What I did Today

what i did today - 10/30/2001
Diary entries tend to be mundane when they chronologically list down what a person does in a day - at least that's what I think ... so i've never tried an entry that works chronologically - but here's an attempt:
0530 - Ring - alarm - shoot I have a stupid neck ache.
0545 - wake Ms Tan up after I'm done changing - she's actually been up since 0245 because of the rain. I potter downstairs first ...
0550 - Horrors. The floor of the dining room and kitchen is flooded. There are actually puddles of water that I have to swish through. The last time something like this happened, I was in secondary school and the house wasn't renovated yet ...
0600 - after ten minutes of ineffectually swishing water around (it's even gotten into the weights room), Ma comes down and exclaims at the sight "Wah so wet ..."
0601 - lift up the weights to clear out the carpet that is thoroughly soaked to the back ... make a mental note to exercise because the weights feel much heavier than when I last lifted them ...
0615 - race bus number 105 (in Ma's car) so that Ms Tan can get on it. Quite exciting - neck and neck at the red light but smaller bodies accelerate faster and we sneak into the bus bay before it ...
0625 - arrive in school - to see DL solitary in the carpark and still in his car.
0630 - sit down at my desk
0632 - Mr C maintains his record of being the first person to say hello to me everyday. Start reading book.
0640 - Mr C gives me an extra copy of the Hammer that he bought from a WP rally
0715 - Mrs K informs me that 14 Nov is Depavali and we can't hold the writing workshop on that day ... and that the 15 & 16, my alternate dates are possibly no good bec. of SEM meetings. Says she will check with VP about me being around during SEM meetings ...
0720 - Slouch outside to sing Marikita - don't sing because too disillusioned by singapore politics
0730 - Slouch back into the staffroom...
0735 - Mrs K says it's no good - I need to be around bec I'm in the SEM Comm. I make a weak protest that everyone won't be able to meet the deadline anyway and so the meeting will probably be pushed back ... even Mrs K objects to how lousy an argument it is ... I am pissed (slightly ...) because now need to make major readjustments of the workshop date.
0740 - after frantic SMSing and calls, A says Cat High is ok with the new dates (21 -22 Nov) and all systems are go !!!
0745 - determined to be busy so go into the TRC to type stuff. Inform Mrs K that the new dates are 21-22 Nov and ask her to tell the lower sec during their lifeskills ...
Manage to
a) write an email to a supplier of CD ROMs to come to school to do a preview
b)find out who the email addresses of the HODs of PJC and RJC
c)unsuccesfully try to log on to the Commenwealth Sec School site
d)key in 120 names for the sec 1s who gained distinctions for Intl com for Schools ...
d)type a letter to P of Cat High about Writing workshop ...
Brings me up to about 0920
0921 - Scout around staff room for someone to have a drink with - OTC just got back so she's out ... decide it can wait ...
0930 - try to mark extra compre and compo - which I now realise that I haven't finished and haven't put in my pigeon hole and that the kid will want it tomorrow after his pract - hiya - now i'll need to go in early to finish it before invigilation ...
1000 - punch holes and file away duplicates of results while looking at PSLE scores at the same time ...
1030 - go to canteen and ta bao two soon kueh - eat and read book
1040 - go to Com Lab 2 with OTC to prove that the online survey really works. Manage to complete one and submit without any probs ... WHY DOESN'T IT WORK WHEN THE KIDS DO IT - maybe too many at one time is the suggestion - them the kids should be allowed to do it at home ... apparently we can't trust them ...
1100 - finally decide to edit the WITs project for Oral English - only two teachers from the department have handed in although they were due yesterday (make a mental note that none of the senior teachers have handed in ...) and go into TRC to sort out the passages. Essentially we're writing out model "pix description" passages and trying to identify certain things to help the kids ... give an overview of the submitted passages ... and decide I better start on my own. Manage to finish one in about 15 mins - and reflect on how ridiculous it is given that the kids are supposed to prepare in less than 10 minutes ... but explain it away by telling myself that the effort is in making it relevant and appropriate to the level of the kids ... the dumbing down takes time ...
1120 - so finally start editing the submissions - sigh - too cheem and too simple - should I just leave it or should I make the changes ... I toy around with the font and highlights ... finally make some changes ... WHY DID I VOLUNTEER TO COLLATE?

what i did today 2 - 10/30/2001
1200 - decide to go and eat. Scout the canteen and realise it's not people I can have a decent conversation with (older CL teachers and Mrs L) sitting at the blue benches - so make do with sitting near the Muslim stall and eat rice with
a. Yummy drumstick
b.lady's fingers
c. fried egg without sauce
1215 - walk back to staffroom - say "hi" to kids at the benches - apparently some kind of harrassment over a wallet is taking place
1300 - accompany mr C to the canteen for a coffee before the long long long staff meeting. Talk about Chee Soon Juan a while and the PAP machinery. Drink Nescafe.
1330 - get ready for staff meeting
1340 - make sure I bring book for staff meeting
1341 - Have my longest comversation yet with M. She tells me that her kids are coming for the workshop and I state how I am pleasantly surprised by the overwelming response (by my standards, being used to Sec 4s who would never come for something like that - on the pretext of being too busy - ... and would find a new use for the form, 2 minutes after getting it ... "you need rough paper ...?") from the lower Sec. Already 16 out of 32 have indicated they want to come - which is more that I can take in ... and it isn't even the due date yet ...
1400 - staff meeting - read one chapter from the book during long debate about the wordings of the school vision: feel bad but hey - only five people are really interested. As always - the long discussion is just long discussion.
1600 - nearing the end of the meeting - wake up when Mrs K mentions that tomorrow's IRP slot will be used for IRP surveys ... am mildly pissed ... why bother telling me to put the survey on-line? Just because the technology doesn't work then we revert back to paper ... Actually happened already for the sec 3s so am not very surprised. We should just state for the record that the tech support is lousy and not waste time, esp. after converting and re-converting the survey so it would work on-line ... People take it for granted that it's a simple thing to do - but hey - it ain't that easy to figure out and it's labourious when you have to type our "Strongly Agree" "Agree" "Disagree" Strongly Disagree" over and over and over bec. the system is too primitive to do quick duplication ...
1630 - Meeting (finally) ends and apart from some M&Ms and laughs courtesy of LK and SO, nothing productive.
1630 - work on Arts Fest proposal with OTC while she toils away at her budget ... am excited about having a week for busking ... (fingers crossed)
1730 - leave for home
1800 - reach home, bathe and
1930 - have been ODing and emailing for the last hour or so ...
2015 - will leave to pick Ms Tan up from ballet then dinner ...

If All that you leave Behind

If All that you leave Behind

10/26/2001

are memories and "fond" wishes for the future - that what we've behind is merely a wisp, a shadow, a fleeting moment where glances meet.

But all that you've left behind -

We remember "firsts" not only because they were an exciting new experience, but because they opened up a whole new world. I remember the the first time I held somebody's hand in a meaningful way - 'twas on a cold night in a warm theatre in moscow - it was supposed to be some cultural exchange thing - but hey - it was warm and cosy. I remember the first time I kissed Ms Tan - it was at Changi Airport and we were sitting in some sending off area - just hanging out to see someone else off the next morning ...

And I will remember, with the formal graduation of the sec 4s, several firsts.

Will remember 4B as the first class that responded and was enthusiastic about lessons. I think they were the first sec 3 EL class I stepped into and right from the first lesson, they were very enthusiastic. I've never had to really squeeze them for a response and even when they were very tired and bored with Compres, they would try to respond. It was also a class that "got" what I said. You know - could see the recognition in their eyes. So I'll remember them.

Will remember 4C as my "first Lit class". I know that there is 4L, but 4C was really the class that I felt gave some of them gave themselves to the subject and really put in a lot. Glad it ended wonderfully - and not on a note of "i-hate-lit-and-never-want-to-read-a-book-again-even-if-it's-the-road-directory".

Will remember 4L as my first class of miracles. I'll never cease to be amazed by the way some of the kids made such a dramatic turn around in Lit when they came up to Sec 4. By the end of sec 3 I thought that Lit was a wash out for them - but they proved me wrong. Some of them have turned out to be really quite wonderful at Lit and very fun to talk with as well. I think the greatest compliment to 4L (in terms of lit) was the fact that Mrs Blaw was pleasantly surprised at the high-quality of some of the work.

Will remember 4M as my first pai kiah/whole life in trouble/rowdy/often disrespectful/never do homework/never do classwork/always searching bag for work that "I did at home ... just forgot to bring"/let's laugh so that we don't have to listen to him class. All the moanings about the class, all the heartaches about the class. I will remember them as a class that first intimidated then turned out to be quite "fun" and yet really irritating at times. A class where you had to continually think of ways to motivate and educate, where the unpredictable could happen. I think the way some of them have become very sensible in spite of all the fun-lovingness, is heart-warming.

Will finally, remember 4K as my darlings - my first form class. Actually quite sad that we didn't have at least some of sec 3 together. All the horsing around and corny jokes, the Fs for cleanliness, the pseudo uniform checks (I was checking fingernails for colour until our indomitable classchairperson pointed out I should be checking for length) the outbursts of irrelevance, the FOOD, the messing up of my house, the talks in the canteen, the moments of silence, the GUYS, the Girl Power, the Auntys, the individuals.

I will remember SA for her hair that never stays down - and her strange toothy grin and impish look. I will remember LJ for always managing to look sleepy and for somehow still being smart, QY for being so cheapskate and a man of principles no less, GK for his continual self-sacrifice and ability to absorb insults, MF for being so unassuming and responsible and hardworking and sensible, J for talking non-stop and being the first person to always point out something wrong with what I say, MD for being such SNAG, YY for her nonchalance and daring to be different, HL for her wonderfully irrelevant and occassionally insightful comments, XH for being always so proper and polite and accurate, E for chuckling to herslf, writing neatly and being short, WJ for always smiling so sweetly and being so sincere about everything, SY for asking questions quietly, K for asking questions loudly (good thing too ...), QY for the quizzical smile that shades her face, JH for the pats on the shoulder and interesting points of view, D for never speaking loudly but always intelligently, DH for being such a focussed and never say die individual, B for one single conversation next to an ice cream stall one afternoon, SW for her wonderful smile (after a while I always looked to her first whenever i consciously made a joke bec. if she smiles, I know it's not lousy humour), PY for believing in things, K for daring to be different and for having a voice, SW for being so sensible about work and yet so whacky with friends, AL for having bigger pects than me, SY for being such a quiet and consistent worker (and for asking me very direct and focussed questions once in the library), AH for being expressive, MS for being so strong, DL for short hair and being determined, Z for acting blur and never knowing when to stop, QF for saying Hi early in the morning and being cool, WM for making a great comeback and for never being fazed, V for being in Lala land yet always writing so well, F for long talks and for listening, and HY for irrepressible enthusiasm, holding it all together and being so cheery everyday (with "err got two absent ... but later then I tell you who they are ...)

In my ending is my beginning. I know I have become friends with some of the kids. It's not just a teacher-student "can you give me more marks relationship" and now that they're formally done with school, really hope that will continue to be friends and continue to hang around in their lives (not as a spectre, but as ... well ... a friend). So, without manufactured emotion, I say a thank you and goodbye, knowing that while some I will grow to know better even after they've left school, for others, today was the last time I'd see them.

A Kind of Blue

A Kind of Blue

10/25/2001

This alleged 3rd section of my conceptual book of poems (entirely hypothetical and even then unpublished ...) takes its title from a jazz album by Miles Davis. In these pieces, the issue of a loose poetic form and its benefits/constraints is raised. Every poem has a form - whether it's the length of the breath taken to read a line, or the space between words - and it's really how recognisable or "functional" a form is.

Repetition

The difficulties of living in
the moment consumed
her. Squirming on the hard
plastic, she flicked her pen,
twirling through
finger finger finger.

Sitting distracted, she thought
of another fantasy
to sew time up.

Monotone drone.
His voice went on.
"Focus. What are you doing? Why are you taking so long?"

twirling sounds -
"For us, life will be swooning
By, crooning it's song."

His voice insisted.
"half an hour you've only done two?"

a persistent daydream
"april showers will bring me to you?"

The poem was a result of a long afternoon in the canteen with a student who was supposed to be doing homework. The idea is that the repetition of homework is itself mundane and the student gets distracted, not so much with the happenings in a very noisy canteen but in her mind. The formal idea comes late in the poem: the first voice says something very pragmatic but the student's voice takes that and transforms it into something else while retaining the syllabic and rhythmic structure. This was difficult to do meaningfully and I kind of gave up after two. After you've read this commentary of sorts, the poem makes more sense I think.

Coffee Sips 2

Coffee Sips 2

10/24/2001

This next poem was written after I'd finished reading a book called "Ahab's Wife". It's a take on Moby Dick - that seminal book of America. Reading Moby Dick is supposed to be a defining moment in any Lit student's life and dealing with the after effects takes a lifetime. So here was an attempt to think about America, coffee and haikus: Prologue (moby dick* was often sighted off the coast of Japan sailing to get him wasn't just a matter of coming off the west coast of America cause ships were based in Nantucket, on the east coast. Effectively, you had to get "around" the Americas before you had a chance at moby dick. ) By what means has America crossed (not upon whaler but commerce) itself and ended up this side of the Pacific? place cleverly named after the Puritan who rode as number 2 aboard Pequod's ill fated spars. Leaving Mary: 'Sconset**, poor, alone. No traces here of puritanical insistence "come choose what you want." First mate downs coffee neat : add anything, it's sin. I drink, she drinks; we Drinking the dregs of commerce mixed up in myth: Aye! Ahab^ drinks to that! *-name of the white whale and book - meant to be allusive in all senses **-off Nantucket on the eastern seaboard of the US ^-the faustian "hero" of Moby Dick whose ambition is to kill the white whale Form has a place in poetry. This one tries out the haiku in each stanza. While haiku is merely syllabic and supposed to be self-contained, writing haiku stanzas doesn't force you to make the revelation by the third line and you can stretch it off a little. If heirachy in discovery is important, then the haiku stanza might work with its odd numbered line form rather than the clear call and reponse of the couplet or other interlocking forms. In terms of what the poem says, significant background knowledge is required to understanding the poem. Moby Dick is required, a sense of the US's post WW II interest in the vaibility of Japan (therefore the haiku form) and SEA as a capitalist bastion against communism also helps.

An interlude: Instead of poetry ...

An interlude: Instead of poetry ...

10/23/2001

I shall wonder about politics.

Am only theorectically involved in politics - never really seen myself as ever genuinely involved. It is a dirty and ruthless game and I can't even survive staff-room politics - so how to even be involved in politics? With the General Election and all - surely there is some form of comment? Not when you're in sterile sanitised singapore.

When I was growing up, in the 1980s, I was into politics. From when JBJ won the Anson by-election in 1984 (I was in Pri 4) I was enchanted by eloquence and the kinds of verbal battles that took place in Parliament. Of course in those days I was all for the governing party - I would laugh at the put-downs and the rebuffs by the then PM and marvel at JBJ's sideburns. I was quite into these things in the 1991 elections also, after school I would go listen to the rallies. Remember some very good opposition speakers. Anyway - never doubted that the government was in good hands. It still is - but surely there's an alternative.

I think the alternative is in voices. We live under the illusion that there is only one way to do something and that only one person/party has the right answer. It's a fallacy of history, a constructed fallacy. We have made so many mistakes as a nation but have continued to sweep the mistakes under the carpet. so - even a homogenous ruling party with all the best and the brightest can make mistakes. In the meantime, we've developed a myth that IF we have an opposition, the prosperity of the nation will self-destruct. Wrong. We may take more time to make certain decisions but at least there will be a heightened interest in the decision and in the process. We will think more and evaluation positions more independantly.

I suppose my disenchantment with the system came when I was in NS and found myself marginalised by a system of rules that were mindlessly followed so-that-we-don't-get-into-trouble. I was a model soldier for 8 months - going through BMT and OCS without a squeak. Until an incident that involved a loss of a signal flare (costing $3.90) - which to cut a long story short had been stolen. Anyway - the long and short of it - everyone agreed that the flare had been stolen but someone had to take the punishment - that was me. I was actually quite prepared for it because I had been silly enough to allow the flare to be stolen (yes you must always be suspicious of you own platoon mates ... and mustsn't leave things in their care ...) but on the long RPL ride back out of Temburong (6hrs in the sun) I realised that it wasn't my fault, my choice or even my crime. It was the system that HAD to blame someone. As a result I went AWOL and was diagnosed as "clinically depressed". This was another circus as psychiatrists consistently asked me irritating questions. Angered by this, I guess I've come to realise that even the best and most stringent of systems, in the quest for effficency, cannot accomodate.

So I guess I'm in this strange position. With a PSC bond to finish out - I'm supposed to be part of the ESTABLISHMENT - yet having seen the Woodbridge from the inside, I am highly aware of how a system that seems to be so oiled and perfect has its flaws. Flaws because of a culture of non-dissent, of self-censorship, of a rigid insistence that authority is right always.

The good flip-side of this realisation? 1. I turned to and have become very dependant on God. 2. I suppose I do try to OPEN the eyes of people who I come into contact with by providing alternative viewpoints.

Read the papers - and try to think alternatively. If you are accused of being a radical and of trying to brain-wash others - don't worry - it is precisely because we are already so controlled in the ways we think - that we need a violent mental opposition to regain some sense of balance and perspective. People have commented that I am extreme in some of the opinions I hold about things - I guess personal experience and the lives of friends (who have compromised on their beliefs...)has led me to be vocal - and not always constructive. I recognise this - though I hasten to add that unlike the ruling party I believe that not all criticism has to be constructive ... in fact ... non-constructive, plain critiques have an important role in broadening ideas and options. We live under a myth that everything has to be rationalised and "constructive" (which is usually another word for can be contained within the status quo).

I have often sought refuge in language and literature - but I guess at moments like these - the need to critique spills over.

Pertinent Motivations:

Just started "A Comet in the Sky" - a historical re-assessment of Lim Chin Siong - offers many marginalised perspectives about this founding member of the ruling party - whose dedication and vision for singapore was brutally (spent many years in prison and then in exile as a political enemy) cut short by the ambitions of others ...

Also had a quick read of the newspapers and was appalled by the extreme bias of layout and presentation:
1. Opposition Candidates are NOT placed in colour - vs. the ruling party - this is true of even the header of the page
2. Articles on the Opposition are sandwiched between a.the new faces of the ruling party and b. some important minister refuting what has just been reported about the opposition's policies.
3. The daily here are the new faces of the ruling party is very consistent and provides bulletted summaries and nice quotable quotes
4. The articles on the opposition all occuy one page, without any Adverts (impt) and without clear distinction (in layout) of the various parties. the point on Adverts is important as Adverts create space on a page by providing an alternative kind of genre for eyes to linger on ... also Adverts denote the value of what's on a page ... since it's space that's paid for - ie no one wants to advertise on a page that reports opposition ...

And this is merely stylistic - have not mentioned the journalistic bias ...

I guess politics is a dirty game played by ruthless people - sadly they are also men who have distinguished themselves in society, men who genuinely believe what they are doing is right.

That's why I teach.

Coffee Sips

Coffee Sips

10/22/2001

This comes from a another section of the poems I've been writing. I pretend they actually fall into sections because if ever i put them in a book they'll work this way. Anyway - note the "clever" rhyme (enough of the Lit Poser stuff already ...): "Language Slips" and now "Coffee Sips".

Anyway, this section is based on a desire to write a concrete kind of poetry. Based on experience and observation rather than abstractions and ideas merely. So since I spend lots of time at coffee places, I deceided one evening in June at Starbucks' Orchard Parade Hotel, to write coffee poems. Obviously this immediately belittles the poetry: where is your grand subject? Writing in spite of the repetition and commercialism of coffee places is the challenge.

I was waiting for Ms Tan then and it was hot plus stuffy ...

A Kind of Hipness

A kind of hipness
is found sitting alone -
watching your own
impressions of aproned
baristas spin a yarn
in downtime coffee
world.

in all the concrete
spaces i sit at and
sip, i haven't said hello
to happy people
waiting alone. Cause
that would spoil
the silent mantra
chanted by glassy
eyed gazes.

Satuarated with
coffee gloss, staring
listlessly before our
kind of hipness sets in,
we sing

"the song of
black eyed susie*".

* - a black eyed susie is a variety of geberra that has completely white petals but a black centre. I remember this because Ms Tan explicitly wanted these for table decorations for our wedding dinner - but somehow these were not available. The image is of a single shot expresso - concentrated, dark, in a white cup.

A poem about waiting and watching and trying not get involved. The relationships are hung out in restlessness: no one speaks. Except the coffee people who are supposed to be working. Everyone is cued into their own cup of coffee, as a convenient distraction, as a convenient accessory for "a kind of hipness".

Language Slips 2

This poem was written after a long staff meeting with the old man holding forth on why the school cannot "take a break" and must keep working "much more harder". While this is a common langauge slip, the idea of the poem is that the wrong word used actually points at a very narrow way of perceiving success.

"We must work much
more harder so that
we can maintain our
results."
hard harder ...
is there any word
to stand between -er
and -est?
What began as a cynical sneer
at the old man's remarks
transformed itself into a query
good, better, more better
much more better
we learnt -est as a destination
it meant you had finished
and could start a
new series of chants:
small, smaller, smallest
big, bigger, biggest
soft, softer, softest
later, made aware of the
frailties of a small
citystate
we learnt
-est as a destination
that secured survival :
"ours is the busiest port in the world"
"ours is the cleanest & greenest in SouthEastAsia..."
then creeps in,
via anxiety filled analogy
"what if you can't be the best?"
"more better" fills the void
then it becomes strategy:
in a world of misused expressions
why not make some of them useful?
after all
"good better best
never let it rest
let your good be better
and your better best"
if -est is a state of completion
we have no place for it.
So we dream of our more brighter
tommorrows
marvel at our more taller skyscrapers and laugh at more
funnier sitcoms.
We pray a blessing against the curse of contentment:
"Consumatum est?*"
no,never.

* - Latin for the words of Christ on the cross " It is finished" - probably can't put it into a question - but i claim poetic licence.

The poem works through a slip. It also weaves together fragments of memory. I remember the Productivity campaign of the early 80s with Teamy the Bee. Why did a campaign aimed at the adult workforce have such a ridiculous "good better best" song? Why did it have a Bee mascot? Was it really meant for more than just the workforce, was it to generate a sense of continuous achievement in even the young. The poem pretends that the policy of misusing language is deliberate: poking fun at how common the language slip is and the fact that pragmatic Singapore lets it go by unnoticed.

Marmadukems

Lady Marmalade - 10/4/2001
Is more than the title of a song that is hip and naughty. It was to be the name of MY NEW CAT. That's right! Mittens is going to have to live with a little Kitten. Only it's not going to be called Lady Marmalade - because it turns out he is a boy.
He's downstairs now sneaking around underneath the sofa - and he's called Marmaduke.
anyway - Mittens is being a her proud stand offish self and doesn't want to go down to be friendly - I suspect she's gonna be like that for a long time. Well if I had the run of the house for 5 years and suddenly there's this spritely yooung thing running about I'd be pretty upset too. So I must remember to be nice to Mittens - she is after all my three-legged darling.
Marmaduke - is ginger has a lovely pink nose and looks very smart. He's friendly enough, though I think my sister's high pitched voice scared him a bit just now. will go and see if he's come out from under the sofa.

Language Slips 1

Language Slips 1

10/19/2001

I will write for a period in abstraction. For I want to see how much I can say and make known without being overt. The bulk of these entries will be the poems I've written over the course of the last 5-6 months on my PDA.

PDA poetry is significant for me because
1. While I've written for many years, it's often not kept - ie I write on scraps and throw them away.
2. I often write poems in letters and notes to people without retaining a copy for myself.

With the PDA, I've managed to amass a body of work and continually go back to it. Don't ask why I never wrote in a notebook - too lazy or never thought highly enough of the quality of the thought to start a book.

Anyway ... This is a poem that cames from a section called "Language Slips"

keeper of lost obsessions

She dubbed me
"mr lim, the keeper of lost
obsessions"
not quite sure what she meant,
i asked,

"when someone lost something
they come and find you what ..." she said with a shrug

"lost possessions you mean"

but i liked the title
"keeper of lost obsessions" better.
So i squirrelled it away
in a poem
hoping it would lend some
dignity to my writing.

I try after all to chart the
psychic gaps of a society moving
too fast to know itself,
so entrenched
in what it owns
that dreams, fantasies,

obsessions are
merely material.

I try after all to poeticise the
energy and rush
the mundane speaks
(strictly to me )
of failed desire
of a material culture losing
it's SOUL ( capital
OH NO) without knowing it.

I try after all to store the
slips and traces
that you would rather forget
when your tongue races to
squeak of the latest
mobile model

obsessions are
merely material

"so mr lim it should be lost
posessions is it "

"perhaps ...."

The idea for this poem and really thus this whole section "language slips" came from a paper I marked for the Prelims. The phrase "lost obsessions" was a misapplication of "lost possessions" and the poem has fictionalised the rest - how the poet is termed the "keeper of lost obsessions" - a kind of priest-like existence like "the keeper of the keys". The poem however, moves to parody this role: poets take themselves too seriously sometimes. The poem really eats into itself - trying to poeticise the mundane language slip, yet realising that act is buying into a stance that removes poetry from being relevant. I'm still not exactly clear about the different parodies that take place ... it's a poem that keeps moving I guess.

Supposed to be

Supposed to be

10/19/2001

At a prayer meeting tonight but will not make an appearance as I wanted time to be with Ms Tan. Ironically, just spoke with her on her HP and she's still stranded on Pulau Ubin with her colleagues (the things teachers in good schools do when they are free ... can't they go watch a movie like everyone else?)and will not be back till late. So it's just me and the prospect of dinner alone. Not that I mind that much. Just the other day I left school rather early so that I could catch Captain Corelli's Mandolin at 4.15. Watched it alone: and would have really been alone except for another couple in the cinema who I suspect bought tickets for the movie really because they wanted to make out and were sorely disappointed to find that I was an uninvited guest. For some reason, the GUYs handphone kept ringing and he just refused to answer it. As in didn't even cut the call, quickly answer and say "I'm watching a movie - call you back", or just shut it off. He would just let the call ring on and on. After irritated looks from me (I just turned my head in that direction and clicked my tongue very loudly), his girlfriend made him go out of the theatre when the phone rang. Which he did - walkig out of the cinema with the phone ringing all the way. (To the tune of a Christmas Favourite ...) Mobile Phone Mobile Phone Ringing all the way O what fun it is to spoil Somebody else's day ... hey ... Mobile Phone Mobile Phone Ringing all the way It's my right to irritate Because the bills I pay. Dashing to keep it quiet each time my phone rings is not what I will do I will let it sing Do you know how much For this phone I have paid? It's flashing lights* and melodies are never gonna to fade ... *- the guy had the phone in his pants pocket and for some reason, each time it rang, his pants would light up with the twinkling outline of his phone - I think he was wearing ermmm ... translucent trackpants ... So why didn't he just cut the call? 1. He was going for a new world record in phone calls left unanswered 2. There's a new mobile phone scheme where unanswered calls chalk up points because it forces the caller to hit the voice-message - and thus paying for the call, without actually getting through 3. the guy was skipping work to make out with his girlfriend and didn't want to be caught ... 4. the guy was with someone else's girlfriend and didn't want to be caught 5. the guy was getting calls from ANOTHER girl while with his girlfriend and didn't want to be caught ... The possibilities proliferate. The GUY returned after awhile, and promptly fell asleep (I know because he SNORED) The movie was worth watching. If only for the wonderfully scenic shots of the island. Actually for all the hype over Penelope Cruz, I thought she was rather shrivelled looking and has a terrible voice (and worse accent). I was actually waiting, throughout the first third of the movie or so, for some beauteous screen goddess (Ok, I've never paid real attention to what Penelope Cruz looks like...) to invade the screen and then slowly realised that Penelope Cruz was already on screen. Anyway I shall be alone for dinner tonight. Don't know where I'll go yet. Will perhaps bring a book and eat slowly: books are great companions - they don't complain about where you're going to but speak so much. Used to tell Ms Tan: "You love animals, I love books", to which I would receive a shaking of the head ... Well, I think books are more animate than most people credit them to be ...

A Date

A Date

10/18/2001

Today was really relaxing. After a short bout of Bio prac invigilation at TSS (where I watched celery being cut into an assortment of shapes and sizes, while silently praying that no one would cut themselves with the "safety cutter" which hardly looked safe in the trembling hands of many a budding biologist, I went home and slept. Didn't want to go back to school because I knew people would just be asking me to do irelevant stuff. So managed to get quite a lot of marking done in the end.

Met up with one of my good girl friends, V, in the evening. She's declared herself a "free-lance editor/writer" which means she doesn't want to be tied down doing regular/proper/"i-have-to-fill-in-forms"/keep to schedule kind of work. She's writing about Lit education for some magazine and needed some ideas - which I gave - though it did turn into a ranting session after a while... It was very fun though because it's been such a long time since I've seen her and she's still as interesting as before. She's totally capable of being absolutely ditsy one moment and then fantastically insightful and lucid the next ... she was like the top Lit student in Year 1 in NUS ... and then decided to "take life easy". She's really fun to talk to. Like her because she doesn't carry any airs (she writes so densely I'm quite sure tutors sometimes gave her As because they didn't understand ...) and is so candid. Anyway, she's drifting.

If not for V life in NUS would have been totally mundane. Not knowing anyone else then, she was friendly enough to talk with me (same 1st year tutorial group for Lit) and to hang out. I guess it was through her that I got to know some of people in NUS. It was interesting - she would be this like always partying person, ("can we meet at Book Club at Mohd Sultan Road ... you don't know where? Never mind ... MPH ..." who got hit on by men from an assortment of ethnic groups and in the most strange locations. And I was like the nerd side-kick whom she would on occassion share her angst with.

Anyway, while there was a moment in NUS when I thought I was quite "fond" (loaded term)of her, but that idea passed ... she was way too hip and cool to be with someone like me. (ie she thought it was a stupid idea ...)

Anyway - she's a good friend.

A Return

A Return

10/17/2001

I write of returns, not to legislate my past for it is irredemably gone, but to find a thread that runs true. Since I started writing here to think about what I do each day I should return to that.

What I've appreciated most about the classes I teach I think is the opportunity to speak with individuals about their lives, to find out more about who they are, think they are or try to be. I think one of the ways I got to be more at ease with 4K was when I started getting to know them as individuals.

I think some adults have this POV that you've got to talk to children like they're children. I've realised that I'm not very good at that. This sometimes has its drawbacks. I don't give good advice very well. (ie in an objective "Have you thought about the consequences of your actions?" or "Imagine if you were in your parents' shoes?") On the other hand, I'm always very aware of the insufficency of what I know and have experienced and so can only gesture towards solutions rather than place them clearly in front of kids.

I love sitting in the canteen and chatting. Not in a purposeful let's-talk-about-why-you-got-a-B-instead-of-an-A way. Strange you know, cause I'm not a very good chatter with people my age. I suspect people my age are very reserved and cautious about what they'll tell you. It's all very "O how hot it is today" kind of stuff.

I like having serious talks too. Sometimes its important to just give a little space to ourselves to think about intrinsic things I guess. And when an individual is willing to question the basis of indentity and purpose with you, it's a magical moment.

I suppose that's why I'm a small group talker more. In a large group, it's easy to be a clown (used to have a running joke about how I'd be remembered on my gravestone as the FUNNY ONE) Of course, a clown is a clown (literary symbol :the fool/dwarf ...) to hide things or to adopt a less imposing guise lest his critique of reality hits too close to home. It's that wisdom in foolishness idea. You know, when the Caesars of Rome came back from glorious victories, they would when in triumphant procession, have at the back of their chariot, a dwarf murmuring, reminding them that they were mortal like every man. I suppose the dwarf does get serious only one person at a time ... because publically "the show must go on".

Ooo how we've digressed.

If I could start a CCA, I would start the "Philosophical Society", where members would sit around with coffee (or any other serious drink) and TALK. There is something in talking that is generative. We would trade stories. We would concoct theories. We would critique each other's lives.

In other words - why don't we get CCA points for being human? Why do we have to manufacture "activity"?

Was actually very pissed the whole morning with stupid bureacratic rubbish that was essentially a wild goose chase that pandered to the whims of indecision. Leaders should make the tough calls and not be namby pamby "why don't you generate everything to 3 decimal points (again) and then we can see how ... In the end, the rationale and decision remained - just wasted my time, killed a lot of trees and discredited the system even more. In order to be someone in the education service: you must
1. be servile
2. not understand things too quickly so you can be seen to do lots of work that might otherwise have been avoided by a more intelligent person
3. push the buck to someone who doesn't have the authority to make a decision
4. ask at least 5 other people who don't have a right to make a decision for their opinion
5. throw in irrelevant arguments to appear to be considering things from different perspectives
6. NOT keep an eye on the big picture because that would cause matters to be too clearly resolved (and thus making it appear that we're doing work)

Sigh ... at least if I were one of the kids ... I'd be assured that I wouldn't need to be back next year.

Why shoes are important

Why shoes are important

10/15/2001

Today was an interesting day without the sec 4s around. Of course there were a few around, some on the official study timetable:"I-have-to-be-here-because-my-parents-don't-trust-me-to-study-at-home", some because teachers wanted to see them and some ... well, some are always around. Anyway, had to see some PRCs for EL early but after that got to talking to kid from 4B. Was quite an interesting conversation ... but that's not the point of this entry the point is ...

Ok: Background - If Sec 4s want to come to school, they must be in full school uniform (Mrs L - DM)

Kid from 4B was not in "proper school uniform".
She was wearing the "old" PE T-shirt and slippers(!).
Wisely enough, she had, borrowed someone's shoes to walk around school with (from reading room)
I was dumb enough to suggest: "Let's go to the canteen I need a drink".
On passing the back of Audi to go to Canteen I make the quaint observation: Oh everyone (Sec 1-3) is in the Audi for Assembly
Kid from 4B meets person she borrowed shoes from in the canteen, who needs shoes back
despite my violent protests, she takes off shoes and says "it's ok, I can go around barefooted".
I am wrong - not everyone is in the Audi ...
In the middle of saying bye bye ... guess who turns up ...
Yup
Mrs L(to me):"Your student?
Me: Yes ...
Mrs L(gesturing to kid from 4B): "Come here ..."
Me - Feeling really guilty ... can only look on in silence and think "why am I so dumb".

Then I remember - after school I still have to attend a meeting - in close contact with Mrs L ... stress ... must hide behind VP ...

Fortunately, Mrs L was quite blur (she actually thought she didn't need to attend) about the meeting, came late and was still quite blur, and I kept giving suggestions so that there would be no conversational lull for her to ermmm, mention the "events of the day".

So - 1. wear your shoes to school

or - 2. Hide a few extra pairs in the reading room (!!joke!! for the clowns who might take this seriously - irony ... )

Notes on Dreams and Life

Notes on Dreams and Life

10/15/2001

"To die, to sleep;
To sleep, perchance to dream - ay, tehre's the rub;
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come,
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil
Must give us pause" hamlet, WS

"Our revels now are ended. These our actors, ...
Are melted into air, into thin air:
And, like the baseless fabric of this vision,
The cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself
Yea all which it inherit, shall dissolve,
And like this insubstantial pageant faded,
Leave not a rack behind.We are such stuff
as dreams are made on; and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep." Prospero, WS

"But all the story of the night told over,
And all their minds transfigur'd so together,
More witnesseth than fancy's images,
And grows to something of great constancy;
But howsoever,strange, and admirable.

Dreams as a metaphor for life - whether because they are insubstantial, only remembered, fragments, transient, strange, or just a deferral of life itself - were important to the Bard.

A dream is a rememberance of sorts and we do live life through an idea - live life, as we reflect on it, backwards almost. Julius Caesar lives life, trying to move forwards toward a goal - coronation - but it is not merely politics that holds him back, it is dreams. His "dream" (referring to ambition)is not the dream that ultimately matters (Cal's). Maybe Caesar should have been more introspective.

Thought: "The unreflected life is not worth living" -Socrates.
"The life reflected upon, may be unliveable" - ...

Waiting for Rain

Waiting for Rain

10/14/2001

It is a fact of life that it rains on Sunday afternoons. While there may be a scientific or meterological explanation for the fact, I prefer to think that it is a cleansing of sorts, after the messiness of fatigue and hurry throghout the whole week and the languid disordered weekend, the rain on Sunday speaks of new beginnings. So I wait for the rain to come. As I was walking back earlier I noted darkness gathering over the industrial areas in the west: rain comes over this city in parts. Moving first to the areas that are dry, the regions that are thristing. But now, two hours later, there is a strange unyielding -it will not rain. Sunlight still filters through the garish green leaves behind me. I hear thunder in the distance. So I wait for the release, firm in my belief that the rain will come. I can smell the coolness of the earth touched by water, soil softened by life. Perhaps it has begun to rain. Perhaps somewhere else, not here in the west. Because the earth is even more thirsty, elsewhere.

Dog Days

Dog Days

10/13/2001

In the afternoon, went to Ms Tan's house (we're still confused as to where we live exactly - so when we call each other on HP and I ask "where are you?" and Ms Tan says "At home" I still have to clarify - "your home or my home" - which isn't much of a clarification ... anyway) to look on KIKI.

Kiki is a white german spitz (I think) who is really old. 15 to 17 years - which translates to over a hundred years old I think. Anyway - we had to bath him (one of the reasons I like cats ...) yuck - gunky bec. he's incontinent and keeps lying down in his own doo. It's so icky that his the whole of his right side is permanently stained brown. Then we had to bring him to the vet for a jab. Earlier this year, his eye got infected - and maggots were growing in it (went to the vet at 1 am to get it treated). Consequently, his eye had to be taken out and the wound is still in the process of healing and very prone to infection. Sigh. With three legged cats and one-eyed dogs, I think my life is far from perfect. Must however, commend Ms Tan who has made me so much more sensitive to the realities of loving a pet. (Kiki was - as mittens and Marmaduke - an animal that wasn't wanted ...) Anyway - at the vet, most of the people had these cute lap dogs and just kept staring at poor ol Kiki. They probably wonder why Ms Tan still loves him and spends so much effort on the old guy. I remember once at the vet a kid started pointing and his eyeless socket and said,"Eeeee, mummy why like that one?" And the parent didn't say anything. Another reason why I'm not into kids (or irresponsible parents) Worse was when some Auntie started dishing advice on the dog and how we need to be responsible owners ... Sigh ... all owners of cute lapdogs.
BTW a certain Geog teacher(male) just rescued a terrier that almost got knocked down by a car ... so hurray for the spirit of being nice to animals.

Also spoke for 1.5 hours (?) to Matt in the UK. Matt is probably the closest thing that comes to having a best friend to me - he's 2 years younger and was also from AC. We grew up in the same neighbourhood and went to the same church. When we were in Sec school, we started spending a lot of time together. And grew quite close. Only calls me occassionally though (yes yes expensive), when he isn't working hard at making discoveries worthy of a PhD. Anyway - he sounded rather blue today. Lamenting loneliness. Tried to get him to say something interesting about the new Singaporeans at Cambridge ("why don't you check out the new young things and take care of them")but even that didn't get him going. Strange you know - after so many years in the UK, he still feels the loneliness - I guess it has to do with not having anyone immediately available to talk with. Anyway - I think he was being wimpy - complaining about being in the UK !!! Go for a walk ! At least there's stuff to see and it isn't hot !!! Actually, it was really nice to talk to him. At least I could tell my stories and have a new audience. He'll be back in DEC - hurray - and we'll probably bum around and eat teochew mui. I also thought about the fact of how we just talk to each other. It's like we know each other so well we don't even bother to give advice. Just narrating what's been going on is enough when talking to Matt - cause I guess we've given each other enough advice for a lifetime. I guess I like talking to him too because I can call him a scumbag (?!) and mean it sincerely as a term of endearment.

Tried to finally edit some stuff that Mrs K wants by Monday. Hiyah so boring. Read essays the whole year and now need to edit essays for Images. Can't they get the EL teachers to do it? Hang on - that's me. Actually she didn't say she wanted it by Monday - heh heh - but then she never says anything about deadlines anyway. She's too nice to not help ... it's supposed to be my job to help and if I don't help, she'll do them ALL herself ... I think I'll do them tomorrow.

What i really want to do is finish up some books i'm reading. You know, that conversation in the staff room about "adventurous girls" has still got me thinking:
Cat: You know, some girls are really adventurous. They go into extreme sports to the extent that they're whole life is very exciting
Sham: Yah, some of them are damn garang.
Cat: Like some of them, go rock climbing - they sleep overnight hanging on some rock face
Sham: why do they do it?
Cat: it's the challenge I think that motivates them
ME (finally): Well, I'm challenged by READING BOOKS.
Cat and Sham (loudly): HA HA HA HA - That's such an unchallenging thing !!! HA HA HA ...

I beg to differ. Currently reading the following and will try to finish them soon:

1. Godel Escher and Bach - a study of intelligence: how intelligence becomes consciousness
2. Anti-Oedipus (Delueze and Guattarri): Machines - flows and disjunctions - heavy stuff which tries to break out of the Freudian "I" and re-formulate desire as primary
3.Justine - Lawrence Durrell - first part of the Alexandrian Quartet - very evocative stuff. Will end the entry with a quote.
4. A Passage to India: Re-reading my A level book
5. Kierkegaard - just finished a small pocket book - now into a Reader.
6. In search of Schrodinger's Cat - haven't touched it for a while
7. The man who knew infinity - the life of Ramanujan - a fascinating read about an Indian Math genius - but ut gets bogged down in details of cricket and the like

From Justine :
Driving along that pure and natal coastline they watched the first tendrils of sunlight uncoil from horizon to horizon across the dark self-sufficient Mediterranean seas whose edges were at one and the same moment touching lost hallowed Catharge and Salamis in Cyprus.

Beautiful line because it is precisely that - one line - like the "tendrils" spoken of, the line stretches from movement and motion - "driving along" - into an abstract space of sunlight (yes, light is not a thing but a field, an abstract space) causing the vision of the horizon to unfold. The fact that the sea is spoken of in such terms - named ancient cities - all brought into a simultaneous moment, all touched at once - by both the "sea" and the line, liberates the space of the line. No punctuation marks yet perfect rhythm.

Line of the the day indeed.

TD Saga

TD Saga

10/12/2001

Ms Tan just sat next to me.
First thing she said to me this morning
"I had a very bad Dream"
"I dreamt you forced me to marry someone else"
"So now I'm married to two people"

You see what 51 year old lonely old men can do to your MIND?

Names

Names

10/12/2001

Have realised (after reading several ODs and reading comments) that names are an interesting indication of what we think of people, or how we hide our identities. In effect, names are the strongest defence we have against the outside world. Felt this as I perused ODs and realised that you seem to know who the person/people referred to are, but without the names you can't quite confirm. Reminds me of using names in the Army.
Sergeant asks: "What's your name"
Only an IDIOT will say my name is "Aloysius" (eg)
I went known as "Lim". You see - everyone is Lim.

Then there are the names of cyberspace. A way of re-constructing a self through a little moniker. I suppsoe since we only expose a side of us through text and short comments, we choose names that are perhaps fantasy constructions. "Limit" was chosen because it's the only word that can be formed by inserted a single vowel into my initials. (Do't even think of "lomot" or "lumut" - they aren't words anyway) In effect, it reflects my interest in language and how the contraints of formal rules shape our identities. The duality in the name - "am I limited or limiting" is also a constant reminder that I need to remain aware of my own ... err ... limits.

Anyway, referring to people, there is a strange movement sometimes when you have to relate to two different streams. For example, yesterday was talking to both teacher and students at same time and had to refer to another teacher. Still not used to being formal I always refer to teachers by first names. So it was like ... I'll hand it to Cat... errm... Mrs Yeow. So strange. Even stranger is when other teachers call you by your formal tag. Especially when Mrs Blaw wants to speak with me along a corridor in a classroom - she'll go "Mr Lim ..." So funny. Makes no diff for me with the older teachers, cause I call them "Mrs this ..." "Mrs that ..." or even "Mdm ..."

What I like to do

What I like to do

10/12/2001

is to watch people that I know do things and be themselves without them knowing that I'm watching. I suppose observation is interesting when you don't attach a tag to it ie don't try to judge people for why they behave such but just let those behaviours lead to associations and thoughts. I suppose it's splitting hairs - how can you observe without judging? - I think it's in the details.

So today I sat in DF at JEC watching people. Interestingly enough, there were many kids there that I knew. Actually sit there to mark stuff helps when there is coffee and a semblance of a life, to read bad grammar and squint to make out writing. Anyway - there's this corner in DF that I usually sit at. it's a brilliant place because no one looks into that corner. They either walk straight past you or head straight for the counter. Once, there was even some of the kids staring at an advert right next to me and they didn't even see me. But the corner was taken today, So I sat at the opposite corner. And watched many kids. Clowning around, gossipping (chatting they call it). I came to realise there are several categories of kids.

"Intelligent-and-articulate-but-formal"
These are the ones that I have cordial conversations with. When they ask something, it must be about work. I think there's an unspoken barrier for them that they have to have something work related to talk about. These are the ones that you can have quite and interesting and animated conversation with, if there's something "intellectual" to discuss. These are the ones where strange conversational lulls also happen. Which I usually defuse with - "well ok i better get going".

"Guys"
Hate to generalise but it's true. Very few guys make interesting conversation - especially in groups. It's usually "Har har Harh ... you Har hah har" I think these are the most fun conversations in a very mindless way. Just listen to them make sick jokes and insult each other.

"Tell-me-about-your-life"
I find these kids the more introspective, able to articulate their emotions and fears about the future. Actually, none of the categories are exclusive and I think one-on-one, or at least in a small group, most kids are quite like this - willing to talk about themselves and curious about your own experiences. Find these talks the most enriching and will sorely miss these.

"..."
There's then that breed of kid that is really scared of you, no matter what. They've probably not done work like for really long and even if you try casual conversation with them, they can't make it. These avoid you at all costs. But are willing to be boistrous and irritating when in your presence but in a group - really strange.

"entertain me"
Then there are the kids talk to you just for laughs. It's like - tell me what will tickle me - only. I guess there's a time for this, but I find some of them tend to shy away when you want to find out more about them.

Have this thing (in general) about people. I think there's a sort of human that exists merely on the surface. They don't delve deeper into themselves or talk about themselves too much because there's nothing inside. In the sense that they haven't thought about it too much. Eliot has a poem called "The Hollow Men" - I think it's an apt description. Anyway, some people live all their lives at the surface. Scary. And they never bother to go beyond that. I guess that's why they are a little tentative about emotions etc.

BTW - Ms Tan came home with a story worth telling. Apparently, as she was taking a taxi home, the taxi driver became engaged in a most interesting conversation with her. The gist : he actually said she was pretty, didn't look chinese, and (get this) offered to pick her up anytime she called his HP. Also, he divulged details like he was 51 (years old !!)and was on the verge of a divorce. He inquired about her husband (me), asking, "Does he love you? / Does he treat you nicely?" Freaky if you ask me. Anyway, Ms Tan recounted the encounter with me, and laughed most rudely at my expressions of digust and horror. OK - it was quite comical I admit. And she did bring up the fact that Taxi drivers don't really have people to talk to and so always talk to her. I countered that observation with the fact that when I take a Taxi (her objection: "You hardly take a taxi ...") the driver never speaks to me.

In fact, the last two "conversations" I had (on taking a Taxi from school ...) went
Me: Holland Village
TD: (Silence and drives off)
TD: Wah, car lincense plate now SBM already ... very fast!
Me: Yah ...(Silence for the rest of the journey)
I mean, look - by the time we hit the AYE we exhaust all conversational topics whereas Ms Tan always has these lengthy conversations to report about!

Maybe it's my bad Mandarin - then again the TDs speak in English sometimes. Ah well - as Ms Tan said (pretending to console me while still laughing like crazy at my reaction) - "You should feel flattered that some men find your wife attractive ..."

Right. Men aged Fifty-One.

What I like to do

is to watch people that I know do things and be themselves without them knowing that I'm watching. I suppose observation is interesting when you don't attach a tag to it ie don't try to judge people for why they behave such but just let those behaviours lead to associations and thoughts. I suppose it's splitting hairs - how can you observe without judging? - I think it's in the details.
So today I sat in DF at JEC watching people. Interestingly enough, there were many kids there that I knew. Actually sit there to mark stuff helps when there is coffee and a semblance of a life, to read bad grammar and squint to make out writing. Anyway - there's this corner in DF that I usually sit at. it's a brilliant place because no one looks into that corner. They either walk straight past you or head straight for the counter. Once, there was even some of the kids staring at an advert right next to me and they didn't even see me. But the corner was taken today, So I sat at the opposite corner. And watched many kids. Clowning around, gossipping (chatting they call it). I came to realise there are several categories of kids.
"Intelligent-and-articulate-but-formal"
These are the ones that I have cordial conversations with. When they ask something, it must be about work. I think there's an unspoken barrier for them that they have to have something work related to talk about. These are the ones that you can have quite and interesting and animated conversation with, if there's something "intellectual" to discuss. These are the ones where strange conversational lulls also happen. Which I usually defuse with - "well ok i better get going".
"Guys"
Hate to generalise but it's true. Very few guys make interesting conversation - especially in groups. It's usually "Har har Harh ... you Har hah har" I think these are the most fun conversations in a very mindless way. Just listen to them make sick jokes and insult each other.
"Tell-me-about-your-life"
I find these kids the more introspective, able to articulate their emotions and fears about the future. Actually, none of the categories are exclusive and I think one-on-one, or at least in a small group, most kids are quite like this - willing to talk about themselves and curious about your own experiences. Find these talks the most enriching and will sorely miss these.
"..."
There's then that breed of kid that is really scared of you, no matter what. They've probably not done work like for really long and even if you try casual conversation with them, they can't make it. These avoid you at all costs. But are willing to be boistrous and irritating when in your presence but in a group - really strange.
"entertain me"
Then there are the kids talk to you just for laughs. It's like - tell me what will tickle me - only. I guess there's a time for this, but I find some of them tend to shy away when you want to find out more about them.
Have this thing (in general) about people. I think there's a sort of human that exists merely on the surface. They don't delve deeper into themselves or talk about themselves too much because there's nothing inside. In the sense that they haven't thought about it too much. Eliot has a poem called "The Hollow Men" - I think it's an apt description. Anyway, some people live all their lives at the surface. Scary. And they never bother to go beyond that. I guess that's why they are a little tentative about emotions etc.

BTW - Ms Tan came home with a story worth telling. Apparently, as she was taking a taxi home, the taxi driver became engaged in a most interesting conversation with her. The gist : he actually said she was pretty, didn't look chinese, and (get this) offered to pick her up anytime she called his HP. Also, he divulged details like he was 51 (years old !!)and was on the verge of a divorce. He inquired about her husband (me), asking, "Does he love you? / Does he treat you nicely?" Freaky if you ask me. Anyway, Ms Tan recounted the encounter with me, and laughed most rudely at my expressions of digust and horror. OK - it was quite comical I admit. And she did bring up the fact that Taxi drivers don't really have people to talk to and so always talk to her. I countered that observation with the fact that when I take a Taxi (her objection: "You hardly take a taxi ...") the driver never speaks to me.

In fact, the last two "conversations" I had (on taking a Taxi from school ...) went

Me: Holland Village
TD: (Silence and drives off)
TD: Wah, car lincense plate now SBM already ... very fast!
Me: Yah ...(Silence for the rest of the journey)

I mean, look - by the time we hit the AYE we exhaust all conversational topics whereas Ms Tan always has these lengthy conversations to report about!
Maybe it's my bad Mandarin - then again the TDs speak in English sometimes. Ah well - as Ms Tan said (pretending to console me while still laughing like crazy at my reaction) - "You should feel flattered that some men find your wife attractive ..."
Right. Men aged Fifty-One.

What is Fondness

What is Fondness

10/10/2001

Fondness is a special word to me. It's one of those slippery "in-between" words that can be used in various situations for several effects. I like using it when I speak of animals - there is a closeness that seems fuzzy when it's used that way.

I'm also particularly fond of the word fond because it was the tentative word that I used to first express my non-platonic "fondness" for Ms Tan. In an off the cuff pseudo cool manner one night on the phone I 'casually' told her, "I'm rather fond of you." It's a quaint little line isn't it? A little bit stiff and old-fashioned and yet having the suggestiveness of emotional intimacy. It was a deliberate choice because it gave me room to recoup in case she wasn't into me. As things turned out, she was "fond" of me in the same manner.

And today, I think I uncovered another moment of fondness, of a different sort. Class Chairperson was not feeling well and was sleeping in the sick bay. So I went to look in on her during lunch and some of 4K was there as well. Actually quite a number trooped in after a while and the room was beginning to resemble a hospital ward. Had to chase them out because "it will not do to have students in the staff room", but that was a moment of fondness, to see them caring for one another like that and bothering to cluster into the sick bay. (Ok ok maybe it was just herd mentality and everyone just wanted the aircon of the staff room - but it was rather stuffy in the sick bay ...) A moment of fondness, knowing that while the kids may not be brightest and the best in school, they certainly are some of the most caring, honest, sincere, unpretentious ones around. Anyway had to be mean and 1. Chased them out and 2. Chased class chairperson out/home

Surely a day to remember.

What I've come to realise

What I've come to realise

10/9/2001

is that I do not rise up to the big occassion. I prefer to stay in a comfort zone where everyone is appeased. unlike some other teachers that I've come to respect tremendously, who will put their credibility and professionalism on the line, I retreat and tend to mark out a space of nonchalance when it comes to these decision making meetings. It's not so much that I've afraid of what people will think but that I run to the BIG picture too quickly. I move out and start thinking "what's the point anyway" almost by reflex and tend to think it's better for some things to take their own course. I guess I merely make in-roads in small ways. Surely, I am not one of bold proclamation.

Did some autographs for people that asked today. Came upone the idea of photocopying some of the stuff I own in order to leave them with an image of me "imprinted". I think it was quite cool, especially when I did the ELEPHANT at my desk. Then in a moment of inspiration I started thinking body parts. Managed to do a pretty decent hand but had to perfect photocopying my face.

This one required skill. First - had to do it when NO ONE ELSE was around in the TRC. Second - had to enlist the help of a like-minded individual to press the PRINT button for me. Was going to do it (with the help of partner in crime Miss OTC) when more important teacher walked in. So had to hang around and pretend I was entering marks or something. Finally did it and was quite pleased with the results. The first ones didn't work very well because I closed my eyes too tightly I think. But the subsequent ones were quite cool - they look like I'm drifting in an endless sleep. Anyway - re-photocopied them for clearer effects and contrast.

I hope no one gets grossed out by the number of blackheads on my face.

Interlude: Ode to Black Ambition

Interlude: Ode to Black Ambition

10/8/2001

O for a song of the coffee cup,
O for a song to end the day
O to sing the thrill of Dark Ambition*
Pouring down my throat's highway

Alas the Canteen was deserted
Stall 9 had closed for the Night**
Where could I go for a Kopi-O -
My thirsting throat's delight?

For I can never cease to tell
Of the wonders brought to my heart
When the trickle of coffee freshly brewed
Hits the bottom of my gut.

For I will never cease to proclaim
The miraculous humble Bean:
That crushed and powdered then liquified
Washes my gullet clean

Coke? Qoo? Horlick peng,
Stand but in pale compare^
When there's a cup of Kopi-O
In the vicinity somewhere.

Sprite? Milo? Iced Lemon tea,
Are beverages inferior -
For the truest measure of a man
Is a Kopi-O Superior.

So I stopped at a coffee shop
"Kopi siew tai tjee pway"^^
I anxiously muttered to the Kopi-kia
Whose mind seemed miles away.

'"Pokka Cafe" Ke Yi Mah?'
Came the unfliching reply
His quiet words were an anathema***
To my throat hoarse and dry

"Kopi siew tai" I tried again
With a weakened, helpless breath
A shake of the head, a turning away
My Kopi hopes were dashed.

With footsteps leaden,with a heavy heart,
I walked my saddened way-
O Cruel Misfortune, O Endless Despair
O Kopi siew tai tjee pway!

On stumbling home, in an awful shape
When I thought I was undone:
I finally had to settle for
"Nescafè three-in-one"

O for a song of the coffee cup,
O for a song to end the day
O to sing the thrill of Dark Ambition
Pouring down my throat's highway.

* - refers to Coffee (from an old Sheena Easton song)

** - I know it closes at six but "Night" is easier to rhyme and more poetic...

^ - grammatically wrong - but have you tried to rhyme "comparison"?

^^ - Forgive the poor translation

*** - a solemn ecclesiastical curse

4 in the morning

4 in the morning

10/7/2001

and the rain has been coming down in sheets. It woke me up about an hour ago and I just went to close the windows. But insulated from the noise, the rain sounded like a distant anger rather than a clearly articulated demonstration that we live in a world of flows larger than ourselves. So I couldn't get back to sleep but had to hear the rain more clearly. It's died down a bit by now, but the splattering still makes the morning worth being awake for. The sky's covered with thick clouds still. I guess the rain hasn't exhausted itself and we'll be in for a glorious day of wet. Really helps, when you've got to stand up and teach, to have the rain on your side. It sets your voice in a nice context, nature's background music for the day. Rather than the dry hum of traffic on a humid day, when the only intangible sense evoked is the smell of Jurong Island sulphur, the pattering of the rain keeps everyone waiting for something new to begin.

In rain you realise many things. That there are forces that grow out of your control. Even when you wished you could determine the direction of sometime, or exercise a precision of effect, nature has someone or something greater that will bring those intentions to a different place. The rain spoils plans. You can't walk out because it's wet and you can't keep moving because your shirt's going to get plastered to yourself. In rain you remember the difference between the day and night. Daytime rain is obvious and can be spoken of in terms of incovenience or the immediate comfort it brings. Night rain brings movement in the dark that is somewhat ominous. You hear, lying on your bed, the climaxes of the wind, the drumming to what goal on your window pane, waiting for something to break. You can't sleep because you want to be with the rain, more than with the sounds of the rain. Waking you realise that while the rain's outside and beyond your control, you'll never really be a part of it.

But the rain brings coolness in all cases. Not the sterile controlled coolness of an airconditioned room - the coolness of the rain is unexpected. With a sudden gust on a rainy day, you feel the freshness of the air in your room. What is longed for is the moment the rain becomes your experience - when you make contact with the rain - not as water on skin, but as a moment remembered.