New knowledge

Today on the bus, I looked through a box of R10 pellets one by one to separate them into rifle and pistol pellets. Contrary to Divya’s belief, just one box was enough for me to master the art of doing so.

I feel so accomplished I can’t resist the urge to record it down somewhere, so here goes.

(Don’t try anything funny, I’ll shove the pellets up the ass of the next person who mixes them up.)

Remnants of my first lou hei

So after 20 years, this is how the legendary lou hei tradition is really like.

With 30 people standing perpendicularly around one pathetic plate of yu sheng, you get:

Flying chopsticks.

Food on hand and arm.

Peanut on hair.

And, everything on the table…

Incredible Coincidence

While fretting for Dyane’s birthday present, I came across an interesting book “Guns, Germs and Steel” by Jared Diamond. I decided to get it for myself and then thought I might as well buy her the book as a gift too. I was still worrying that she might have read it before since it is an old and popular book.

Unbelievably, out of the millions of books and hundreds of book shelves at Kinokuniya, I picked up the exact book that Dyane needed for her TWC readings! I had no clue!

Reality is amazingly surreal sometimes.

Innocence for Sale

Here’s a wonderfully made documentary by a group of NTU students from the School of Communication and Information for their final year project.

Innocence for Sale

We’ve all heard of child prostitution.

But, it has never sounded so sad as this told by the victims themselves. Nor has it ever sounded so real as this which showed how geographically near it is to us and how our own people fuel this outrage of young girls.

This is about a place where survival means either selling out your friends or selling out yourself; where people are treated like commodities or pawns in the sale of people as commodities. It tells the stories of people who struggle to stay alive, even when each day is a living hell.

“I told her, ‘If that’s the case [work in a restaurant or mall], I’ll take it. But if it’s a shameful job, I don’t want it.’
She said, ‘No, I promise it’s not a shameful job. If it is, I wouldn’t have informed your parents.’
I said, ‘I can trust your word right?’
‘Yes’, she said.
But she took me not to a mall, not to a restaurant, but to a dubious karaoke bar.
She was my schoolmate.”

“Telling them that their daughters will be working in a restaurant? I don’t need to lie. I tell them their girls will become prostitutes. Most of their parents agree. The girls’ own parents. Because in a village, if the neighbour has a big and tall house, and he has nothing, he would willingly sell his daughter so that he could be like his neighbour.”

“If it pleases my parents, of course it has to be done, regardless of how much effort it takes.”

“I wanted to commit suicide. I feel tired just thinking about it. I am tired of working like this and being treated like this. But then I thought of my mother, and I stopped thinking about suicide.”

I should stop complaining.

Infinite Beauty

Since Dove’s Campaign for Real Beauty showed its commercials in Singapore, I have read a few blog posts commenting on them.

Many have dwelled on the perceived hypocrisy of the commercial, that because no really “ugly” people were featured in the ads made the campaign ironically aimed only at the “normal-looking”. Then there’s the comment that such advertisements are irritating because it’s no point telling people they’re beautiful when not everyone can be beautiful (she also mentioned how people who are not physically beautiful should pursue other goals).

I can’t agree with these people, because what they say only shows how they are deeply indoctrinated by the warped sense of beauty that the commercialised media world is telling us.

We learned that beauty is measured only on a scale with 2 extremes: the beautiful – big eyes, pouty lips, skinny, busty, smooth hair, good skin; and the ugly – pimply, bad hair, fat, flat-chested. With all the supermodels and celebrities, certain traits are perceived to be more desirable than others and a person can be beautiful only if applied in the physical sense.

Perhaps there is a standard of physical beauty whereby the world functions by. There is one for everything from fashion to architecture. Yet, even with these non-living items, we can be generous in acknowledging beauty when it doesn’t fit into the ‘beautiful’ end of the scale. We accept a piece of cultural clothing as beautiful because of the rich tradition it embodies. We label an architecture as a beautiful landmark if a story that tells of the place can be attached to it.

But unlike a piece of clothing or an architecture, people are not dead and unfeeling. This standard of beauty has destroyed the self esteem of people who do not fit into the positive end. These people are everywhere and they need reassurance from society that they can be beautiful. They need people to tell them that, just like an average looking building can become a tourist attraction if it has a rich culture or a romantic story attached to it, a girl who accepts herself as unique and build for herself an exciting personal story can be just as attractive as those touted with extreme physical beauty.

This is exactly what Dove’s Campaign for Real Beauty is doing. It is telling people to ditch the ideas of physical beauty and be real. It reminds them to be confident about themselves and show their true colours.

In doing this, any real girl can be featured in the ad. Critics that comment that the girls in the ad are “normal-looking” or “attractive” have already put these girls back into the scale of physical beauty.

All the commercial wishes to remind girls is that being beautiful is not limited to the physical aspect for there are infinite ways to be beautiful. Any girl who works hard for herself and is unafraid of showing her virtues can be beautiful in her own unique way.

Indeed, it is difficult to believe that a commercial entity would spend millions on a campaign for purely altruistic reasons, which is why we easily fall into the trap of accusing good campaigns like these of hypocrisy.

Many pointed out that Dove sells and is part of the commercial group that sells products that help enhance physical beauty. However, there really might not be any conflict. Firstly, the products they sell, even slimming pills, though helping to enhance physical beauty can also be necessity items for personal grooming, hygiene and health. Secondly, unlike many other beauty firms, they might not advertise their products by emphsizing the importance of physical beauty in the entire well-being of the person.

An argument that I’m more ready to accept is that commercials are now changing towards appealing to people’s emotions to capture attention.

It is interesting to note this paradigm shift in advertising. On top of promoting products, advertisements aim to show that the company is socially responsible. In the attempt to boost the reputation of the company, many chose to adopt meaningful projects as an organisational mission.

Despite the calculated economic returns on the projects, it would be wonderful if more companies adopted meaningful projects. I would really like to see more commercials that promote a purpose on top of the product.

If media has been so successful in shaping our distorted views of the world, media can also turn all those views into more positive, healthy ones.

Grouchy

In the mood to complain about every damn thing.

It’s the first day of the Lunar New Year, and there’s nothing to do. Confined to the house because NO WHERE is open. I can’t believe it, if they open up I’m sure they’ll make a windfall. I’m so bored I’m googling “Places to go on Chinese New Year” where I’m linked to websites for expatriates which tells expats, “One of the first impressions you’d get during this festive period is the almost total closure of offices and shops, including many eating places. What is Singapore without the food places and shopping!”

Not even the neighborhood swimming pool is open. And to find that out, google got me a link to an outdated page named “latest news” telling me the opening hours of swimming pools on 200-six Chinese New Year. I was happy for a while, until I found the page buried among links which informed me that they’re not open on 2007 Chinese New Year.

To make things worse, they’re showing 3 times re-runs on TV. If I see that Superstar thing again I’ll scream. Yesterday, they showed some kind of historical relic of a movie from 1994. The kind of thing that’s supposed to be shown only on a hot weekday afternoon when no one pays for the commercials and ah-mahs watch for nostalgia’s sake. Not on Chinese New Year.

The only thing new on TV now is the news on ChannelNewsAsia.

The Relativity of Time

Chinese New Year again…

Been hearing a lot of “Time passes so fast!” comments. Yeah, and it’s just so going to get even faster.

Long time ago, I always thought 5 years was a very very long time. At age 7, I can’t remember how it was like being 2 years old. So 5 years must have been a really long time.

But now,
I remember September 11. I remember vividly how I watched it happen on live telecast.
I remember my first day at secondary school.
I remember Micheal Learns to Rocks and can sing to them whenever these ‘oldies’ play on TV or on the radio.

So, 5 years isn’t that long afterall.
And it’s going to get shorter.

You know how they always say if you start reminising the past it means you’re getting old?

Now, being in JC feels like yesterday, but it’s been 2 years. Before I know it, I’ll be 40 years old and I’ll remember the exact time and place and what’s showing on TV when I’m writing this post.

And then, 20 years ago will feel like yesterday.

Why Oiying?

Because I enjoy spelling out and repeating my name 10 times over the phone.

Because for some mysterious reason, people who see my name for the first time think it’s Qiying. Somehow, Qiying is more natural sounding to most people than Oiying. Absolute bullshit.

Because I like the sound made when you hit a person on the head with a saucepan.
“…and he hit him on the head with a saucepan. ‘oooiiiiyyyyiiinngggggggggg’”

Because I am able to find myself by googling without going through 20 pages of links to people I don’t want to be associated with.

Because if I attempted to murder someone but (due to divine intervention) he’s not dead, he won’t remember my name.

Because I can type it with one hand without moving my hand around.

Because I’m secretly amused by the expressions of people who first hear my name.

Because I don’t need to add a string of random numbers and alphabets behind my name when creating a free email account.

Because I can find the blogs of people who keep their blogs top secret but cleverly put a link to my blog.

Because a rose by any other name, still has thorns.

Young and Arrogant

Here’s a very nice song recommended by Weizhen and Steven.

Yesterday When I Was Young
Herbert Kretzmer

Roy Clark

Yesterday when I was young
the taste of life was sweet as rain upon my tongue.
I teased at life as if it were a foolish game,
the way the evening breeze may tease a candle flame.
The thousand dreams I dreamed, the splendid things I planned…
I always built alas on weak and shifting sand.
I lived by night and shunned the naked light of the day
and only now I see how the years ran away.

Yesterday when I was young
so many drinking songs were waiting to be sung,
so many wayward pleasures lay in store for me
and so much pain my dazzled eyes refused to see.
I ran so fast that time and youth at last ran out,
I never stopped to think what life was all about
and every conversation I can now recall
concerned itself with me and nothing else at all.

Yesterday the moon was blue
and every crazy day brought something new to do.
I used my magic age as if it were a wand
and never saw the waste and emptiness beyond.
The game of love I played with arrogance and pride
and every flame I lit too quickly quickly died.
The friends I made all seemed somehow to drift away
and only I am left on stage to end the play.
There are so many songs in me that won’t be sung,
I feel the bitter taste of tears upon my tongue.
The time has come for me to pay for yesterday when I was young.

Beautifully written lyrics.
But I’m too young to appreciate it.

Plus, I have always believed that youth is meant to be filled with stubborness, naivety and arrogance. Youth is meant to be wasted, or maybe, youth is never wasted. Okay, that sounds cliche-ishly profound. How should I put it?

Let’s start by assuming that you get wiser as you get older. And that happens of course from becoming educated, from learning from experience (your own and others’) and from too much junk TV programmes teaching pieces of seemingly important trivia.

The elders who know better, naturally always try to teach the younger generations and impose upon them their will. They tell you to stop wasting your youth, stop fooling around, start thinking proper and plan for your future. And all this, is for your own good.

Yet, it is hard to imagine how any free minded person can listen entirely to these advices. You will be reduced to a mummy’s boy or daddy’s girl with no mind of your own. Well, of course, by this I do not mean that advices from elders are useless. In fact, much of the advices given are extremely valuable. But how can any individual be convinced entirely by advices given by others, let alone a stubborn, arrogant youth with a critical mind and who uses it?

I do not like it, when elders tell me not to do something simply because they have done it before (or they have peers who had done it before) and found it a complete mistake. They call it a wasted route that they do not want me to trample upon too. But how would they know it was a wasted route, had they not gone through it (or seen people who experienced it)? And since they learnt that it was a mistake, how could it have been a wasted route? They have emerged from it, older and wiser and able to give me advice.

And again, this does not mean you should start eatting berries that your ancestors from eons ago have labelled to be poisonous. Man has progressed and is superior to other animals because of this unique ability to teach the young so their youngsters do not need to reinvent the wheel. (Another piece of trivial from some documentary or article I read long ago.)

Naturally, facts cannot be changed and is valuable when passed on. But advices on what to do with my life will have to fall on deaf ears because I’m never convinced unless I convince myself so.

One thing my mum told me she did that I am very impressed with, was she, after giving 2 warnings in vain for me to not touch the hot teapot, push my hand to touch it so I could feel the pain and not do it again. And I didn’t.

The wonder and attractiveness of youth is the arrogance that comes with it – being completely ignorant yet believing strongly in you own opinions and ideas.

Just like this post I’m writing. There’s a nagging feeling at the back of my head that I’m entirely wrong, yet I can’t help but feel utterly convinced and will defend till the end of my youthfulness what I feel strongly about now.

Still, I’ll like to leave a message for the me of 30 years later (if this blog is still around or rediscovered by technological archaeology). Perhaps I would feel strongly for this song then (just like many others), because I know better and know that I have wasted my youth away doing or not doing things. But this 20 year old Oiying will not change what she is doing now to what a 50 year old Oiying might think she should have done.

Therefore, if 30 years from now, there is a way to turn back time, don’t bother.

Random traveling

Somehow, I didn’t feel like taking the usual long bus ride route to training today.

I flipped through the bus guide hoping to find an alternative but couldn’t. So I gave up and went to the usual bus stop, but the bus left as I was reaching it.

Might as well! I boarded the next bus that went in the general direction of Bukit Batok.

The entire trip today was made up of alighting when I felt like and taking another bus in the direction of where I was heading to.

Time was not an issue. Since I was the only one going to training I didn’t care about being late. After a morning A+ presentation on motivation, I have ironically no idea how to and no confidence in motivating the members to go for training. Tired and frustrated, and still receiving smses informing me of their absence from training while on the buses.

I alighted when I happened to be standing near the bus exit.
I boarded the first bus that came.
I alighted when the bus got too crowded with sweaty JC students after a run.
I boarded the first bus to Bukit Batok that came.

That bus took me through the Hillview condominium estates, then it went past the long forgotten swimming complex I used to go to. After which I alighted absolutely sure that I was lost.

But lucky me happened to have alighted at the bus stop with the bus that will take me to the range – The usual one I take.

So 4 buses, a tour of old places and 1.5 hours later, I reached the range with lanes booked for SMU students, but no SMU student in sight. In fact, the range officers are so used to it they have conveniently given those lanes away to others.