I was just reading Neil Humphrey's book on Singapore, and it made me feel incredibly sad. I was reading a chapter where he talks about his experience of going on a trip to America with a Singaporean tour group. The chapter was mainly about him griping about the usual ugly displays of kiasuism, but what struck me more was the fact that the itinerary he described seemed quite similar to the one I had when I visited the Land of the Free four years ago. And for that reason, it made me incredibly sad.
Call it nostalgia, but for me it was also a realization of the future. I suddenly remembered what it was like to stand on the hillside overlooking Toledo, Spain, a lovely medieval town. I suddenly remembered watching the waves of the Pacific crash onto the American coast. I suddenly remembered my family together on tour. And I also suddenly realised that such an experience might quite possibly never happen again.
You see, the last time I went on tour with my family was two years ago, after the O Levels. It was always my dream to go flying again after the A's, before I entered the army. That dream is now gone. And by the time I leave the army, I don't know if the circumstances will allow another trip. It is quite possible that my tour to Spain was my last family tour. And that struck me to the heart.
I walked out of my bedroom and I was suddenly struck by the sight of all those photos. My family displays photoframes of the places we've been in the living room. So everywhere I turned I saw pictures of us smiling, in San Francisco, Paris, Korea, Lisbon, Australia and so on. It sounds melodramatic but I really felt sad at that point. The only possible planes I'll be on in the next two years will be ugly green transports ferrying me to my next destination where I shall further my training in shooting, trekking in jungles, and generally trying to defend this island. Even when I do tour again it probably won't be the same again without my family. God, I hate the army for what they've done.
To the guys who only enlist in January or April, to the girls who don't have to enlist at all, please, buy a plane ticket, and go somewhere with your loved ones before it's too late. If all travel does is to broaden our horizons, it will have been enough. There is more to this world than this concrete jungle ensconced by water.
As for me, there remains a box of chocolates.
Tuesday, October 31, 2006
Thursday, October 19, 2006
Yesterday part of the cell went to Woodlands to celebrate Tedric's birthday. Yes, Woodlands, of all places. At first I was shocked, cos the message read that he had a night out so I assumed that he had the whole night out in which case why go to Woodlands if his camp is nearby? It turned out that army guys get Wednesday night off each week, but they have to return to camp by the end of the night.
However instead of the birthday boy being the center of attention, it was Shannon. Shannon is this most adorable four month old baby with absolutely marvellous large round eyes. I'm a sucker for large round eyes in babies. She has cute little bulldog cheeks (it doesn't sound nice here, but you have to imagine her cheeks bulging out, a bit like a bulldog's), and she hardly ever cries. It is technically possible to just sit and watch her for hours without growing bored. She has the entire cell enraptured everywhere she goes, and it's impossible to describe her cuteness wihout using superlatives all day long. She's just soooo cuuuttteee!!
However, Shannon is also a sign of our age. By the time she's 18, I'll be 36. When she's 21, I'll be 39. When your cell leader becomes a father, you know you're growing old. I really can't imagine the cell walking around, middle aged, while Shannon and co. run past, echoes of our long lost youth. It will be, "Hi, Uncle Joel! Hi, Uncle Landy! Hi Aunty Anna, etc..", while I, in polo tee and shorts (the classic uncle look as Quek calls it) watch on benevolently. Benevolence. The very word implies age.
Ah well, there is a certain dignity in a paunch and shiny top. I can very well imagine myself sipping kopi in the verandah of the club house after a game of golf somewhere in Malaysia.
In other news, I have somewhat to say about the haze. I can't stand this irritating white smog everywhere I go. Even now as I write I'm breathing in ash. Every morning upon awakening I see my surrounding neighbourhood blanketed in white clouds. As you may know, I live on the 19th floor, so I command a view of the entire south of the island. On a normal day I can see the whole city, plus Orchard Road (I can even see Tangs and Ngee Ann City). Now, all I see day after day is a blank wall in every direction. It wouldn't even be so bad if it didn't smell so much like smoke. The only redeeming quality about the haze I can think of is the European fog-like ambience it gives Singapore, albeit a choking, smelly fog-like quality...
However instead of the birthday boy being the center of attention, it was Shannon. Shannon is this most adorable four month old baby with absolutely marvellous large round eyes. I'm a sucker for large round eyes in babies. She has cute little bulldog cheeks (it doesn't sound nice here, but you have to imagine her cheeks bulging out, a bit like a bulldog's), and she hardly ever cries. It is technically possible to just sit and watch her for hours without growing bored. She has the entire cell enraptured everywhere she goes, and it's impossible to describe her cuteness wihout using superlatives all day long. She's just soooo cuuuttteee!!
However, Shannon is also a sign of our age. By the time she's 18, I'll be 36. When she's 21, I'll be 39. When your cell leader becomes a father, you know you're growing old. I really can't imagine the cell walking around, middle aged, while Shannon and co. run past, echoes of our long lost youth. It will be, "Hi, Uncle Joel! Hi, Uncle Landy! Hi Aunty Anna, etc..", while I, in polo tee and shorts (the classic uncle look as Quek calls it) watch on benevolently. Benevolence. The very word implies age.
Ah well, there is a certain dignity in a paunch and shiny top. I can very well imagine myself sipping kopi in the verandah of the club house after a game of golf somewhere in Malaysia.
In other news, I have somewhat to say about the haze. I can't stand this irritating white smog everywhere I go. Even now as I write I'm breathing in ash. Every morning upon awakening I see my surrounding neighbourhood blanketed in white clouds. As you may know, I live on the 19th floor, so I command a view of the entire south of the island. On a normal day I can see the whole city, plus Orchard Road (I can even see Tangs and Ngee Ann City). Now, all I see day after day is a blank wall in every direction. It wouldn't even be so bad if it didn't smell so much like smoke. The only redeeming quality about the haze I can think of is the European fog-like ambience it gives Singapore, albeit a choking, smelly fog-like quality...
Saturday, October 14, 2006
In the light of the North Korean nuclear crisis and the worsening international relations with the Dear Leader, I have seen fit to create a new email account for business only. If you look at my current email address you will understand why I have undertaken this move. I don't think universities or scholarship committees would be very impressed with the sentiments my address seems to imply I have. I will still be using the current account though, since all my messanger contacts are there. If anyone wants my new account just msg me and I'll send it over. But no spamming please...
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
These are the last days
These are the last days of the sun at dawn,
The morning draws to a close.
Weep farewell to the mists of youth
That softened the glare of life.
What though the mid-day be glorious
And the sun's light strongest?
Strong light burns harshest.
And have not men turned fey
In a quest for second birth?
Yet, to Cuivienen there is no returning,
And the sun, being risen, must fade into evening.
Let us therefore make our farewells sweet,
And gird up our loins as we speak,
For these are indeed the last days of the sun at dawn.
When I got home today I was seized by a strong realization that tomorrow, my twelve years of education in St. Andrew's formally draws to a close. Of course, I've known this fact all along. But knowing something and knowing it are two different things. That realization brought a tinge of sadness along with it. It's like an entire chapter of my life is now closing. No more classes, no more morning assemblies, no more morning devotions, no school song, no national anthem, none of the regularity of the school year, no more teachers. My childhood ends tomorrow. From then on we are on our own, borne along only by the support of friends and family. But in the rest of our lives, especially the educational sphere, we will be for the first time truly on our own. There will be no teachers in the conventional sense to guide, just distant professors. The spoon feeding comes to an end. And in the looming background, now drawing all too close with every passing day, is that terrible debt of service to the nation, my pound of flesh.
I think a lot of people feel it differently from me. In class I think only Hanis would understand what I mean when I say a chapter in my life is closing. For others I think it is also the end of a part of their lives, but they might have already gone through institutional changes in the past, so tomorrow, the end for them means the end of formal pre-university education. For me it's that plus more, the end of the St. Andrew's era in my life. The end of that unique brand of education through all my formative years, warts and all. It will not be long before I stop wearing the blue and the white forever. I think I'll go and preserve my uniforms.
The morning draws to a close.
Weep farewell to the mists of youth
That softened the glare of life.
What though the mid-day be glorious
And the sun's light strongest?
Strong light burns harshest.
And have not men turned fey
In a quest for second birth?
Yet, to Cuivienen there is no returning,
And the sun, being risen, must fade into evening.
Let us therefore make our farewells sweet,
And gird up our loins as we speak,
For these are indeed the last days of the sun at dawn.
When I got home today I was seized by a strong realization that tomorrow, my twelve years of education in St. Andrew's formally draws to a close. Of course, I've known this fact all along. But knowing something and knowing it are two different things. That realization brought a tinge of sadness along with it. It's like an entire chapter of my life is now closing. No more classes, no more morning assemblies, no more morning devotions, no school song, no national anthem, none of the regularity of the school year, no more teachers. My childhood ends tomorrow. From then on we are on our own, borne along only by the support of friends and family. But in the rest of our lives, especially the educational sphere, we will be for the first time truly on our own. There will be no teachers in the conventional sense to guide, just distant professors. The spoon feeding comes to an end. And in the looming background, now drawing all too close with every passing day, is that terrible debt of service to the nation, my pound of flesh.
I think a lot of people feel it differently from me. In class I think only Hanis would understand what I mean when I say a chapter in my life is closing. For others I think it is also the end of a part of their lives, but they might have already gone through institutional changes in the past, so tomorrow, the end for them means the end of formal pre-university education. For me it's that plus more, the end of the St. Andrew's era in my life. The end of that unique brand of education through all my formative years, warts and all. It will not be long before I stop wearing the blue and the white forever. I think I'll go and preserve my uniforms.
Wednesday, October 04, 2006
Yesterday in school while I was buying food Mr Lian walked up to me and patted me on the baxk, asking how I was, how I did for the prelims. I was quite surprised actually, since I only know him because of College Day. It's nice having a fellow kinsman in school, hahaha.
Later that day I went out for dinner with John, Kevin and Vincent, the Presidents' Association of Elohim (PAE), hahah. I love seeing these guys around in school. They never fail to brighten my day. I think I'm very blessed in a way to have my cell members in school. It's a pity I'm only fully appreciating this fact at the end of my tenure in JC. People like them really remind me of God's love; that warm, understanding environment where Christ is the head of the family. I wish at times I could just spend the rest of my days in church, but then again church is where we are empowered to go out into the world, and we can't all be hermits.
Later that day I went out for dinner with John, Kevin and Vincent, the Presidents' Association of Elohim (PAE), hahah. I love seeing these guys around in school. They never fail to brighten my day. I think I'm very blessed in a way to have my cell members in school. It's a pity I'm only fully appreciating this fact at the end of my tenure in JC. People like them really remind me of God's love; that warm, understanding environment where Christ is the head of the family. I wish at times I could just spend the rest of my days in church, but then again church is where we are empowered to go out into the world, and we can't all be hermits.
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