People & languages in an inter-connected world

Stumbled across a website with an amazing idea. It’s a language exchange: but instead of finding a penpal and exchanging emails and the like (I’ve tried something like that before but the site didn’t seem to work very well), in this one you treat the site like a blog and post up entries in any language you’d like. Other people correct your posts, and you in turn correct posts for other people who wrote entries for themselves in your native language. As a bonus, because it feels like blog-browsing, I’ve been able to learn a lot about people living in other parts of the world. I think it’s an amazing system, and I’m looking forward to seeing how well it turns out. (Lang-8, if anyone is interested)

It also has been really nice to be able to write posts and share them, something I’ve been reluctant to do with this blog lately – probably because it’s entirely open to the public. The older I get, the more I think to myself ‘oh, I shouldn’t write my views about this or that, because it might get seen by my future boss - - - oh, what if I become a politician’ … There were good points to being young and naïve!

One thing I’d like to write about, though, is that recently I met old man that I got along well with, who invited me for tea and cakes. We must have had very different backgrounds, and were obviously in rather different stages of life – so it was nice to chat. When I mentioned my ‘I wanted to get out and see the world’ sentiment (per a post below) he threw in his thought that “it feels like everywhere you go, no matter how different the place is, people are the same: and you’ll find some that are just like you and some and are not”. No matter how easy it is to connect with people across the world now, people are the same – perhaps.

Possibilities

[edited]

I was watching a young boy on the train today, who was peering at a map of the Singapore transportation network. His excited expression sort of reminded me of myself studying the London tube map, thinking how amazing the extent of the network was, and how I had never seen anything like it before. Who knows, maybe in some ten years that same boy will be able to look at the Singapore map with even more fascination than today as this metropolis grows and heads in the direction of other mega cities.

I came back this summer in time for nation-wide celebrations marking Singapore’s 50th independence anniversary. It was a good time to look back at the last 50, last 100 years to see where this place has arrived from, and I guess, trying to put it simply, Singapore has always been a place for immigrant people to find a livelihood, work for themselves, and somehow get tied up with the land along the way. To an extent, it still is like that today, even if the face of the nation is now very different from the past. What has been constant here is that the land and its people seem to change very quickly, continually adapting to the circumstances; and since independence that attitude has been mostly beneficial. So if adapting and looking to the future is a good recipe for success, I sincerely hope that this nation continues to do so, and that it changes wisely as well, so that those little kids can continue to enjoy modern train rides, and so that bigger kids like me can be proud of my homeland.

Local drink in a non-local mug

A short story and an unasked question

He laughed, replacing the shirt back on to its hanger. It was the most absurd thought he had had the whole day, so far. When the lawyer found out he worked from home, the legal practitioner had suggested that they meet at the coffee shop near his house – “I don’t stay too far from you, after all”. They would meet in fifteen minutes’ time. Lim had instinctively reached for a crisp shirt he kept at the back of his wardrobe – he rarely dressed up – while wondering where he kept his belt. This was to be a serious legal discussion. You have to be dressed appropriately when you sign at the bottom of the page. He had then stopped himself. The last time he visited the office, the assistant, Jenny, had smiled and told him it was perfectly fine to dispense with the pleasantries and formality while dealing with their firm. He’d smiled back and told her he’d prefer it that way, too. He considered that this modus operandi should probably also apply to the lawyer that he was meeting for the first time. Should he dress up? This was a meeting at a coffee shop, for heaven’s sake. He was the client! He could do whatever he liked. Lim walked to the doorway, picking up a comfortable pair of loafers as he let himself out of the house.

While walking to the coffeeshop, a pang of self-consciousness struck him once again, and Lim wondered if his black and white “I love Krabi” T-shirt was not too sloppy for the occasion. It was nevertheless certainly what he was used to: he was a reclusive software designer, and this occasion of filing a patent and selling on his idea was one of the few times that required him to step out of the house. He was thus far more used to dressing comfortably than dressing to impress. Lim felt a mix of reactions when he located the lawyer sitting at one of the coffee shop tables, decked out in shorts, slippers and a plain T-shirt, a briefcase placed on the chair beside him. On the one hand he felt like laughing at this flippant lack of ceremony, and on the other, he was glad that the lawyer was as informally attired, if not more dressed down, than he was. The indecision did not last very long. Lim decided this state of affairs comfortably suited him.

He pulled out a chair and sat down. He wanted a “milo-bing”.

As the hare flies

Itch itch.

I’ll be flying overseas for studies, in a matter of weeks.

If you want to know how I feel about that I’ll tell you that I’m a rather lazy, reticent sort of person that loves “home” because home is familiar. And lately, the importance of “home” has been underscored by all the age-seasoned bonds and friendships that I’ve been fortunate enough to have here. I would love to stay with all you people that mean so much to me, if I could.

Regardless, I’ll tell you that I’m eager to go. Right now, if possible; or soon, please, otherwise! And that’s because I have a deep desire to see the wide world out there. If you’ve played Civilization or any strategy game with a large world map, you’ll be familiar with the trade-off between exploring and keeping to home ground. I say that one should explore even without apparent need to – because the fact that there are lands out there is a calling in itself. In a game you might be rewarded with a treasure or two – or at very worst you’d get to meet a few new AI friends – but in the real world who knows what one might yield from striking out into the horizon? Inspiration, no doubt, and purpose, possibly.

In Che Guevara’s diaries the fellow irrevocably sets out from home on a motorbike, and somewhere along the way finds his life’s mission. No doubt there’s something to take out of that... 

I’m particularly glad that where I’m going – Manchester – seems like it would make a good base to see many other parts of the world. I’m looking to find a like-minded travel buddy or two (someone equally poor and budget), but there’s no hurry for now. At the moment I’d just like to look ahead and say that a future of possibilities is exciting. Certainly it’s not all rainbows and butterflies out there, but I don’t think I’m being too optimistic in declaring that it’s a wonderful world that God has created, and I’m delighted at being able to see it.

To all of you who dream of ORD

Army Fatigue

Who would have thought
That a uniform, spotted,
Printed, pixelised
Could hold the entire history
Of my universe?
Sweat fading brown dots
Bloody red mingling with the green
Tears making fabric
Perhaps coarser

Someday, outside barb wired fences
When our fatigues are as
Tired by duty as us
Will we hold worn garment
Closely – remembering how mirth and
Friendship intertwine scarred threads
Or shall we shred old memories
Into the deep recesses
Of wastebins?

Gideon Chew
Oct 2010

At Basic Military Training school

After nine weeks of BMT, all that’s left to do is to see the route which I’m headed for next. Officer, specialist or man. That, and to wait for the final Graduation Parade where I’ll be throwing my cap into the air. I suppose throwing a cap is ordinary enough, but I’m really looking forward to it because it marks the end of this period as a lousy recruit. A recruit’s life is not bad, really, but it will be a pleasure to move on and not be bossed around any longer. “Any recruits here? I need some help.” At 2 am in the morning. Uh, disgusting.

What I will miss is Rocky Hill camp. When we first moved in, we thought our camp was merely a deserted outpost in the middle of the jungle (which isn’t too far fetched, because it’s the old, abandoned SISPEC camp anyway… in the middle of the jungle). On the other hand, the recruits over at the Ladang HQ were getting laptops, internet and all sort of other out-of-this-world stuff. We thought we were worse off, but I think I really enjoyed the stay at Rocky Hill and I’d easily choose it over Ladang… Who wants laptops in the BMT anyway? It’s an extra weight to look after. Rocky Hill was wonderful because the bunks were huge, the air was cool and fresh, good scenery, and no high ranking commanders to watch out for. It was also good to be able to catch glimpses of one or two good friends in neighbouring Quebec and Yankee companies there.

Three coolest things in BMT:

1. Throwing a hand grenade. I was lucky because I wasn’t even supposed to throw it at all…was on Att B. I can tell you, the feeling of holding a real, live explosive thing in your hand and being afraid of it, then throwing it and feeling all that fear leave… is an amazing experience.

2. My encounters with animal life. The most interesting incident was digging my shellscape and finding and nest of eggs, about 8 or 9 large white ones, the size of an M&M chocolate. Not the small no-kick M&M's, it was the size of those M&M's with peanuts inside… maybe slightly bigger. I smashed one with the blade of my digging apparatus and found a snake inside. At least it was a long body with a bulging head. There were no feet at all to be seen, but my sergeant said it could be a lizard with its feet not fully developed. I was, and still am, hardly convinced, but I didn’t have a choice and shifted the eggs somewhere else and slept in that shellscape that night. No mama snake came to disturb me, thankfully… Besides that, I did see a long brown snake sliding across our field camp site once. Also, we saw a few wild boar, a monster centipede crawled up the latrine wall centimetres away when I was squatting down relieving myself, and I once crawled into bed in my bunk and found a bee inside the blanket. Luckily, nothing misfortunate happened - I didn't get stung or anything - so all those incidences became vivid, unforgettable memories to talk with friends about.

3. Having an awesome BMT company, Zulu Coy. We had wonderful commanders, especially our OC, who was like some angel always watching out for us and explaining things to us… I think my platoon performed pretty well, on the whole. We received a lot of praise from our commanders, and generally we weren’t pumping very much. Zulu was also champion for Games Day, and the feeling is great when your company wins and over two hundred people, commanders included, are ecstatic. I do think we’ll be crowned best company in the coming week. Hopefully. But even if we’re not, we’ll no doubt be too busy throwing our caps up to be disappointed.

Freedom

Another seven days and I’ll be enlisting into the Singapore Armed Forces (SAF).

Spent the last few months very blissfully. Caught up with friends, ate a lot of good food, did the things I dreamt of doing during my two years studying for A levels. For one, I had a backpacking trip to Malaysia with some close SAJC friends. Just four of us, without a car, but with the keys to my mum’s Perak house. We relied on coaches to get around. Stopped at Genting and KL too for the attractions/sightseeing/theme park. Real awesome. Below’s a pic of the twin towers at night, which was a lot prettier than I expected.

Also, I spent one and a half months working at the HDB. The job paid really well, 7/hr for doing simple admin work, and the office staff there were exceptionally nice to me. During my final two days, they sent me off with a party, treated me to lunch, and gave me presents. I think that is wonderfully extravagant; I was just a temporary office helper. Thank you God for such great friends at the job.

Comically, I worked overtime every Friday for six weeks - because no one told me work ends half an hour earlier on Fridays. Haha, dang. Where I’m headed for the next two years, though, that won’t be a problem 8)