A Singaporean In Australia

Don't start calling the poor farmer and hear me out first.

Strawberry season is over by now and there is no strawberry to pick. I saved this advertisement and planned to share with anyone who cares but I had forgotten to write about it and there you go, Spring is almost over. If you are into fruit picking though, you should be heading towards Perth Hills or Swan Valley to sniff around vineyards to pick grapes or farms with nectarines or even apples. They will be the ones with the jobs in Summer.

The reason why I recalled I ever wanted to write about this was that Dodgymi visited me this morning. He have been doing pretty well since the last time he worked as a casual worker in my company. He started working as a farm worker, harvesting farm to farm wherever work was. Now he managed to assemble his own team and started sub-contracting harvesting work from farm owners directly. He came to ask me for advice on how he should handle his payroll, tax and staff matters. Perhaps I should not call him Dodgymi anymore. Not yet. Perhaps not yet, since he was still hiring the odd illegal worker now and then. Don't get me wrong. I don't stand on moral high ground. In fact, if anyone knows me well enough, they'll know I am as dodgy as Dodgymi when I have to. The world, by the way, is neither white nor black. Only the wise understands the power of being grey.

Anyway, Dodgymi has officially told me to send anyone who wants a job and is willing to work at a farm. He is willing to pay $15 an hour. Don't worry about the nickname I give him though. He'll pay you for your work on time. Or I'll get him for you.

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Dear Nix and Jen,

Hello again. I read your latest blog with interest. I certainly didn't know about the 50 points for pure existence. If only our local Woolies or Coles give us those points on flybuys, for simply 'being something' every time we shop with them.  

It has been an interesting fortnight for Singapore and Australia. In Singapore, it was a lot of hype and no change. In Australia, it was no hype and a sudden change. On the latter, I much prefer Turnbull over Abbott, for a wide variety of reasons.   How has your fortnight been? Mine was twisted. I won't say it was interesting. But extremely twisted and out of ordinary.

It all started out pretty well. I acquired another horse and named it Lao Fu Zi. Its previous owner didn't have time for him so I bought it over.  The intention was to train it enough so that it can serve as a therapy horse with the 'Riding for the Disabled'.  I strongly suspect that it had other plans. The following night, I was tagged on FB by several people on a status.  The status was,"Did anyone lose a horse? I happened to look on my CCTV and saw a horse trotting past our front yard.  I drove out to the property and looked. Shit, a fencing had come loose. Lao Fu Zi was missing. So I drove out to search.  I panicked in cold sweat because Lao Fu Zi was not tagged yet. And if the pound authority finds him, they would most likely shoot it.  The power of FB came swiftly into action. I was informed that there is a horse loitering outside Maccas.  Effing hell. So drove over, led it slowly into the trailer (not much difficulty, it must be afraid as well) and brought it back. 

Two days later, Geoff the donkey died. No, I didn't kill it, I don't think it was global warming as well. Whatever, it was dead and with my limited knowledge on animals, I know it is going to stink in a few days time.  According to the long list of laws on NSW, I am responsible to dispose the dead animal but also to adhere to 1001 regulations. Well so the first step is to move it out of the way from stock and vegetation.  All these guidelines are very good at telling you what to do, but they forgot in reality it is not that easy. Firstly, the animal was effing heavy.  Then while trying to drag it, its eyes fell out. And the effing crows came and fought to eat the fallen eyeballs.  Gruesome side of nature.  I am not ashamed to admit that I became revolting sick and the crows ate that too. By that time, a friend of mine came along with a forklift to lift it. One of its legs came apart. 

So step two was to ring the vet to determine cause of death. This is to make sure that it was not some infectious and reportable disease. So the vet came, opened up the donkey, it was a heart attack. I asked about disposal.  He said he could cremate Geoff at $1200. A candle will be lit in their chapel of remembrance. I am welcome to hold a memorial service for it, and then after the cremation, I would be handled back a box of its ashes with potpourri. There is already a problem with this. I don't have $1200. I don't think anyone would be interested to come for its memorial service. What am I supposed to do with a box of scented 'vacuum-cleaner' dust?  The vet suggested that I rang the tip.  The tip said they only do stock animals such as cattle, sheep, cows, not donkey.  By that time, I felt so screwed up and I still have two halves of a dead donkey sitting behind the shed.  I went home and looked up the whole bunch of rules on animal disposal.  Thanks to my other half who pointed out that we cannot bury it because our land leads onto a water supply and its carcass poisons it.  So the final decision was to burn it. At this point, I applauded at my genius mind. I watched Bear Gyrills so many times. It only takes patience and dry wood to start the fire.  Of course, being NSW, you cannot just burn things even if it is on your property. You got to apply for fire permits and put a notice in the papers and inform your neighbours and your local fire department (run by volunteers).  So the day after, I surrounded the donkey a nesting of wood chips, pour gasoline and lit it.  All day, it spat and crackled and I was pretty pleased with myself.  When the fire finally died, I inspected it.  The effing animal was still intact, less its fur and an intestine spilling out!  Mind you this was already day 4.  After I finished with all the profanities, I rang my friend who then brought in the bull dozer the next morning to dig a trench, while I applied for another fire permit and newspaper notice. My logic was if the small fire didn't work, then a bigger fire was needed. Just before I started, I rang the local fire volunteer, who told me that they were all at the pub and too drunk to operate the fire truck. But he was to ring around to see if any mates would help.  The undrunken mate turned up and was on stand by.  Prior to his arrival, I had seasoned the corpse with my combustion concoction of diesel, engine oil and meths, and even sprinkled a bit of gunpowder. When I lit it, I thought I've gone too far. It didn't just catch fire, it exploded. But after a while, it burnt on nicely, and the undrunken mate kept it under control and steady.  It smelt terrible.

And the final amount spent on all these? $120.

:-)

This post is incomplete without a picture of Geoff. Since I have watched my fair share of Happy Tree Friends, I am not exactly turned off by the description of your corpse disposal adventure. I am surprised though, that it took so much to burn a body. No wonder many murderers who tried disposing corpses ended up being caught. The difficulty of a proper disposal of a carcass is underestimated. Now that you mentioned it, I figured out half of the Neurotic Couple, S, is a volunteer at his local fire department. Perhaps he is working on getting to a position where he could sign his own approval to set fires. With the ability to burn corpse on his own terms, he is certainly not a man to be trifle with.

The tale of the runaway horse is something you will have to reflect on. You must have been treating the old master badly, it got pissed off and ran away. Riding for the disabled might have sound too boring as a job scope for this ambitious horse. Maybe you should make a gigantic wheel and get it to generate electricity for you by running on it. I just watched "The Matrix" over the weekend and it gave me bad ideas.

I like your $120 solution. Granted that $1200 could get you fancy value added services, I think it is important for migrants to understand that is a very cheap and a very expensive solution to every (well, most) problem(s) here. We cannot expect solutions to be served on a platter the way we are used to in Singapore. Often, we have to find out the options or even propose an idea. For example, trading in an unwanted used car with a car dealer may be a more efficient solution to dispose a car than to sell it privately when you need another car anyway. Just something a colleague recently did and got a great deal out of it (his car was actually faulty haha).

I still have some of your home made figs chutney. I am going to use a chunk of it on some grilled lamb tonight. Still feel bad about you having to send them over all the way from Temora.

Take care and hope to hear from you again,

asingaporeanson 

I returned the next day to visit Jen and baby with an excited Albany. She was delighted to see Jen more than her little brother. She could not come to terms when Jen could not be discharged on the previous day and wailed all the way home in the car. This time, she kept asking if mummy could go home. I told her it depended on the doctor's decision but was hoping fervently for a favourable one myself. It hadn't been easy coping with Albany's reactions to her mum's hospitalisations of late. What triggered her fears was that evening where Jen was suddenly told that she had to be hospitalised due to a high GI count in her blood. Albany was inconsolable and virtually had to be dragged back home. I was glad all these were over.

We had been treated well just like 3 years ago when Albany was born there. We had no complains with the one-bedder ward given to Jen, completed with bathing facilities and a change table. Nappies were also provided for a quick change by the daddies. All babies were left with the mothers since there were born. There was no nursery rooms like those we were accustomed to in Singapore. The hospital encouraged maternal bonding right from the go and advocated skin-to-skin contact as well as breastfeeding. We thought that was the right way too.

I gave baby a quick wash before wrapping him up, all ready to go home. As expected he cried non stop during the bath. He did not have a loud voice like Albany but he was way more animated with his limbs. I changed Albany into her pajamas in case she fell asleep in the car. It was 7pm and I waited calmly for the doctor's decision. Jen might be held back because there was complications during Jen's epidural that caused headaches after her delivery. Fortunately, she was given the go. We told the good news and got ready to leave.

Jen waddled like a penguin but we made it to the hospital lounge. This time we were not surprised that we did not have to pay a single cent for her entire delivery (and prior check ups as well) but we were equally grateful like the first time we had Albany. The hospital also send a midwife for home visits at least 3 times to ensure mother and baby was well. A child health nurse would also visit a week after the midwife to do another check on us. We were given adequate information and support throughout. There were also toll-free lines to call for medical advice. I knew people who did not think much about Australia's medical system. Personally, I felt very satisfied with the medical system here.

When we came to Australia, there were two of us. Now we have four of us. It has been an incredible journey beyond my imagination. No doubt, harder days are to come. I foresee struggles to cope. I can't figure out any scenarios where Jen can return to her PT job. Until we think of something logistically and financially logical, Jen may have to give up on her job. That will be a pity because I could see she have been enjoying her work.

Meanwhile I have a baby to muse over. He looks quite similar to his sister when she was an infant. It still makes me smile whenever I see this photo.

The Kia Carnival Singaporean seller texted me on the evening of the first of November, "Hi, are you still interested in buying the car?" I hurriedly replied, "Not now bro, my wife is in labour."

I tried to be as calm as I could. Deep inside though, I was nervous, really nervous. I felt like a first-time dad. Technically, this was the first time we were going through a labour. It was an entirely different situation with Albany, who was overdue and we had to make an appointment to induce her birth. Back then, we walked into the hospital, hand in hand, without knowing what to expect. At least my wife could walk painlessly then. We could even make lame jokes to entertain ourselves.

This one was from far from the case. I noticed something not quite right during my dinner. After dinner, there were times she looked paralysed in her spot, oblivious to anything around her. "Is that it?" I asked her. "I think so," she replied.

I dashed out of house and drove straight to my colleague's place to pass him the keys to the factory. "I'm not going to work tomorrow. Be good," I told him and drove off. I informed the Grand Council about it, to get any advice that might come my way when I had the time to read it. By the time I reached home, Jen couldn't even stand straight. She usually had a good threshold for pain. It was the first time I saw her like that. There was times when she looked like she had fallen into coma in the car. I held her hand as I drove along my trusted ROE highway. It was a Sunday night, so I was mercifully given a clear traffic along Kwinana freeway all the way to the city. Before long, my twist and turns took us through Subiaco to King Edward Hospital.

Jen asked me to park the car nearby instead of dropping her at the entrance. "Can you walk?" She said she could but she might have to stop along the way. That happened exactly. We stopped about 3 times before making into the hospital. It was then I understood how the cycles of labour pains. We checked into the ward and was told that she could opt for an epidural when her cervical dilatation reaches 4 cm. It wasn't too long before the pains caused Jen to get into a state I couldn't recognise. As time went by, she did not want to talk anymore. As advised, we took a walk around the area in hope to quicken her dilatation. Each time the intense pain arrived she would lean onto me. Eventually, we returned to her bed because the pain was getting unbearable and started screaming for help. 

"I didn't remember going through that much pain for Albany?" Jen wailed.

She was right. Jen had an epidural before they burst her water bag to induce labour back then. That didn't work out, put Albany into distress and had to be delivered through a Cesarean-section procedure. I didn't know why there was a need for a 4cm dilatation this time round before epidural could be applied. Was that the normal procedure when the mother opted for a natural birth? Too late to figure out such things. Jen was eventually given the epidural but only after some drama and an hour later. It made a world of difference and settled her down. I too, felt a weight off the shoulders temporarily.

I was given a mattress and was advised to get some sleep. "You will need it," said the midwife. So I did. 8 hours had already passed since Jen felt her first pains at home. 

I woke up every hour or so when medical staff came into the room to check Jen's progress. It wasn't going well at all. She was stuck at a 6cm dilatation for many hours. The doctor commented that a C-sect was very much in their plans if that trend carried on for another hour. Then there was progress, slow but gradual. By 7am, Jen was congratulated by chirpy staff that she had achieved 10cm and could go through a natural birth. "Well done!" they chorused.

The baby was starting to show abnormalities. I hated that situation. Tried as I could but I couldn't help but worry excessively. They had to start the delivery about 30 minutes early to reduce the risk of distress. The delivery did not go well at all. Jen squeezed every ounce of strength in her but progress was very discouraging. Of course, I had to keep telling her every push was progressive to keep her going but in fact, she was going two steps forward and two steps back. It was inevitable she could run out of steam before long and the baby was moving towards the distress danger zone. It was one of those situation where I felt useless. I wanted to help but I couldn't do much to improve the situation. All I could do was to hold her legs to alleviate sores, soothe her and even use my hands to spread the exit. By then, Jen had already pushed for 1.5 hours and was clearly exhausted.

A doctor was called it to review the situation and make the best decision for us. It was 8.30 am, 15.5 hours had passed. I didn't know it was that hard. The doctor advised an assisted delivery by snipping open part of it and help Jen pull the baby by fixing a vacuum on baby's head. Before long, Jen was bleeding like a waterfall and was advised to give the best push she could because the vacuum could not even be applied without a minimum amount of surface area. The readings were not going well at all for baby. It did look very uncomfortable to have your head stuck like that. The vacuum was finally fixed and she started pulling at the same time Jen was pushing for her life. Baby's head finally cleared the passage. His head looked elongated by the pull but I was told his skull would get back to shape within 1-2 days. I gasped in relief but it wasn't over. The midwife pulled his head but didn't seem to be able to get him out. For a moment I was worried she would detach the baby's head from his body and urged Jen to expend whatever left in her in a final push. 

Then baby was finally out. 

I felt a sore nose and tears welled up my eyes. It was 9.05am in the morning. Jen closed her eyes and fell into a brief slumber while the doctor started stitching her wounds, which had created a small blood pool by then. Baby boy began to wail while being cleaned and checked. 16 hours. It wasn't easy at all. He weighed 3.56 kg, only 300 grams lighter than his sister at birth at 3.84kg but I thought he looked much thinner than Albany was. Later, I was told that he was quite "long" for a baby.

I was given the honour to cut his cord. By then Jen had recovered slightly to be able to open her eyes and embrace baby in her arms.

This is going to sound like a broken record. However, I believe there are a few genres of music that are inspired by the a broken record and those are surprisingly popular with the masses. So I cannot say for sure every person who reads this will feel junk and wasted a 1 minute of their time. I never grow tired of talking about this topic because of 2 reasons. 1) These are facts, not opinions. 2) No Singapore fan-boys can ever dispute Perth's superiority over Singapore in this aspect.

The topic is air.

The post can technically ends here because it is as clear as the sky (here) that air quality in Perth is better than in Singapore. For the benefit of our nerdy friends here, here are some figures to support this claim.

These figures do not reflect the annual haze party in Singapore. Never mind about the figures. What I will be concerned about as a Singaporean is the party organisers seem to increase the duration of their parties every year. You know, I go speechless whenever I hear or read people going about bush fires in Australia as an equivalence to the haze situation in Singapore. I don't know who made the rule that it is rude to call stupid people stupid. That made me go speechless because I didn't want to be rude. Stupid people are allowed to go scot-free yet again.

Just 2 days ago, I received this picture (left) from Duchess M, who was "screaming" in whatsapp about the bush fire that occurred in her suburb. I looked out of my window, saw a crow flying past in the clear blue sky and replied her, "There is a bush fire?"

"Yes and embers landed on houses and burnt them down. Houses with swimming pools are not spared!"

I think she needs a lesson in fire defence but my point here is that I live about 40 minutes drive from her and I don't even know there is a bush fire over there because it was still clear blue over here. Lest anyone would like to bring up the great bush fire tragedy on Black Saturday that wiped out suburbs in Victoria, note that it was termed a disaster for a reason. The rarity of that magnitude of the damage. The Indonesian haze, in contrast, happens so consistently every year that no one is willing to call it a disaster which in fact, it is, to the Indonesians who do not benefit from the irresponsible burning at least. However, I do not believe any Singaporean do not feel the slightest discomfort during the haze period. In fact, many people I know fall sick due to the bad air quality. If haze blanket parties are going to last at least 1 month each year, residents of the region will breathe crap for 10% of their lives. If that sounds acceptable to you, why don't you try drinking a glass of longkang water for every 9 glass of clean water you take?

Since we are at the topic of water, it is appropriate to give you a different perspective of air. Many of us know the importance of drinking good water. In fact, many Singaporean friends I know are willing to pay a premium for good quality drinking water. You know, Diamond Water and those shit. My friends reckon that since we are drinking a recommended 2L of water a day, it is wise to ensure we drink the best we can to ensure good health. If everyone can agree with that, I wonder why the intake of quality air has always been neglected. According to the Internet, a human being takes in 11,000L of air per day, of which your lungs will filter, absorb oxygen, exhale and repeat. That is 5500 times your water intake. If bad quality water is a path to bad health, have you been ignoring what you have been breathing? 

The problem is that unlike water, we have little control of the air quality we breathe. Air purifying products, at best, produce mediocre results and doesn't work outdoors. Due to the insane amount of air we breathe a day, it isn't cost effective to import "good air" from the French Alps. Since we can't do a thing to change the situation, we dismiss its importance, carry on with life and talk about high taxes in Australia. 

Granted that the air quality in Singapore during the non-haze months is pretty good, as compared to some Asian cities, but it doesn't make me feel good breathing them. I'll use an experiment demonstrated by my lecturer in Fluid Mechanics to illustrate my point. He showed our class 2 jars of water. On his left was a clear fluid, as pure as how clean water should look. On his right was jar of murky water with stuff floating around when stirred. He called out to the class for an answer, "Which jar holds the more impure water?" Of course, the class chose the wrong answer. That was the point of it, right? With his apparatus, he was able to prove to the class that the jar of clear "water" contains so much impurities that it will land one in the hospital within minutes if we drink it. The murky glass will not even give us a run to the toilet. However, will anyone of us drink that "clean" murky water? None of us wanted to try.

If I enjoy breathing hot air, I'd have worked as a baker. If you are skeptical about the effects of breathing cold, clean air, come over during Autumn or Winter and see for yourself how much it refreshes you. 

Mind, body and soul.

I had to apologise to Steph profusely because I wasted his precious evening time. His reply was socially acceptable, so that I would feel better. Thus, I had the cheek to ask if he was willing to drive me to Melville for the viewing that I cancelled earlier to check out the CRV. The owner said, "Yeah, come on here. I will be home all evening." Steph was willing and so we were going.

It was almost dark by the time we reached Melville. It was the more atas Northern side of Melville. The owner's house was a double-storey house on the top of the hill and had another similar house down the road, as we found out when Steph was chatting with him as I inspected the car. He was an Aussie, perhaps of Italian descent. (gut feel) It was getting dark and I had no time for chats. The test drive went well. Things that were supposed to work, worked. The condition was the car was good and its mileage was considered very low for its age at 110,000 km. It was a 1.3L manual with 2 sets of keys with central locking functions. The body had minor scratches but nothing too serious that I couldn't fix with a bit of polish and some elbow grease. The tyres were worn and needed replacement but overall, a car in immaculate condition. No dents or hail damage for once. Finally someone who advertised accurately, for fuck's sake.

The seller's asking price was too accurate for my liking though. He insisted on his asking price and told me the imperfections of the car were all factored in the price. To be fair, he wasn't wrong. He took the trouble to show me how well the car was maintained by showing me the regular servicing done at a Honda dealer and the receipt of a rust-proof addition he made on the car. The car was also tinted and should be useful during the potential worst Summer ever since I came here. He refused my offer of $3,700. So I told him I had to walk away from the deal because that was all the cash I had. He said, "Ok, I guess I had to wait for one more week and see if I can get better offers."

"Can you do a $3,900 then?"

David, the seller, said, "Hmm... I can do that, since that is the middle of our asking prices."

Deal. We shook hands. David insisted on taking a small deposit from me so that he could be sure I was a "serious buyer." I handed him $100 reluctantly and David promised to deliver the car to me the following evening and I would pay up the rest of the money. I wasn't very keen on a deposit because of the no-show by the Pom the previous week after he shook my hand for a done deal in similar fashion. However, on our way back, Steph told me if he backed out, we could return to smash his expensive house. That was the kind of friend I needed. I promised him lunch on my bill the next day.

It was an anxious wait the next evening. However, David turned up and the deal was completed without any complications. I was still doubtful of my choice and regretted that I failed to land myself a bargain CRV. However, all of a sudden, I was assured by Josephine of Swan and Tucky of Singapore that it was a great buy and they were fans of the car. I guess I would have to grow to like the car. 

The teacher requested for my "hitch hike" tale, which started from the breaking down of my car to hitching a ride from Adam and a boring series of my car hunting accounts. With this post, it will end the "hitchhike" topic. 

I texted Stephen at around 3.30 pm. "Hey bro, free to drive me somewhere?"

Steph replied after a hiatus, "Sure, where do you want to go?"

Before I could reply, I received a call from him. He told me he was on the way from his office and would be arriving in 10 minutes. So I grabbed my money, all $3,700 of it and waited patiently outside. On a side note, I felt morally obliged to write this post, since there is a remote chance Steph's wife may be reading this. This will be the official documentation to explain why her husband went home late that night.

I was after a 2003 Honda CRV, 110,000km, asking for $4,000. The owner was in a hurry to sell the car. I was confident I would be able to knock down the price for a quick sale. In fact, I cancelled a viewing for another Honda Jazz to go for that instead at the last minute. I had a feeling my car search would finally end that evening. 

Steph turned up and started asking me what was the big deal. I explained to him that I got the "inspiration" and thought I could drive someone's car back that evening. He said, "Ok." and drove me deep into the city. The traffic wasn't good at all once we reach the city area. Welcome to the real Perth, asingaporeanson. You have been living in delusion.

We were greeted by a beautiful young PRC teen in a nice dress. The seller though, was her grouchy looking mum. Another side note for young men who might be reading this. When you choose a wife, always look at her mum and decide if you are able to live with someone that behaves and look like that in 3 decades. Else, quit while you can. Or you could take a big risk by betting your wife wouldn't turn out like your MIL. The odds are seriously against you and you will be a brave man to risk it indeed. I did.*

The CRV drove well, just like the way I like my car! Alas, before my test drive, I had already decided not to buy it. I spotted oil leaks around the head gasket area. I felt really disappointed because a CRV with a low mileage wasn't easy to come by at that price. The seller was grouchy as I handed her keys back. She was confident she would sell the car in double quick time because it was such a "good price." 

I seriously doubt so.

*There are some scares once in a while but overall so far so good.

Not once I had such a hard time finding a good car at affordable prices in the used car market here. It was just one of those days I guess, to experience the Taxi Syndrome - plenty when you don't need them but none when you do. I ended up viewing a 2005 Honda Jazz well above my budget. It wasn't viewing for the sake of it. I figured that since I had a bit of time in the day, I might as well learn something from test drives. Besides, it was a rare opportunity for me to drive around Perth to see how the place looked like during office hours. I realised that I have never actually done it before since I came. The drives were pleasant on quiet Perth streets just like the way it attracted me some 8 years ago, albeit an obvious increase of road traffic today.

This time the seller lived just 10 minutes away from me. Her car was another Honda Jazz, 2005, 130,000km, 1.5L VTI-S, asking for $4,800. I knew I wouldn't buy the car at that price but it didn't hurt to take a look. After all, I had a surprisingly huge discount on the asking price for Stargazer the other time. Never try, never know.

The owner was a young Asian lady in her early 20s, likely to be either a Singaporean or Malaysian. She was wearing, quite little but apt for an unusually hot Spring day. Little did I know I would be schooled by that young lady on the different models of Honda Jazz. In fact, she could tell me the different in specs of a 2003 and 2004 model, including different features in the dash board! She would have made a rather good Honda Jazz saleswoman. That also meant that I had no chance of getting a bargain for her car as she insisted that it was a bargain at that price, which wasn't far from the truth, going by the condition of her car. Besides she already had an offer of $4,600.

I took it for a test drive. It drove really well. Both the interior and exterior of the car were well taken care of. The air conditioner was not working though. Soon, the car got as hot as its owner. It wasn't quite a bargain after all. At least, I knew what a good Jazz felt like. It would help me identify the lemons should I decide to view anymore of these pricey, unaffordable things.

The used car market here ran out of RAV4s and CRVs within my budget. That did not mean there weren't cheap cars around. In fact, there were lots of sedans littered all over Perth under $2,000. I would rather go to work on a skate board than buy one of those. I began to get restless and started looking for cars that my friends drive. 

No, there wasn't any Mitsubishi Nimbus going around at all. I decided Kia Carnival of the age I could afford were generally in crappy condition for some reason. I couldn't afford a Odyssey. By that time, Jen told me it wasn't necessary to get a 7-seater. So my options were wide open again. Obviously, I couldn't even get a sniff at one of those Volkswagen Golfs 2 of my friends were driving. The Suzuki Swift that Joanna was driving was greatly reduced in price since I came here but there wasn't many bargains then. How about the Honda Jazz? I knew someone who couldn't stop raving about her Honda Jazz. Hey but that was the same person who raved about her Kia Carnival. It appeared that raving owners might not necessarily be a good indicator of a good car.

However, there was one of those Honda Jazz listed that caught the eye. 2005, Automatic, 180,000km asking for $3,500 negotiable. That was above my budget but I thought I would just test drive to see what was the hype about the car anyway.

I had to make a really long drive up north to Stirling. Since I had plans to "drop by" Wangara much further north later, I reckoned it wouldn't hurt to view that Jazz. The owner was a dainty Asian lady in her late 20s. There was hail damage on the body (the car, not hers) and her car looked a lot worse than what she posted in the advertisement. "How much are you selling this for?" I asked.

"$3,500."

"Pity about the hail damage," I commented.

"I am willing to reduce it to $3,000, actually," said the lady.

No major problems found on the inspection so I told her, "Let me do a test drive."

It drove well and before long I was back at her house. "Are you from the Philippines? 

"Ah, yes!"

"Are you a nurse?"

"Wow, how do you know?"

"I have a lot of practice in stereotyping people such that I actually became really accurate," I told her.

"Haha. So where are you from?"

"Singapore."

"Ah......"

"Yes," I nodded, proud of my racist origins. "I noticed your ad said your car was a 1.3L but I'm quite sure it is a 1.5L..."

The nurse looked flustered and clearly didn't know much about her car but invited me into her house to take a look at her vehicle documents. I took the opportunity to ask if I could use her toilet for a wee. She had the documents laid on the table when I was done, "You need not remove your shoes actually."

"It's a habit," I thanked her for the toilet. She was alone at home and would have gotten into trouble if I was a crook. Fortunately, I wasn't a crook that day. I was dead sure if that scenario had happened to me in Singapore, I would have to run to the nearest MRT or shopping centre to do the deed. I decided to return her trust in me by giving her some tips how to update her advertisement so that she would have a higher chance to sell the car by the following Tuesday.

She would be moving to NSW after securing a job over there. (She just graduated from her 1-year Nursing degree) I congratulated her and wish her all the best in her new job and life, as well as selling her car.

I was trying to look for your name to address this email properly, but I can't seem to locate it. Pardon me if your name is mentioned, but I'd not caught it!

I've been reading your blog for a few months but not so much in details until yesterday. My sister and I are planning to work/study in Australia and it would really help to hear experiences and advice from people who have been there done that.

First off, let me introduce myself. I'm Grace and a Singaporean. I've graduated from Temasek Polytechnic with a diploma in internet and multimedia development. What I'm doing now has no reference to what I've studied. I've applied to ANU and couple of other universities to do my degree in Development Studies in 2017 after spending about 5 years working in an NGO, and I think it's time to finally do my degree! I've applied in July and still waiting for the schools to get back to me. 

My sister is a Malaysian and she holds a diploma in nursing from Universiti Sans Malaysia (USM). She have been working as a maternity nurse in Malaysia for 1 year and in Singapore for close to 2 years currently. So, just in case you're curious why we are off different nationalities, I have a link about us here: http://news.asiaone.com/News/Latest+News/Singapore/Story/A1Story20130218-402769.html

After reading different blogs, we feel that we are not quite ready for migration to Australia as PR just as yet, we have not even visited Australia for vacation before! But don't worry, we are making plans to visit Australia in May 2016. The grant plan for us is while I study in Australia, my sister would work as a nurse to ease my financial constraint of my full-time studies and at the same time she would be able to gain more nursing experience. We are not too sure if this plan is a fairytale or it could be done. 

We did some research, but we are unsure if my sister is needed to secure an employment with a hospital or she would need to apply with the Australian Nursing Board first? Because the way Singapore handled foreign nurses is pretty clear cut and it's mentioned that all nurses must have employment with a Singapore hospital before they could even apply with the Singapore Nursing Board. From the different websites I've read, it seems like it can be done both ways? We are waiting for my universities applications to come back before she can decide where to work at.

My sister might not be the most experience nurses around given her time in the career, she worries that her diploma standing and years of working experience would lower her chances of getting employed in Australia. But we've heard stories from friends that how newly graduated nurses from Singapore could find jobs in Australia, is that a myth?

As off now, we would want to apply for Australian PR, but just not ready yet. Our master plan is actually to be a globe trotter and move around until we want to settle down some where on earth. AIMS got back to my sister and said that with her diploma now, she would only be able to migrate to Canada. For future plans, my sister would like to do her degree too, in what field, it would be up to her.

I guess being brought up in Singapore, I have a lot concerns and wants the plan to be swee swee, but I know the world is not that.

Would love to hear from you!  

Hi Grace,

First of all, I would like to congratulate you for reuniting with your sister. It was a beautiful story to me not just because both of you found the opportunity for an unlikely reunion but your commitment to get each other involved in your future plans instead of continuing on separate ways as you have always been.

My first advice is not to limit yourselves to Australia. Make the world your playground and embrace the possibilities out there. Australia is not the only place you can go, though it is a really fine country (and not that fine) worth your consideration. Since a migration agent is confident that your sister can migrate to Canada without further tweaks to her working experience or academic qualifications, it deserves a serious look as well. You are lucky that your sister is in the nursing field. She will be the one who will go places. If you are able to tag along on her merit, return the favour one day.

If you are doing a degree in future, choose your field wisely. You will not have many chances to correct a wrong again. One of the worst advice we can get out there is to follow your passion. It is very situational hence can be absolutely bullshit if my passion is to catching fighting spiders to find the ultimate king. What if I tell you that you can find success by not following your passion at all? I found out about this the hard way.

If your sister is not confident about employment, get her to do a nursing degree in Australia. With her previous credentials, she should only require to do 1 year (2 year max) study to complete her degree. With a local degree and prior work experience, it will increase her chances of getting employed in Australia. I wouldn't bet on Singapore graduate nurses finding jobs in Australia. However, Singapore nurses with working experience will have a decent chance in landing a job here. In fact, Australia graduate nurses are losing a lot of jobs to migrant nurses due to their lack of working experience as hospitals here are still having trouble to fill some of their vacancies that require working experience that local graduate nurses cannot fulfill. [link] Since your sister has working experience as a midwife, it will be advantageous in her job hunt.

If you want to country hop and see the world, take up nursing like your sister. You will be well sought after. It is a respectable profession everywhere in the world except in Singapore.

Right after I was finished with German kids, I called the seller of another Kia Carnival. I asked a few questions about the car and the seller suddenly popped a question, "Are you Singaporean?"

"Ya," came my reply.

"Oh! I am Singaporean too!" replied the seller, rather excitedly.

"When can I view your car?"

"I'll call you back."

"Ok."

We eventually meet at ..... where else but Canningvale, the suburb where I will never live in or near to. I am living dangerously close to Canningvale at the moment but it doesn't feel that bad with a huge highway separating the suburbs, giving me a comfort zone buffer.

The was leaking around the engine head like Goldilocks once had. So the deal was off even before I did a test drive but I did it all the same, so that I could find out how good or bad a Kia Carnival might drive. When I rev harder at Gear 3, it felt "shaky". I did not know if it was my clutch control or something about the car but that was my last draw. I could not buy that car.

Singapore chap, (I can't remember his name by now) was new to Perth, having migrated here close to a year then. He had 3 cars and was looking to dispose 1 of them. "I have a Honda Jazz that I am willing to sell too, if you want to take a look," he quipped.

"How much?"

"$4,900."

"Maybe not," I replied.

"Food is bad in Perth ah? I miss Singapore food so much."

"I don't know. I cook and have my meals at home."

After the test drive, I had 10 minute chat with Singaporean chap by the side of the road. He was curious about what brought me to Perth and asked me how I felt about the usual issues Singaporeans are concerned about. When I told him I did not miss "home", he was visibly surprised and started prompting me questions such as, "Don't you feel strange with all ang mos around, no one that looks like us," or "There is a limit we can climb in work because the higher positions are reserved for locals," etc, to find out why his mental realities did not seem to affect me.

"So, you want to know why I don't miss Singapore at all?"

"Yeah. I'm very curious."

"Look," I circled my finger and had him looking around the environment around us. "What do you think we happen if we stop by the side of the road chatting like what we are doing now?" He pondered for a while as I interrupted his thoughts, "Motorists will stare at us and if the police is driving pass, we will be questioned or shooed away in no time."

"Look again over there," I pointed at a fine green belt in front of a row of houses nearby. "Tell me where can we find a shady spot of this quality where not a single human being in sight where I could have a picnic with you now or even sleep for an hour without being disturbed in Singapore?"

I continued before he could speak, "Tell me at what time of the year will we have this kind of breeze cooling us as we speak, in Singapore?" It was one of those fantastic breezy afternoons in mid Spring where it was cooling at mid 20 degrees Celsius with a clear blue sky. Singapore was facing one of the worst haze attacks from Indonesia in recent history as I made my point. "I would be hot, sweaty, feeling sick and frustrated if we are talking business the same way in Singapore by now. Won't you?"

"Well...." Singaporean chap went, "I have to agree with you but I kinda miss the vibrancy and vibe of the place. It felt more 热闹."

“又热又吵闹 for me,” I laughed as I shook his hands and bade him goodbye.  

We came back from the hospital on 3 November. Both kids were secured in their car seats. One facing the front, one facing the back. I couldn't help but notice there was no space left. There was perhaps enough space for one slim adult in the middle. Should my parents or friends visit again, we would never be able to go out together in a single car.

While Duchess M did not rave about her spare Kia Carnival, she did give good reviews about it. I hopped on to the middle tier seats once when it was parked in her garage. What attracted me was, of course, the sliding doors that opened like a van. I like this kind of things. It was also spacious enough even at the rear tier. 7 adults should find a ride in that car rather comfortable. The only thing I was skeptical about was the reliability of the car.

I decided to view a few Carnivals anyway. One brought me all the way to an inn in the city. Jen dropped me at the inn and went to the nearby park with Albany. That should be a couple of days before she went into labour. The seller appeared shortly after I informed that of my arrival. They were a pair of young German chaps, who looked almost like teenagers to me. What were they doing with a car, did they steal it or what?

It was a 2005 Kia Carnival, asking $3,000 for it. Mileage was low for its age. No visible damage or leaks. The Germans introduced themselves and told me where they came from when I asked.

"Ah.......... Jürgen Klopp people," I said.

"Ah, yes yes! Klopp! Liverpool. Yeah," said German kid 1.

German kid 2 decided to wait at the car park when I took the car for a test drive. German kid 1 came along with me. He told me they were backpacking and just arrived a few days ago. They took over the car but decided to swap it for a 4x4 so that they could go bush bashing. He told me they brought only a few grand with them and might work in the countryside to fund the rest of their trip if necessary. I asked German kid 1 if it was a common thing for kids from Germany who barely turned 20 to leave their country, be it on long term work or an eye opening backpacking trip far away from home. He told me it was a common practice and even German girls do the same thing.

Nice.

Though I have not visited Germany before, I have a good impression of the country and its people. In fact, if there is an opportunity to send my son to Germany for university in future, I will do that. But for the car deal, it was no deal the moment I heard they were back packers. The other buyers may do that but let it not be me. I did not have the heart to negotiate and try ripping off young teenagers leaving their country for the first time.

It was a nice drive. Back at the car park, I pointed to the back seats and asked German kid 2, "Where are the seats?" In their places was a rather well constructed bed, just enough for two people to sleep on.

"I don't know, the bed was there when we bought this. But we can remove it for you if you don't want it."

"Hmm.... okay but do you have the original seats?"

"No, but maybe you can find them on Gumtree?"

I told them I would think about it. Before I left, my parting question was, "So Jürgen Klopp any good?"

"He is very good and he will take Liverpool FC to glory," promised the German kids.

Great to have something to hope for, even if it was yet another failed car deal.

One of my first target of getting a replacement car was the RAV4. I missed it. If not for the bellend who showed no remorse for crashing into Stargazer, I am sure we will still be driving it today. It was such a nice car - while it lasted. Reliable, nippy, sunroof and all. The problem with old RAV4s within my budget was that they do not come by. In fact, they do not usually get onto the used car market because good ones are kept within the family, many passed on to children.

So imagine my surprise when someone was selling one at a good price. He was asking for $2,500 and was willing to negotiate. I thought that was a great deal. The owner lived in Harvey. That was about 2 hours drive from me. However, in the advertisement, he said he was willing to travel to Perth for buyers who were "serious". So I called him and checked it out. 

It was a pom sounding guy who explained he was leaving Perth by the following Saturday. If he could strike a deal with any buyer of his car, he would have to hold his car until that Saturday. He would then drop the car and leave for the airport. No money would be paid until the car arrive. I thought that was a fair deal. In fact, I had nothing to lose except for the risk of empty elation. So I decided to meet the buyer and test his car before I head to the hospital to visit Jen, who just gave birth to our baby boy on 2 Nov. 

He drove to my place all the way from Harvey alright. His name was David and he was from the UK. The car was in good shape. The test drive was fine, perhaps it drove even better than Star Gazer did if my memory served me well. So I told David I would buy it for $2,300. He wanted $2,350. Deal. We shook hands and I told him I would be expecting him with my money on Saturday.

Though the baby kept excited (and busy) for the week, I was excited to get to drive a RAV4 again. Alas, the bloody pom did not honour the deal and did not turn up, without even informing me that the deal was off. I lost a full week of paternity leave where I could have spend the time on searching for the next deal.  If he had told me he found another buyer, I might have found my car before that Saturday. It left me with little time to find the replacement. With little time, it often lead to desperate buys.

Spit.

After a year of abuse, he finally broke down last month. So there goes my $1,250. Frankly, I could have made it last longer. I reckon if I bothered to service the car, it will last easily 2-3 years. For some reason, I couldn't be bothered and hence I had to bear the consequences.

Perhaps breaking down on a highway has always been a weird fantasy of mine. By the time it was fulfilled, I showed to remorse nor frustration. I simply tapped the hazard light, slowed down to the road shoulder, restarted the car to listen to the last chokes of the Lucky Brian. Then I dismounted nonchalantly, disengaged two of my baby seats from the back, flipped them over my shoulders with part of their seat belts and began my walk back home. I reckoned I would make it back home before sunset.

I barely walked a minute away from my stranded car before a car slowed down besides me. The driver wind down the window and called out, "Hey mate, where do you live?"

"Oh hi mate. I live in (dodgy suburb)," was my reply.

"Hey I live in (suburb next to mine), I could give you a lift! Hop on!"

I thanked him and I did.

His name was Adam, a born and bred Aussie in his early 30s. My first question for Adam was how often did he help strangers on the road. He told me he lost count. I believed him. You know, that wasn't the first time I was rendered help by strangers when I had trouble on road. It brought me back to the incident when I was in Perth in 2007 for a visit. Back then Jen was just special friend. She was in Perth for her Masters and I missed her and made the visit. She thought I would like to see the Pinnacles so we made a road trip up north.

On the way, she stopped by the road to answer a phone call. Silly woman. She didn't realise she had driven fully into the gravel in a vehicle that wasn't a 4x4 built. We ended up stranded in a country road hundreds of kilometres away from the next town with hardly a single car passing in 10 minutes. A bloke in a ute eventually did. His Corgi hopped out from a bucket at the back of his ute and greeted us cheerily. The Aussie, also in his early 30s, tied a rope to our car, dragged us out of the gravel, said "No worries" and sped off. That incident left a deep impression on me about the people in this country.

2 years later, I was driving along Senoko Drive at 9pm on the way home after work. It was one of those dark streets (by Singapore's standard) that you wouldn't want to hang around for more than a minute if you could help it. I saw a young woman standing by the road, using a phone. As I moved closer, I saw that she was frustrated and assumed she might have difficulties getting a cab to get her out of trouble. I did the same thing as Adam and asked the lady if she needed a lift to the nearest MRT station. I knew she wouldn't have accepted my help because it was Singapore and a Singaporean we are talking about. As expected, she decided that it was a bigger risk hopping on my vehicle than staying on that deserted road with high probability of an odd passing foreign worker. I carried on my journey home, knowing that I had addressed my conscience by giving her an option.

I asked myself on many occasions if there will be any Singaporean stranger stopping his car to give me a lift if my car broke down on the AYE. My answer is the same as yours, if we are honest. The bigger question is, "Will I accept the help if someone really did that?" With the mentality I used to have, I am sure my first answer will be, "No." There is something about us that makes us very reluctant to offer and receive help. I have been off. A fact is a fact. So much for being part of One People, living among my non-racist countrymen as a first class citizen.

A forsaken place, the last anyone would consider in the land down under.

But this is my red pill… a day in my wonderland

5.59pm: Time for a hit at the tennis courts

7.19pm: Dinner with Chiobu Kopi Maid

Damage for the day 1 (Money that left my wallet): $20


6.50am: Breakfast. Oats

7.38am: Time to head to work.

7.55am: Ready for work. (17mins it took and its not even school holidays yet)

4.40pm: Home

5.23pm: Time to take the trusty bike out for a spin

Damage for the day: $2.40 ($1.80 for 4 prawns, $0.60 2min noodles)