A Singaporean In Australia

I used to joke about the Big 4 sunset careers in Singapore, namely SMRT (Security, McDonald's, Recycler, Taxi Driver) only that it wasn't funny when I realised how many locals ended up in one of these vocations after their useful shelf lives. Of course not everyone in that situation had been forced to cast their eyes on 'SMRT'. At least, from a neighbour I spoke to, he chose to take up a taxi license after he left his cushy civil service job because he was too tired of the bureaucratic crap and felt apprehensive about trying out in the corporate environment. Understandably so, since I had been there before. I knew exactly how he felt, though I wouldn't exact encourage him to rule out future possibilities for good. After all, he wasn't exactly anywhere near retirement age and was probably still quite employable.

Though not usual, there are times where the grass is actually greener on the other side. But taxi driving is probably not one of them. The attraction of 'being one's own boss' is the biggest advertisement to the trade. However, as far as I'm concerned, that had been long vanquished when the government decided to stop issuing taxi licenses to individuals and corporatizing the industry. But the taxi giants were smart enough to maintain the 'being one's own boss' notion by repackaging the concept altogether, creating the illusion for taxi hirers that they have the freedom of that entrepreneurs enjoy. Some may argue, any entrepreneur of small capital start ups have to rent and work without annual or sick leave for long hours everyday. So a taxi driver is not very different in that sense. I don't agree with that. A real person 'running his own business' has the opportunity to grow his business and even get out from renting by purchasing his own premises one day. A taxi driver can neither own his cab and stop paying rent even if he can afford it nor own a fleet of cabs and hire his own drivers. That is a key difference. So to me, the taxi operators have passed a bulk of their business risk to their drivers and put themselves in a no-lose situation. Taxi drivers are left to their own devices, taking up one of the most risky jobs in Singapore. Imagine you are told by your company you can come to work as and when you like but you have to rent your own seat in the office, you will be given no leave, no CPF and employment benefits and your income depends on how much you work but you can neither set your own pricing nor innovate your work processes to be different from the others in your office. Is that 'being a boss?'

The cabbie of 20 years who drove me on Chinese New Year Day 1 told me most taxi drivers stopped driving after a few years, some even as short as a few months. Not many of them survived in the trade for 20 years like him because they couldn't stand the stress of daily scrutiny from random people and technology alike. [Read Gintai's account for more details] The taxi driver told me that ultimately, the secret of lasting so long in the industry was passion in the job, such as enjoying driving in general.

I met nobody who collect scrap metals or cardboard for a living this CNY. No Mc Donald's staff either. But it seemed like security jobs were in rage. Almost every man in my family had been and still worked as a security guard. In fact, one of my uncle who learnt that I finally returned for my first CNY visit in two years, asked to talk to me on the phone and apologised for not turning up that day because he wanted to work overtime. He told me it was a golden income opportunity he couldn't convince himself to miss out on. Not only he would be paid over time allowance, he would be able to collect $400-500 of ang bao money from passing cars on a single day alone. That would be substantial over the first 2-3 days of CNY. He apologised again and told me he really wanted to meet Albany for the first time. I told my uncle not to worry about that and I would have done the same thing if I were in his shoes.

Personally, it was sad to see how the elders end up in their careers. There wasn't much choices for people over their middle ages other than cleaning, security and if you have health to burn, taxi driving. It had been an eye opener to see many senior employers in retail, hotel, tourism, trades and many more industries earning a 'living wage' - more about that in one of the coming posts.

The steamboat experience was good. A good occasion that overshadowed my birthday. When one was arrived at that kind of age, birthdays were no excitement. Gone were the days birthdays were meant to be occasions of enjoyable. I spent the day helping out to make the reunion dinner a better one.

Many Chinese still practice the  traditional reunion dinner on the eve of the Chinese New Year. It symbolises unification. As someone who had been away for reunion dinners for the past 2 years, this one held special significance to me. It was interesting to experience one like that. So that was how millions of Chinese from the past who leave their hometowns to work in other provinces or overseas for prolong periods felt coming back for dinner with the rest of the family.

It was a simple steamboat by any standards. No fuss, no exceptional ingredients. Not that we needed any. The steamboat pot was only purchased a few hours before dinner, when my desperate mum pulled me along to do a last minute shopping at the mini mart nearby. Nice pot. I told Jen to pack it up after dinner. With that, we would have nice meals during the coming Autumn and Winter nights. Mum would not miss it for sure once the warmer days returned to Singapore.

It was frightening to receive birthday greetings from the secondary school brothers. Some people never forget your birthdays - way before Facebook and mobile phones were created. You knew life had been kind to you when you realised you had a couple of such buddies. What frightened me was more than 2 decades had past since I met them. And my baby daughter pawing me, begging for a hug, seemed to be as tall as my hips already. Before long, she chuckled in delight as she mistook the birthday song as hers. The song might be meant for me but my birthday was meant for both her mother and her. As the memories of the bladder cancer lingered at the back of my mind, I was grateful for my existence. Every birthday from there would mean something different to me. Many years ago, I was given the gift of life on this day. This year all I wished for was the gift of making it to the next. I thought I had more to offer for everyone.

Much had to be spent on health this year.

It was 12 am. I was walking distances alone. Much have changed since I last walked through the streets here. Within a year or two, it looked like a regular neighbourhood. It still felt the same, like I had never left. I would wake to see dawn if I made rest there and then. Such was the trust of the streets, who knew who I was.

In a flash, thirteen years had gone by since I first met Jenny. I kept this series as my time capsule to remind myself time waits for no man. It seemed only yesterday we moved to Perth, five months into the pregnancy of Albany. Ten days ago, little Albany turned two. Five days ago was our 3rd wedding anniversary. Or was it 4th? It should be the 4th. It was a sign that the book of memories was getting thicker. 

For the past two, three weeks, Jen and I had probably watched more movies than the entire thirteen years we knew each other. Jen had always enjoy movies but we rarely do that because I hate the movie experience in Singapore. Often, I need to travel through the traffic of Singapore, squeeze with the crowd, watch the beautiful silhouette of the giant in front, experience a free manual chair massage from the asshole at the back, endure with additional narration from movie go-ers and creative sound effects of popcorn crunching. And crying babies - I don't hate that but crying babies and movie simply don't mix. Over time, my friends thought I didn't appreciate movies and my invitations dwindled. Eventually I started to believe that myself only to discover it wasn't true after we watched the first movie at the comfort of our living room by ourselves after Albany went to bed.

Albany wasn't the baby like she used to and had became more independent, such as visiting her potty in the toilet herself and started picking up words to communicate with us. The day before she climbed down the stairs, wore her own shoes and wailed by the door in the dark. She didn't know how to express that but it was clear she wanted a 'gai gai'. I had been meeting her increasing needs of a growing toddler by taking her to the park after work to let her run, climb and put her on her favourite swing. She just learnt how to use a slide. I was convinced these moments were reasons to live. On some nights before I slept, thoughts of sacrificing these moments with my child due to work sent shivers down my spine. The prospects of losing all and these and being forced to return to Singapore one day was more fearful than the daunting experience of leaving the safe island into the unknown. We moved to Perth with an adventurous attitude with a mild mix of rebellious and willfulness. I hoped to find peace but didn't expect happiness.

To a large extent, happiness is about how much control we have in our lives. The higher the level of control, the more accessible we are to happiness. The move here was a prime example of that but it was only the beginning of the story. Much needs to be done to increase the level of control. Twenty seven months had passed since we moved to Perth. I had achieved little after the first twelve months. Cancer was a distraction but it shouldn't be an excuse. 2014 is the year. The project has to start this year.

I had a rare opportunity to install some steel racks in the workshop. It was the first time I had all the time in the world and no main contractor or safety officer behind my back. When I was doing this sort of thing in Singapore, I was merely running the project, so this would be the first time I actually did the work myself, with the help of both the factory workers of course. Everyone in the company cast doubting looks, except the boss of course. He simply brought me the tools I asked for and went for his short work trip to the East. Curious eyes fixed on us during the various stages of the small project, I wished they would just leave me alone. Soon enough, they disappeared once they found the workshop too hot, too noisy and too dusty to handle. Hopefully they secretly told themselves that they wouldn't want to do my job. Your job wouldn't be a threat if nobody wanted to do it. For anyone who wondered why the company was paying me that amount of money for my seemingly easy 'routine work', they should be aware that was because my job involved taking up anything that wasn't routine that comes my way. These were not common occurrences but they would happen for certainty.

Work wasn't easy as I thought it was. I identified the typical pitfalls and tried to avoid committing these mistakes but I still did. The differences between practical and theory were glaring. Neither school includes human stupidity and that every human has an opinion in their manual. I used to tell my mother she wasted all her money sending me to school. I didn't want her to do that because I felt education did nothing for me and I was just a passenger throughout, learning nothing except to craft wily ways to pass all my examinations and graduate. But my mother insisted I complete my university education and told me I could do whatever I want after that, she wouldn't bother about me thereafter. This was when I realised the wisdom in her mentality.

I used to think education wasn't important because once we got into the working world, most of what we learnt in school would not be put to use. The seniors at work would not hesitate to take a potshot whenever a newbie makes a mistake or appear dumb not knowing what to do. The nicer ones would put an arm around the shoulder and had said, "The school would not teach you this, now watch." The mean ones would simply put you down as often as they could, especially if you were higher educated than themselves. Eventually, the working society had little regards for education and only saw it as a qualifying ticket to get a job. Networking, EQ and working smart are the keys, nothing else matters, they said. And we believed that because it seemed right.

On hindsight, that was a terrible disease of our society. It was so bad that students were simply looking to pass their examinations than actually seeking, absorbing knowledge. Begging for exam tips, hard memorising, some even exchanged sexual favours to get an easy route to goal. 读死书， 死读书，读书死. We just wanted to get that ticket then we would rely on our EQ and networking skills to go far in life. Fuck the exams, fuck knowledge.

Only when workers kept asking me questions, I finally realised and manage to shrug off the shroud off my musty brain. Such as, "How do we lift this rack?" I stopped for a moment and wondered why their different doubts had never been a question in my mind. None of us had the solution off our fingertips. The difference between them and me was that I knew it could be done. The challenge was to lift a heavy irregular, non systematical structure as upright as possible so that it could be lowered to the mounting bolts and installed with minimal difficulties. It didn't help when I realised there was only a 1mm clearance with each of the holes on the mounting plate. We had to be very precise, there was no room (literally) for errors.

I had learnt that before. We had some fun calculating how to find the centre point of any structures such that it balances and will not flip over when we do a single point lift. It was magic. Alas in the real working world, there would be safety requirements to hoist any object over a certain weight by two or more points. That emphasize my point about people losing faith in education. "Study so much for fark? All forget, or cannot be used in practical life." If I never believed that, I would solve my problem that day and balance the rack in a single attempt. My workers were already tying all kinds of exotic patterns on the rack and yakking to each other in their foreign languages, much to my annoyance. I shut them out, focused my glare on the rack for a few good minutes and visualised, hoping to imagine a solution out of my mind.

Then I snapped out of my thoughts, picked up a single belt and did a simple loop over the top beam and signaled one of them to drive the forklift into the loop. When I got it where I wanted it, I ordered the guy to lift. He obliged, though still in doubt. When the rack was lifted high enough, he stopped. "It would swing and hit me if I lift it further." I told him not to worry and listened exactly to my instructions and guided him to move forward and lift up at the same time only at my call. When the last end of the rack was lifted off the ground, it did swing, but so marginally that all I had to do was to balance it with my hands. There it was, an odd shaped structure lifted upright with just a belt and no cranes, a magnificent sight. My workers were visibly excited.

The previous mentality was so wrong. Education should not be about the paper chase like the way we know in our Singapore society today. Education should have always been about seeking knowledge not to find a job, but to gain the wisdom of providing solutions to the problems of the society.

I have only 6-7 projects under my belt in my short 2 years in the construction industry, some of them are decent highlights for any portfolio and many of them are multi-million projects. None of them though, inspired me like this simple one of erecting just 6 steel racks. I spent all the time fighting wars and politicking in our jobs right from the start like everyone else in the industry spare no second to appreciate. I shut my world out of this ever since I came and didn't even want to answer the people who asked me why I didn't consider a return to 'my profession' in Singapore. I think I was so tramatised about the industry that I had totally lost faith in it. My mum would be sad to hear that because she kept telling me over and over how different I was with the other kids and I was building things all the time with anything when I was a kid. Sometime back, someone rejected when I volunteered to do his home tiling job because he "wanted a professional job." That was the first and last time I offered anyone my help because while I had no more aspirations in building, I wanted to keep a last ounce of  pride within me.

It isn't my business people get the 'pros' to do their decking or tiles. It wasn't my pocket. I told Jen I would build a house with my bare hands if I am allowed to do so. It would be a better house than any of these builders here can do and at a lower cost too. Yet, it would never be approved by the council, or anyone, of course.

Casey wasn't the first foreign big mouth annoying the hell out of Singaporeans and he wouldn't be the last either. Where foreign expats are concerned, there are bad ones, there are good ones and that will not change in the future. That doesn't tell us much about foreigners, as if Singaporeans are really interested to know them better. If anything, the Anton Casey saga tells us more about ourselves more than foreign expats.

Now that the dust has settled, we should ask ourselves why we got so worked up with that 'poor people' comment. I am beginning to suspect that our Government's reluctance to draw the poverty line of Singaporeans because of they fear the consequences and see no benefits of doing so. Instead they are focusing on helping the 25% of Singaporeans that they defined as needy (revealed unwittingly?) Thus I'm convinced there is a poverty line drawn recently, if not all along. The Government didn't want you to know and perhaps now we can see why. After this Anton Casey incident, I am sure the last thing the Government wants to do is to call a portion of Singaporeans, "poor".

Poor people takes public transport. That is a sad fact and Singaporeans know that. I know not everyone who takes the train are that poor. There are people who chose to take public transport for practicality or prudent reasons, not that they cannot afford to drive a car to work. But that doesn't take away the fact that the average folks on the road are generally wealthier, or at least having a higher income at that moment, than the average Singaporeans on the trains and buses. I don't have the figures to show for that but I don't think it is difficult to agree on that. So why are we so pissed off when somebody tells us we are poor? Two reasons. 

1) We don't think we are poor. 

2) We feel that being poor is a shameful thing.

Basically these two points are the same thing. No one in the world enjoys being labelled poor (doesn't matter we are really poor or not) but especially so for Singaporeans. Perhaps after decades of decades being told we are the best, we have formed a unique materialistic Singaporean ways of thinking about ourselves. So our self righteous aura crank up a indignation self defense against the "Si ang mo" who dared to show Singaporeans who are the poor not being aware that Anton Casey is just a reflection of ourselves if we reach his economic status with the same materialistic conscious within us. We are Casey and he is us. Hard truth, people.

Unfortunately, though it doesn't feel good to hear that from the big mouth of Casey, our public transport does stink. Don't we feel so ourselves? Given the option of driving through the city in a convertible (even with haze) or smelling armpits in the MRT train, which will you take up if you have the luxury of the former option? If each of us is to fill up a feedback form for SMRT, the magnitude of our comments will dwarf Casey's.

I am not speaking up for Casey. He has his British humour and I have done my share of Singaporean humour to honour his effort. I will never condone foreigners throwing their weight around like as if they own the place no matter what his social standing is. I dropped these few points just to illustrate how inconsistent our sense of objectivity is. Most of us, being brought up in this system, see economic standings over a worth of a human being. The handful of us who make it to Casey's position will be the same cocky, snobbish bastard that looks down on majority of the Singaporean population. Under the skin colour, we are just the same, ugly materialistic monster.

Being a scumbag on Chinese New Year is easy but being THE Scumbag takes a lot more than that. Like how the western Halloween practice of dressing up like turds (without the kids Trick-or-Treat yet though) picking up momentum in Singapore, it is kinda fast becoming a national tradition to play scumbag on CNY. So with less than 10 days to go, here is a quick crash course for all you lazy scumbag wannabes.

How do you ply your trade if you blend in with the crowd? Needless to say, a CNY scumbag has to wear that attire to stand out from the crowd, better if the attire pisses people off - that would be half the battle won. Choosing your battle suit is up to your own creativity. Here is a sample for you. Basically, get something that pisses people off and print it on your T-shirt or something. I trust you scumbags for doing better than that.

A soldier carries a rifle, a magician holds a wand. A CNY scumbag cannot turn up to a house visit without props. Again, it could be anything that brings a frown to the face or create an eerily awkward situation. For example you can print out the following in the form of a brochure and make sure every single adult and their children get hold of a copy. Bonus tip: Recite the contests of your brochure loudly, ending your speech with the customary, "Huat ah!" Then go around shaking hands and wishing everyone a Happy New Year.  

Share your success story with everyone following the 4Cs framework below:

Car

Although you would have already honked your new expensive car like a groom would fetch his bridge on his wedding day before you turn up, it is important to show everyone what was making the din earlier on. Do your rounds and show everyone a well taken photograph of your new car. Move on from disinterested parties and pull the interested faces to the window to point out to them which is your new car. Apologise that you are unable to give them a ride home later on.

Chiobu

Bring along your chiobu girlfriend. If you don't have one, rent one. Make sure you introduce her to everybody. If any male relatives start staring, quickly move on to the next person. Make sure one of your hands rest on her bum at all times.

Career

Share with everyone how successful your previous year had been. #1 real estate agent or trader, whatever. A 6 months bonus, a 2 week company retreat to Maldives fully paid for, a double promotion and a 50% wage increment. Tell them proudly that you contributed to the National wage increment statistics PTC used to decide how much transport fare they are increasing next April.

Children's results

Bring along your child of course. If you don't have one, rent five. If chronological details cannot be explained logically, tell your relatives they are adopted child of you and your chiobu girlfriend (make sure your hand is still on her butt, giving them a light squeeze occasionally) Ask every child how did they fare in their last final exams and told him that your child (choose one nearest to his/her age) did much better even without studying, as you took the whole family to Maldives (stressed it's fully paid for) before the final exams. Don't miss any child out. Place a hand on the shoulder of their parents and shake your head a little and sigh, "Geniuses are born, not groomed."

To single younger cousins: Ah Lian/Ah Kow, got boyfriend/girlfriend already bo?

To attached cousins: Where is your boyfriend/girlfriend? Ooor busy ah, I thought break up already.

If more than one cousins brought along their SOs: (purposely mistaken the pairings) Oh! So you are Siao Kow's girlfriend ah? Hahaha. I thought is Ah Chye's girlfriend because she suits him better. Couple look lah. hahaha.

To older single cousins: Alamak, haven't got girlfriend/boyfriend ah? Need me to intro you bo? Hey are you still virgin? (Laugh out loud and make sure the Uncles & Aunties join in)

To older attached cousins without kids: Adoi, why haven't got baby? (mock whisper) Hey I got this uncle at Marine Parade reputation damn good. After visit confirm got baby, ai mai?

To older attached cousins with kids: Why one only? Cannot afford? Cannot be lah, look at me 5 kids I also surviving. Singapore Government encourage and support one, cannot afford is not excuse. You are not patriotic lah, maybe you should move to Australia, since your kids results so lousy.

Trolling elders

To ah ma/ah kong: Wa Ah Kong! Heng I still see you around man. So happy.

To uncles: Alamak uncle, you need to go Beijing 101

To aunties: Oi oi oi gugu, (gestures dramatically, point to your T-shirt and shake your head) Tsk tsk tsk tsk, your waistline there like Bak Chang. Today CNY leh, not Dumpling day.

Announce loudly you have to leave and collect any ang baos for your five rented children. Be the first to leave. Repeat process as many times as possible at different locations. When you decide to call it a day, sack the children and send them away with the Mandarin oranges and some candies you pocketed from visits earlier on. You may keep the chiobu for research purposes.

Post any badly taken pictures of relatives or friends in awkward poses, if any. Rank them in terms of looks and their costume of the day. Rank the food and give crude comments such as, "This soya chicken is so raw that it laid an egg on the table." Tag the chefs. Produce an excel spreadsheet of how much each person gave in their ang baos and upload it for everyone to see. Tag them, if available.

#7 - "Huat ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

During the Lao Yu Sheng ceremonies (be it company or private event) Make sure your "Huat ah!" overshadow everyone else's. Stand on the chair and go frenzy with your chopsticks while shouting. Ensure there is nothing left in the dish after that so that everyone has to pick up bits around the table or on the chair you were standing on.

#8 - Closure

On the last day of the CNY, post a new status with a fuck face, "CNY is sooo boring." and make sure you include at least 5 different long #fuckinghashtagsnoonegivesafuckabout

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

This guide is a compilation from friends and my own observations. 

Credits roll:

Enrica Yuan FML

Maggie Teo

and the scumbags I've met.

Thank you for reading

I don't normally write about baby stuffs. At this moment, my little daughter is falling asleep on my chest, chin resting on my left shoulder, pinning me down flat on the bed in the process. She is clinging to me so hard that I can feel her heartbeat against mine and may be already asleep by now. I don't want to disrupt her until she falls into deep slumber, so it seems like I will have time to spare until I can flip her over to sleep on her mattress. Jen handed me my laptop earlier. Positioned on my thighs in a sit up position, there lies me inspired to do this writing this while I wait.

A few weeks ago, my wife Jen showed me a video clip of me giving the 1 day old Albany her first bath in the hospital under the watchful eye of the midwife. She was such a tiny bundle then, smaller than a turkey roast but wow she could really cry. In a few days time, Albany will turn 2 years old. Experienced parents reading this will find it hard to resist a cackle. The worst is just the beginning, yes I know. Maybe it will be but considering I had never thought of being a parent and knew nuts about parenting, the early days of parenting were a tad more nightmarish for me than most fathers would be prepared for. But I arrived. And I will simply keep going and take things as they come. That is in fact, the universal rule of parenting because you can never be prepared enough for what's going to come your way.

I'll like to share some observations of mine during my first 2 years of fatherhood. They aren't anything out of the blue and I believe many of you will resonate with them. Nonetheless I hope you'll find them interesting.

Albany taught me that babies see the world very differently as adults. She plays with whatever that intrigue her, though the object may be extremely plain an boring to an adult. To adults, that may be amusing because we feel the child does not seem to understand value but if we stop to think about it, we are wrong. They understand intrinsic value according to their true interest, not the price tag behind it. That gave me a few moments to think over the true meaning of rationality. How often have we consume a product or went for a trip because it was marketed over what is good for ourselves or what we want for our lives? 

Except for breastfeeding, there isn't any task a mother does naturally better than a father. I started my first week of parenthood jumping out of bed to pick up Albany when she cried at night, burped her after her feed, cleaned her, wrapped her, soothed her to sleep while Jen recovered from her Caesarean section wounds. Jen looked clumsy in her baby handling by the end of the week. After I returned to work, she gradually became a pro at taking care of the baby's needs. These are all about practicing, hardly about natural instincts.

Like building a great rapport with a partner in a Badminton doubles or with team mates in the soccer team, it requires a big investment of time to build a rapport with your child. It is frivolous to believe it is about telepathy - either you have it or you don't. It is clear to me there is a correlation between how much time I spent interacting with Albany and how she reacts towards me. I am fully affirmed if I had my taxing work schedule back in Singapore, my relationship with Albany would be significantly worse off.

It was said that men are naturally attracted women with physical attributes and character traits that suggest they would make good mating partners for them. Besides good sex and procreation, that includes maternal qualities such as the ability to cook, right down to the most subtle details such as a nice voice. Jen was a tomboy when I met her. It was unimaginable of her being a mother, especially a mother of my child. When we moved to Perth when she was 5 months pregnant, she couldn't even fry an egg properly and she did no housework in her household before we got married. But she turned out to be a terrific mother and wife I am very proud of. I am impressed by her willingness to learn by reading (she used to hate reading) and trying things out to improve herself. The lesson here is that we should not judge an egg by it's shell. That may be an egg of a dragon.

A young toddler doesn't know the rights and the wrongs. The parents define them. And we define them according to our life experiences, including our preferences and prejudices. It was interesting to observe the parents around me, including my own, instilled the "right values" into their children.

I used to remember others parents in my hometown warning us not to play with "Ma lai jü" and "Gek leng guai". I'll leave these untranslated for the good of everybody. Other than that, I had overheard parents telling their kids not to hang out with the bigger kids because they were rough, children from poor families because they were "dirty" and nonsensical stuffs like that, you get the drift. Meanwhile, children without preconceived ideas simply mix with one another in a world without strangers and have fun. I believe we should leave our kids alone to figure out what they believe in and leave them out our racial discrimination, religious shit and OCD traits. My own bad behaviors are my own makings and not inherited. I grew up to be grateful to my parents for that. No doubt it is a parent's responsibility to teach good moral values but we have to define them very carefully.

A baby is selfish. She does not care whether you are drop dead exhausted, frustrated or even tired of living. She does not know societal rules and does not understand the need to be tactful or politically correct. It is pointless to vent your frustrations on a baby on a totally different wavelength. Sometimes, parents forget a fact that without our babies, we will not die but without us our babies will. So a baby will do her utmost best to get everything she wants, often to an overbearing level but parents need not tear their hair out if we remind ourselves we are everything to them. For disciplinary purposes, parents would be selective in giving in to demands but we need not to be emotionally distraught over the baby's reactions.

I can never understand the impact of a child to my marriage prior of being a parent. I will go as far as saying a child can make or break a marriage. It is certainly an experience to bring a marriage to another level without a parallel substitute. You'll learn a great deal about your partner that you never knew but there is no guarantees you'll be opening a chest of rainbows, a Pandora box or the higher likelihood of both. In any case, a child brings forth everything you can see about your partner, like a mirror of truth. Another impact of this force has a tendency to conjure unprecedented motivation to make life changing decisions or kick habits, even addiction. 

I'll sum up my experience so far, "You learn for them, you learn with them, you learn from them." There is so much to learn if we put ourselves into the eyes of a child. It teaches us humility all over again, to put ourselves in their shoes on a daily basis. That routine may help us do the same for the people we interact with outside the family. Learning all over again also updates us of our expired knowledge or misconceptions of the world, a necessity at the same time to keep ourselves relevant to our kids as they grow up.

#9 - A child loves life

For the past weekends, I had been awaken by a giggling Albany delighted to have discovered her sleeping father. Before long, she would be dancing and hopping on my bed while Jen prepared breakfast outside. She would then begin to climb all over my body and sat down heavily with her fleshy butt to get me wincing in mock pain before breaking out in gleeful chuckles. Other times, she would be doing ground somersaults on her bed laughing. I wish I can wake up being happy like that on a Monday morning but thoughts of Albany in my mind when I drive to and fro work certainty put a smile on my face. Her love of life is contagious. 

What's so fun about a reddish crying lump of wriggling flesh? I felt genuinely happy for my siblings, relatives and friends when they celebrated their newborns in the past but I could never fully understand their joy until I became a parent myself. No parents to date have ever gave me a satisfactory answer why they chose to have a child. I will not be able to do so myself by trying to describe, or name some examples of joy because the truth is such that that isn't defined by a series of events or experiences. It is a journey of a soul that isn't easily transcribed, if it is possible at all. No two parenting experiences are the same to begin with but the majority of parents should agree, it has been a great adventure so far.

Yoda

Most Singaporeans moving to Australia would have this topic quite close to their heart, or at least have formed an opinion (or have had an opinion forced upon them).

Note: After starting to put together my draft, I realize this topic is much more complex than a blog post can ever do justice to – so, for the sake of parsimony and entertainment value, I will just provide you with my personal opinion, experiences and rants.

Yep, racism in Australia. The classic doomsday proclamation by those well-meaning aunties when you tell them you are going to work/live in Australia, “Wah, isn’t Australia very racist?”? This whole story of racist Anglo-Saxon Australians asking “Fucking Asians with their pigtails to go home” (this is a real quote my mother told me when I first told her I was applying for jobs in Australia) has been propagated by our dear yellow supremacist leader Mr. Lee, and enforced by half-illiterates like Ms. Pauline Hanson. Even my peers, young Singaporeans from their 20s to 30s, some educated overseas, some only having travelled as far as Chan Brothers would bring them, tell me the same thing.

I won’t paint a pretty picture of the grass being greener on the other side. There is racism here. Racism exists here in Australia. It exists everywhere. It exists in Malaysia, and it exists in Singapore. It exists when you said, “Little India all the smelly ABNN”, “Chinatown all the Ah Tiongs”, “Malays are lazy,” and (ok, last one before ISD catches me the next time I touch down in Changi Airport) “You Chinese Singaporeans are all a soft and pampered bunch”. And yes, of course it exists when that Ang Moh tells you to “go home on your fucking boat”.

You know what? We Singaporeans are as racist as them. Sometimes (most of the times), we are even more racist then them. Be honest - I cringe at the things I used to say to my friends in school, and I still cringe at the things my parents say when they visit me – much less the know-it-all Singaporean, who doesn’t command much empathy nor sympathy anywhere he goes. 

The things we say, are things that Ang Mohs here would never dare to say to your face – sometimes for fear of getting sued, but the uncomfortableness on their faces when an Asian says something equally racist about another Asian ethnicity suggests otherwise (like when I made a joke about our small Asian eyes).

The only reason we haven’t realized we are racist, is because Chinese Singaporeans are the majority race who only realize how being stereotyped and judged based on your ethnicity feels after you just become another Ah Tiong or Pinoy migrant in some Western country. Just ask that Malaysian Chinese colleague, or your Indian / Malay friends about racism.

But I won’t pull the wool over my own eyes – racism does exist no matter where we are. Just like sexism, just like elitism and many other –sms. How Peter Tan from RJC won’t talk to Tan Ah Kow from Bedok Secondary because he thinks he is an Ah Beng (or the other way round – Ah Kow won’t talk to Peter because he thinks Peter looks down on him) – we all judge people by appearances, and you are probably lying (or an SPG) if you told me you didn’t open up to the first Asian you saw when you were in Australia because you had more in common.

In my opinion, Singapore is going through that stage which Australia went through 10 years ago – being faced with growing immigration and competition, leading to xenophobic reactions from people like Pauline Hanson (Gilbert Goh, anyone)? I won’t begrudge them – these are usually well-meaning people who put up an automatic defensive reaction when faced with competition, but just don’t have the eloquence or critical thinking to come out with a well-balanced argument. 

Besides, riding on emotions often brings popularity much faster than a boring but well thought-out essay (trust me, my photos of me downing a tower of beer get many more likes on Facebook than my thoughts on why Singapore should have a minimum wage – unless I throw in a snide remark about a minister, of course).

Personally, as of 2014, I think Australia has come a long way in terms of racism – sure, when I first arrived in 2011, I had a fat angmoh woman shout at me from a café, “Go home you fucking Asian!”. I shouted back, “Get off your fucking chair if you can, you fat lump of shit”, to the amusement of my ABC friends. Well, tit-for-tat – she was really fat. What I’m trying to say is, it really depends how you react to it. If you are going to be Mr. Sensitive about every little comment, then you are going to find offence anywhere. My reply to my Angmoh friend insisting (in jest) that Chinese people eat sushi during Chinese New Year was to make a joke about bogans beating their wives – please, learn to know when people genuinely mean offence and when they don’t.

As a relatively new migrant, it is probably too early to tell you if the glass ceiling they tell me about in the corporate world exists. But I was watching the news yesterday, and one of the nominees for Australian of the Year, was this China-born guy who taught ballet who spoke with a strong China accent. Imagine the outcry in Singapore if they nominated an Ah Tiong to be the face of Singapore on National Day. And talking about a glass ceiling, the CEOs of Singapore companies are mostly ex-army personnel or people connected to the Familee – now you tell me, where is the glass ceiling?

Australia has a changing Asian face – not only were most of my classmates in uni Asian, but most of my colleagues (in a large Australian organization) are also Asian. And yes, this includes Directors, high level managers etc – things change and people don’t succeed by following the safe paths set by others.

To end this post, all I can say is that racism is a much more complex topic that encompasses many different personal views – but it definitely exists and is here to stay. The ways I have found to cope with it, are to keep an open mind, and not give a shit about what people think about me. Importantly, don’t let what others tell you shape your view – experience it yourself, try to see things from all points of view – and you will realize that the race that causes the most problems are the humans. 

Regards, Yoda

A beautiful mother of three from the Atlanta sent me a screenshot. It was a chart collated from the results of an international survey conducted by the Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development (OECD) I'll share it with you here.

Numerous discussions can be formed from the results but I will not be sharing my thoughts outside what isn't my business. So that will be narrowed down to Australia and Singapore, of course. Some background about the survey first. Happiness was ranked based on the percentage of students who agreed or disagreed with the statement “I feel happy at school.” Test scores were ranked based on the combined individual rankings of the students’ math, reading, and science scores.

Naturally I rubbed my eyes twice, with my fingers first then concentrated Dettol, when I saw the results: Australian and Singaporean kids are unhappy and sibei happy respectively in schools. So what went wrong here? Wait - I'll explain my reaction. All along I thought kids in Australia enjoy school way more than kids in Singapore do. After all, we all know the situation in the Singapore education system so let's not pretend there is nothing in something. Well, you will understand my point of view if you consider these people around my life:

I've got to calm down. I don't want to walk around the town with a murderous look like I used to in Singapore. Let's give the Singaporean community in Perth the benefit of doubt and re-look into the survey done by OECD. We can't possibly assume validity of a survey just because it was conducted by some AMDK (Ang Mo Dua Ki) I am pretty sure OECD didn't send a team to survey a group of Singaporean students specifically. That would take years to complete the number of countries included in the study. Perhaps the task was delegated to the school staff. First thing first, was the survey sample taken from a particular school or from a number of random schools? For sure, I'd expect a big variance in the results from school to school. What do expect a child to say if he is surrounded by assholes compared to the elite child of the R-school with a future paved out all the way to a seat in the Parliament House?

Ha. That reminded me of my National Service days. Bear with me as I reminisce old times. During my days was end of "Army Cooks" and the earliest inception of the Singapore Food Industries (SFI) to the cookhouses of the army. I heard standards have since improved by leaps and bounds. That is great for my Singaporean brothers because I can't help but recall how the service folks behind the counter would slam their ladles on my plate with a smirk despite my pleas of, "Yandao, mai zhup tolong tolooooong.... ... (chee bye)"

So I would be left with a PLATEFUL of tri-gravy consisting of loh zhup, kali zhup and transparent vegetable ooze swirling like a whirlpool on top of the badly prepared ingredients they called food. They reckoned since we chao recruits can camo our faces with crayons, that was their style to conceal their inferior products. Seperately, for someone who had 8 years of FnB experience in my pocket, they couldn't fool my eyes. I could trace the process whereby the steamed fish on Mondays would be converted to hard fried fish (shrunk in size because of the loss of moisture) on Wednesdays and curry fish (even smaller and harder) on Fridays. Now to the main point. Every now and then there would be a "survey day" for the SFI. Everyone who took a meal was supposed to take a plastic coin (probably recycled from their after-hours Mahjong games) and slot it into one of the options provided by rectangular steel box. The three options were "Good", "Satisfactory" and "Shitty" or "Spastic Food" or whatever it should be, my memory fails me.

On the first "Election Day", I slotted a coin into the last option like a boss. I was startled when a booming voice came, "Why you put that!" I looked up and saw a pair of bulging eyes starting at me. Seeing that he was a non-SAF staff, I replied, "Lousy what," and walked off, observing that pair of eyes still staring at me from the side of my eye. Make a smart guess how the guy behind me would have voted. Interestingly, on the second voting session a few good weeks (or months?) later, there was a Warrant (Messing?) Officer standing behind the steel poll box. I placed my coin in "Satisfactory." That was as far as I could push my conscience, in view of a smooth booking out process at the end of the week. So much for surveying. Why did they even bother? SFI would still win the tender even if they serve nuclear waste. It didn't help matters when I observed most of my platoon mates voting "Satisfactory". When I asked them what they thought of the food, nothing good came out of their mouths. If our soldiers did not even have the balls to voice out, how do you expect our school children to give a non-socially correct answer? If you think about it, these children are a reflection of ourselves. We were trained to be conformists right from the start. If you want to know the extent of our poison, just look at how Singaporeans sneered and jeered at the singing red haired girl who voiced her opinions. We are so deep into it that we do not even allow the others to be different just because we will not be.

You may want to accuse me for trying too hard to force my own beliefs here. I'll put things clear. There is absolutely no way children in Singapore are happier than the children in Australia in schools. There is no doubt about it at all, unless there is a significant difference in the definition of happiness on both sides. You have to observe both sides (not rely on hearsay) to understand why people like us (with the privilege to compare) will not give a moment of hesitation if we are asked the same questions. Or better, ask the young people who really mattered - the Singaporean kids who have been there, done that on both sides - to compare. I'll wager my last banana what their answers will be. Don't be tempted to take it up if you can't afford to lose yours.

No doubt, our MCYS would be happy to get hold of the OECD results. The media would gladly spread the love via their propaganda towers and my people will gulp it down. Yum, yum. We are too busy to stop for a second to think. When it comes to happiness, do we really need a survey? If we cannot even tell the difference between happiness and pain, it is no wonder our kids are jumping off buildings.

The English word “jerky” for dried meat is derived from the Quechua word charqui, and archaeological evidence shows that the Incans sliced and salted meat surplus to requirements, then left it to dry in the wind and sun. 

Source: The Economist

Definition of Bak Kwa

Australian Customs [link]

  Jerky

• An import permit is not required for jerky/biltong intended for human consumption only, provided the product is:
• Shelf stable
• Commercially prepared and packaged
• Imported in an amount up to 1 kilogram
• For the personal consumption of the person wishing to import it.
• Meat jerky/biltong (other than from avian meat) must be manufactured in one of the countries specified on the Department of Agriculture FMD Approved Country List. (Singapore is under FMD approved list)

No such thing as "sometimes can, sometimes cannot," or "depends on person." This is Australia, not some alibaba country where you slip money between the passport pages. Tell the officer their website confirmed this definition and that is the proper description of your item that he might never have heard of. There is no excuse for ignorance, for either sides.

"I would like to thank the Public Transport Council (PTC) for working on the fare adjustment for 2013. I have no doubt that it was challenging as no fare increase is ever welcomed by commuters.

The PTC has struck a good balance by keeping the fare increase a few notches below the average wage increase in 2013 while enhancing concessions for a significant segment of commuters like the students, especially the Polytechnic students, NSFs, and providing new products like the unlimited travel monthly passes for senior citizens and for other adults. Overall, I believe this will continue to keep public transport affordable for Singaporeans.

This is the first time the Government is funding two fare concession schemes, for low wage workers (LWWs) and persons with disabilities (PWDs) which, from the start, will see close to half a million Singaporeans benefitting. As I had shared earlier, the LWW concessionary fare, with 15% discount off adult fares, will bring their public transport fares to price levels comparable to what they were paying 10 to 15 years ago. PWDs will get even greater discounts, of between 25% and over 50%. And for the general population who need assistance to meet the cost of public transport, we will have available more than twice the number of vouchers that were disbursed in 2011, and make these available all year round.

As these are new schemes, we are working very closely with partner agencies like MSF, MOM and CPF Board to ensure that the application process be made as fuss-free and smooth as possible. I expect we will encounter some hiccups along the way given that we are setting up the infrastructure and processes from scratch, and close to half a million Singaporeans may apply, and hence half a million personalised concession cards will have to be printed and mailed out. I hope that applicants will understand and I assure you we will try our best to get the concession cards to you as quickly as possible. We will provide more details of eligibility, how and when to apply, etc, in the next few weeks. 

Once again, my deepest thanks to the PTC for undertaking this difficult assignment."

******

Everyone was ranting about the fare hike last night so loud that I could even hear it in Perth, so I visited Tuck Yew's Facebook page to read what he had to say. He thanked the PTC twice, including a deepest one like the deep throat Singaporeans will have to perform for the transport companies from the 6th of April. I couldn't help wondering about the aptitude of Tuck Yew if he considered that assignment a truly difficult one as he claimed it was. It probably explained why he came out to peculiar solutions [read about the hilarious P.L.A.C.E policy] to solve the problems in his constituency.

Minister Lui just reminded me that our public transport fare hikes were pegged to national average wage increment. That meant that so long you have a wage increment, there will be fare hikes. So, smile sweetly at the sulky guy in the morning train. It wouldn't be too difficult to spot who received a pay raise last year and who didn't. Intelligent Singaporeans would understand that under the umbrella of such a wide income disparity in Singapore, the wage increment of a high earner would be the total wage increment of 20 medium wage earners or 100 of low wage earners. By taking a national average wage to peg it with fare hikes, most of us will be paying more than we should in the first place, so I don't buy Tuck Yew's claim that the PTC has kept the most recent fare increase by "a few notches below average wage increase" in 2013. We shouldn't even be paying for the people with astronomical wage increments who don't take public transport in the first place, such as Minister Lui and party members, his banker and high ranking military friends. Fair hike? So how about taking the average wage increase of the demographic who actually takes public transport before we talk about notches, Minister? 

Wait a minute, why are we even pegging wage increment to fare hikes? Does that mean SMRT and SBSTransit will receive a higher revenue this year not because of how they perform but how YOU perform at work? I suppose Singaporeans who rant at transport companies all the while for poor services will have to realise they are not the customers, but the workers of SMRT and SBS. Do you still wonder why they don't give a shit about your complains? Smell the coffee and know your place my friends. Work hard and get your pay increments so these folks will get their fare hikes. Fair hike?

Polytechnic students are finally recognised as students and not working adults. It took them half a century to realise that and you wondered why they couldn't spot a limping terrorist. Good news for the poly kias. I am shedding tears of joys for my Alma mater as well as my chao NSFs brothers. Tuck Yew also announced that the Government is funding concession schemes for low wage workers and folks with disabilities, citing half a million of Singaporeans will benefit from that alone. Good on ya, Tuck Yew but wait. It is disturbing to know half a million of Singaporeans fall under the poverty line that the Government stubbornly refused to draw. From the last GE2011, we know there are only slightly more than 2 million Singaporeans today. Half a million of LWWs and PWDs is 25% of us. Is that an alarming percentage? I'll leave you to decide. These 25% would hardly have enough wage increment (in net value) to offset the fare increments and had been overpaying throughout the years before this funding scheme. Fair hike? The Government's late move to provide funding for this group has turned an achievement to a saving grace. Better late than never, I guess.