helped by the Burmese regime’s reluctance to grant entry visas to foreigners. Consequences for the survivors would be terrible if the world forgot about them.

Today I read a Straits Times report on how investors were scrambling to pump their funds into China’s building and construction market, in view of the imminent demand for contractors to do large-scale rebuilding in disaster regions. I was first filled with interest, then cynicism. Images of crying faces and grey corpses are only what they are; images, to pockets lined with cash. Let us hope that the benefits reaped from their wagers on the earthquake will find a way back into the lives of the survivors and the needy.

For the world moves on quickly, the Sun also rises.

(as they say, the road to hell is) Paved with Good Intentions

Singapore Dreaming is my favourite local film so far, hopefully the pioneer of many more worthy productions in our comparatively fledgling film industry.

This is the essay before the film, that was later published. It has been awhile since an address has hit me with such resonation, the other perhaps being Steve Jobs’ one at Stanford. Curiously, their case-in-points are almost similar.

On the other hand, this is might be the quintessential film on the lives of ordinary Singaporeans - HDB dwellers. No scholars, professionals, nor old money here. Folks who visit the Singapore Pools as faithfully if not moreso, than church or temple devotees. Yet this film is produced by 2 professionals who now call New York home & Dr. Woffles Wu, a top Singaporean plastic surgeon. I do wonder how they manage to hit the nail so sorely on its head, but I guess that is where all the correspondence with HDB-dwelling Singaporeans came in handy.

In Defense of Singapore Cab Drivers.

This post has been sitting at the back of my mind for quite awhile, though I’ve been reluctant to get around to it. Perhaps I feel these guys deserve better, or maybe I’m sick & tired of hearing criticisms of our local cab drivers. Or perhaps I simply feel a slight indignation for my father.

Singaporean cab drivers have made frequent appearances in the local news recently, no thanks to various issues like the adjustment in cab fares, fare touts, Central Business District taxi-stand rules & surcharges, customer complaints, or involvement in accidents.

It is rather often you will hear complaints on expensive cab fares, rude cab drivers, or reckless drivers. I might agree on the latter, certain cab drivers drive wildly on the local roads, just because they are familiar with it. They ply the streets at least 12 hours a day, so unfortunately some are wont to act like they are the boss of the highway. But such behaviour is applicable to all drivers, albeit bad drivers, no?

The cab fare adjustment announced by the consortium of taxi companies has left many consumers disgruntled. Don’t be surprised, but most cab drivers do not have wider smiles after price increase either, due to a decrease in customers. With the recent inflation, everything from food, electricity to petroleum costs more.

Yes, 35% surcharge at peak hours & 50% after midnight might be costly. Although 4 months have passed since the adjustment, cab drivers still report poorer business than before. With taxi rentals likely to increase, these guys are at the mercy of both the consumer & the companies.

People tend to forget that cab drivers are their fellow Singaporean, who similarly has to cope with inflation like everyone else. Moreover diesel prices have gone up, with at least 5 upward revisions in 2007 alone. Unlike most employees who receive CPF contributions & extra bonuses each year, cab drivers have none of these benefits to cope with the inflation. Unlike employees who may take 14 days of medical leave, & make expense claims, cab drivers fork out the day’s rental ($47 for relief drivers & $96 for single cab owners, Comfort) should they fall ill. They work weekends & public holidays, come rain or shine.

A cab driver’s income is solely derived from the day’s earnings, minus overheads of diesel, food and rental. His earnings depends solely on hard work; the number of hours they stay on the road with a customer in the back of the cab.

Singapore’s meter rates are admittedly more expensive within Southeast Asia (Bangkok, Manila & Jakarta, where you are likely to spend at least an hour inside a cab due to traffic jams, thus incurring much higher fares comparatively) , but still cheaper than cosmopolitan Asian cities such as Hong Kong, Taipei & Seoul. It is without doubt cheaper than most cities in other continents, for instance in Sydney, cab rides cost AUD$30-40 on average.

Another rather interesting complaint is people questioning why cab drivers aren’t nicer if they have to fork out heavier fares. I have to admit, it does seem rather ludicrous to expect cab drivers to be friendlier because there is an increase in fares. I wonder if an accountant would be more meticulous, or if an engineer might increase his work-rate, when their paycheck goes up? It is unrealistic, & not to mention rather disarming, to expect your cab driver to deck out the niceties suddenly just because you are paying increased fares, moreover when tipping is not practiced in Singapore.

Most cab drivers possess a friendly disposition by default. They strive to accommodate all sorts of customers, from those looking for a tour guide, to those seeking a chat & the few who cannot stand anything less than a silent journey.

Singaporeans who rile about how cab drivers make a wrong turn or get lost, hear the wrong address or possess a terrible command of English, I hope you might close one eye. A majority of your cab drivers (all Singaporeans, I must say) are aged 50 years & above, uncles, grandfathers and fathers, if you can imagine. They are not infallible, & most are certainly kind enough to return items you leave behind, or give a reasonable discount should they lose their way.

Their English and hearing may not be perfect, but these guys (& ladies) are giving their best. Most of them give free rides to the elderly needy & the disabled. Of the many professions out there, cab drivers are probably one of those who really try to make an honest day’s living.

As with any profession, there are black sheep within the fleet who taint the credibility of cab drivers as a whole. A minute number of fare touts & reckless drivers will always exist. However, for every lousy cab driver, there also exists the ugly Singaporeans who escape without paying fares, dirty cabs with their litter and vomit, or even attempt to rob cab drivers (See today’s Straits Times report).

I can’t help but feel that cab drivers do not deserve the bad reputation, yet when people gather together to criticise these guys (& ladies), I wish they could see this from another point-of-view. At forums & even blogs like Xiaxue, where one person complains about the increase in prices or their less-than-satisfactory ride, many others will find a bone to pick with cab drivers, in perfect unison.

An open mind is such a priceless commodity, its probably what most of us can use right now.

Dad’s Oatmeal

My dad caught a raging flu today, so bad he was Rudolph the red-nosed for most part. He was hungry, & so I tried a hand at oatmeal. Personally I dread oatmeal as breakfast, perhaps its the mushy consistency a la baby-food. My dad simply adores oatmeal (along with Teochew peanut candy, dark Toblerone, curry scissors rice, grapefruit… the list goes on), its his comfort food. Plus, you have to try very hard to fail at making oatmeal.

I once cooked oatmeal for him before I went to bed, & when he came home apparently it had gone so bad it “turned grey”. This time though, in his own words, it was so nice. To see an oatmeal aficionado enjoy an unassuming bowl of oatmeal, its a pleasant surprise. The recipe follows.

Tian Mi Mi

Almost a love story?

As rain poured relentlessly down from the heavens, my heart weighed down guiltier by the moment. My father was out, stuck presumably at his nearest shelter, unable to return home.

He did not bring an umbrella; he had overlooked the chance of an afternoon shower. My father refused my help, saying that he would wait till the rain had simmered down. I hung up relieved, yet guilty. But the shower soon became a thunderstorm & I had to find him. Afterall what are daughters for?

I grabbed my oldest pair of slippers, the ones with no discernible grooves left. I preferred to slip & fall than to wreck a better pair of shoes. The rain was awful. It did not matter that I carried an umbrella, I was drenched.

He was at the pau dian (Chinese bakery). A 5-minute walk became a 10 minute journey in the rain.

But he was not there. I was dismayed. I searched for him with patient anxiety, as parents search for their children in supermarkets. He wasn’t anywhere in the neighbourhood. I was dismayed.

He must be home.

And he was.

It was just like it was in Tian Mi Mi.

Somehow I wished I found him, I wished we had walked home together under the too-small umbrella, I wished we had enjoyed a rare father&daughter moment.

But it wasn’t to be. Under the roar of a late March downpour, I did not find him.

Happiness

Someone once told me that happiness is a state of mind. I laughed at his premise then. If happiness was a state of mind, then sadness, anger, excitement, fear & all emotive feelings would merely be states of mind. Did he mean that humans merely willed themselves into feeling a certain way that seemed plausible?

Then I met someone else, a forty-something who has led a fortunate life thus far, achieving her goals without obstacles. For someone most might imagine to be happy, she wasn’t. She was unhappy, but she confessed that she reminded herself to be glad for everything that she had, & that she had nothing to be unhappy about.

Perhaps happiness is merely a state of mind. Whenever we are unhappy there exists a little voice that tells us to revel in the happiness of all our other little victories. Regardless of our superficial sentiments of the everyday, our emotional core may just be simply, happy.

Happy to have been the X or Y chromosome that won the race.

Happy to have kissed and hugged.

Happy to have quenched our thirst.

Happy to have seen colours.

Happy to see happiness in smiles.

Happy to have felt rain.

Happy to have tasted chocolate.

Happy to have closed our eyes & slept,

& happy to wake to the morning sunshine.

Afternoon Delight

I never thought I’d say this, but I am a public nuisance. Or specifically, a public nuisance-klutz.

You know when it’s raining really heavily, you’re the only one at home(who’s awake) & you realize 10 minutes too late that clothes are still hanging out?

It is undoubtedly one of my least favourite activities in the world. Rightfully so, because I am terrible at taking in clothes, soaked & heavy in the howling wind. No walk in the park. I might even fear it a little. Blame the intimidating grey skies, plus that I can be a terrible klutz.

I dropped it.

I dropped the darn bamboo pole.

I don’t know which part made my heart pop into my mouth, almost falling out of the window, or seeing the bamboo pole drum the concrete pavement with a satisfying thud.

Thankfully it hit no one. As if picking up the laundry in the rain was not punishment enough, the pole snapped & I had to get rid of it before some smirking cleaners.

Blimey.

How was your afternoon?

She said

La famille.

An unfortunate coincidence of strangers flung together, not unlike the 3 other passengers that you are allocated to sit with in a train ride heading to Forever?

I hope not.

She said

A birthday cake bought, out of guilt, by the birthday girl, maketh not a Happy Birthday.

Beer Garden

Two bus stops away from where I live is Bishan Park. There is a Beer Garden there, a sort of 24hour pseudo-family friendly hangout with its own Prawn Farm, live soccer matches & grilled food stalls, and zero greenery. And of course, lots of beer (& ladybeerpushers).

Its by no means the sleaziest, or saddest beer joint around. Nevertheless there are drunks there, as with most coffee-shops around the island. It’s just that I saw the same man on the 3 separate occasions I was there for a casual drink with the Bro. Piss drunk too, because the ladybeerpushers did not hesitate to bring him any more beer.