Hey Eggy, guess what? HUGE things happened on Thursday. The lifeblood of the MRT went down. Marina Bay to Braddell in both directions. It was all over the news, every one talked and ranted about it. Only people denying the severity is SMRT.
Then of course, there I was, feverish the whole day, trying to find an opportunity to slip home earlier. But everything had to fall in line nicely right in front of me. When I finally had the go ahead to tap my access card out, our first world country's public transport system crashed.
One year on, both events I had first person encounter in made front page headlines. What a way to remember you.
Just to let you know, which you already do, everyone here at home misses you.
Saturday, December 17, 2011
Saturday, December 03, 2011
What makes a teacher
I remember ever telling this MP how important it was for secondary school students to like their teacher, and very literally, I saw my words fall flat off her.
It might seem like it's pandering to the immaturity of adolescence, but how many actually realise that secondary school students liking their teacher has nothing to do with superficial popularity. It's simply about being a good teacher.
By the nature of the job, a person is institutionalised as a teacher when he or she is certified to be better versed in the syllabus than the receivers of the education. But it does not mean that the students are innately dependent on you because of that. I myself had deliberately slept through every biology lesson in secondary four, and did the learning independently at home. (But I started the self-studying late and only managed an A2. Bleah.)
Teaching is not just about delivering the syllabus, it is also about being a mentor to the students who have been entrusted to you. It's really not about calling their parents when they didn't do their homework (seriously, this is secondary school), neither is it about yelling and thinking they are hopeless at the slightest issue, nor is it about talking down and expecting to be accorded respect because of your position. Also, it is not about becoming one of them.
It's about being that guiding light they can turn to.
If we were to just pause and reflect on our school days, I think it wouldn't be difficult for us to point out what about that teacher makes us naturally want to sit up and listen.
It's the teacher's genuine heart to nurture you.
Knowing the syllabus is a given; that is what you are trained and paid to do. Being a mentor, is what so many in the teaching profession have neglected.
Sixteen turning seventeen is a chaotic age of curiosity and uncertainty. Students are very quickly moving into a different phase in life, and everything to them is simultaneously possible and unreachable. Can you imagine how much the teacher who sees them more often than their parents can influence! Even more so when you are with at-risk children, how pivotal you can be to stop problems before they take root.
It is true that a lot of this is contingent on the student's own attitude. But even the best student with the most commendable attitude would not choose a mentor who cares only about the textbook. Elitist, authoritarian and downright naive teachers are, needless to say, out of the question.
Conversely, it is also true that there are too many students out there who gave up on their studies because their teachers first gave up on them.
Granted, there are many teachers who wholeheartedly want to groom the students in their care, and I give them my most heartfelt salute. And for the few I have had the great fortune to have met, thank you for teaching me what I really need in life.
But having been taught for 18 years, and having accessed the staff room for 3 months, and increasingly knowing more who teach, I am finding myself meeting a majority who misinterpret the teaching vocation. And I really shudder when I look at them and wonder "Will this by the teacher of my kids?"
Perhaps we all need to stop and ask ourselves, are you who you want to teach your children?
It might seem like it's pandering to the immaturity of adolescence, but how many actually realise that secondary school students liking their teacher has nothing to do with superficial popularity. It's simply about being a good teacher.
By the nature of the job, a person is institutionalised as a teacher when he or she is certified to be better versed in the syllabus than the receivers of the education. But it does not mean that the students are innately dependent on you because of that. I myself had deliberately slept through every biology lesson in secondary four, and did the learning independently at home. (But I started the self-studying late and only managed an A2. Bleah.)
Teaching is not just about delivering the syllabus, it is also about being a mentor to the students who have been entrusted to you. It's really not about calling their parents when they didn't do their homework (seriously, this is secondary school), neither is it about yelling and thinking they are hopeless at the slightest issue, nor is it about talking down and expecting to be accorded respect because of your position. Also, it is not about becoming one of them.
It's about being that guiding light they can turn to.
If we were to just pause and reflect on our school days, I think it wouldn't be difficult for us to point out what about that teacher makes us naturally want to sit up and listen.
It's the teacher's genuine heart to nurture you.
Knowing the syllabus is a given; that is what you are trained and paid to do. Being a mentor, is what so many in the teaching profession have neglected.
Sixteen turning seventeen is a chaotic age of curiosity and uncertainty. Students are very quickly moving into a different phase in life, and everything to them is simultaneously possible and unreachable. Can you imagine how much the teacher who sees them more often than their parents can influence! Even more so when you are with at-risk children, how pivotal you can be to stop problems before they take root.
It is true that a lot of this is contingent on the student's own attitude. But even the best student with the most commendable attitude would not choose a mentor who cares only about the textbook. Elitist, authoritarian and downright naive teachers are, needless to say, out of the question.
Conversely, it is also true that there are too many students out there who gave up on their studies because their teachers first gave up on them.
Granted, there are many teachers who wholeheartedly want to groom the students in their care, and I give them my most heartfelt salute. And for the few I have had the great fortune to have met, thank you for teaching me what I really need in life.
But having been taught for 18 years, and having accessed the staff room for 3 months, and increasingly knowing more who teach, I am finding myself meeting a majority who misinterpret the teaching vocation. And I really shudder when I look at them and wonder "Will this by the teacher of my kids?"
Perhaps we all need to stop and ask ourselves, are you who you want to teach your children?
Sunday, November 27, 2011
What makes the city different?
How is it that if you were to be plucked from where you were and placed somewhere in Singapore, you would instantly know if you were in the city or in the heartlands?
Is it because of the people, the buildings, or the roads?
What makes the city so instantly distinguishable from the suburban heartlands?
Is it the people who are more often dressed in smart collars and shoes? Is it the fast walking pace down the busy streets?
Or maybe it is the buildings that are taller than your eyes can see? Or the glass and steel that make every building shine through the skies?
Could it be the roads that wind into every conceivable space? Or the cars that flow through in an endless stream?
But, do not the people rushing in the city first come from the heartlands? Are not the buildings all climbing higher and higher? Do not the roads grow even thinner, longer and denser as we stretch out into the heartlands?
How could it be that we can immediately identify?
How is it that we just know?
Maybe, it's not any of those.
Maybe, it's us.
Maybe, because we are home.
Thursday, October 13, 2011
Self-Help Groups in Singapore
I was trying to finish up "The Fortune at the Bottom of the Pyramid" the past two days, when I came across, again, the story on ICICI Bank's efforts in granting Indian villagers access to micro finance and credit.
Out of the many, well, superfluous, cases the book presented, and the idealistic tone the pages were soaked in, this case stood out to me as something practical and, now that I know the word, sustainable.
I used to think that any efforts in alleviating poverty necessitated donations and compassion. And while I found it a noble calling, I often had a nagging sense that charitable efforts were an end in itself, and from all perspectives, uncertain.
Forgive my naivety, for I was not more than a teenager when those thoughts first took root.
ICICI's story was what made me stop and reflect.
Central to their outreach efforts was this concept of Self-Help Groups (SHG). It is somewhat similar to the neighbourhood tontines Singapore used to have in the 80s, but with the additional backing and oversight of a bank. In these groups of 20, women were pooled together by the bank to contribute regular amounts to a group savings account. They had their own internal systems which pressured members' attendance at their monthly meetings, timely contribution to the savings account, and collectively decided on issues such as the allocation of funds to a certain member for pre-specified emergency needs.
Of course, the process carries much more complexity than the quick summary I have given. The amount of local knowledge needed to select suitable candidates for one is an aspect that cannot be easily captured in quick writing.
What sprung out to me in this endeavor is the bank's initiative to build a culture of saving in rural India. ICICI outlined this in 3 steps:
1. Learn to save.
2. Learn to lend what you have saved (referring to the SHG as a whole).
3. Learn to borrow responsibly.
That, is banking on the right foot.
And I could not help but wonder if I were to bring the SHG idea into Singapore, what would it be?
In our context, I feel that the government's commitment would be key to the success of this idea. So instead of having a bank as the main organiser, it would be a government body supervising the project, with the partnership of a local bank.
Similar to India, the SHGs will be formed based on proximity, that is, an SHG is made up of people from the same neighbourhood, and filled with people who have similar experience in poverty.
Granted, I think most Singaporeans know how to save. But what I like from the SHG is the use of "social collateral" to push for savings, and this social collateral is what I think many of the poor in Singapore could have. With the way it is structured, the SHG becomes somewhat of a support-cum-pressure group, acting as a constant reminder they are not alone and that there are people walking the same road as them.
And I will take this further, and have an insurance company cover these SHGs with Group Health and Group Life Insurance. My aim here, is such that any one member's sudden medical emergency will not adversely affect the group as a whole, and to lower the premiums so that it is cheaper than any individual who buys it alone. Because we are talking about the poorest of the poor here in Singapore, government subsidies must also kick in quickly and efficiently when health emergencies arrive (which is why the state plays a big role in this adaptation).
The book also mentioned how the women took out uncollaterized loans from ICICI after they have proved their mettle to save to make improvements to their village. Since HDB estates are well-charted for development, there is no much need for such community projects. In that case, my idea for any surplus (meaning any amount left over after adequately covering for all emergencies) would be for small treats to every member's household, such as a top-up to their water and electricity supplies, another fan for each house, or bread and Milo for every family.
The cost of living and cost of business has made the government paramount to any effort to help the poorest group of people in Singapore. We don't have a vast market of untapped bottom of pyramid consumers that allows for an exponential growth of SHGs, something that ICICI has also stated is necessary for profits to be made. And we don't have goods or space that are cheap enough so that a small bank loan is enough to help someone start a small business and thereafter increase his income.
Singapore, has become too rich to afford that.
But now that we know the government's importance in helping the low-income people, can we be sure that the wards that did not vote for white-on-white would get the necessary assistance as well?
(Think: lift upgrading, communal space rental, People's Association, grassroots advisers)
Out of the many, well, superfluous, cases the book presented, and the idealistic tone the pages were soaked in, this case stood out to me as something practical and, now that I know the word, sustainable.
I used to think that any efforts in alleviating poverty necessitated donations and compassion. And while I found it a noble calling, I often had a nagging sense that charitable efforts were an end in itself, and from all perspectives, uncertain.
Forgive my naivety, for I was not more than a teenager when those thoughts first took root.
ICICI's story was what made me stop and reflect.
Central to their outreach efforts was this concept of Self-Help Groups (SHG). It is somewhat similar to the neighbourhood tontines Singapore used to have in the 80s, but with the additional backing and oversight of a bank. In these groups of 20, women were pooled together by the bank to contribute regular amounts to a group savings account. They had their own internal systems which pressured members' attendance at their monthly meetings, timely contribution to the savings account, and collectively decided on issues such as the allocation of funds to a certain member for pre-specified emergency needs.
Of course, the process carries much more complexity than the quick summary I have given. The amount of local knowledge needed to select suitable candidates for one is an aspect that cannot be easily captured in quick writing.
What sprung out to me in this endeavor is the bank's initiative to build a culture of saving in rural India. ICICI outlined this in 3 steps:
1. Learn to save.
2. Learn to lend what you have saved (referring to the SHG as a whole).
3. Learn to borrow responsibly.
That, is banking on the right foot.
And I could not help but wonder if I were to bring the SHG idea into Singapore, what would it be?
In our context, I feel that the government's commitment would be key to the success of this idea. So instead of having a bank as the main organiser, it would be a government body supervising the project, with the partnership of a local bank.
Similar to India, the SHGs will be formed based on proximity, that is, an SHG is made up of people from the same neighbourhood, and filled with people who have similar experience in poverty.
Granted, I think most Singaporeans know how to save. But what I like from the SHG is the use of "social collateral" to push for savings, and this social collateral is what I think many of the poor in Singapore could have. With the way it is structured, the SHG becomes somewhat of a support-cum-pressure group, acting as a constant reminder they are not alone and that there are people walking the same road as them.
And I will take this further, and have an insurance company cover these SHGs with Group Health and Group Life Insurance. My aim here, is such that any one member's sudden medical emergency will not adversely affect the group as a whole, and to lower the premiums so that it is cheaper than any individual who buys it alone. Because we are talking about the poorest of the poor here in Singapore, government subsidies must also kick in quickly and efficiently when health emergencies arrive (which is why the state plays a big role in this adaptation).
The book also mentioned how the women took out uncollaterized loans from ICICI after they have proved their mettle to save to make improvements to their village. Since HDB estates are well-charted for development, there is no much need for such community projects. In that case, my idea for any surplus (meaning any amount left over after adequately covering for all emergencies) would be for small treats to every member's household, such as a top-up to their water and electricity supplies, another fan for each house, or bread and Milo for every family.
The cost of living and cost of business has made the government paramount to any effort to help the poorest group of people in Singapore. We don't have a vast market of untapped bottom of pyramid consumers that allows for an exponential growth of SHGs, something that ICICI has also stated is necessary for profits to be made. And we don't have goods or space that are cheap enough so that a small bank loan is enough to help someone start a small business and thereafter increase his income.
Singapore, has become too rich to afford that.
But now that we know the government's importance in helping the low-income people, can we be sure that the wards that did not vote for white-on-white would get the necessary assistance as well?
(Think: lift upgrading, communal space rental, People's Association, grassroots advisers)
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Hebe's concert DVD
Hey people (if there are any out there), I accidentally got Hebe's concert DVD when I wanted to get her CD. Does anyone this perfect, brand new DVD for $20? It's 10% cheaper than what's out there and she did a pretty cool rendition of Jolin's 舞娘 in that concert.
Please please buy from me..
Monday, August 08, 2011
Salesgirls that give all things sales a bad name
You know, if there is one thing I seriously detest, it will be salesgirls who make their defective products out to be the very best.
The first (milder) case I met was at this Potpur shop in Wisma, where this girl tried to make me buy everything I glanced at even though I was looking for some office wear and she kept throwing me some ah lian party clothes. When I told her that what I thought she chose wasn't formal enough, I got that standard response of such assholes '不会！很多office girl 都喜欢！他们都讲可以穿去office!"
KNN. I know my office better or you and your oh-so-fake eyelashes and bumpy skin know my office better?
The second, outright cheating, case was by this woman at the shoe shop Pazzion in Marina Square.
I saw a pair of shoes, a very pretty beige in colour with wooden heels. Finally a viable alternative to my boring black heels and a better match to all my black dresses! BUT, strange.. This pair of pretty beige shoes had creases in one of its shoes that no other shoe of the same design had. So I took it to the salesgirl and asked for a new pair.
She cast a look at it and came back to me, saying the shoe is like that. And to prove her point, she wanted to take out a pair of the black version to show it to me. But when she took it out, she very quickly shoved it back into the box, and pretended (or so I interpreted) to be distracted by me saying that I already had the black ones.
So anyway after looking at the creases for moments longer, I decided it was simply unacceptable, and asked for a new pair. She very promptly replied me that there weren't anymore of them. Because they were new arrivals. How much more blatant could that lie be.
Then she very kindly offered to call up other outlets to ask if they had any, and sure enough, 5 minutes of talking on the phone later, assuming she did, she told me other outlets didn't have anymore of those shoes. Disappointed, I decided to take my leave. The crease was simply too eye-catching to me.
Just before I left, I asked her when will new stock arrive, and she told me in a really matter-of-fact way, that any more of the same design will only come in September to October, and that was really the last pair available.
Upon leaving the shop, Alvin googled for other Pazzion outlets in Singapore, and found one in Bugis. We went there, saw the same pair of pretty beige shoes, asked for my size and got one immediately. Perfect, smooth and beautiful.
That bitch seriously deserves to have her face slapped swollen!
Sunday, August 07, 2011
The shredder and me
I used to think that I had a sadistic streak in me that I wasn't afraid of showing. I love setting paper on fire, shredding my notes to oblivion, and tearing things up. The coward in me must commence those acts with only legal and legitimate reasons of course.
The other day, when I finally found the office shredder empty enough, I decided to take the liberty to shred away my waste paper for the day. But by the time I put in the second or third piece of ultra-confidential information, watching it quiver helplessly down the mouth of the mechanical shredder, I suddenly felt shy of my delight in episodes of destruction.
In the end, the remaining lot got deposited into the confidential waste bin, whole.
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Sunday, June 19, 2011
What's a Koala
From the penguins of Madagascar:
Skipper: Kowalski, explain a Koala
Kowalski: It eats only leaves, the female carries her baby in a pouch and sleeps all day
Skipper: Oh, a hippie.
Sunday, June 12, 2011
The troublesome siblings
I always get a kick out of sending unsolicited commission-seeking agents on a wild goose chase. So I always have some time for them no matter what, with the goal of wasting more of their time than mine.
Agent: Hi Miss, can I have 2 minutes of your time for a short survey?
Me: Sure.
Do you save first or spend first?
Save first.
May I know why do you save first?
Oh. Because cannot spend finish.
My brother, apparently, has the same attitude.
Hi Sir, can I have 2 minutes of your time for a short survey?
Ok.
Do you save first or spend first?
Save first.
May I know why do you save first?
Nothing to spend on.
Friday, June 10, 2011
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Letters between Lee Wei Ling and the late Mrs Lee deciphered (summary below)
Letter from Mrs Lee to Lee Wei Ling
My dear Ling,
Your letter of 14/11 arrived a few days ago.
We (Pa and Ma) were barely stirring, about to wake, when the SOs (security officers) put through your call. We were both glad to hear your voice. You sounded more like your usual self.
I was fearful you would be down and depressed and very vulnerable then to 'falling in love'. Papa always assures me that when he 'fell in love' with me, it was a very carefully considered decision.
He wanted someone intelligent so he could talk to her; someone healthy to bear healthy children, and someone tall and big because he wanted tall big children. The fact that I am two and a half years older than he is, was also carefully considered!
He did not discuss me with his parents, though he was very close to his mother. I hope you have inherited Papa's approach to this very important decision, and will not allow yourself to fall in love with the wong person, and that you will make as happy a choice as your father did.
Loong has brought Yipeng to Mount Elizabeth medical centre. Dr KCY, an ophthalmologist, arranged for a British specialist, Dr MR, to see Yipeng.
Dr MR did not tell us much that Loong did not already know. He examined Yipeng's eyes in a darkened room with an ophthalmoscope and made what Loong cynically described as 'comforting sounds'. He said that the pigment will probably develop when the child is between 12 and 15 years old, but he was just making a general statement, not forecasting anything for Yipeng.
We invited Loong to a poolside barbecue, and he said he would (come) and did bring Xiuqi to this second poolside barbecue. The first dinner must have been painful for him because it was less than a month before that he and Ming Yang were at a similar dinner, and at times, I saw his face drawn with pain and his eyes filled with tears.
The second dinner, he was a little more composed. He must and will get over it. But it's so painful.
Mary Thatcher (the widow of W.S. Thatcher, my father's former tutor at Fitzwilliam College, Cambridge University), to whom Loong had sent the two cards (one to announce Yipeng's birth and the other Ming Yang's death), wrote a letter to him and one to me.
She was very perceptive, and wrote that I must be grieving to see my son grieve, and that is true.
I don't want to make you sad, Ling, but I must get it off my chest. I went to see Dr LYK and Dr CBL for a thorough check because I still have heartache. They made me do the treadmill test and took some ultrasound pictures of my heart. They said everything was fine and I quite believe them, and know it is just psychological heartache.
Look after yourself and write home.
Love,
Mama
Letter from Lee Wei Ling in reply
Dear Pa, Ma & Family,
This past weekend was the first weekend since returning from Singapore when I did not have to carry my beeper, because my colleague is back from vacation.
Saturday was an exceptionally warm day. I went for a long walk at Mount Auburn Cemetery. I have walked there many times before, especially last fall and this past spring and summer. The last time I walked there I was depressed over failing the MRCP exam and anxious about trying the exam again.
I remember Ming Yang wrote me a comforting letter soon after I arrived back in Boston (after failing the first MRCP exam). This time Ming Yang is gone. I felt very, very sad as I walked in the cemetery.
But cemeteries always have a calming effect on me and put life in its correct perspective. When I see graves of whole families with members dying at all ages, from babyhood to their 90s, I remember what we all know but purposely try to forget: how transient and unpredictable life is.
Ma, if you could send me at least US$3,000, I want to open a 'First Rate Account'. I am enclosing a letter from the bank. You can see the conditions and let me know whether I am wise. I can start the account any time after 14/12/82. My current account is running low again because I have been buying quite a lot of books.
Ma, stop fretting about my falling for an American. I can't give any 100 per cent guarantees, but have always let reason override passion in this particular matter. Besides, I am not even sure I want ever to get married.
Love,
Ling
Summary
Mrs Lee to Lee Wei Ling: Girl, please don't anyhow fall in love.
Lee Wei Ling in reply: Yes Ma, I won't. Please send me $3,000. I'm broke.
My dear Ling,
Your letter of 14/11 arrived a few days ago.
We (Pa and Ma) were barely stirring, about to wake, when the SOs (security officers) put through your call. We were both glad to hear your voice. You sounded more like your usual self.
I was fearful you would be down and depressed and very vulnerable then to 'falling in love'. Papa always assures me that when he 'fell in love' with me, it was a very carefully considered decision.
He wanted someone intelligent so he could talk to her; someone healthy to bear healthy children, and someone tall and big because he wanted tall big children. The fact that I am two and a half years older than he is, was also carefully considered!
He did not discuss me with his parents, though he was very close to his mother. I hope you have inherited Papa's approach to this very important decision, and will not allow yourself to fall in love with the wong person, and that you will make as happy a choice as your father did.
Loong has brought Yipeng to Mount Elizabeth medical centre. Dr KCY, an ophthalmologist, arranged for a British specialist, Dr MR, to see Yipeng.
Dr MR did not tell us much that Loong did not already know. He examined Yipeng's eyes in a darkened room with an ophthalmoscope and made what Loong cynically described as 'comforting sounds'. He said that the pigment will probably develop when the child is between 12 and 15 years old, but he was just making a general statement, not forecasting anything for Yipeng.
We invited Loong to a poolside barbecue, and he said he would (come) and did bring Xiuqi to this second poolside barbecue. The first dinner must have been painful for him because it was less than a month before that he and Ming Yang were at a similar dinner, and at times, I saw his face drawn with pain and his eyes filled with tears.
The second dinner, he was a little more composed. He must and will get over it. But it's so painful.
Mary Thatcher (the widow of W.S. Thatcher, my father's former tutor at Fitzwilliam College, Cambridge University), to whom Loong had sent the two cards (one to announce Yipeng's birth and the other Ming Yang's death), wrote a letter to him and one to me.
She was very perceptive, and wrote that I must be grieving to see my son grieve, and that is true.
I don't want to make you sad, Ling, but I must get it off my chest. I went to see Dr LYK and Dr CBL for a thorough check because I still have heartache. They made me do the treadmill test and took some ultrasound pictures of my heart. They said everything was fine and I quite believe them, and know it is just psychological heartache.
Look after yourself and write home.
Love,
Mama
Letter from Lee Wei Ling in reply
Dear Pa, Ma & Family,
This past weekend was the first weekend since returning from Singapore when I did not have to carry my beeper, because my colleague is back from vacation.
Saturday was an exceptionally warm day. I went for a long walk at Mount Auburn Cemetery. I have walked there many times before, especially last fall and this past spring and summer. The last time I walked there I was depressed over failing the MRCP exam and anxious about trying the exam again.
I remember Ming Yang wrote me a comforting letter soon after I arrived back in Boston (after failing the first MRCP exam). This time Ming Yang is gone. I felt very, very sad as I walked in the cemetery.
But cemeteries always have a calming effect on me and put life in its correct perspective. When I see graves of whole families with members dying at all ages, from babyhood to their 90s, I remember what we all know but purposely try to forget: how transient and unpredictable life is.
Ma, if you could send me at least US$3,000, I want to open a 'First Rate Account'. I am enclosing a letter from the bank. You can see the conditions and let me know whether I am wise. I can start the account any time after 14/12/82. My current account is running low again because I have been buying quite a lot of books.
Ma, stop fretting about my falling for an American. I can't give any 100 per cent guarantees, but have always let reason override passion in this particular matter. Besides, I am not even sure I want ever to get married.
Love,
Ling
Summary
Mrs Lee to Lee Wei Ling: Girl, please don't anyhow fall in love.
Lee Wei Ling in reply: Yes Ma, I won't. Please send me $3,000. I'm broke.
Monday, April 18, 2011
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Oh. Dear me.
Reported in the Straits Times on 12 April 2011:
The events in Japan are unlikely to have a major impact on Singapore's economy this year... Likewise, while the events in the Arab world have led to a spike in oil prices recently, the overall impact on world economic growth is likely to be small...
...Moreover, some members of ... OPEC ... have made commitments to increase oil production ... As such ... the impact has been small...
... There are also signs the recovery in the advanced economies in gaining momentum, as indicated by recent improvements in the US labour market.
So is this to say that our world is not affected by monster natural disasters and spreading uprisings against governments, but the decisions of an oil cartel and a few Americans having jobs, or no jobs?????
The events in Japan are unlikely to have a major impact on Singapore's economy this year... Likewise, while the events in the Arab world have led to a spike in oil prices recently, the overall impact on world economic growth is likely to be small...
...Moreover, some members of ... OPEC ... have made commitments to increase oil production ... As such ... the impact has been small...
... There are also signs the recovery in the advanced economies in gaining momentum, as indicated by recent improvements in the US labour market.
So is this to say that our world is not affected by monster natural disasters and spreading uprisings against governments, but the decisions of an oil cartel and a few Americans having jobs, or no jobs?????
Thursday, April 07, 2011
A random bus journey
Yesterday when I was on the bus, I heard a man on the seat behind me answer a call. He responded calmly, occasionally acknowledging what was spoken from the other side of the line. Then he repeated what he heard to confirm his understanding of the news. He said "So ok, if she falls into a coma, you will not resuscitate her is it?"
My ears pricked up.
He continued to speak in the polite and understanding tone from the beginning of the conversation and maintained his voice when he said "Just one more question, why do you think that ICU is not good for her? ... This is quite a hard fact for me, you know." At the end of the phone call, he, again in his ever polite and pleasant tone, said "Ok thank you."
When I got off the bus, I stole a glance at the man who sat right behind me. His head was interspersed with strands of grey hair, and his face showed no sign of the distress he was under.
I alighted feeling I just shared a bus with a person made of courage.
My ears pricked up.
He continued to speak in the polite and understanding tone from the beginning of the conversation and maintained his voice when he said "Just one more question, why do you think that ICU is not good for her? ... This is quite a hard fact for me, you know." At the end of the phone call, he, again in his ever polite and pleasant tone, said "Ok thank you."
When I got off the bus, I stole a glance at the man who sat right behind me. His head was interspersed with strands of grey hair, and his face showed no sign of the distress he was under.
I alighted feeling I just shared a bus with a person made of courage.
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
The New Republic
I hereby announce the establishment of a New Republic.
In this New Republic, all adult citizens receive monthly allowances from the government, instead of salaries from their employment.
Labour costs for the businesses and corporations would be in the form of labour taxes and medical reimbursements.
Business owners and private investors would still receive income from their private investments and proprietorships or partnerships.
The mandate of this New Republic centers on healthy lifestyles and stress-free living. People go to work because they know it is good for them, to keep their minds working and bodies active. The atmosphere builds on encouragement and forgiveness, and people strive to surpass themselves and build a country that prides in its strong work ethics.
The allowances rise with a person's seniority in a company, but never fall below a comfortable level even when a person is unemployed.
Emphasis is put on a person's achievement and reputation, with the education system teaching children to take after role models featured in the newspapers. Lifelong learning is a common passion, and children are taught from young the possibilities in their hands from matters as trivial as their love for video games.
Oh what a wonderful world that is!
In this New Republic, all adult citizens receive monthly allowances from the government, instead of salaries from their employment.
Labour costs for the businesses and corporations would be in the form of labour taxes and medical reimbursements.
Business owners and private investors would still receive income from their private investments and proprietorships or partnerships.
The mandate of this New Republic centers on healthy lifestyles and stress-free living. People go to work because they know it is good for them, to keep their minds working and bodies active. The atmosphere builds on encouragement and forgiveness, and people strive to surpass themselves and build a country that prides in its strong work ethics.
The allowances rise with a person's seniority in a company, but never fall below a comfortable level even when a person is unemployed.
Emphasis is put on a person's achievement and reputation, with the education system teaching children to take after role models featured in the newspapers. Lifelong learning is a common passion, and children are taught from young the possibilities in their hands from matters as trivial as their love for video games.
Oh what a wonderful world that is!
Saturday, March 12, 2011
Singapore society
Today I learnt that
- my mum's friend's sister is SR Nathan's neighbour
- my mum's friend and husband are close friends with Lee Hsien Loong, and their kids used to play together when they were young
- each kid had one bodyguard and the whole group had another one or two more bodyguards
- Ong Teng Cheong is somehow related to Lee Kwan Yew who is somehow related to Wee Kim Wee through a series of marriages, re-marriages, cousins multiple times removes and just pure blood relations
- my mum's friend is the personal assistant of Steven Riady, and she personally met his father Mochtar Riady when she was my age
- the psychologist Danny Ng who came to guest speak at NJC once at a talk I supposedly hosted was my mother's close friend. He calls her Da Jie.
- my mother's friend's neighbour is famous lawyer Subhas Anandan
Hehe I suddenly feel so close to the upper echelons of the Singapore society.
- my mum's friend's sister is SR Nathan's neighbour
- my mum's friend and husband are close friends with Lee Hsien Loong, and their kids used to play together when they were young
- each kid had one bodyguard and the whole group had another one or two more bodyguards
- Ong Teng Cheong is somehow related to Lee Kwan Yew who is somehow related to Wee Kim Wee through a series of marriages, re-marriages, cousins multiple times removes and just pure blood relations
- my mum's friend is the personal assistant of Steven Riady, and she personally met his father Mochtar Riady when she was my age
- the psychologist Danny Ng who came to guest speak at NJC once at a talk I supposedly hosted was my mother's close friend. He calls her Da Jie.
- my mother's friend's neighbour is famous lawyer Subhas Anandan
Hehe I suddenly feel so close to the upper echelons of the Singapore society.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
The Internet empowers the young. For the better?
This opinion is inspired by the wave of protests across North Africa and Middle East, and a spot of it in China.
What these countries have in common are extremely popular social networking sites among young people, and a lot of unemployment or hardships in those age bands.
With the speed of technological advances nowadays, the penetration of the Internet into our lives, and the open online environment, do you think it's possible that technology shifts power into the hands of the young (and away from the old)?
I feel that the youngest generations will always be the ones most adept at the newest internet/IT technologies, simply because such technologies enter their lives earlier than everyone else and smaller, faster, better becomes integrated into their worldview before their worldviews are fixed.
And these technologies vest in them a method of communication apart and away from the older generations who are used to and more comfortable with technologies part of their older worldviews. That is, those technologies that came in earlier in their lives. Like for most of us, Friendster was a huge thing, then came Facebook and then Twitter. But for kids in secondary school now, Friendster is an urban myth, while Facebook and Twitter are two essentials in their communication mix. And their activity on Facebook and Twitter are different in styles from our activity on Facebook and Twitter.
And because these technologies are so connected, it is easy to form a certain wavelength amongst these younger users that do not resonate with older users. So when the vast majority of younger users are affected by similar experiences, their voices and complaints reverberate very quickly among the young, while the effect is greatly dampened among the older ones.
But is this a good phenomenon? Sure it gives a voice to the those repressed, and an alternative media for the young and powerless. But the characteristics of these people also mean that they are inexperienced, less mature and are more attuned with the effects of stuff rather than the causes.
And they are so dispersed! When it comes to arrow pointing and directed action, who do people turn to? The owners of traditional media and power, because these people are concentrated and identifiable, when trouble in fact brews from another source. So what happens is that peace only comes when the people in power cede to the requests of the protestors.
All is well and good if the final results are increased prosperity for all. But I'm not certain if change brought this way is at all better, even for the very people who demanded the change in the first place, given the higher likelihood of their immaturity and inexperience. Like I do not see how sensible people would rape a foreign journalist while celebrating the victory of their cause. What the hell.
Then what happens when the older generations need change? How do they counter the scattered and ubiquitous voices of the young when they have no accessible communication technology more effective than the younger generation? We face the possibilities of a new neglected class.
They raped in celebration
What the hell. I will never, ever understand these people. Savages!
ps. I know it's a bit late. But still, the wave of protests has not ended.
ps. I know it's a bit late. But still, the wave of protests has not ended.
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
English hates all things good
I distinctively remember when I was a kid, and I was trying to tell my dad that something smelt nice, all I could muster out of my limited vocabulary was "nice smell". But if I were to say it stunk, I had a lot of words for it. Smelly, yucky, gross. And they came to mind fast enough. Dad later taught me the opposite of smelly was fragrant. In my young mind, I thought "What a difficult word that was!"
And then I realised that opposite of good is bad, and the opposite of naughty is... hm. good? Come primary five, my teacher taught us the word amiable. I had absolutely no idea what it meant, but she said it meant something good. And then there were more words like amicable, affable, benign, cordial that popped up sometime in my life or other, all of which, essentially meant nice. Kind, as well.
However, the opposites of kind and nice were already etched earlier in my mind. Really because, these words were shorter, catchier and simply easier to remember; mean, stingy, evil, selfish, ugly, hehe.. bad!
And truth be told, saying "I don't like you" was always easier than "I like you". You get to add more expression for the former too.
Therefore, after 23 years of speaking English, I give the grand conclusion that *pause* the English language *pause* prefers *pause* the lousier side of man *ta-dah!*.
And then I realised that opposite of good is bad, and the opposite of naughty is... hm. good? Come primary five, my teacher taught us the word amiable. I had absolutely no idea what it meant, but she said it meant something good. And then there were more words like amicable, affable, benign, cordial that popped up sometime in my life or other, all of which, essentially meant nice. Kind, as well.
However, the opposites of kind and nice were already etched earlier in my mind. Really because, these words were shorter, catchier and simply easier to remember; mean, stingy, evil, selfish, ugly, hehe.. bad!
And truth be told, saying "I don't like you" was always easier than "I like you". You get to add more expression for the former too.
Therefore, after 23 years of speaking English, I give the grand conclusion that *pause* the English language *pause* prefers *pause* the lousier side of man *ta-dah!*.
Monday, January 31, 2011
2 minutes in my wondrous mind
Do I need to check on my smurfs?
Oh, no need. Tomatoes take 8 hours.
8 hours is such a long time, no wonder people complain of working long hours.
Can I not work? Can I be in the business of buying?
I'll have to wear heels to look professional.
Unless I go to the beach.
If someone sees me in flats at the beach, that person will comment that I'm not wearing heels.
I'll reply that I'm not forever in heels.
Like that lady in the show. When people hear the sound of her heels, they all quiver with fear.
And there's her love interest, the policeman.
Who has a bad boss, who turned good in the end.
It's such an amazing show isn't it? We all hated him when he was bad, but pitied him when he turned good.
He died trying to assassinate the Japanese colonel.
Because the Japanese killed his wife and unborn child.
That's how iron fisted (?) governments act when they are threatened by attacking forces right? They kill off all prisoners hastily.
Like how the Khmer Rouge did it at Tuol Sleng when the Vietnamese attacked Cambodia; they hastily killed 9 VIP prisoners by cutting their throats.
War. Japanese Occupation. Singapore.
Our war hero, Lim Bo Seng.
Oh, did you know my mother's boss is Lim Bo Seng's nephew?
Oh, no need. Tomatoes take 8 hours.
8 hours is such a long time, no wonder people complain of working long hours.
Can I not work? Can I be in the business of buying?
I'll have to wear heels to look professional.
Unless I go to the beach.
If someone sees me in flats at the beach, that person will comment that I'm not wearing heels.
I'll reply that I'm not forever in heels.
Like that lady in the show. When people hear the sound of her heels, they all quiver with fear.
And there's her love interest, the policeman.
Who has a bad boss, who turned good in the end.
It's such an amazing show isn't it? We all hated him when he was bad, but pitied him when he turned good.
He died trying to assassinate the Japanese colonel.
Because the Japanese killed his wife and unborn child.
That's how iron fisted (?) governments act when they are threatened by attacking forces right? They kill off all prisoners hastily.
Like how the Khmer Rouge did it at Tuol Sleng when the Vietnamese attacked Cambodia; they hastily killed 9 VIP prisoners by cutting their throats.
War. Japanese Occupation. Singapore.
Our war hero, Lim Bo Seng.
Oh, did you know my mother's boss is Lim Bo Seng's nephew?
Sunday, January 09, 2011
Why Cambodia would want to remain poor
This time back to Cambodia, I saw a lot more. Maybe because I could, maybe because I bothered to. As we were travelling down a wide road back to the hotel, he told us that the road was given by the Americans, but the Cambodian government built a toll station across it and used it to collect money. And then later on, he showed us a police officer letting a person go after collecting a small administration fee. Earlier in the day we rode pass the prime minister's house. What a magnificent house it was! Two huge houses side by side, with a one-story high chandelier in plain sight. The kind that even a house owner on Bukit Timah would clamour to have.
Doesn't it make sense now that Cambodia would want to remain poor?
As long as they suppress the progress of their country, foreign aid would keep pouring in. As long as they remain a third-world country, the country's infrastructure would be built by international coffers. In other words, as long as Cambodia remains poor, the country would continue to be developed by other countries, while the government gets to fill their pockets from taxes the development projects provide, and they get to protect their own reserves for their own luxuries! That's killing an entire flock of birds with 1 stone. Amazing, isn't it?
This corrupted government must be removed.
Doesn't it make sense now that Cambodia would want to remain poor?
As long as they suppress the progress of their country, foreign aid would keep pouring in. As long as they remain a third-world country, the country's infrastructure would be built by international coffers. In other words, as long as Cambodia remains poor, the country would continue to be developed by other countries, while the government gets to fill their pockets from taxes the development projects provide, and they get to protect their own reserves for their own luxuries! That's killing an entire flock of birds with 1 stone. Amazing, isn't it?
This corrupted government must be removed.
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