the violent jolt of the city

it has been an entire month in nyc, a month that vacillated between boredom and thrill, routine and discovery. even though cracking the mystery of nyc in such a short time might seem improbable, it finally comes to me on the last sunday. it is a hopeful afternoon and i am sitting in the front row, far left of the nederlander theatre, listening to jonathan larson speak to me.

new york city. the hustle-bustle, unforgiving crush of commuters an tourists, the ebb and flow of human flesh, the squalor of west 41st just one block down from the goddess that is 42nd street. this is where the upper east side borders harlem, where queens residents hop on the immigrant express into town, where hippies and yuppies wear brooklyn pride on their sleeve, and where visitors like me never step into the bronx. it is times square, is rotting subway stations, is leaking roofs, is quiet and pulsing nights, is the wail and yelp of the fire department, is defiant, is amazingly recuperative.


it is defiant. it resists categorization. typically it would be called a melting pot, but that isnt true because nothing really mixes. there is a mélange of peoples - families, yuppies, tourists, couchsurfers, students, artists, immigrants, mothers and brothers all fighting and stuggling to survive. they fight and struggle to survive, and beyond that, to live. we all do it in our own selfish but necessary way. where life offers itself, spread out in front of you as opportunity does in this city, you do all you can to eke out the best living, the best life for yourself and your loved ones.

this is how we live and survive, and it must get better - that is the hope that lights the city, which rushes to fill any void or heal any wound, no matter how gaping. i look at this as an outsider but i have been swept away by this struggle for life and love in the city. after all, this job, the now-dead cat, craig, rooftop bonanzing, and late night storms, these are just my own petty ways of demanding my life, satisfaction, fulfilment and exhilaration from this city and its masses. the city, brimming life and love, the lack thereof, the fight for more.

grace kelly crimes

like a hollywod princess, a european legend of elegance and dignity, the changi chapel invited us in with her whitewashed walls and bright cheery courtyard. we enter unsuspectingly for another run-of-the-mill war museum (LP Singapore has a boxed text titled "Do mention the war."), and the beginning few parts did little to convince us otherwise. Call me a sucker if you wil, but the next parts soon got me choking back a crest inside my chest. there was something deeply moving about the stories of comrades surviving the prison camps together with good humour and good luck. decades later, they'd meet again in entirely different circumstances, their fates irreversibly diverged. a few more years later, they'd pass on and then their children would visit and pen such devastating notes of gratitude, nostalgia and admiration. and herein, perhaps, lies the appeal of this museum. it's so understated and comes from behind to throw it's message over your eyes, instead of hitting you over the head with it; translating the camaraderie and fraternity of these brave men and women into modern-day sentences.




In other news, i tied a knot on a cherry stem using my tongue.

Where are you from? The press?

The much-awaited Khatib Bongsu hike takes place today after morning gym. Ahmad and I, plus Eamon. We set off with a homecooked lunch in our bags, binoculars too, with no map, and just a general sense of direction. And well, it isnt too hard to find. The hike begins fairly easy enough as we slip pass the "security" at the beginning of the track. Just ten minutes into the walk and we lose sight of the last HDB block. Birds are singing somewhere behind the leaves of the tree, so we never get to see them. What we do see are massive bird's nests and bird's nest ferns (after a little debate). There's also a scoring system for spotting cool stuff, naming it gives you bonus points. So there're papaya and coconut trees, tapioca and banana plants, a snake, running streams and empty mangrove ponds. We pass by the first obstacle, contractors putting up the "shoot at sight" sign, by waving them away. Dithering a little bit and stopping every five seconds to peer at things, the sky turns overcast and starts to piss down (hence the lack of pictures). The ponds begin to fill up as we trudge along through puddles of water, Ahmad with his brolly, Eamon in his jacket, and I in my, uh, trash bag. Rain aside and an hour and a half into our little hike, we meet our last and final obstacle in the form of A Civil Servant. Dressed in his statutory board-issued office gear and driving his trusty Toyota (prolly from years of toiling behind his desk), he scrambles to us in his leather shoes, avoiding puddles, screaming, "Where are you from?"



Strange looks are exchanged. Me, "Uh.. nowhere in particular."



"Did you take any pictures? Are you from the press?"

No, NO!"



He tells us to turn back and even tells us to walk carefully, lest we fall and our insurance companies sue him for making us walk back in Stormy Weather. Born-and-bred Singaporeans, we accept his as yet unproven authority and make our way out without challenging him (Eamon is too wet and tired to bother). Emerging from the wilderness, we go to the park gazebo for the lunch, eating on the floor with our hands, much to the bemusement of Yishun primary school children passing by. So, while the Singapore Troubadours suffer a moral setback at the hands of the Civil Service, Australian Backpacker Eamon gets a right instructive introduction to Singapore 'Burbs, Wildlife and Government.



And.. we go to the NS40 exhibition at Orchar Road, where we get to wield rifles in the middle of the city. Uniquely Singapore! Nothing is disallowed, every is just yet to be allowed.

Badger Badger Badger

A little trip to Dharma's new Bukit Timah home (welcome to the club, bitch), meant the scheduled twenty minutes on the cab, and the unscheduled one hour walking around trying to find the place. Well, as Dan says, schedule one hour for mistakes. Getting there, I'm fed heaps of frickin' good South Indian food, not to mention ice water. Mmm ice water...

Night is Geylang for durians and whores, pretty ones, no less. Karyn and Dan are leaving tomorrow, and I dont want them to go!

Where's the Biatch?

The Zoo and the Night Safari! What more is there to be said! We pack our lunch and dinner and are on our jolly way!

This stupid bird caught a fish it couldnt eat.

Mmm. Polar bears.

Mmm. White tiger. Highlight together with the flying squirrel from the Night Safari.

Dan and I think the baboons are just hilarious.

We're outside the puma enclosure.

This warning is outside the puma enclosure.

This fat lard was sleeping.

As we're walking past thu puma, we cross paths with four dudes who were whistling "Maneater". We break up in laughter because that song had been stuck in our heads on Thursday. Later, these dudes help us take a picture at the giant tortoises.

There're simply too many otters!

Soundbites
"No archer fish! There's nothing here! Go home!" - Zoo dude whom we asked for directions to the archer fish. Ok, maybe we made the last two up.
"Again, we're in a zoo.'' Karyn to Daniel and I after we keep discussing which animal would taste better.


Karyn, Dan and I join in the free buffet at the Panasonic Asia-Pacific Family Day 2007. The magician was really bad.

Prang!

Karyn and Dan from Canada drop by Singapore for five days while going through Europe and Southeast Asia. We're all easygoing so it's like we're old chums except we've only met last night. The National Museum has a great exhibition on Arab culture, Living Under the Crescent Moon. Since I'd already planned on going, I invite them along and we all go together.

Who wants to look at the musuem?

Some parts of the Museum are free on some parts of the day, but we decided to go the whole hog and pay the entrance fee. But boy, the museum was huge, and after four hours, we'd only coverd less than a quarter of it. Too much history and culture to take in at one go, so we fled the museum with our tails between our legs.

Lunch!

The view from our picnic spot.

The boys are a little defective.

My frisbee's in my bag so we decide to get some food and picnic at the Padang and toss the frisbee. That is, until a thunderstorm threatens, and the SCC threatens us too. So we cut short our frisbee game for some ice kachang under the Esplanade Bridge. Next to the water, sheltered from the rain, they're stuffing their face on mediocre ice kachang when they suddenly choke and realise that the Merlion's right THERE. Picture-taking is in order (of course) and we try to bully the other tourist groups (7 & 9).

Karyn and Dan do their mandatory shot.

While Karyn takes this gorgeous one.

Next stop, Raffles Hotel's Long Bar for the Singapore Sling ("How colonial"). We get a little lost, oddly enough, and my credibility as a local is cast into doubt. In my defence, we were underground. It's true though, that until now, I havent really explored my own city, and all this outings with travellers are making me feel like even I'm on holiday too. Grrreat. This is like the extended summer vacation-December/June holiday-spring break-block leave-gap year. Wicked!

25SGD cocktail. We all share one, and we're the colloquial bums to the bemusment of the business types in the Long Bar.

We try to make it look like Karyn's throwing peanut shells while drinking her Singapore Sling.

I Want To Go To

Rainforest World Music Festival, in Sarawak's Borneon jungles. W6za and Okeiko have an invitation to go and now i'm invited too. Ah...


Picture by Sarawak Tourism Board

Expositions

Okeiko and W6za come back from KL and are leaving for Darwin tonight. What I'd do to go with them! We pack spaghetti for them and it's so odd to be the host saying goodbye this time!





After having been a Stage Club member for almost a year, and putting off doing anything at all for that duration, I finally go for an audition today. For Macbeth, no less. It's a cosy little affair in a clubhouse of which the same can be said. Everyone's prolly been in about, oh, seven productions. Me, I've just been G.A.R.B., which, something tells me, doesnt really count anyway. Hell, there's even Mr Mac as Macbeth. I'd be very lucky if I could get a role at all. We'll see.

Open Eyes

We go to Wild Wild Wet in the morning and again, it's a first for all of us. Man, was I even alive in the past year? It's a CNY crowd, which means that of course it's packed, but with MIO's only. The place is pretty small and the rides arent even scary at all except perhaps for this one ride. In any case, it's a chance to swim and get some sun and exercise, not to mention that they're paying.




I have to go visiting after that while they wisely decide to go to Bukit Timah. This is the year that the aunties start asking for me about my girlfriend, of which there is none. For that matter, boy or girl, whatev, maybe I dont want anything now because it's great as it is and I dont want to spoil it. (But if twas R, I take that back.) Cue awkward smile, pretend to be the asexual boy I was a decade ago and keep stuffing my face so I dont have to talk. Ugh.. Chinese New Year will never be the same again. Not after puberty, NS, leaving the country and studying overseas. Now I am almost the adult son who needs to carry on the family name (which name?), challenge my father for the patriarchy (what from whom?), and be able to discuss cheerfully When I Will Come To Be Filial To You Too (when? where?).

Is it any wonder then, any wrong, that I dont want to have to be here anymore?

Money and You Get Rich

Chinese New Year this year raises the spectre, as it does every year, of horrible Hokkien Chinese songs extolling the importance of money and getting rich and/or the its direct link to the happiness in the coming year. Well. And too many relatives in a too small, cramped HDB flat with too oily food. Here's hoping that the two Estonians will provide much needed company, or if the need arises, sufficient distraction.

Reunion dinner is a boring steamboat affair (again) and we proceed to eat until we are too stuffed or sweaty or in pain from all the chilli. Already the ploy to save my sanity by using the Estonians is paying off. After a little resting and dozing off, we go to River Hongbao, which, once again, will be the first for all of us.


We park the car at Central and then walk down most parts of the Civic District towards the river. I'm beginning to like the city the way I did when I was still in Central.

Fireworks this time round arent such a massive affair, but was still breathtaking nonetheless.

River Hongbao is an orgy of sights and sounds that abuse the senses with red, horrid, tacky, jarring statuettes and songs. This can only be the work of a group of Chinese organisations, at the instigation of the STB, to draw people from all over to usher in the Spring Festival in the traditional Chinese way. Oh, for godssakes. Okeiko and W6za know immediately when they see this that it is, unfortunately, a literal and figurative money tree.

Away from the madding crowd, we visit a temple

Estonia Coming

With the prodigal son coming home, the family has also entered a new phase as hosts to travellers from around the world. Today a couple from Estonia will be coming from Chennai and Mum has cleaned, baked and cooked, and my sister has, well, just cleaned herself. As for me, the room just needs a little packing and it's habitable once again.

Vilmar (W6za) and Annika (Okeiko) have their backs turned to me, facing the canal as I go to pick them up at Kembangan MRT Station. They have very little stuff and seem to be tired and dirty, how typical. They're fed and cleaned and rested, by which time we're pretty cool with each other so Chinatown seems like a good place to go to, even for me, it'll be our first time there.



A crazy rude man shouts at Okeiko, "No photo, no photo! You want, you buy!"

Mmmuah chee.. after so long

The way Hon describes this elephant, I just HAD to come see it

It's noisy, red, commercial, packed, hot and sultry. It isnt so bad, at least not as tacky as the day I was shopping at Giant for the BBQ stuff

Homies

Carly and Tony bring me to the community centre for some basketball. They have an amazing after-work life. Most days I just go home and sleep. They're a pretty odd young couple. Very hospitable but obviously still settling down. Carly makes dinner from frozen chicken nuggets toasted in an oven and sprayed with canola oil. She mixes Doritos in with the salad and also toasts some frozen potato wedges. She makes tom yum kway chap from instant packets and we all have to sit in front of the TV for dinner. It is too loud and we cant hear each other talking and the chicken is tasteless. But still, this is my first real meal since the Big Aussie Burger so it's much appreciated. Carly gives birth in 6 months so I hope she starts eating better.