A Singaporean In Australia

I used to say migration is no big deal. Thousands of Singaporeans have migrated. I'm the only one making a mountain out of a molehill, writing a blog and what not. I can't help it, migration is big deal for me.

Billions of people had children before me. Everyone knows someone who is a parent. What's there to rant about child birth of parenthood? Nothing and everything. It's not the big deal, it is THE DEAL.

There are some emotions that one can never understand unless one experiences it. We can watch the bungee jumper and imagine the feeling in his shoes. Imagine very very hard. Reading books about swimming, watching videos of swimmers, perfecting swimming strokes on the sofa. When we finally step out and try it, it'll be nothing like you have prepared yourself.

I read adequate text, watched relevant videos, completed a hospital tour and could virtually imagine a vivid childbirth process. It did nothing for me. It was a totally different and overwhelming experience.

Jen had a near-perfect pregnancy. No sickness, no swelling, no cravings, no significant pain, no complications. Perhaps Albany was way too comfortable in Jen's womb. She was 8 days late and would easily, I suspect, be 2 weeks late if we allowed it.

Even when all inducement procedures were performed, she was never ready to be delivered after 8 hours of contractions. Perhaps she might be if we waited several hours more but we couldn't. A blood test indicated she was low on oxygen and undergoing distress at the 8th hour.

The staff in King Edward acted supremely fast. A big group of staff came in and performed a very well rehearsed drill to get Jen into the operation theatre. In less than 5 minutes, I was the only person left in the room zipping up our last bag. Everyone else disappeared, including Jen and her bed.

I was genuinely shellshocked. For hours, we waited and waited. Before this day we waited for 8 days for things to happen. Nothing did. In a span of 5 minutes, things happened at light-speed. I was ushered to a bay to change into sterile clothes and left sitting for a few minutes.

Parents would laugh at my reaction. My sisters assured me Jen was going to ok. I had female friends who dismissed my fears casually with that "Oh it'll be alright," the manner you suspected they don't mind doing it again any day. Pretty ineffective telling a student taking 'O' Levels for the first time that it is easy to pass it because I did, don't you think?

I had never been strong in adverse situation. I proved to be consistent in this case. Tucky returned the messages via watsapp fast and furious. If we were in Singapore today he will be at my side, I'm dead sure about that. He tried his best and I could feel his presence. He distracted me being distraught.

Before long I was ushered into the operation theatre. I was told to sit on the chair right beside Jen. I held her hand. She looked fine and I could hear surgical equipment making sucking noises. I knew Jen was bleeding profusely at that point. There were more than 10 members in the room. All familiar faces. Many doctors, midwives, that chap which did Jen's epidural was there was well. Several of them spoke to me when they walked past, asking questions that required a one-liner answer.

In what felt like 5 minutes, I heard a baby cry. I wasn't prepared for it at all. I looked around to see if there was another pregnant woman having her Caesarean section done. The only patient was Jen.

It was Albany's cries. There is no way to describe how I felt at that moment. I don't think any father could. Her cries were loud and clear. I've heard a baby's cry for probably a million times but this one was simply different. It was enchanting music in my ears. I stood up to have a look at Albany. Everyone congratulated me and commented how lovely she looked. By then I was dazed and didn't know who I responded to and what I replied. I kept my eyes fixed on my daughter.

I felt tears welling up and returned to Jen, held her hands again and praised her for holding herself exceptionally well. She received a lot of compliments from staff as well.

"Baby's ok," I relayed the information with a weak voice.

The surgical staff urged me on. "Where's your camera, daddy?"

I whipped my mobile phone and passed it to Lina, the veteran midwife. She handed me a half bloodied surgical scissors and told me to go ahead. I stepped forward and cut Albany's cord. It was harder than I expected, I took about 3 cuts to snip it off. The flash went during my final cut.

I took a picture of Albany and showed it to Jen immediately. Her eyes were sparkling, glinting with excitement as she took her glimpse. Just as quickly as the whole event lasts, I was asked to leave the theatre. With a last look at Jen's heavily bloodied abdomen of, I pushed Albany out in her trolley with lingering worries.

In another room, a Korean nurse gave Albany an injection, weighed and measured her. She demonstrated how to change diapers for Albany and asked me to have a go. I did it and she gave a surprised reaction.

"A natural father!" she cried.

Then she demonstrated how to hold the baby and demanded I did the same. I did it.

"Well done. You are a natural."

"Huh? What?"

"Now let's go to your ward. Your wife will be joining you in an hour or two," Ms Korean nurse commanded.

Albany and I were left in a quiet private ward. I took a look at her and she took a look at me through the tiny slits of her eyes. I knew she couldn't see me at that stage. Nevertheless I pat her gently and kissed her. She smelt of bodily fluids.

I carried her clumsily, trying to recall what I was taught a few minutes ago. Albany did not cry out and rested contentedly in my arms. We sat on the ledge by the window and enjoyed the sunset.

When Jen was finally delivered into the ward from the recovery room, Korean nurse came along and told Jen how much of a fast learner I was. That was when I learnt that many fathers fumbled and tumbled their first attempts.

As a hospital policy, Jen and Albany were bonded skin-to-skin. Albany was stripped out of her cosy layers and put in Jen's arms. Instinctively, Albany suckled. Jen's face glowed with pure contentment in her fatigue.

Time came and went. I fussed over Jen, feeding her before packing things up. By 2000 hrs Albany was separated from Jen and put in her cot right besides Jen's bed, where she would spend the rest of the night until the next morning when her dad returns to visit.

To visit his amazing wife and sweet child.

Match report by asingaporeanson.

Nearly hero

LEAGUE leaders PAP took an unexpected shock home defeat against the team at the bottom of the table last night. In the opening minutes, G.Fu put the PAP behind by conceding a penalty by bringing down a Peasant player in the box. Fu made a feeble appeal to the referee but was promptly ignored. The Snipers (Peasant's nickname) put away the penalty sending PAP's goalkeeper EH.Ng the wrong way.

Chan Chun Sing, The Flippers' (PAP's nickname) hottest young prospect, who started in the first 11 since the start of the season as one of the replacement to the wobbly legs of legendary wingers BT.Mah and KS.Wong, nearly went on to score for his team to put his team level.

Receiving the ball from his team captain Lee, he executed a Cruff' turn elegantly to take him past his nameless Sniper marker. Urged on by the delighted crowed, he took on two advancing Peasants midfielders, dribbling past them with ease. With a tricky drop shoulder, he completely floored the next defender before leaving two more defenders at his blazing trail. The crowd went insane.

With the goal in sight, Chan smelt blood and unleashed a ferocious shot which beat the advancing goalkeeper. The stands erupted to celebrate the goal bound shot, only to see the ball striking the crossbar so hard and rebounded beyond EH.Ng who was way out of his line, bouncing twice before rolling into PAP's goal.

At the other end of the goal, Chan was celebrating with his jersey over his head totally oblivious of the freak own goal he just scored.

The PAP did not recover from 2 goals down before the final whistle.

The official report

Expert's analysis:

~~Kee Chiu's~~ Mr Chan's actual quote:

"I don't think anyone of them comes here for the money. They come here to provide a better life for the next generation... One of the reasons why I stepped forward was because I know I'm joining a team of people that are not here for the money."

Whether he meant it or not, we'll put that aside first. Just reading what he said warms the heart. It's brilliant don't you think? You can't ask for anything more from Chan Chun Sing.

Then he had to continue speaking.

"Money should not be the one (factor) to attract them in. On the other hand, money should also not be the bugbear to deter them.

Hey, it's time to shut up already dude.

And he goes on and on:

"(For example,) you go to Peach Garden, you eat the S$10 XO Sauce chye tow kuay (fried carrot cake), you can be quite happy right? Because you are satisfied with the service and so on. On the other hand, you can go to a hawker centre, even if they charge you S$1.50, you might not want to eat it if the quality is not good."

And you think Mee Siam mai hum is the last food blooper anyone from the PAP can make.

$1.50 chye tow kuay? Does Mr Chan lives in the 80s? Is he aware that food of such pricing doesn't commonly exists anymore? Is that the reason why the men in white could not understand why peasants are finding life getting increasingly unaffordable? Misquote or misunderstanding, go on say it. Be the next flipper.

Is he aware that many poor to middle class income folks have to eat that 'poor quality' hawker food everyday even if they can be obviously happier eating that $10 version elsewhere? His analogy is absurd. In reality, we do not have a $1.50 alternative where ministers are concerned. Not even that $2.50 or $3.00 version.

Instead, we are forced to pay for that $10 XO Sauce chye tow kuay that we don't really want to eat everyday. If he realised what he was saying, this plate of $10 crap can buy peasants 6 plates of humble chye tow kuay, equally delicious and filling.

That simple version that wouldn't give us tummy ache.

Foreword

This is probably a post that nobody really wants to read. I've been procrastinating about it since I landed in Perth. That was way more than 100 days ago. It remained in my draft folder among several posts but this one stood out with the distinctively thick growing cob webs around it.

The post is about me. Specifically, why I seem to be a "Negative Person" to people I meet, how exasperating it is for people who cared about me to try to change my thinking and how this affects me generally in life.

I used to browse blogs now and then when I couldn't get to sleep. Reading about what others said about themselves was a healthier way than organic sleeping pills. Most importantly, it works every time. I'm comfortable in describing my experiences or expressing my opinion on issues but I cringed at the thought of writing about myself.

Oh well if I am to do it, I might as well strive to be the strongest sleeping medicine out there. I'll give it a best shot.

Introduction

They say what doesn't kills you, makes you stronger.

That's not true. Dementia for example, doesn't kill anyone but it doesn't make any victim stronger than before. So goes for getting your limbs amputated, blindness, deafness, breaking your spinal cord, losing your beloved ones etc.

Generic positive thinkers will insist it does make one stronger and that depends on his attitude and reaction towards the bad situation. If the victim didn't take that bad experience well enough, he is labelled as negative. If he recovers well above anyone's expectations, he is regarded as an inspiration. In reality, no one wants to be in their 'inspirer's' shoes in such cases. Positive thinkers and their hypocrisy.

History

I had played a lot of computer games in my life. Not close to any game geeks for sure, but enough for me to understand myself more by analysing the similar choices and actions I did for every game, from a kid to an adult.

Since I was a kid, I noticed I had very different preferences to my friends in the characters I would choose to represent myself. Every boy in the village would love to be the knight in shining armor. Or the brave tough as steel barbarian. Good aligned, lawful, order, justice. The closest I had convinced myself to play was 'neutral' because the other option was 'evil'. I did not like the sound of evil though I wanted to take the choice. I preferred to call it 'dark'.

I tried to play mainstream characters but it didn't work out. I started off as a knight but I soon realised I really didn't like it. I played the mage and sorceress and found it ok. It was only in Diablo II, I was introduced to the necromancer and it fitted me to perfection. From then I never looked back. I was completely at ease with the necromancer in Guildwars as well.

My friends teased me several times about Guildwars. I had almost played the entire game for years with only the necromancer despite being given 8 character slots. All these years, my friends stood in front of me in every game we played in, bashing and holding the line. I was always behind, crafting devastating dark powers. Without them, I couldn't survive. Without me, they wouldn't last very long either.

We had the same goal but we achieved it in different strokes, different styles.

In reality, I often have very different perspective to my friends. It was frustrating for my friends to bear with my contrarian views as much as it was for me to gain acceptance. I was seldom taken seriously for. The vex lasted until I grew to understand why. Like in the virtual world, I wasn't the main stream. I had been told I am a pessimist, negative person, an introvert throughout my whole life.

Discovery

I didn't change. Not because I didn't try or didn't see the need to. In fact I tried to be a positive bright character most of my life that I was unhappy most of the time trying to do so. Only during the last couple of years I realised and finally accepted who I am - a 'negative person'. Just that negativity meant differently to me.

This may sound baffling for many. I found that negativity and positivity have nothing to do with happiness. A negative pessimist can be happy and a positive optimist can be unhappy. I discovered negativity has its purposes and importance. It also has the same power like positivity if one harnesses it correctly.

The symbol, yin and yang bears great significant to life. The balancing forces counteract each other to form an equilibrium. Too much of either the light or dark is not beneficial. The key is to learn to control either entity and know where to place its use. Both positivity and negativity have the power to create and destroy.

However, positive thinking is more popular and society values it for strange reasons, condemning negativity to something to be frown upon, resulting in negativity a much harder element to master. In reality, many of these 'positive thinkers' are blind followers who memorise the principles but not truly understanding the essence. When trained, both have the same powers to optimally run one's life and neither of them are inferior to each other. Never neglect either.

Happiness

Everyone knows about positive thinking so I'm not going into that. As a negative thinking person in practice, I point out the imperfection with a product, a project, a system, a government, a country and mostly relevantly, my life. A well trained (not implying that I am) negative thinker anticipate set backs, danger and avoid them most of the time.

My friends urged me to 'think positive' because they felt and thought I was unhappy, thus I 'complain'. What they didn't know is that I am rarely unhappy when I pointed things out. I'm seldom affected emotionally about what I share. The 'positive thinkers', however are affected by me - the Bringer of Bad News. They could be adversely affected by my negativity that I am immune to and got real annoyed. I learnt this the hard way and kept my big mouth shut whenever I could.

Where happiness is concerned as I said earlier, I do not believe a positive person is necessarily happier than a negative person. The key lies somewhere else, which I hope I can share in another post in the near future.

I've seen peers obviously disgusted about overcrowding in the MRT, traffic jams on the roads and the disability to afford starting a family and still trying to find something positive to say about it or changing their ways to think about it. By channeling the unhappiness into a barrier-less realm and hope that it would miraculously convert it to happiness, it will simply creep back into your life eventually in the same form.

This is not positive thinking. This is delusion and short changing yourself.

Before I left Singapore, I thought I would be happier if I moved to Australia. I wasn't wrong. But it was neither migration nor Australia which made me happy, contrary to what I initially assumed. Instead, the move gave me an opportunity to discover a little about how happiness works. Perhaps many people already discovered many more keys to happiness but I'll still want to write something about it as a continuation of this post. That'll be another day.

Conclusion

I am happier than before but as far as I'm concerned about my negativity, nothing's changed. I'm going to be misunderstood all my life. For eg. My friends still think I'm angry whenever I wrote something negative about Singapore. In reality, I have never been. If I were to tell you that, more than often, I was grinning when I wrote my articles, will you believe it? I call it dark humor.

Not quite funny to positive white knights out there, I understand.

From Mr Wallace Ng's facebook wall:

The story is that a Deloitte's partner put this on the front door of its office: "Our office hours starts at 8:30am, not 9am, not 9:30am, not 10am. Your longest serving partner. "

The notice at the bottom is the reply from an unnamed DTT colleague: "Our working hours end at 5:30pm, not 12:00am, not 3am, not 6am. Your humble servant "

Wow! Such a brave move! Unbelievable!

My wife showed this picture to me this morning with a keen face, expecting a reaction. Then her expression changed, because no reaction came. Still with a straight face, I asked her, "What's this?"

I didn't know what I was supposed to comment about. I had a lot of thoughts when I saw this picture and Mr Wallace Ng's own comments.

Some background

Jen was an external auditor in one of the so call "Big 4" auditing companies. "Big Deal" is what I think of them. For outsiders who are unaware of the employment structure of these companies, freshies join them as junior auditors. There are usually 2 ranks of junior auditors, just our corporals in our army - the lance corporals and corporals, still the same shitty low rank.

After a year or two , if everything goes well, junior auditors get promoted to senior and supervisor or assistant manager then the manager position, a pinnacle position everyone hopes to attain. From there, nobody cares. I doubt that many people aim to go all the way up to the partner position, where they have some kind of stake in the company, something like a shareholder.

That's all I know as an observer from the side.

Our story

Jen was 4 months pregnant when it happened. She didn't come home. It wasn't that unusual, given the nature of the job. But she didn't inform me like she normally would. Her mobile battery wasn't dead. She didn't switch off the phone either.

As a guy who didn't know a thing about pregnancy, I was struck with fear each time a family member or a friend warned me about how easy it was to get a miscarriage in the first trimester of pregnancy. Lack of proper sleep was one of the items. The purpose of that call was to remind her it was 23:30 hrs already and it was time to come home.

I must have called her at least 10 times. I did not do that kind of thing prior to this incident. The frantic built up exponentially with each missed call. Then I gave up. I didn't know what to do and went for a jog. I did jog routines of easily 10km each time around that period but that night I couldn't not concentrate on running at all. I stopped and walked after 2km, pondering what to do.

Jen called back

Then the phone rang. It was just one of those moments when you were so relieved that you could cry and tell the caller you loved her but you didn't. I didn't. I barked at Jen and questioned her. She told me she was in a meeting and it just ended. I looked at the time.

0000hrs.

What company does meetings at 0000hrs? The Big fuck four, as well as many companies I guess. Including the last company I worked for in Singapore. But why? Does anyone question why does it have to be this way? Just because everyone complies?

Jen came back at 2am that night and as late the subsequent nights. But the last strand of rope was burnt that night. I told Jen to resign from her job and we were leaving Singapore earlier than we initially planned to.

I could not risk my baby's life for what pittance they paid an assistant manager, or any other amount.

Longest serving partner

Back to the picture. 3 possibilities came to my mind.

1) The longest serving partner does not know his staff works till the wee hours. That makes him a clueless incapable superior.

2) If the longest serving partner knows that and still insisted his staff to report to work at 0830 hrs the following day, obviously without adequate sleep that any human being requires, he is a scumbag.

3) If he was just potting an early April Fool joke, he's a clown.

He's either a clueless dumbass, a scumbag or a clown. Only he has the answer.

"Wow! Such a brave move! Unbelievable!"

Mr Ng's comment roused some thoughts in me. Was the anonymous staff brave by posting a response to the clueless dumbass/scumbag/leader of epic fail?

I really don't want to bring Australia up but I have to. Over here, subordinates have the absolute right to shove it up his superior's arse if he forced them to work over-time against their wills even with overtime penalties payable.

Even for a lowly trade assistant like me, my factory manager has to ask me personally if I can stay for an extra hour or two that night or that public holiday. Each time I am clearly told I have the choice not to stay back and I will be paid if I do. No forcing, no threatening, no emotional blackmail. For they know, every employee and employer in Australia knows, this is how work works.

It is a different culture in Singapore of course. I was one of you back there. I didn't dare to question and I didn't dare not to oblige. No one spoke out. That was how we were brought up to work. My eyes were closed until I left Singapore.

I'm not bringing this up to raise another meaningless Singapore vs Australia debate. I hope to open more minds about recognising the unhealthy working culture in Singapore as the root of our abysmal birth-rate and possibly other social issues.

Who is interested in the problem?

As usual, no one wants to catch the hot brick in Singapore. It's hard to get problems solved when no one wants to admit there is a problem in the first place. Eg. "Ponding" remember? That's how things are nowadays.

MCYS: Yes we are in charge of birthrate issues but this is a manpower issue so please go to MOM ah.

MOM: [template] Our guidelines are such that __________ (fill in the blank) is not a statutory entitlement under the Employment Act.

It is a contractual obligation of the employer to _________ (fill in the blank) if this is provided for in the employment contract or employee handbook. Otherwise _______ (fill in the blank) is subject to negotiation and mutual agreement between the employer and employee.

UNION:

If you want to put something like "you can choose to leave" as a comment, save it. We fucking left.

Past Rants