Cadillac

2011-05-16T07:14:00.006+08:00

This blog has, for a while now, been dying a slow natural death. In a vain attempt to revive it, and at the same time to preserve some memories in a more lasting and easily accessible form than a Word document on this poor netbook, I will post some things I have written since the beginning of this exchange. It is, so to speak, a diary, but a rather clumsy one. I have unfortunately written my thoughts all over the place: in two separate notebooks, on the Word document I will now post, on this blog, on Tumblr, and most substantially in my emails to Nicole.

These were meant to be private thoughts. By posting them I am succumbing to my exhibitionist and narcissistic tendencies - I know that I will read this many times as I grow older and reminisce about this prime of my life. I hope there are at least a few people who will bother to read at least a bit of this.

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I will start writing down my thoughts more regularly. This is a special time of my life and it would be a shame to forget even its more mundane details. Every day, countless thoughts, ideas and emotions rush through my head. Some of them are expressed to the few people I know here, some in emails to Nicole, and some on one of the online platforms. Most, however, are remain in my head as silenced nuggets of memories or even wisdom, and I now think it wise to record as many of them as I can somewhere. For this first entry I would like to recall some of my thoughts over the past few weeks.

It is a Sunday evening: the time of the week when Belgian students return to the city from the comforts of their homes elsewhere in the country (or in the world, usually the Netherlands). It is one of two times of the week when the city is filled with the very familiar sound of luggage wheels rumbling on sidewalks, the other of course being Friday afternoons/ evenings. Indeed, that low groaning rattle ought to be Leuven’s signature sound, even more so than the lovely chime of the church bells. Brugge’s bells chime more often and more beautifully anyway. Rolling luggage constantly remind everyone that Leuven has long been and will perhaps forever be a student city.

I am rather impressed by the average Belgian’s ability to speak three languages relatively fluently. Those few from the German part can usually speak four languages. What makes it more impressive is that they start learning other languages than their mother tongue only at about 13 or 14, when they usually start learning English and the other national language in school. Mandarin Chinese was the first language I spoke in my life and I have studied it throughout my life, yet I still struggle very much with it. It either attests to the difficulty of Mandarin, the vast difference between Mandarin and European languages, or my poor language ability.

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It snowed today for the first time in Leuven and the first time in my life, although there were extremely light flurries on Monday before I left for Aachen. Today the snow also came in a very light flurry but at least it was visibly snow.

Bus, train, plane
These are the three main modes of transport for travelling around Europe. I have in my head gone through lots of pros and cons, although I have not yet flown in Europe.

Plane
Beyond the distance of a one night train ride, most people would fly. It can be cheap if booked in advance. However, I think most people view flights as an unpleasant necessity to get somewhere rather than as part of the travel experience. Therefore, most people would prefer to fly no more than twice in each trip. Airports tend to be far from city centres and the lengthy pre-flight procedures often turn people off. Finally, it leaves the biggest carbon footprint.

Train
On most routes and in most countries trains are the most popular, most convenient and fastest way to travel. Trains are frequent and quick and go from city centre to city centre. The biggest downside is price: trains are usually the most expensive mode of transport between two cities, and over long distances and popular routes can cost several times the bus fare.

Bus
Cheap and environmentally friendly, buses are often not popular. However, in certain areas they are the most convenient way of getting around. Long distance buses in Europe tend to run overnight, capturing a niche market. Over certain distances this is certainly more convenient than taking the train for a whole day (eg. Brussels-Berlin). I don’t love coaches but I suspect I enjoy them more than the average person. They are cheap, even up to the last minute, and give a view into a side of Europe travellers rarely see: dingy bus stations (why are bus stations always dirtier and shadier than train stations?), immigrants and poorer people, lonely petrol stations haunted by sleepy truck drivers.

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It has been a while since I wrote here. I have a few thoughts.

Leuven is a very safe place. People have no qualms leaving their things, including their computers, lying around in school, not unlike Singapore, and unlike the habits of some European exchange students in Singapore. It is safe at the oddest hours of the day, owing to the strong party culture and vibrant nightlife.

The city office, however, is quite inefficient. It could not open my file before I moved in. After it opened my case, the police did their bit very quickly and returned the file to the city office. Thereafter the office took the maximum ten days to set up an appointment with me, which was about four days thereafter (I think). After that appointment it again took the maximum ten days to get back to me. It has been a full month since I first turned up to register, and I have another three weeks to wait. Allowing one week for the average new resident to turn up for registration (although I am sure the average is probably longer), this means that it is at least two months from arrival before a new resident is fully registered. By Singaporean standards that would be an awfully long time. However, most things are run efficiently, for instance the police as mentioned above.

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Some of the highlights so far – not memorable experiences, of which there are much more, but true highlights where my heart soared.

1) Walking out of the Leuven side of the train station on the morning of 180111. I had had a long tiring gloomy day getting to Leuven, and the previous day I had gone straight to the hostel on the Kessel-Lo side, which was mucky and under construction. It was a sunny morning, and for a few brief moments I felt like I was in the right place. In a few hours, the weather would get worse and I would start the difficult search for a room, but I still remember the joy that surged through me emerging onto the Martalarenplein for the first time.

2) Snowboarding down a slope on the toeside for the first time. When I realised I could go down and stop on the toeside, and thus being able to bona fide “snowboard”, I felt so excited I grinned nonstop for a long time after while practising further. This happened on the beginner slope at Les Deux Alpes. Later that day I would go to the “Big Viking” beginner slope and snowboard properly down several times, sort of carving on both toe and heel side. It was a happy day.

3) Moving into this room. It was a happy, comfortable feeling after almost three weeks of a vagabond lifestyle. I unpacked my bags and chucked my stuff all over the room, where some of them still remain.

4) Cinque Terre. It is a beautiful place, especially Manarola and the Via dell’Amore. Vernazza is as beautiful, but it was a little rushed for me to fully enjoy. The sunset over Manarola with a traditional Ligurian farinata is perhaps the best travel experience I have had so far. It was enhanced, no doubt, by the thought that Nicole had been at the same place and had called me. There was only one thing to do, and that was to return the favour. I was alone, but I could feel the romance of the place. Just walking up and down the hills of Riomaggiore and Manarola I felt at ease and contented. The atmosphere and sunshine of Cinque Terre were a welcome respite from the gloomy cold of Belgium. I slept very well all night. More time would have been nice, but I managed to see the main sights and many of the hiking routes were closed anyway, so I have no regrets.

5) Taylor Swift. It was really a fairy tale, a dream come true. This is easily the most emotional experience I have had here; my heart leapt everywhere in an hour and a half. The highlights of this highlight are when she emerged and launched into Sparks Fly, when she sang Fearless, especially the part “in this moment now, capture it, remember it” – I almost cried, when she was singing and dancing to “You Belong with Me”. Music transports us through our memories and our dreams, and her songs bring me to amazing times, mostly with Nicole, and also forward into my hopes for the future. I think that is why Fearless is such a fantastic song. It inspires us to draw strength from our memories and our past to plunge courageously into pursuing our dreams, without forgetting to live and enjoy the moment.

210311 1716
I have so much on my mind right now it may be impossible to write everything down. What I essentially would like to say is how amazing this trip to Ireland was. It was a tremendous experience that filled me with much joy, pleasure and pride. I have learnt and gained so much and would like to recall some of those here.

Hitchhiking is obviously one of those experiences that left a deep impression on me. I forced myself to leap far out of my comfort zone and to confront a completely new challenge. While I am generally now quite confident in getting around and getting things done alone, hitchhiking was a whole new ballgame in that I had to put myself out in front of the whole world to be judged, to ask for help in the full expectation that it will probably not be given, and to meet and interact with complete strangers.

I am truly proud of myself for hitchhiking a considerable distance with different drivers. All of them strengthened my faith in the goodness of people and specifically in the generosity and kindness of the Irish people. I was also particularly pleased when Patrick emailed me to tell me how I made his day. Such is the joy of simple human interaction and conversation, when two complete strangers from ends of the world can meet by chance for an hour or so and have a positive impact on each other.

From the travel perspective hitchhiking allowed me a profound insight into Ireland and its people. All three drivers told me much about the history and culture of the country and about the present gloomy mood. I saw a number of small towns I would never have otherwise visited or even heard of, including Cahir, which had a lovely castle right in the heart of town.

Various other smaller experiences also gave me a lot more confidence in myself, on top of a lot of fun, of course. Finding the Rainbow Hostel in the darkness of night and cycling around the Slea Head Drive were both fantastic experiences, as were the early morning Dingle parade and the Killarney parade.

This trip is also memorable for the friends I met and the lessons I learnt on friendship. I met an old friend from JC, a really old and nearly best friend, and a group of acquaintances from law school, perhaps now friends. Given my solitude here on exchange, I really enjoyed talking to real people I knew for once, as opposed to making small talk or talking to a green furry hare.

The weather must also be mentioned. It was particularly cooperative, save for the first few moments at Dublin Airport and the last couple of nights. I returned to Leuven to bright sunshine. Spring is here, and I think my exchange has seen a new beginning. I am strong, brave and adventurous.

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This past week since I returned from Ireland I have been in a few minds about friendship and exchange. My conversations with BC, Janahan, Ming Kun, Pamela and Swan made me feel somewhat envious of the very tight bonds they have no doubt formed with their respective groups of friends in this period of living and travelling in Europe.
Whereas I spend most of my days on exchange alone , whether in Leuven or travelling. To be sure, I have friends, but they are of the fleeting sort. I think all of us international students here acknowledge and understand that the friends we make here will hardly ever turn out to be close lifelong ones. We make the effort to reach out and hang out and have a good time, but we all know that our best friends are back home.

Or, in my case, are they? The “train” on Skype, as it has come to be known, has been an excellent platform for Joshua, Kallynn, Jen and me to chat and remain in touch. I might even say we have become closer with the train. I truly hope we will remain close friends when I return (we will for sure), and after we graduate (not so sure).

I also wonder how close BC and I really are now. I appreciate the length to which he went to make it in time to meet me in Dublin at short notice. I have no doubt that he will be there whenever I need him, as I will be for him. However, I find that our conversations have not moved on much from our secondary school days. He has new friends now, with whom he shares new experiences and memories, as I do. It may be difficult to find common ground moving forward, although hopefully his return to Singapore will change that.

My travel plans have been set for the next month or so: Morocco, then the Balkans until the end of April. Thereafter I really ought to get started studying.

To the list of awesome experiences above I must add the pleasure of hitchhiking. In particular I remember walking up and down the waiting cars at Newlands cross in the big green hat, smiling at every driver, and waiting at Durrow and Cahir with the green hat and Herry. Also, listening to Pat Moylan’s life story while the Free Electric Band blasted in the background. That was somehow quite poignant.

Cycling along the Slea Head Drive probably also counts as awesome, especially the earlier section around the cliffs just before Slea Head itself.

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Today I finally received my residence permit.

My thoughts have been heavily preoccupied by the impending general elections. Many of my peers are politically apathetic, but for some reason or other I have been fascinated by it since I was a small boy. The reason could be anything from a base mechanical interest in how things work or a genuine belief in the “power of power”.

There is certainly a palpable sense that this is a watershed year, and I sort of wish I was in Singapore to experience it. I would like to attend rallies, having not attended any for my constituency since 1997 and none at all since 2001. Having picked up the habit of drinking Tiger Beer late into the night at coffeeshops, I would like to join the uncles I have met there in chatting about politics. Now that I am in law school with politically aware and interested classmates, I would like to discuss and debate political issues with my friends. All this sounds clichéd for a law student – after all this is how the Men in White began their path to fifty-plus years of political dominance – but I think I am of the age when I should be more interested or even active politically.

This year, many issues have come to a head. The tremendous increase in immigration since the last election has caused some social friction and plenty of suspicion that the new arrivals are taking jobs and opportunities away from born and bred Singaporeans. The income gap has become frighteningly wide, and the minimum wage sacred cow is regularly dragged into debate. The cost of living is a perennial hot potato that just got really hot, with COEs heading back to their earlier highs and the property bull charging hard with no signs of slowing down. The latter is particularly sensitive. The issue of new HDB flats for young couples is a big issue that has reared its head many times over the past few years and that has forced Mah Bow Tan to defend his ministry’s policies more vigorously than the government has had to in the past. Transport is another point of contention, with car prices increasing as mentioned above and the promised improvements to the public transport system coming too slowly for the electorate.

All this is set against the wider global backdrop of political change and revolution: the Arab revolution this year, the defeat of the LDP in Japan for the first time in 50 years in 2009, the defeat of the KMT in 2004, and closest to home, the unprecedented defeat of BN’s two-thirds majority in Malaysia. There is a remote possibility that the opposition will take away the PAP’s two-thirds majority this year.

Are Singaporeans ready for change? The big question is whether Singaporeans are mature enough and bright enough to make the correct policy decisions. PAP has for the most part made the right moves over the past fifty years in a top-down and rather arrogant manner. I am sure they will continue to do so if they remain in power. The question for me is whether I, and Singapore, have had enough of PAP’s arrogance and constant failure to consult the populace. If yes, then Singaporeans must also be prepared to present viable policy options of their own accord. For example, if not immigration, how are we to combat the economic effects of a falling birth rate? In place of Workfare, will minimum wage do a better job in lifting the lower income group?

All said, this is a year I would have liked to be in Singapore. Of course, I am still very grateful and happy to have this opportunity to live and travel overseas.

Songs of this exchange
Katie Perry - Firework
Taylor Swift – almost all, especially Fearless, You Belong with Me, Enchanted, Sparks Fly, Long Live, Mean, Back to December
Razorlight –America
Bon Jovi – almost all again
Five hundred miles, Viva la Vida, Free Electric Band, Ireland’s Call

020411 1156 Chefchaouen Harmony Hotel
It is interesting to note what nationality I am mistaken for in various places. It does not say much about myself but more about cultural and international perceptions of a place. In the Philippines the most common guess was at “Korean”, because it is a popular destination for Korean tourists. In Morocco it is usually Japan, sometimes China and Korea. French is also not an uncommon guess, reflective of the significant and increasing ethnic Asian population in France.

The Tin Pei Ling saga has left me wondering. Our Public Law tutors were very sceptical of the “sensitive man” reasons for the restrictions on political criticism, and for the most part I agree with them. Many people, however, have during this Tin Pei Ling debacle spoken out against the perceived descent of Singaporean politics into a culture of “gutter” politics and debate. It is not an unfair point. After all, we have all probably taken “act cute” pictures at some point in our lives, eaten at nice fancy restaurants once in a while, and gone on nice holidays. We probably would not want to be ridiculed for these simple personal choices.

On the other hand, I have a feeling the personal attacks on Ms Tin, while unfair per se, are reflective of a genuine doubt about her capabilities. Her interview answers have been terrible to say the least. Her life story, especially her older powerful husband, raises many questions about her true abilities.

It is nice to meet Joshua here in Chefchaouen.

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It was a good trip in Morocco. I did not see many highlights of the country but I experienced true hospitality and generosity. I also had several good meals, particularly breakfasts, and had the chance to meet Joshua for a while.

It was a good idea to try hitchhiking. Both my hitchhiking experiences have been fantastic. I can think of two main reasons. First, I see and experience genuine kindness and goodness of people. As I have written in many places, it makes us happy to care for others and to be cared for by others. The second main reason is that hitchhiking surprises me. Most of our best travel experiences happen when something good surprises us. By hitchhiking without a solid plan, I inevitably chance upon new places and meet new people. Not all are particularly remarkable of course, but the town of Cahir in Ireland and the farmland of Morocco’s Middle Atlas region were both beautiful in themselves and as surprising new places.

Each language is a key to a whole new world. My broken French gave me the opportunity to meet and have a functional conversation with Driss, among many other Moroccans. I am glad I can speak a little French, but I think I should work on it so I can travel effectively in the Francophone world. It is for the same reason that I want to travel in China, where I can do more than just gawk at sights and point clumsily at things.

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I must first note that I have become quite preoccupied with recording my thoughts down. In Singapore I don’t feel the same urge, probably because my time in Singapore does not feel as precious as my time here, and consequently my thoughts in Singapore appear more mundane than the thoughts I have here. In reality, however, I am not having major epiphanies here, unlike everyone’s favourite fat UCLA blonde. The other reason must be that I don’t talk much to people here, especially when travelling, and I don’t want my thoughts to disappear into a black hole without even making someone else pause for a second to consider.

Right now I have some thoughts about the English language in Flanders. Much ink and vitriol has been spilt and spattered about the language situation in Belgium, of which I have read much. Flemings are unhappy that Walloons are reluctant to learn Dutch and often choose not to whereas French is taught in all Flemish schools. The Frenchification of Brussels is also a sore point and the consequent Frenchification of Flemish areas surrounding Brussels (Sint-Genesius-Rode, Linkebeek, Zaventem) is even more touchy. The Brussels-Halle-Vilvoorde electoral district is obviously another big point of political debate. Anyway my point now is not to discuss this.

As an English speaker living in Flanders, I am less than comfortable in my dealings with Flemings. I am usually extra polite and I also do not go out of my way to chat with them, because I am not sure if they are happy speaking English. The internationalisation of Leuven is also a minor issue in Leuven, with the many foreigners living in the city who don’t speak Dutch.

However, for the most part, English is viewed quite favourably by the Flemish people. I think most of them are proud that they are able to speak good English and have no qualms speaking in English, even with fellow Flemings when there is a non-Flemish person in the group. I have heard of unpleasant encounters but never had any myself. I think they recognise that the Dutch-speaking world is tiny on global terms and they are also fairly global in their outlook. Another reason is that many of them grew up with English as part of their lives in a small way – movies, TV, songs and the Internet in particular. Movies and television shows are not dubbed but subtitled. Almost all the music they listen to is in English. It is not uncommon for advertisement slogans and store names to use English idioms and puns.

Train from Belgrade to Sarajevo, 110411 1344, after entering Bosnia and Herzegovina
I am in Bosnia and Herzegovina. It is pretty amazing when I let it sink in. This is the country that was torn by civil war in my youth. The train ride is not particularly scenic and I have not talked to people on board, but I think Sarajevo should be a lovely city.

2011-05-05T03:08:00.002+08:00

As you may or may not know, coffee, beer and tea are, in that order, my three most beloved beverages. However, Coca-Cola may have supplanted tea in the coveted third spot. I have hardly had any tea since coming to Europe.

I have raved extensively (although not on this blog) on the wonders of Belgian beer. I have also sampled beer from many other countries. Beer is almost always cheaper in Europe than in Singapore and I am not reluctant to spend on it because of the sunk opportunity costs.

Coffee in western Europe, on the other hand, is more expensive and far less enjoyable than in Singapore. In the Balkan region, however, the countless serving methods of strong Turkish-style brews had me pumped with caffeine throughout much of the trip. They were cheap as well, ranging from about SGD 0.50 in Albania and Kosovo to no more than SGD 2 in big city cafes. While I do not drink much coffee in Belgium, I have a little stash of Melaka white coffee, and also have the privilege of free (watery) coffee at the international student lounge.

My main point in this post, however, is to record the strange pricing of Coca-Cola in school. The school cafeteria sells a 330ml can for €1,00 and a 500ml bottle for €1,30. In the very same cafeteria, one vending machine sells cans at €1,10 each and strangest of all, another machine has bottles at €1,00 each, easily the cheapest option. Finally a vending machine in the law faculty itself sells cans at €0,80.

2011-03-15T15:25:00.003+08:00

Hitchhiking alone has brought me further out of my comfort zone than ever before, at least in the recreation and travelling department. (Exams and field camp are not really in my comfort zone either.) Motorcycling, cycling and cycle touring, windsurfing, kitesurfing and snowboarding were all new and exciting experiences, but they were basically physical and scared me, if at all, in a thrilling, roller-coaster-ride way. Hitchhiking scared me at a deeper level, asking me questions about my independence and confidence in the world. It squarely targeted my insecurities about meeting new people, asking for help, and taking care of myself. Travelling alone before this was a good start, but hitchhiking, and alone no less, is a big step forward for me, not only in my travelling experience but in my overall personal growth in life.

2011-01-03T20:08:00.002+08:00

I am filled with anticipation, excitement and a dreadful thrill as I prepare to leave. I have come to realise that this experience is not so much about six months on exchange, six months in Europe, or six glorious months travelling and not studying, as it is about six months alone. The reality that I will have no known family and friends to rely on for support for the next six months is beginning to hit home. A semester living and studying abroad is all fun and good and is what I signed up for, but I think I will remember it for life as the semester I was alone.

I made preparations alone, and have extensive plans to travel alone, but am I really ready and happy to arrive alone on a cold winter night in a city where I know no one (and don't even have permanent accommodation)? Rationally, this is for the better, because I must leave my comfortable shell to meet new people and experience a new life, and also because one learns much more about oneself and about life alone. Yet fear and dread loom heavily in my heart.

They really shouldn't. I concluded while in JC that friends are a weakness and a form of attachment we should try to overcome - a somewhat Buddhist view of things. I still think so, but have over the years grown more indulgent of this weakness. Nevertheless, I then began to spend more time alone and build up emotional strength in times of solitude, starting by forbidding myself from fiddling with and pretending to use my mobile phone when alone. Soon I regularly ate alone and walked around Orchard alone, helped by my circumstance in a class with mostly different subject combinations from mine.

This continued during NS when I was posted to a small vocation with a small branch on an offshore island, where there was often no one else from the branch in camp. Night shift work was the zenith of this "solitude training", where for all of four months I hardly interacted with a fellow human being beyond the checkout counter. By university I found that I often preferred to be alone than with company, a realisation that was confirmed when I travelled alone for short periods.

Is living, studying and travelling alone for six months the same? I am ready to find out.

2010-12-28T20:23:00.002+08:00

Gilad Shalit's video in captivity (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rUR5HIHkYUs) resonated deeply with me. I take no position on the Israel-Palestine issue, being insufficiently schooled in the details of the conflict, but Shalit's story of how his father and brothers visited him at his base reminded me very strongly of how my father and brother attended my enlistment and graduations from basic training and specialist training. In particular, on my graduation from BFSC at Pasir Laba on 26 August 2006 I showed them around the camp and took pictures with military monuments, much like Shalit did. While I often think myself as unfortunate to have to serve NS, I am fortunate enough to hopefully never get involved in hostility and conflict.

2010-12-26T21:44:00.003+08:00

I enjoy hypothetical moral dilemmas, so if you think of one or, even better, are facing one in your life, ask me about it. Come to think of it, a lot of the time I spend with my old friend Kevin Lim is spent discussing moral dilemmas, whether they are primarily moral issues or social/ political/ economic/ personal issues with a moral dimension. Anyway, I encountered one today, and here it is, with a little embellishment to make it interesting.

Say you bought something from a hawker stall and the assistant hands you excess change. Easy, right? You return what is not yours.

But picture this scene. The assistant is relentlessly getting scolded and ordered by her boss, who is working within the same stall (cooking, perhaps). The boss nags and nitpicks the poor assistant on everything - have you done this, why haven't you done that, can you be quicker - while throwing in a few personal jibes - slow, stupid. The assistant is a middle-aged or slightly senior lady and appears to be under considerable stress. In those few seconds, your mind concocts a detailed back story of a single mother with rebellious teenage children about to start on expensive tertiary education. Or perhaps a former stallholder who could no longer keep up with increasing rent and is now forced to work for someone else. Or maybe both stories woven together.

No one has noticed, but you realise that she has given you 4 two dollar notes instead of three. If you return it to her, the boss lurking in the background will surely notice, and you know her bad day will get worse.

Do you return the two dollars to its rightful earner, or do you wrongfully keep it to give the poor lady a break for the day?

2010-11-27T10:09:00.004+08:00

Those who know me well will know my general disdain for the practice of law, despite my lack of actual experience with practice. It came about largely because of LAWR, which to date remains the only subject I ever scored below a B- for.

For this reason I regret taking two substantive subjects that were quite close to the tip of the legal spear: tax and competition. The "policy" and "economics" in the respective module titles misled me into them. I loved the other two subjects I took, however, because they were well away from the business end of the law.

Yet now I am considering plunging into a very hard practical subject when the opportunity arises - legal ethics. I am fascinated by the social perception and position of the legal profession, especially by the stark contrast between the narcissistic glorification of the profession by its own members and the general distrust of lawyers by the public. Why do people hate lawyers or laugh at lawyers, yet are impressed when someone gets into law school? Why are people so reluctant to spend on a lawyer?

2010-10-28T15:43:00.001+08:00

Faithful readers of this blog deserve a bit more, I thought, so I started a Tumblr named kraikk. This blog will, of course, live on.

2010-08-15T21:24:00.003+08:00

I started myself on quite a number of new skills in the vacation just past. I spent a couple of days learning to surf tiny waves on a beginner longboard, learnt kitesurfing up to the point of being able to ride the shortest distance, and learnt and improved on windsurfing such that I am now able to sail a simple course on a beginner board in light wind. Kevin and I also messed around with a makeshift skimboard before our kitesurfing lessons.

Of these I reckon windsurfing probably holds the most recreational potential for me, despite being the hardest in my (and most people's) opinion. Surfing is obviously out of the question. The other three are doable in Singapore. Kitesurfing equipment is expensive and kitesurfing requires a critical wind speed to keep the kite up, which is uncommon in Singapore, although one can plane in lighter winds than in windsurfing. The small beaches in Singapore make it difficult to launch kites, and the fact that good wind in Singapore usually comes before a storm means that one risks being caught by strong gusts. Skimboarding in Singapore comes in three second bursts, which are not much fun. As for windsurfing, light winds are perfectly fine for me at this beginning non-planing stage, and its shallow learning curve means that I will be challenged for a long time to come.

I did not learn scuba diving, unfortunately. With all the expense that has gone to acquiring the above skills, I am reconsidering taking the course anytime soon. One thing I have always fancied is freediving - in fact it was a spot of simple "freediving" at Ko Rawi to about five metres depth that got me interested in scuba diving. I also dove a few metres down to swim beside the whale sharks at Donsol, but the excitement of that prevented me from staying underwater for long. Perhaps I should properly get started on this sport, although I will definitely learn scuba diving at some point or other.

The last thing I would like to mention is caving or spelunking with Aaron at Sagada. I was utterly terrified at points, and the whole activity was a great thrill, even though the caves we explored are the simple tourist sort. Cave exploration is probably one of those things I have to admit is beyond me.

2010-08-09T15:09:00.006+08:00

Animals

Animals are generally not treated with much civility or respect in the Philippines. One might disagree if one considered only the very common sight of young men carrying their beautiful cockerels around, stroking and caressing them with all the tenderness of a lover, and whispering a sweet nothing or two to them. Chances are, however, that such royally pampered roosters are doomed to enter the deadly arena of a cockfight.

Cockfighting is perhaps one of those aspects of Filipino culture that is overly romanticised in foreign literature to an extent unrecognisable by locals. Guidebooks often speak of the passion Filipinos have for the sport, of how entire villages gather for the weekly cockfights and wage their livelihoods on them. My impression, on the other hand, was that the sport appealed to a very enthusiastic but rather small minority. Women seem to be completely uninvolved; there were none at the cock pit we visited and most women do not know directions to the local cock pit. The average man is also entirely uninterested. Several locals disapproved of the sport. I imagine it is rather like bullfighting in Spain or sumo in Japan: widely associated with the country only for its uniqueness but in reality no more than a niche activity.

The cockfight itself is quite a spectacle. The battling cocks are brought out and allowed to strut individually for a few moments, followed by some gentle sparring with other non-combatant cocks. The spectators observe the birds' aggression, speed and physique and start to place bets by signalling or shouting to the bookmakers' staff (in a manner reminiscent of exchange trading floors). After some more posturing, the cocks are armed with a large blade on one foot. Armed cockfights rarely last more than a minute, whereas the unarmed cockfights more prevalent in the provinces and in other countries are protracted and exhausting affairs. It is difficult to decide which are more cruel.

Finally the fighters meet for the first time. Held by their owners, the are brought within pecking distance and allowed one strike with the beak. This is perhaps the most significant indicator of superiority, if any, and accordingly the betting rises to a crescendo. Then all is suddenly silent when the cocks are dropped to the ground, and the fight begins.

The birds usually go at it once they are released. Sometimes they may spend a tense minute strutting and considering each other. The most dramatic move is when they try to intimidate the opponent by flaring their beautiful feathers around the neck. It is quite a sight when both cocks do so at the same time.

Once the fight actually starts it is short and brutal. A flash of feathers, a cloud of dust, a spray of blood, and it is over. A single stab with the blade is usually enough to win the fight, for the victim is greatly weakened by the loss of blood and usually dies not long after. The winner lives to fight another day, while to loser is invited to dinner.

The slaughter of animals is a fairly common business in the provinces. Mornings are marked by squeals of dying pigs, and one often sees live pigs carried about town with their legs tied to a pole. My memory is vividly stamped by an image of a freshly slaughtered carabao in the centre of Banaue, greeting me the moment I arrived off the bus.

Donsol

Donsol is often cited as an encouraging example of eco-tourism in the Philippines. Whale sharks used to be hunted in the area. But a local managed to produce and publish a video of some whale sharks some ten years ago, which led to a boom in tourism. Visitors now come from all over the world for the unique opportunity of swimming with whale sharks. When in season, few places in the world can match the rich waters of Donsol Bay in its frequency of whale shark sightings - they are virtually guaranteed. The locals realised the sharks earned more for them alive than dead.

Personally, the whale sharks were one of the best parts of my trip. The feeling of closeness to such beautiful creatures was incredible. I think this sensation of vulnerable proximity to the greatness of nature is something we all seek and enjoy. It is why we seek out spectacular scenery and why adventure sports like surfing and skydiving are so popular. It is also why I really enjoyed exploring caves and rice terraces on the trip.

2010-07-29T16:07:00.005+08:00

Places

There can be little doubt that the Philippines is a remarkably beautiful country. Most travellers to the country are there specifically to explore its various natural wonders and then gather to gush about them. Palawan is one place that travellers are particularly prone to breathlessly wax lyrical about. Wherever you are in the Philippines, you will meet someone who cannot stop talking about Palawan.

Unfortunately for me, I did not go to Palawan. I visited four main places of some natural beauty: the Bicol region, the Cordilleras, Aurora province, and Puerto Galera. The cities (by my own rough definition of a city) I visited are Manila, Legazpi, Laoag, Vigan, Baguio, Solano, San Jose, and Cabanatuan. The towns I visited or at least stopped briefly in are Donsol, Paoay, Batac, Baler, San Luis, Tarlac, Lagawe, and Puerto Galera.

Bicol region
Mount Mayon is the main highlight of this area (other than the whale sharks). It is a perfect cone, the sort very young children come up with when asked to draw a volcano. The view of the volcano from Donsol Bay on a clear day, perhaps laced with a thin cloud or two, is quite something to behold.

Aurora province
The main (perhaps only) tourist attraction of this sleepy province is the beach at Baler, which draws surfers with its smooth breaks in the right season. The beach is a pleasant sight, but not breathtaking. Thanks to my very kind hosts, I visited several spots of local interest that are probably not enticing enough to draw tourists. Ermita Hill is a small hill where locals sought refuge from a tsunami. It is now marked by a large cross at the summit. From the hill one can see Baler from across the bay. I noted that the park area on the hill was unusually well maintained and clean, compared to other parks in the country.

I also visited Culayan Falls, known locally as the small waterfall. The big waterfall is Ditumabo Falls. I visited four waterfalls in the Philippines and Culayan Falls had by far the cleanest water of all. The water is cool and almost perfectly clear, and the pool is waist to chest deep, which makes this place a good choice for families. Finally, I went to the ex-largest tree in Asia. It had been dethroned due to decay. Nevertheless, it remains large enough to walk through.

Puerto Galera
Puerto Galera town itself and Sabang (where we stayed) are not much to look at. We visited Tamaraw Falls, which is worth a few pictures, and Talipanan Beach, which is probably the nicest beach in the area. The best views, however, were probably of the sea from various points along the winding road along the coast, which was itself a great pleasure to ride.

Cities
It is difficult to like any of the cities or towns very much. The roads are dominated by noisy jeepneys and tricycles belching black fumes. The streets and pavements are caked by a thick layer of filth and littered with trash. The buildings are greying, not because of age but because of the polluted atmosphere. Even the most beautiful historical sights are marred by the telephone and power cables that are strung haphazardly all over the city. And in some provincial towns the final squeal of pigs to the slaughter greets the arriving traveller, but not before the foul stench of carabao flesh hits his nose.

The Cordilleras
This brings me to the most spectacular scenery I have ever set eyes upon: the rice terraces of the Cordilleras. I went from Bontoc to Sagada, back to Bontoc and then on to Banaue and Batad. Bontoc and Banaue are the capitals of Mountain Province and Ifugao province respectively and are fairly busy small towns. It was in Banaue that I was unpleasantly greeted by a makeshift slaughterhouse in the town square, as described in the preceding paragraph. Nevertheless, both towns have their fair share of beautiful mountains and rice terraces. It is only in Banaue that one can find true mud-walled terraces of the ancient UNESCO World Heritage Site variety.

Sagada is a lovely township in a pine forest - the setting could pass as an alpine resort. The temperature is perfect. The rice terraces take some walking to reach, but are simply stunning, especially from Mount Kiltepan. It was also here that Aaron and I ventured into the blackness of two limestone caves.

Batad turned out not to be a major highlight for me on this trip for various reasons, including the very short time I had there. However, it would easily take top spot if I were to rank the best views and sights. Batad is a tiny village set in a rice terrace amphitheatre. The rice terraces form the inside of a massive half-bowl facing a mountain on the opposite site. Huts are perched all over the terraces. There are no vehicles in Batad, giving it a silent and meditative mood.

2010-07-22T13:59:00.010+08:00

This is the first part of what I hope will be a three part series on my trip to the Philippines. This part is titled "People", and the other two will be "Places" and "Animals". At least that is my current intention.

People

Locals
I met a gentleman on a night van from Cabanatuan to Baler. He pointed out that it would be impossible for me to find a place to stay at one in the morning and offered a room in his home in San Luis for the night. I was initially unsure but decided to put my faith in humanity yet again.

All the faith in the world could not have prepared me for the hospitality I would receive over the next few days. I was treated like one of their extended family, and was hosted to dinner with them and again with their neighbours. I was brought on a tour of the area, including a picnic by the cool clear waters of Culayan Falls. It was a fantastic experience. I regret not insisting on repaying them.

Generally, the locals impressed with their eagerness to help. Archie of San Jose, Nueva Ecija, stands out in my mind. He went out of his way to show me the way around, and even offered to pay for my tricycle ride.

Other Travellers
The travellers that left the deepest impression on me were Stefan and Anna, a couple from Feldkirch, Vorarlberg, Austria. Vorarlberg is the wealthiest region in Austria and is situated in the extreme west of the country, bordering Switzerland and Liechtenstein. Stefan used to work in Liechtenstein, like many other Austrians from that region. They were on the tail end of a half year trip through Russia, Mongolia, China and the Philippines.

Anyway, Aaron and I met them on a cold rainy afternoon just after arriving in Sagada. They stopped us on the street to suggest that we stay at the Olahbinan where they were staying, and it was an excellent recommendation. They were always friendly, open, easygoing and unassuming. After Aaron left Sagada, I hiked with them to Mount Kiltepan and the Bokong Falls, including a brief off track excursion during which Anna insisted throughout that we were not lost. Not once did I feel left out or was I made acutely aware of the fact that I was with a couple. Yet I enjoyed observing their comfortable interactions with each other, even when the situation was not ideal. I would like to think that Nicole and I are similarly comfortable, and appear so to other people, but we still have much to learn from Stefan and Anna.

This allows me to skip to Chris, the German solo traveller from Rostock we met in Puerto Galera. I believe that Nicole and I outwardly portrayed an easygoing young couple, such that he approached us to chat, and that we did not disappoint his hopes for some company in a busy but rather impersonal resort town.

Back to Sagada, where I also met several Filipino travellers. Enzo and Carla were another young couple who were very nice to take care of me when I had quite a bit too much to drink. I was very fortunate to be in the company of such good people when I decided to be stupid and irresponsible. Stefan and Anna were also very helpful when I was enduring a dreadful hangover. Don and Alvin were two fathers who turned up with their children for one night, and surprised us all by partaking in the merry sins of youth once their kids were fast asleep.

After Sagada, I met Alice on the hike from Batad Junction to Batad and hiked with her for a little less than two hours. It was good to have an extended one-to-one conversation where voices and thoughts did not get lost in a noisy hubbub. She was an English language teacher from Scotland, taking a half year break to travel in Southeast Asia.

An interesting point is that we never asked for each other's names. It was not until much later that evening when the guests of Rita's Inn gathered on the porch that we realised this. A Filipino lady was somewhat shocked and considered it basic courtesy to always get a person's name first before acquainting oneself. Her American boyfriend John disagreed and said, "We're just travellers passing each other by."

I must agree with him. The rest of the evening was spent listening to a Polish couple on a year long round the world trip regale us with tales of their odyssey through Oceania. They might have had more travel experiences than anyone else I met on my trip (for example, couch surfing on a houseboat in Vanuatu), but somehow I felt they had less to offer than the other people I met. That night I really did feel like no more than a traveller passing by.

It is a common criticism of backpacking culture that backpackers usually end up meeting other backpackers and not really getting to know the country's culture. I think it is quite true. There is nothing wrong with it, however, and it is often easier and more enjoyable to hang out with like-minded people. One can also learn much about the rest of the world this way, and not just about one country. Nevertheless, a good balance ought to be struck.

Before I leave this topic I should mention Jane, the Singaporean solo traveller we met in Donsol. Experienced and worldly though she was, Aaron and I agreed that she was everything a Singaporean traveller should not be.

Aaron
We had our troubles, but travelling with him was mostly pleasant. I concluded from this trip that travelling is best either alone or with one companion. When travelling alone, one is more open to new people and experiences. I found myself a lot more outgoing and daring when alone than with Aaron or Nicole. This is probably because there is no comfort zone of familiar people to fall back into. On the contrary, the comfort zone is provided by new friends, because even the company of a stranger is more comfortable than complete solitude. In seeking out this comfort zone one gets closer to the heart of a country and its people.

People also tend to be more welcoming and accommodating towards solo travellers. This could be for purely logistical reasons - it is usually easier to include one more person in any party or endeavour than two or three more. For example, the family in San Luis could not have accommodated any more than one person (myself), and they simply would not have offered if I was not alone.

A solo traveller is also easier to acquaint with (the focus is on one person) and usually has a more flexible schedule. He is less intimidating because he is in no position to judge anyone else, whereas if you try to make friends with a group, who knows what they will say about you in their rooms. No wonder then, that more people are travelling alone these days.

2010-06-30T14:09:00.003+08:00

As I struggle to enter the fifth stage of the Kubler-Ross model with regard to the lost bag and money, I also begin to appreciate that before the incident, I was on a very long winning streak in life. Things had been going swimmingly well for the longest time. Year two was a near-perfect year. The misfortunes of this academic year were so slight as to be almost laughable - a cancelled flight, an internship rejection, the DUO award rejection. On the other hand, so many good things happened - a financial award, exchange to my first choice of school, solid results with reasonable effort, a law journal position, two very good holidays, two good internships - that it should seem perfectly fair that something bad eventually happens. The unfair thing is that it also happened to Nicole.

2010-06-25T16:37:00.004+08:00

In life, we often question and doubt our choices. But sometimes, we know we've made the right choice. I refer, of course, to my exchange destination.

"A beer lover's heaven on earth" -Associated Press

"Leuven is truly a beer city" -wikitravel

"Leuven is arguably the beer capital of the world" -TravelBite

The best indicators come from the welcome brochure at http://www.kuleuven.be/admissions/pdf/living.pdf

A Stella Artois ad on the second page entices students to "Visit our brewery and obtain your first diploma!", whatever that means. And in the brochure:

"Most students will not need any encouragement to try out the hundreds of delicious Belgian beers ... Belgian beer is a heavenly liquid which Belgians have perfected thanks to centuries of intense contemplation by silent orders of monks. Beer is the very essence of the land, the blood of the nation, heaven served in a variety of peculiarly shaped receptacles."

2010-06-21T15:01:00.001+08:00

I had a fantastic experience travelling in the Philippines, but some two weeks after my return I am still mourning the loss a piece of Nicole's baggage. When I can get over that and into a happier mood, I will try to recount the journey on this monthly blog.

I have told those close to me that my greatest fear is old age. In my present youth I am vainly trying to collect as many skills as possible; to force into my muscles as much memory as they can possibly absorb, for in no time I will find that new skills present tall hurdles. Even now I find myself slower and less nimble than I was a few years ago. I hope it is only my imagination.

I would like to learn as many sports as possible to a minimum level at which I will find the sport enjoyable enough to take a few hours off occasionally to pursue. This bare minimum can perhaps be benchmarked by my skill level in tennis or basketball.

I am happy with whatever ability I have in:
Pool/ snooker, tennis, basketball, swimming, running, cycling, soccer, baseball/ softball, badminton, table tennis, floorball

I exceed my minimum but would like to improve in:
Piano, motorcycling, driving

I have tried but have yet to reach any minimum standard in:
Windsurfing, surfing, guitar

I would like to try:
Everything, especially expensive status sports like kitesurfing, scuba diving, snowboarding, skiing.

2010-05-09T10:59:00.000+08:00

Have you ever wondered what "Upper" means in the context of roads? Upper Serangoon, Upper Thomson, Upper Bukit Timah are a few of the more well-known examples. In the same vein, what does "Lower" mean?

It does not refer to the latitude of a place. Lower Kent Ridge Road is north of Kent Ridge Road and Lower Seletar Reservoir is north of Upper Seletar. However, many of the major Upper places are further north eg. Upper Thomson, Upper Bukit Timah, Upper Changi, Upper Paya Lebar, Upper Serangoon. Nevertheless, many roads are named "North" or "South", which more clearly refer to their position, so it does not make sense to use "Upper" to indicate latitude.

Perhaps it refers to the distance from the city centre. This is certainly valid for most of the places, and very striking when we zoom in on the "Upper" roads in the heart of the city: Upper Pickering Street, Upper Circular Road, and Upper Cross Street. These are no doubt right in the centre of the modern city, but a little further from mouth of the Singapore River than their namesakes. One imagines such a conversation when the river mouth was a bustling port:

"Deliver his cargo of tea to Lee's warehouse."
"Where's that?"
"Just a little further up Pickering Street."

On the other hand, Upper Aljunied Road and Upper Bedok Road appear closer to town than their respective "ordinary" roads.

This leads to the best explanation. The "Upper" areas happen to be further away from the city because the suburban areas are on higher ground. "Upper" must refer to higher ground!

I feel your indignance (you must have just muttered "duh"). But it is not so obvious when looking at Upper Changi Road relative to Changi Road, or Upper Serangoon Road compared to Serangoon Road. But it is very obvious comparing Lower Kent Ridge Road and Kent Ridge Road. The clearest indicator was Upper Bedok Road, a small dead end road that leads up a small steep slope in Simpang Bedok. Upper Bukit Timah is noticeable in this respect as well.

2010-04-24T02:32:00.002+08:00

I rather enjoyed following the air travel disruption caused by the volcanic ash cloud over Europe. Not in a mean way, but in seeing how people worked their way through the difficulty. I often wonder what the world would be like without some of our most common conveniences, especially those that we rely on tremendously. It should not be a problem, should it? Powered flight was first achieved barely a century ago, and even more important inventions such as telephones, televisions and computers came into widespread use only much later. I am confident humanity can get by without any of these. The only question is how.

More broadly, I have decided that I do and shall continue to maintain a faith in the strength of humanity: in its resilience, moral character and goodness. I learnt much about the essential goodness of people when a Malaysian man who spoke no English drove at a snail's pace for several kilometres pulling a bicycle along, even though he was late to pick his kids from school. It is a faith I hope will not diminish but strengthen when I travel and study on exchange in the next few years.

2010-04-11T01:09:00.002+08:00

I would do anything
I'd beg, I'd steal, I'd die
To watch you sing "In These Arms" tonight

2010-03-26T13:37:00.002+08:00

I often worry about how the rapidly escalating cost of property in Singapore will affect my future. I have always had, and still hold on to, a target of eventually owning freehold land in Singapore. But while I remain stuck in a university library trying to draft a pretend trust deed, the days come and go and property prices continue their ride up some endless stairway to heaven.

Of late I have had more prices to worry about: those of cars, or more particularly, of COEs. This is perhaps harder to explain. I have no plans, short or long term, to purchase a car. My vehicular intentions and fantasies generally involve two wheeled rear wheel driven beasts pulsating and vibrating between my... well, anyway, taking public transport to school every day this semester has not been too bad. Yet for some reason rising car prices bug me, even as motorcycle prices remain fairly stable. Maybe it is a fear that motorcycle COE prices will increase when people priced out of cars turn to bikes. I think there is also a small part of me that realistically expects or hopes to settle down with a small family car some time in the distant future.

On an entirely unrelated note, I wonder why restaurants give themselves names that sound like open mobilisation exercise code names. White Rabbit, Wild Rocket, Orange Lantern, Wild Honey. Report to your Mobilisation Centre immediately.

2010-02-25T22:32:00.002+08:00

Resorts World Sentosa received a fair bit of flak for opening in spits and spurts and dribs and drabs. A half open casino leading to huge crowds, a theme park with no operating rides making arrangements difficult for tour agents and keeping tourists away, fumbling croupiers upsetting gamblers: these were but some of the "teething problems" faced at the resort.

But I say RWS deserves kudos for daring to open early. Too often in this country we see organisations, particularly the Government, holding back just to make sure everything is in order. All sorts of safety checks and load tests are done while people wait years before they can enjoy new facilities and infrastructure. The Circle Line comes immediately to mind. Already substantially delayed because of the Nicoll Highway collapse, I wonder what is now holding back the opening of the rest of Circle Line Phase I from Paya Lebar to Bartley. The stations have been ready for almost a year. Open them already!

NB: They are expected to open on April 17. I'm quite excited.

2010-01-24T10:21:00.002+08:00

Put your son apprentice to a shoemaker, there is little doubt of his learning to make a pair of shoes; but send him to study the law, it is at least twenty to one if ever he makes such proficiency as will enable him to live by the business.
Adam Smith (The Wealth of Nations Book One Chapter X Part I)

As I struggle to be the one in twenty, Wikitravel provides a welcome respite from the daily grind with information on travelling to all sorts of places in this wonderful world. That is one of the things I like best about Wikitravel: it is extremely comprehensive and covers the most godforsaken shitholes in the world. It is also very up to date. As someone who is not an experienced traveller, I also appreciate it for its precise, step-by-step details - see, for example, the guide on entering Gaza. (The things I like about Wikitravel are basically the things I like about Wikipedia.)

And of course, as a user edited site, Wikitravel is full of wonderful quirky notes, sometimes resulting from one editor adding his own experience to someone else's. For example, a couple of editors had this to say of a resort at Nuweiba: 'Soft Beach's management seemed to be in flux recently, and basic facilities were in disrepair. The cabin hotel has one bathroom of around 4 stalls each per gender for up to 50 guests, which were in a major state of decrepitude in April 2009. Likewise, the cabins had rodents, uncomfortable and short sleeping mats, and large un-mended holes in the mosquito nets.
But smoke their weed, snort their blow or absorb Achmed's special rectally and the surroundings will be the least of your worries.'

2010-01-03T19:42:00.005+08:00

Some said you were purple
But I thought you looked blue
One thing's for sure
You were a great friend through and through

Farewell, my true blue friend.

2009-12-03T19:52:00.002+08:00

Intoxication is a wonderful feeling. Not inebriation - that is helpless, mindless despair. But intoxication - this - feels like the sky is going to fall down on the world, but a gap will open up for me just before it hits the ground, so that I may prance free among the fluffy white clouds.

2009-11-22T11:38:00.002+08:00

The recent study period has brought into sharp relief the advantages and disadvantages of not using a computer for revision. I have been traversing great distances in the library to obtain reading material. The law reports and latest journals are spread out across the entire first floor which extends to a different block. The older journals are on the second floor, and I am usually situated on the third floor because it is nearest the more pleasant restroom and I use the toilet more often than I have to get up to look for cases. All this has meant a fair bit of walking around and getting distracted by such curiosities as the Military Court of Appeal reports and the Supreme Court annual reports.

The hefty law reports and compiled journals also do much to detract from focused revision. All sorts of interesting reads may be found in any volume, from Andrew Phang JA's exhortation to the legal profession in David Rasif's case to my company law tutor's impassioned and, at one point, graphic defence of section 377A of the Penal Code. Not all of it is useless, however: I have included extracurricular information to some success in examinations and assignments. Nevertheless the return on investment in this manner of studying, if it can be so termed, is very low.

I was therefore somewhat tempted by advertisements for notebook computers for less than a thousand dollars. But I quickly reminded myself that using a computer would mean searching high and low (mostly low) for a power source each time I wanted to study for a sustained period. This has become quite obviously harder these days, and I often see poor sods walking up and down the aisles and then leaving in disappointment.

Just this morning I read Janadas Devan's piece in the Sunday Times on reading online (Is the Internet killing our ability to read? p. 37) . He cited a study that found that only 16 per cent of people read an online text in the order it appeared, with most people skipping around. Another found that people switched to a new task online every 3 minutes on average and took 23 minutes to return to abandoned tasks. An authority on neuroscience (although no indication of a study is given for this point) said that we read 20-30 per cent more slowly on screen than in print. I would probably do even worse than these averages. I think I will continue taking notes by hand and reading printed law reports and journals, even if it means stalking the aisles of the library for a few years to come.

2009-11-03T08:40:00.002+08:00

A sobering thought occurred while I was discussing the impending examinations with good old Wham Aaron: a B+ average will have you knocking on the door of the Dean's List, but a B- average will put you squarely in the lower half of the class. Study hard friends.

2009-10-31T00:41:00.004+08:00

I was randomly looking through the Women's Charter when my conscience was deeply offended by section 166, which reads: "An appeal shall lie from any order made by the Director under this Part to the Minister whose decision shall be final and shall not be questioned in any court."

Does this sound morally objectionable to you? My very green and unlearned instinct still believed that judicial review should always be available as a last resort, such that the laws passed by the legislature and the actions of the executive are always subject to the judiciary's independent inquiry. I was naturally displeased to find that Parliament could simply gift the Minister, a member of the executive, conclusive powers of discretion. Parliament could then theoretically pass entire statutes that gave the Prime Minister the final say in all decisions regarding the statute. To a party with a supermajority in the legislature this might seem an attractive option, especially if the judiciary subscribes to a different political ideal.

Intrigued, I read a bit more into this area of administrative law and discovered myself to be very much an ignorant sophomore. These clauses are known as "ouster clauses" and appear in many Acts in Singapore, including section 60(3) of the Education Act, section 13(2) of the Free Trade Zones Act, section 12(3) of the Housing Developers (Control and Licensing) Act, and section 25(13) of the Residential Property Act.

English law has seen much debate over their validity. The seminal case of Anisminic v Foreign Compensation Commission found a way to question one such administrative decision by finding that the decision of the commission given seemingly unquestionable authority was not a "determination", which was the word used in the statute. This decision is, according to Endicott, based on questionable authority. The Singapore position is nevertheless similar, with cases generally stating that ouster clauses only exclude review of errors within jurisdiction but do not preclude review of nullities. I am certain we will learn more of this in the public law course.

But for now, how is this relevant? We see similar evasive techniques being employed by the Supreme Court in reviewing decisions of the Strata Titles Board in the raft of cases that has reached it in recent years. The High Court may only review points of law decided by the Board and not points of fact. The Court of Appeal held in Ng Eng Ghee v Mamata Kapildev (the first one) that ex facie errors of law may be reviewed. These include errors on issues of evidence such as admissibility and burden of proof. It can be observed that the line between points of law and fact becomes very fine.

The Court of Appeal was of the view that broadening the right of appeal on points of law was "beneficial" and would "assist the integration of the tribunal system with the general machinery of justice". This is if one believes that judicial review is essential to the rule of law (another hot topic these days). Endicott suggests that judicial review is not a natural consequence of the rule of law. Parliament is sovereign, and Parliament should be able to delegate decision making as it pleases within the confines of the Constitution. Decision making powers are usually delegated where specialised technical expertise is desirable and to reduce the burden on the courts. There is no reason why courts are better placed than tribunals or the executive in making certain specialised decisions. Broadening the right of appeal would also defeat the purpose of lightening the courts' workload.

The opposing argument I can think of regards independence. The judiciary should be independent, whereas the executive is entitled to pursue its own political gains. Is this acceptable within a designated jurisdiction? I don't know.

2009-10-18T14:48:00.002+08:00

Living in Southeast Asia, we might be wise to pursue activities, pleasures, and hobbies that this part of the world is known for, in the interest of maximising our money. For example, a Singaporean whose idea of a great holiday is snowboarding among fluffy white mountains or exploring wineries and vineyards will not find great joy within a budget. She will either have to be fairly wealthy, or limit herself to the occasional trip.

Southeast Asia is a great place for considerable number of passionate pastimes. Unfortunately, some of them are terrible: sex tourism is a thriving trade in this part of the world, causing untold harm to hundreds of thousands of women and children.

Others we can and should consider participating in. Our northern neighbour, for instance, is known as one of the best motorcycling destinations in the world. Motorcycle touring is something I hope to enjoy in the near future.

Another activity is scuba diving. Southeast Asia is home to some of the world's best dive sites. I once expressed an array of irrational concerns about scuba diving when the proposition was tentatively put forth by Nicole. Perhaps I am ready to consider it again. It would be a waste not to explore easily available opportunities, when people from further afield go to some length to take them.

2009-10-02T09:11:00.004+08:00

Of late, the only MLB games available on ESPN have involved the Yankees. The Yankees winning, to be precise. All this makes for rather unhappy viewing. It also seems as if Robinson Cano hits a double everytime I watch. He is one of my preferred Yankees, but I would still much rather watch National League ball or at least a more representative mix of games that involve other teams.

Another little peeve is the use of the word "Singapore" as a demonym: Singapore Grand Prix, Singapore citizen (look in your Singapore passport if you have one), Singapore government. No other country uses the country's name in this way if a demonym is readily available. Grands Prix are Australian, Malaysian, or Chinese. They are attended by French, German, and Japanese citizens. And a search on Google News for "Singapore government" (with the inverted commas) turns up 280 results, while "Singaporean government" turns up 23 old articles. In contrast, there are 27 results for "Malaysia government" and 363 results for "Malaysian government".

Some country's names do not lend themselves nicely to a demonym that rolls smoothly off the tongue - hence "Monaco Grand Prix" instead of "Monegasque Grand Prix" and "New Zealand citizen" instead of "New Zealander citizen" - but I see nothing wrong or awkward about being a "Singaporean citizen" or watching the "Singaporean Grand Prix".

2009-09-13T11:44:00.003+08:00

Here are some lessons from the stock market for small-time retail investors like myself. Perhaps if I become good enough at writing tips I can make a living off it and no longer have to see my money go up in the flames of the market. Most of this information is probably available in some form or other in one of the infinite websites, books, magazines, seminars, and talk shows on investment, so this is a simple compilation more for myself than anyone else. (Then again, this entire blog is probably read only by me.)

Firstly, it is most important to keep in mind the main advantage retail investors have over institutional investors: time. As long as you are not investing to feed your family but for, say, your retirement or the new BMW F800R, you can afford to hold positions for a long time. And in the long term, a growing economy like Singapore's will pretty much deliver.

Therefore, avoid trading but take long positions for the long term. Retail investors will always be several steps behind the professional traders who can profit from market volatility. Don't become one of those who lose money in a bull market by chasing short term or intraday gains.

Buy when everyone is selling and sell when everyone is buying. Remember, you are in this for the long term. Those who bought UOB in March when no one dared to touch anything are laughing all the way to the bank today. It is only the big boys that fear tumbling counters. You are the fearless David. The lower the price goes, all the more you can afford it. Of course, don't buy into companies headed for liquidation.

Generally, the best investments are STI and blue chip shares when the market is in the doldrums. Remember to sell when the mood gets buoyant!

2009-08-07T20:38:00.002+08:00

There are three things all men should be prepared to do if they want to play the chivalrous knight in shining armour saving poor driving damsels in distress who should have just taken a taxi, if I am permitted my first and last sexist comment in this post. These actually apply to men and women alike and can be used to save drivers of either sex, but will primarily be used in saving oneself.

1. Get fuel after running out. This is stupidly simple and requires only a vehicle. A jerry can helps, but most petrol stations should be able to furnish a container of some sort. A funnel is usually necessary, so keep one in your vehicle.

2. Change a car tyre. This is even simpler, because every car carries all the necessary tools, along with complete idiot-proof instructions.

3. Jump start a car. This is the latest addition to my spartan inventory of life skills. It requires jumper cables. If you drive, buy a set and keep them in your vehicle.

Modern vehicles are remarkably reliable, such that a breakdown is likely due to bad luck or laziness, resulting in empty fuel tanks, punctured tyres, or flat batteries. Fortunately, these are probably the only three things that an average person can fix by the roadside without too many tools. So if you drive, learn them now! If you don't, learn them now! Three easy skills to impress unlucky (but hot) ladies rushing for a party. And if you are a lady, don't be fooled by the hero who saves your day, because you can do it too!

2009-08-03T13:29:00.000+08:00

4 years, 160 credits, 40 credits each year. Every year of university should be equally important, right? Wrong. Because of the aggregation of grades, each year gets gradually less important, at least psychologically. In first year, everyone starts on a clean slate. At the end of first year, the grades you receive are all you have. Each subsequent year's results are coloured by the results of preceding years.

This means that earlier results have a more significant impact on one's final class of honours and class rank than the later years, with first year being the most important. This is a counter-intuitive claim that is mathematically false but very true psychologically. I imagine it is a psychological pseudo-Monty Hall or Bertrand's box.

Consider two students. Amycus scores straight As in his first two years and straight Cs in his last two years to graduate with a B average in the middle of his class in the upper division of the second class of honours. His sister Alecto scores straight Cs in her first two years and straight As in her last two to graduate with the exact same rank as her brother.

Which would you prefer? I would surely prefer to undergo Amycus' university experience than Alecto's. At the end of their second year, Alecto had no chance at all of graduating with an A average. It would take a great deal of courage and discipline to score well when the rewards for doing so do not beckon. Amycus, on the other hand, had every chance of graduating at the top of his class when reckoning his prospects after his second year. That he did not is unfortunate, but the glowing promise of the future is far more preferable than the view from a grimy academic pit. In any case, he cruised to a decent result probably without much effort.

This can perhaps be summed up thus: to do well in first year, one needs to do just that: do well. But to do well in the later years, one may need to do extremely well if he had not done so earlier, or he may be able to relax if he had done well earlier. The overall impact of doing well or doing badly shrinks.

2009-08-02T22:14:00.003+08:00

On the 5th of February this year numerous questions on Judas Iscariot were posed on this blog. I am no closer to finding the answers for any of them; on the contrary, many seem to agree that Judas is more saint than traitor, and if he does not deserve canonisation he surely deserves better than eternal damnation.

I think, however, that J.K. Rowling attempted to give Judas' courage a little more recognition through the character of Severus Snape. The parallels are there: Snape and Judas are disciples picked by the teachers they love to betray them and send them to their deaths for a greater good. Only Judas understood Jesus when he said, "What you must do, do it quickly", and only Snape understood when Dumbledore pleaded fearfully on the Astronomy Tower. They are misunderstood and vilified by those around them. Fortunately for Snape he finally gets the recognition and vindication he deserves.

2009-07-05T23:38:00.002+08:00

Professor Tan Cheng Han's response to students getting their knickers in a twist over unfair competition for internships must go down in the books as a classic: "As a law student, I personally did not spend any time as an intern in a Singapore law firm. I valued my precious vacation time and spent it on student activities and sports." I can picture the deans at SMU Law scrambling around and bargaining with law firms for internships for their students, while Prof Tan kicks back with a coffee and a serene smile. We have much to learn from him.

2009-05-30T11:44:00.004+08:00

Google Blogsearch is a useful tool for bored voyeurs like me. It is mildly relieving to learn that there are a fair number of medical school rejects in my school. I think it is a more common phenomenon than I had earlier believed. JC science students, particularly triple science students in the bygone era when that subject combination still existed, tend to aim for either an overseas scholarship or to study medicine locally. Of course, some of the best are not interested in medicine at all, and some never consider or are not good enough for a scholarship. In any case, law is far from their minds. It is a tiny blip on their horizon, a spare part or an afterthought.

For the substantial number who fall at this hurdle, the question of "what's next" suddenly has to be answered. They grope around blindly and end up in any of the many university courses available, from engineering to arts. There are several who end up in law, probably because it is the next most prestigious and exclusive course. Lacking any passion for this course of study (in fact it is hard to imagine anyone with a passion for this driest of subjects), they suddenly find themselves studying a difficult subject they never imagined they would study.

Thus I conclude awkwardly, there being no nail to hit on the head in this little narrative. Am I referring to myself? Somewhat, but on the other hand I never actually applied to any medical course, and I find some law subjects fascinating. I would also like to make the interesting note that my LAWR class is disproportionately comprised of science students, including a sizeable number of the abovementioned medical school rejects.

2009-05-17T20:01:00.002+08:00

Those of us weaned on a steady diet of British and American motorcycle magazines might well have come away with the impression that anything other than a turbocharged Hayabusa or Mr Rossi's M1 is severely lacking in power, torque, or both. The CBF1000 is bland, the Monster 696 is a beginner's/ lady's bike, the FZ6 is soft, even the R6 has been described as flat. With such an impression, one hardly expects much of class 2A motorcycles: probably emasculated toys little old ladies use to carry their shopping home.

Time for a reality check, you (emasculated) Singaporean motorcyclists. I am tempted to say that the XJR400 threatened to tear me apart, limb by limb, but that would make me sound really emasculated. Nevertheless, I got quite a shock the first time I cracked open the throttle. Learner bike it surely is not. It then makes me wonder wistfully, just how powerful is the Hayabusa and its competitors?

2009-05-08T22:48:00.006+08:00

You might have been faced with such a situation before. After a satisfying meal, the bill arrives. Being impoverished students, there is no one to generously pull out a credit card. Yet the itemised bill fails to itemise the often substantial additional costs. Never fear, Mr Math is here!

1) Find the total cost of your individual items. I do not propose any solution on how to divide shared items. Check for the additional items such as wet towels, tea, and peanuts that are sometimes added, especially at Chinese restaurants. These are usually not taxed, but sometimes are.

2) The "++" refers to a 10% service charge and a 7% Goods and Services Tax which is also charged on the service charge. Things have been somewhat easier since cess ceased to be charged. This means that the "++" is equivalent to 17.7% of the cost. This is how you do it. I will consider a random cost of $23.60.

(a) Calculate 20% of the cost. Simply multiply 10% by 2. In our example this is $2.36 x 2 = $4.72
(b) Add this to the cost. $23.60 + $4.72 = $28.32
(c) Calculate 2% of the original price, simply a tenth of the already calculated 20% at step (a) above, which is $0.472 in our example.
(d) Subtract (c) from (b). $28.32 - $0.472 = $27.848

This gives us 118%. This is sufficiently accurate for most purposes and will rarely result in any significant excess. If accuracy is important subtract 3 cents for every 10 dollars of the original price. In the above example, subtract 7 cents. I do not think any further accuracy is helpful here because the smallest current denomination in Singapore is 5 cents. The final cost above is $27.848 - $0.07 = $27.778 or $27.80.

For a coda on additional charges, I complain about the nonsense of compulsory additional charges that go to the merchant. In particular I refer to restaurant service charges and flight fuel surcharges. GST and airport taxes are one thing; they may be calculated separately because they go to the Revenue and are beyond the control of the merchant. (Although it is noted that most stores include GST in their displayed price. I wonder why restaurants do not do the same.)

However, service and fuel charges are logically part of the cost. One cannot go to a restaurant and choose not to be served. Indeed, one expects to be served. Fuel is an even more essential part of a flight. When I buy a plane ticket, the plane had better be fuelled. Charging separately for an essential part of a service or good makes no sense at all. A toilet charge, baggage charge, or inflight entertainment charge would actually make more sense. After all, these are properly separable. Fuel? Can I choose to fly without it?

2009-04-29T19:54:00.002+08:00

Sometimes I wonder why I keep betting on this game where the only prize for winning is not losing.

Introduction to Legal Theory was my favourite subject this semester. The examination I took today was quite the disappointment, however. Prepared mainly for the Hart-Dworkin debate, I was somewhat surprised at the eighteen questions but blindly took heart in the few that did ask about those two giants of jurisprudence. Of the final six that made the cut, only one asked about Dworkin, and in very broad terms, and one other asked about Hart in relation to the nebula that is rule of law. I did both and a third question on applicability to Singapore as best I could, but really, I should have admitted earlier that legal theory is not the one-dimensional linguistic debate I pretended it was.

In the interests of clarity, the game at the start of this post is not legal theory but motorcycling.

2009-03-27T22:57:00.002+08:00

Because we haven't had any practice for Introduction to Legal Theory, and so that the few readers of this blog will hopefully leave with the impression that the blogger is functionally intellectual, I will discuss quite generally some concerns I have.

I raised in the previous post the problem with Hart's core of settled meaning. His concept of law rests quite heavily on the existence of this core, which suggests that there is a set of positive legal norms which can be discovered and applied to cases. Many questions arise, of which I think only two exist in a sufficiently coherent form in my head for me to tackle at this stage.

How does one determine a case that falls within the core, which I shall term the "easy case"? It appears arguable that there can be no easy case, or if one asserts the existence of an easy case, one must assert a normative value judgment. This value judgment may be negative or positive. In the first scenario, in defining a case as easy, one is making a normative judgment in the negative that any other outcome of the case is wrong. The second broader possible implication is that one is normatively asserting a moral obligation to obey the positive law as validly enacted. The second implication is not necessary and Hart is adamant about this. The first problem remains.

I can only formulate my rejoinder thus: that the legal validity of the easy case depends on its authority (or in Dworkin's possibly clearer words, its pedigree). One can avoid making the normative judgment in dismissing absurd outcomes by considering them legally invalid not because they are normatively wrong but because they are not followed. This, of course, necessitates accepting that they can be legally valid as long as they earn their pedigree, and it is accepted at this point that this is a weakness in the positivist edifice. If one distinguishes semantics from metasemantics it can be avoided, but I will leave that until I learn more.

The second issue is the inconsistency between the objectivity of positive legal norms and the conventionality of Hart's rule of recognition. In the context of the easy case, Hart seems to claim that there is a set of objectively identifiable legal norms. But if these norms exist because of social recognition, then the objective norms are merely agglomerations of subjective norms. While the rule of recognition prevents this conclusion from collapsing the separability thesis, the core of settled meaning is greatly threatened. Worse, if Hart's postscript is read as accepting Dworkin's law as interpretation, id est accepting that the collection of subjective norms is an interpretive process and therefore remains subjective, then the core must collapse.

How does the positivist hold up the core? I see two possible solutions, which I again would elaborate upon but for my ignorance. The first is to distinguish between strong and weak objectivity, and argue that legal norms can be weakly rather than strongly objective, and are not necessarily subjective. This hints of inclusive positivism, such that Raz's theory must find another defence. The second is to regard positivism as an epistemology rather than as a theory: a method of accounting for the positive law as it is separate from how it is practised. This is probably what Hart would have preferred, and Dowdle agrees as much.

2009-03-22T14:56:00.002+08:00

There are stark parallels between the AIG controversy and the two cases often cited in discussions of law and morality: Riggs v. Palmer 115 N.Y. 506 (1889) and the famous case of the Nazi grudge informer (Judgment of July 27 1949, Oberlandesgericht, Bamberg, 5 Suddeutsche Juristen-Zeitung 207).

The current mess reflects a severe weakness of legal positivism that Dworkin was quick to plunge the sword of Riggs into. Here the legal rule falls clearly within Hart's core of settled meaning. Yet there is a genuine debate about what the law is here, or in any case the positive law is not applied mechanically, throwing doubt over the existence of the core upon which Hart's theory is built.

Dworkin argues that legal principles can modify positive law in the interpretive process of justice. The same legal principles are in conflict here as was in Riggs - "no man should profit from his own wrong", against the sanctity of legal agreements, in this case employment contracts. How do we solve this moral conundrum? The discussion of the Nazi grudge informer is useful. We can either say that the unjust law is not law (or for Radbruch's more sophisticated distinction, that the law is so unjust that it is not law), or enact a new law ex post facto, where the injustice of its retroactivity is outweighed by the injustice of the original state of the law. It appears the latter route is preferred.

2009-03-18T10:56:00.002+08:00

After much procrastination and exasperation, I finally solved the Mobius chain and got Giant up and running again. I've missed cycling.

2009-02-15T18:51:00.002+08:00

Not too long ago Sunday evenings were the absolute pits. They involved miserable dinners with my family and miserable car rides to miserable places, where I would get on miserable buses to even more miserable places. Sometimes a miserable boat would get in on the act too. It was so depressing that during PTI course I booked in way earlier than required and read a little before going to bed barely after it was dark, all to avoid the unhappiness associated with Sunday evenings.

(As an aside, I think sleep is quite an amazing and almost perfect phenomenon. All problems and woes disappear completely, if temporarily. This is why I dislike waking others up, and also enjoy watching people sleep - especially loved ones, but complete strangers too.)

Last Sunday evening as I enjoyed either a salty sea breeze or a very vivid imagination, it occurred to me that Sunday evenings are pretty good now, and infinitely better than they used to be. It is when I try to salvage a weekend of sloth and look forward to the week ahead. This evening is unspectacular, and I have hardly started on the assignment due next Saturday, but it really is not bad at all.

2009-02-05T18:52:00.005+08:00

In halcyon days past this blog would be filled with my perceptive analyses of baseball and football. On Monday I woke up too late and left too early to watch Super Bowl XLIII, which the Pittsburgh Steelers eventually won with no small help from James Harrison's interception return, which as the longest play in Super Bowl history repays rewatching. I await yet another spring, promising myself that this year will be different, but the feeling that I cannot or do not want to afford MLB sufficient time continues to nag. I will try, however, beginning again with ESPN.com.

Where once I would dwell on baseball, my thoughts are usually on motorcycling these days. The waste is that such thoughts are very unproductive, given that the most exciting motorcycling I do is in the shape of Sime Road and Kheam Hock Road (which, by the way, I urge you to take if you are headed for Bukit Timah Campus from Lornie Road). I sit in the library for hours doing an excellent impression of one hard at work, while my mind traverses the world on motorcycles of all shapes. I should think that my daydreaming must head in a more useful direction. To that end I have been considering to no avail questions of the theory of law, and with slightly more interest questions of religion.

As I read the Gospels I cannot help but feel that Judas Iscariot is very much a condensation of a few key issues of God. Jesus foretold his betrayal and even seemed to instruct it. This begs two questions, both of which relate to the problem of free will and omnipotence: could Jesus have prevented it? If yes, why did he not, and if no, he cannot be omnipotent. Of course the correct answer is probably that he could but chose not to because Judas has been given free will to choose his path.

Now this answer presents the next question. Did Judas truly have a choice? This is one of the difficult issues I have been grappling with, the coexistence of foreknowledge and free will. If the path one will take is already known with absolute certainty, any choice would be but an illusion. If he did not truly have a choice, why should he be blamed rather than glorified? Similarly, if we do not truly have a choice, many theistic concepts fall apart. There is, however, apparently a causal fallacy with the reasoning here, and foreknowledge can exist with free will, but I have yet to appreciate it fully.

Why should Judas not be recognised for his role in saving humankind from sin, and even, as it probably appears on most readings of the New Testament, be condemned to burn eternally in hellfire? Jesus sacrificed flesh and blood for our sins; Judas sacrificed that and the Spirit for the same. Nevertheless, it is difficult to accept an interpretation that he is damned forever, for did Jesus not plead with His Father to forgive Judas? On the other hand, if that is so, why should Judas continue to be described as "wicked" in Acts?

Judas is definitely a good starting point for many theological questions. The problem of biblical inerrancy also popularly involves Judas. How did he die, and was it not Zechariah rather than Jeremiah who foretold his betrayal in the Old Testament? Fortunately, I have the assistance of an apologetic LAWR teammate who has put much thought to these questions.

2009-01-06T12:06:00.004+08:00

On the Facebook application Superlatives one can nominate friends or be nominated as someone "most likely to kick it with Jesus". Clueless and curious as to the meaning of this most unusual of metaphors, I sought the weighty authority of WikiAnswers, where four brave souls attempted to solve this mystery.

One answer was a nonsensical reference to Justin Timberlake "bringing SexyBack", so I shall ignore that. The three reasonable answers were all different. The first said that to kick it with Jesus is to talk and hang out with Him as one would with a friend. The second defined it as going to heaven with Him. This was my first instinct as well, taking "it" to refer to the proverbial bucket. The third answerer responded with an indignant "This should not be said about the Lord Jesus!", taking offence with any use of a violent physical verb in the same breath as the Redeemer's name.

WikiAnswers has failed this time then. I am aware that there is no comment function on this blog, but if you know both me and the meaning of the phrase, please tell me about it.

I spent three reflective days in Kuala Lumpur, valiantly pursuing, in Thomas Chia's words, "nothingness". My weak stabs at grasping Schopenhauer and Nietzsche fell through spectacularly in the withering heat of the Malaysian capital, but I managed to look back quite thoroughly on an eventful year of change and record those reflections on paper. A glorious sunset in Johor and watching flares from anchored ships back in Singapore brought the year to a close for me.

A quick look at some of my peers' blogs revealed that I was not alone in finding 2008 a landmark year of personal growth. This is not entirely surprising, of course; most of my peers, like me, completed National Service and/or entered university last year, both of which bring significant changes in a person's life. However, a glance at any news media concluding the year would also lead one to feel that 2008 was a milestone for the world. Many countries experienced events which are likely to substantially change their course for the future. Among many other things, the opposition took a huge step forward in Malaysia, people power finally removed the enduring influence of Thaksin Shinawatra in Thailand's government (but not among the population), China suffered a terrible earthquake, an ugly food scandal, and hosted a successful Olympic Games, and the United States elected Barack Obama to be its next president. That election, along with the biggest development of the year - the fall of capitalist markets around the globe - will have a tremendous impact on all of us as we plough on into 2009.

Just as I survived a paper loss of over $6000, and as I survived the first semester of school, the world will recover from this mess, probably not in 2009, but soon enough. In the meantime, I will have to work harder the coming semester, to ensure continued survival on both counts.

2008-12-19T10:17:00.021+08:00

I left on a cold rainy morning for Changi Point Ferry Terminal. This time the trip was to last until the next day. I was also not to be alone, Melvin Ng making his mildly surprising appearance at the terminal, evidently having recovered from the beer in his belly when he decided to join this brief adventure. There was no wait for the bumboat to leave.

A seawall to keep out marauding invaders

The terminal at Tanjung Pengelih had been largely completed since the last time I was there. The attitude of the Customs officers, on the other hand, had hardly changed. Laidback, to say the least. Off we set hence. Invigorated by the fresh air and cool weather - the rain had since stopped - I pushed the pace and it was not long before we encountered cows (no horses this time) grazing sedately in a field dotted with coconut palms.

Shortly thereafter we made it to the town of Sungai Rengit, which I had passed through obliviously the last time. We stopped for an unspectacular breakfast of prata and coffee.

Clearly, we were not the only foreigners

I promise, no more bicycle pictures.

The route followed the sea before heading slightly inland. Some sections were long and flat and others rolled a little. We went fairly quickly in good spirits and good weather. It was all vaguely familiar until Desaru, where the first little adventure occurred. I lost sight of Ng at the roundabout, and went a few hundred metres in each direction looking for him. Eventually I went straight ahead (our intended route) for about five kilometres to Tanjung Balau, where I settled myself down by the side of the road to consider my options. I decided to wait there for up to an hour before moving on by myself. He eventually turned up without his spectacles, his clothing marked with dirt. The gentleman had lost control and taken a detour off road, where his brakes failed him. Fortunately he was not too badly off. I tightened his brake cables and we continued. (If you're wondering why there is no mention of the wonder of mobile telephones, it is because this technological nitwit does not have autoroam.)

The rest of the way to Sedili Kecil was slightly more scenic, rather more hilly, and a lot more exhausting. The weather had warmed, the cross winds were strong as we were near the sea and we were running low on water. Nevertheless, spirits remained high and it was a matter of little time before we crossed the bridge over Sungai Sedili Kecil into the village. My original plan had been to go about five kilometres further to Sedili Besar, but having chanced upon a lovely little resort we decided to settle in.

While my good old friend enjoyed his afternoon siesta, I took a walk to the beach that seemed to last forever. The wind was breathtakingly strong, as strong as if not stronger than I have felt on a motorcycle. It made me happy. I walked out to where the once powerful waves feebly crept up onto the very long shore, and felt like I was the only person in the world. Bliss.

After dinner we strolled around the village and the river. The conversation was scintillating, if I may say so myself. It was quite the case throughout the trip: old friends who had hardly met for years embarking on a somewhat new experience.

The quality of conversation was to hit a high note the next day, when we were to both suffer punctures to our rear wheels. This happened by an oil palm plantation after a spectacular descent. We tracked back on foot some distance to seek help at the plantation entrance. Specifically, we sought a pump, for at this juncture we believed that only Ng's tyre was flat and I had a spare tube available. A gentleman appeared on a ubiquitous underbone, and we asked him for a pump. He immediately produced from his small cloth bag a new pump still in its box. I laughed out loud. If I was a theist that would have been some moment.

Unfortunately, after successfully replacing Ng's tube he came to the conclusion that my rear tyre was punctured as well. I remain unsure as to whether this was correct, but in his eagerness to help he used a patch on Ng's old tube, to which I did not object as this was probably a good solution. This did not work, however, and he left us with a punctured tyre and a suggestion to hitchhike.

We decided to walk in the direction of Desaru rather than Sedili Kecil, while sticking the universal thumb out at every passing vehicle. The first four trucks ignored us, and we concluded that this was because they were in a hurry and already carried full loads. The first car slowed down and appeared to think about it, before speeding off. It was at this time that conversational quality reached its zenith, as we quite happily (and philosophically, I hope) discussed how we came to arrive at our fate and how we felt. Just as I was about to lose my faith in humanity, a hero in a white Toyota Corolla stopped. Not only did Azmi agree to carry my bicycle to Bandar Penawar, he refused my suggestion that he just leave me there to wait for Ng but insisted on following Ng for his safety.

Safety indeed. I took over Ng's bicycle after a while, and where traffic permitted I held on to the car's side mirror while Azmi drove and held on to my rear end, somewhat a la Bean in Bean's Holiday. This sped things up considerably and saved a lot of energy up the steep slopes. It was exhilarating as well, with the bicycle beginning to vibrate at high speeds and me trying to keep my balance at those speeds while not going too close or too far from the car, one hand on it and one on the mirror.

We had a pleasant lunch before we hired a taxi to take us to the ferry terminal at Tanjung Belungkor, from where we left for Changi Ferry Terminal and then our separate ways home.

It was undoubtedly a memorable experience on my first "real" bicycle tour lasting more than a day. (I disagree with this classification, however, in my opinion any journey of any length is a tour, especially if it is to a new place and for pleasure.) I learnt lessons on what to prepare for bicycle tours and on the inherent goodness of people.

I hope to go further on a bicycle. I would probably need either a dedicated tourer or a hybrid for longer distances, however. In the shorter meantime I hope to explore other modes of touring, particularly trains, buses, motorcycles, and cars. If I decide to head farther afield I would probably like to fly as well. Nevertheless, I can hardly imagine how any of these can compare with the bicycle for sheer romance.

2008-12-12T20:45:00.002+08:00

I shall reflect on the semester past.

I had looked forward to the start of school for the longest time, mired as I was in the mundane rigours of mandatory military service. There was therefore little doubt that I would find the first semester a generally pleasant experience of exercising the intellect. That much I can definitely say so now. To finally do something useful with my life complete with proper targets and goals and conclusions is priceless.

The library has at times been something of a haven, albeit a very cold one. The law reports in particular are a joy, occasionally to read, but mostly to simply hold and leaf through, whether they be crisp new copies or ancient yellowed pages. They make me wonder how the majority of my peers satisfy themselves with the uniformly impersonal offerings on Lawnet. I am also quite pleased to have completed the semester without the benefit of a notebook computer. I can be fairly certain that this did not disadvantage me in any way, but on the contrary helped me a great deal. I participated actively in class without the underestimated physical hindrance of a screen before me, and without the benefit of an intellectual crutch I prepared thoroughly for tutorials. Writing notes and seeing them instantly probably helped me remember them better. Now I say "probably", because I look forward with trepidation to the 23rd of this month when the results should be made known. Nonetheless, I do not think computers will figure very much in the rest of my university life. That must be a good thing.

The lack of feedback affected me somewhat, and until today I still very much doubt if I am in the right place, for I have generally not done well where feedback has been forthcoming. But no matter, all in good time.

I have analysed social situations to death since secondary school, and continue to do so in university. Details would never fit here, but suffice to say there has been plenty of food for thought, much of which I am a part of myself. Generally it must be said that I am glad for the friends I have in school, both new and old.

I do not look forward to the next semester, and definitely not to a subject known by four letters. In the meantime, the vacation begs to be enjoyed.

2008-12-05T23:43:00.002+08:00

Just before Nicole left for a road trip of sorts in the western United States I suggested in my usual snide manner something to the effect of, "why don't you all just sit in your car, turn on the engine and play a video of an American landscape rolling past?" After I was done with deriding driving I trained my sights on flying.

Does it strike anyone else as illogical to spend a substantial portion on one's travel budget on something of zero or even negative pleasurable value? It is not unusual for airfare to constitute over half the cost of a trip, especially if one adheres to a tight budget on the trip itself, going for cheaper accomodation and spending less in general. I understand that most travellers try to somewhat maximise their expenditure on airfare, which is why trips farther afield usually last longer. Nevertheless, it is often the case that anything from a third to two-thirds of a trip's cost goes to the airline.

To justify such heavy expenditure on something of zero pleasurable value in the course of an activity which is inherently pleasurable (or intended to be such), it must provide a tremendous utilitarian value that contributes to the desired pleasure. It would seem that most people are satisfied with the utility they obtain from flying, that of arriving swiftly and safely at faraway lands. I respectfully disagree. To endure a practical and efficient physical journey for the purpose of further ostensibly pleasant travels seems very artificial to me. A journey is simply that, and should remain so. If one journeys for the purpose of joy, such a journey must in itself be enjoyable. It must be added parenthetically that there is no quarrel if one truly enjoys flying.

Of course, practical is probably the operative phrase. Much as we all dream of motorcycling across Africa or taking the train across Siberia, if we wish to visit distant places the aeroplane remains the only viable option. It should not, however, keep us from dreaming.

A final note on driving and flying. I have quite liked aircraft and automobiles for most of my life, spending hours reading about them and ogling at pictures of them. It naturally followed that I spent much of my youth dreaming of flying and driving all over the world. As you probably have observed, I now regard both activities in a less brilliant light. It must be emphasised that I take issue only with how these two activities have degenerated in today's world - summarily, as merely convenient modes of transport. Starting a car and hooking up the transmission still gives me a thrill, one that rapidly disappears as I head out into the nightmare of Singapore's roads. I have not flown in over seven years, so perhaps there is some envious spite in my insult of it, but I no doubt hope for an early opportunity to fly again. I recall it as quite an experience. Planes and cars I continue to appreciate.

2008-11-11T21:04:00.003+08:00

Just yesterday I suggested that cycling attitudes and the road infrastructure must improve. The massive intersection of Mountbatten Road and Old Airport Road has reflected that suggestion to me over the past few weeks. There is substantial construction work at and around that junction for the Circle Line. A few weeks ago I had a very close shave with a van that was wholly my fault, having ridden brazenly through a red light. On many other occasions my aggressive habits have got me into tight spots, particularly my penchant for lane splitting. Not so long ago my initial fear on the roads meant that I was very disciplined, queuing up to turn and waiting in place at traffic lights. These days youthful impatience gets the better of me all too often.

The quality of roads is also terrible. Road bicycles, for all their speed, do not fare well on Singapore roads. The rough surface of our roads was lamented by almost every F1 driver who raced here earlier this year. This morning one of my bicycle's wheels was caught in the joint of a manhole cover. One can imagine how unreasonably wide that gap is. Fortunately, I was travelling fast enough and the joint was not too deep, so I avoided falling off, but not without scraping the front rim. Clearly, hybrid and mountain bicycles are more suited for the terrain here.

In the brief period of time that I have been commuting on a road bicycle, two friends from 4P have sought my advice regarding the viability of bicycle commuting in Singapore. I dispensed with some of my inexpert knowledge, but mostly I told them about the immense joy I have experienced on a bicycle. Both of them probably cycle more than I do now, and last I heard Kevin Lim was riding free in the land of the free. Today on a different route home I soaked in the sights and smells of Little India and Geylang. Truly, no regrets at all.

2008-11-10T21:19:00.003+08:00

What can twenty-five cents afford you these days? At least two things: local postage for the basic weight-step, and entry into the Central Business District during lunch hour, on a motorcycle. If however, you enter that District without paying the twenty-five cents, a statutory authority commonly abbreviated as LTA will spend twenty-five of the state's cents to seek a compository eight dollars from you, on top of the twenty-five cents in arrears.

If Electronic Road Pricing and the rest of the litany of woes associated with motorised transport are not for you, take a look at page A6 of today's Straits Times. Bicycling is encouragingly gaining favour among a proportion of the population. It is observed that Singaporeans are most resistant to bicycling as a method of commuting. Wealthy (mostly Western) expatriates take to the streets regularly on their expensive bicycles, while foreign workers of all nationalities and ethnicities crowd the pavements and alleys on their humble rides. Locals, on the other hand, remain firmly ensconced in their air-conditioned cages on wheels. Understandable, perhaps, for there is a long way for all of us to go before cycling becomes a truly safe and pleasant experience. The physical infrastructure must be improved, cycling and motoring habits must change, and most importantly minds must open. If you want to open yours, have a look at The Black Sea Fleet.

2008-11-05T14:41:00.002+08:00

On this day we find that there is hope yet for the free world, hope for a great country that took a wrong turn eight years ago. I do not have a tremendous amount of faith in Barack Obama, but this is a change that will only improve the state of the union and the state of the world.

Obama reminds me vaguely of Tony Blair in 1997: young, telegenic, charismatic, ambitious, and real. It is that last point that gives me some difficulty. Both are such masters of speech and spin that they appear to be nothing other than completely genuine and honest people. Yet we saw what happened with Blair, and I suggest that the same will happen with Obama. He will probably have a generally successful first or even second term, but it will only be a matter of time before cynicism sets in with all the spin and hype surrounding him. Nonethless, I hope for only the best from him and for him in the coming years.

So the Phillies won the World Series.

2008-10-21T19:16:00.003+08:00

Ten years ago on the last day of March a Red Sox legend by the name of Wade Boggs, wearing a Tampa Bay Devil Rays uniform, belted a home run in the cavern that is Tropicana Field. The Devil Rays would go on to lose that game 11-6 to the Detroit Tigers, the first of 1037, 1041 if you include this postseason. A young boy had considered then that the Devil Rays were a cool team with a cool name that rhymed and cool uniform playing at a cool dome with a cool name. That coolness would increase even further in the years to come, as the Devil Rays gave Jim Morris a chance, inspiring the aforementioned young boy, and produced such spectacular talents as Aubrey Huff, Carl Crawford, Johnny Gomes and Scott Kazmir, some of whom were of tremendous assistance to the young boy in rotisserie leagues.

Those Rays, having been exorcised of the Devil, will face the Philadelphia Phillies tomorrow at that cool ballpark, Tropicana Field, in the first game of the 2008 World Series. That boy, no longer quite as young, will be hoping that they emerge victorious, for it is the least he can do having decided over ten years ago that another team out in the desert was cooler for his intents and purposes.

2008-10-18T01:02:00.002+08:00

I discussed in the post dated 20080914 my general contentment with life as it was. Other than the passage of another month little has materially changed to disturb the balance I might have found then. One side of that fine balance, however, is maintained by, at the barest minimum, a respectable academic standard. I can only say now that I have failed to meet this admittedly arbitrary standard. While I hope I can still struggle to maintain the crucial balance, this is contingent on a rapid improvement of grades.

I have never worked as hard at school before, nor have I ever been as competitive. The former is probably a positive development, but I am concerned about the impact the latter has had or will have on relationships. I do not quite grasp why this has happened. After all, my closest friends have always performed exceedingly well at school, far better than I could have ever hoped for myself. Yet I never felt the tinge of envy or even spite I feel now when I hear of grades better than mine. It is not a pleasant feeling, and is made worse by that it is an ugly blemish on my character. While I endeavour to correct this, I must consider if this is because results mean more now that I am in university and working rather hard, because I am hardly close enough with the friends I have made at school, or because I am really a mean, vindictive, spiteful, and eventually friendless failure.

2008-09-24T21:36:00.003+08:00

In the ten years or so that I have followed Major League Baseball, I have seen many things happen. Foremost in my memory will probably always be the epic 2001 World Series, but many other amazing feats and incidents have come to my knowledge, mostly through cable television and the Internet. The summer of 98, Bonds' chase in 2001, and the Red Sox of 2004 are just three of the most remarkable, among countless others. But for this relatively comprehensive compilation of baseball experiences, a very special event occurred today. I have loathed the New York Yankees for as long as I have followed baseball, and for the first time since I started doing so, the aforementioned New York Yankees will not be playing baseball in October.

No doubt, I have had more pleasure than pain watching the Bronx Bombers since Mariano Rivera hurled Damian Miller's bunt into center field, but most of this pleasure came only in the postseason (the 2004 ALCS being the most pleasant). Last season I believed there was a decent chance that the Yankees would miss the playoffs, but they made it by the skin of their teeth. Therefore their absence this fall is worthy of celebration.

This season is turning out to be quite a season. I regret failing to keep faithfully up to date with developments this year. The Rays, who are my favourite AL team and not my favourite MLB team only because of my dislike of the designated hitter rule, have pulled off an amazing season and will be in the postseason for the first time since they joined the league with the Diamondbacks (and me) 10 years ago. Those Diamondbacks, meanwhile, still have a realistic chance of achieving an impressive comeback: they are three games behind Manny's Dodgers with five to play. For all my joy at the Yankees' implosion, it will all be tempered considerably should the Snakes join them on the golf courses come October.

2008-09-14T09:21:00.003+08:00

I feel as if I have grown a little younger since the end of last year, at about the time I procured my uncreatively named bicycle, Giant. Since then I have cycled to all sorts of places in Singapore and beyond, left the armed forces, learnt to ride a motorcycle, bought a motorcycle, attempted a triathlon overseas, worked the night shift, and started school. Not quite like five months in Europe, but I definitely learnt much and am generally a happier person than I was a year ago.

I felt this joy surge through me while cycling home through East Coast Park on Wednesday evening. Such contentment happens once in a while, usually on a bicycle or motorcycle or with some sort of wind in my face, and I feel absolutely alive. The most alive I ever felt was cycling in the pouring rain in the southeast corner of Peninsular Malaysia, with the freezing rain pelting my face, my every muscle begging to stop, and the valleys and hills rolling past me. (The unfortunate thing about motorcycling is that while the wind blasts firmly in your face, the moments of joy are fleeting in Singapore because any lovely view passes by all too soon.)

My view of life may have changed slightly in this period. Where I was once pathetically afraid to do things I wanted to because of reasons such as thrift, I now take a more enthusiastic perspective that encourages living life for the experiences and memories, not for tomorrow. I still have reservations about this - I spend a lot more than I used to - but my father always reminds me that money is not meant to be buried with my body and if anything at all, my present contentment justifies it all.

2008-08-17T21:46:00.003+08:00

In the week that is about to close I went to school five times. I was delivered to school twice, drove once, cycled once, and rode my motorcycle once. I have made no secret of my desire of varying my method of commute to avert annoyance on otherwise lovely mornings and evenings. The first two methods listed above are not likely to be available often, as I hope there will not be too many Saturday lessons and that my father will not regularly undergo surgery. That leaves the remaining two methods and the ever faithful public transport system. A problem is that riding a cycle of any sort requires a fair amount of focus and energy, both mental and physical, that should be better spent on academic pursuits.

My current intention is to ride the motorcycle twice or thrice a week and the bicycle once a week or fortnight. The remainder of trips will be made on public transport, which I fortunately do enjoy quite a bit as well. Regardless of the mode of transport, it is a pleasant feeling to join the hordes of people and vehicles purposefully heading somewhere every morning. The past 32 months or so of my life never felt half as meaningful.

2008-08-11T19:20:00.002+08:00

On Sunday morning I tried to score my first game this season. Names I had never heard before such as Burriss and Kuroda littered the lineup. Nothing prepared me, however, for seeing the legendary Manny Ramirez in a Dodger uniform.

In my first tutorial today I received a copy of the case Popov v Hayashi and failed to recognise it. Meanwhile, the American tutor had proceeded to discuss briefly the beauty of baseball with a classmate who had heard of Barry Bonds. I sat quietly aside, terribly ashamed that I could not recall one of the very few cases I have ever read in my life, and one regarding one of the first loves of my life to boot.

These realisations of my failure to keep up with MLB developments this season left me a little upset with myself. I have been distracted by work and a growing love for single track two-wheeled vehicles. Now that school has started it is unlikely I will catch up. At the very least I hope to follow the postseason closely.

2008-08-03T20:14:00.003+08:00

I am both horrified and disgusted by the news that the University Town at Warren will not be ready in time for the Youth Olympic Games, and that the athletes will be accomodated on the fringes of the western live firing area, where they can feed mosquitoes nightly while the constant rattle of gunshots rocks them to sleep.

In my post arguing against Singapore's bid for the 2010 Youth Olympic Games dated 21 February 2008, I alluded to the doubts over the possibility of completing the University Town in time for the games. Our Prime Minister himself guaranteed that it would be completed in time for the Games, and evidently the International Olympic Committee was sufficiently reassured. He said, "We plan to use the University Town as the Youth Olympic Village, and will make sure that it is completed in time for the Games." The project was to be given top priority and fast tracked in the government's "Green Lane".

Now they claim that budget considerations have to take precedence, and that a glorified version of Pasir Laba Camp will have to play host to youth athletes from around the world. Apparently, the IOC has approved this change. I do not know how much store IOC members set by the location of the Youth Olympic Village when they cast their votes, but I do know that the University Town formed a key component of Singapore's bid, and that PM Lee's assurance gave a considerable boost to our chances. This move will, at best, reflect poorly on the competence of our government's planning agencies and at worst, lead the international media to cast aspersions on our authorities' integrity.

Of course, I still feel that the bid should not have gone ahead in the first place, and I can now look forward to saying "I told you so" when the Games are done and dusted. After all, the University Town will definitely not be the last victim of inflation and a slowing economy. And I still believe the Games will be a disappointing flop, more "everyone gets a trophy day" at summer camp than global sporting extravaganza. This is not what I want to feel, however. Now that our country has won the bid, I would like to see a successful Games. Reneging on a promise to fast track a cornerstone of the Games, and instead claiming that cost considerations take precedence after winning the bid is bound to embarrass Singapore on a very global stage.

2008-07-13T19:39:00.002+08:00

I scribbled this on a few scraps of paper early Wednesday morning.

With about an hour and a half left in my brief working stint at Shop n Save and Livin' on a Prayer playing on the public announcement system, perhaps the time is finally ripe for me to reflect in writing on this remarkable experience.

The single distinction of this job is its nature as a purely nocturnal endeavour. I have rarely been one to stay up past midnight, much less to do so till the sun rises. The past four months have taken their toll on my body, as I have fallen ill more often than usual, lost about six kilograms in mass and turned into a pallid skeleton of my former self. If I had ever found it difficult to drag myself out of bed at five in the morning, doing so at nine in the evening quickly put that in perspective. I doubt it is possible for humans as naturally diurnal beings to truly get used to living life primarily at night. Some people, including customers, gallantly claim an inability to sleep at night or a habit of staying up late, as if it confers some sort of machismo. However, all of my colleagues and those working at the restaurants in the area agree unanimously on the immense daily struggle of maintaining such a lifestyle. Nevertheless, I eventually became slightly more accustomed to the unearthly hours.

The job itself presents less of an obstacle. My primary role is to check out goods and receive payment. Beyond that, especially in the long lazy wee hours, I shelve items and stock fresh produce. These are not terribly exciting duties, but I have learnt much, from my dislike of plastic bags detailed in an earlier post to methods of handling different types of fresh produce, as well as their prices. Being sufficiently mundane they also allow the mind to wander great distances without penalty.

At some point I set my pen down, occupied with my final duties. I seem to have lost one of the scraps of paper I reflected on.

I would like to add that I also found quite a bit of time on the job to read. I completed several books on the job. I can hardly complain about the job, for I was effectively paid to read and on occasion, to rest deeply.

I have never watched the MLB Futures Game in the ten years or so I have followed baseball. Tonight presents an excellent opportunity to have a look at some of the game's rising stars in the crumbling home of a fallen dynasty.

2008-07-01T09:03:00.004+08:00

"Aren't you scared you'll kill yourself if you crash?"

"You live more in five minutes on a bike ... than some people live in a lifetime."

- The World's Fastest Indian

I am a week away from finally concluding my working stint. I may be a little more reflective at a later stage, but for today I can say that it has been a useful and generally positive experience. I may have sacrificed a lot for a very low pay, including sleep, sanity, and weight, but I think it was fairly well spent. I did not have any life altering epiphanies, but I have learnt quite a bit. I may delve deeper into that when I am actually done with turning my internal clock upside down.

One thing that I have mostly forgotten in the course of this job is Major League Baseball. I still find the time to watch a game once in a while, but I regularly find new faces and names I don't recognise, or players with new teams or new positions. If I am permitted the luxury of time I will return to following the sport more closely. I found myself rather bored with proceedings throughout the recently concluded European soccer championships. I must say that soccer is really not a game meant for television.

2008-06-28T13:25:00.002+08:00

I have never been a fan of plastic bags, but I also never took much notice of them until I started working at a supermarket. Since then I have doggedly refused plastic bags whatever I purchase, regardless of the weight and number of items. I have realised that plastic bags are a truly needless waste of resources as they serve hardly any function at all, as opposed to other wasted items which may be unnecessary but not completely useless. There are countless other areas in our lives where we can and should reduce waste. Plastic bags, however, are wasted on such a grand scale it pains me to observe the inflexibility of the minds of people when they are blinded by the way things have been done for years.

When purchasing one or a few items, it hardly makes any difference whether the item is carried in hand or in a bag. If one is carrying a bag of any sort as almost all of us do, whether it is a haversack or tote bag, the item can very easily be placed in it and it would be far more convenient and glamorous. In my case, I use my backpack or helmet bag when making unplanned purchases.

And no, it does not have to be in a plastic bag before going into your handbag, ma'am.

With prepared and purposeful shopping trips the need for plastic bags is even more unforgiveable. It takes very little effort to bring along a few of the cloth bags that are available for a very low price and are even being distributed freely these days. Each of them can easily carry well over ten kilograms of items and most will agree that one looks far more elegant with a large cloth bag or two than with five bursting plastic bags dragging each arm down. The best part is that cloth bags don't tear.

No, ma'am, you don't have to put that into a plastic bag before you put it in your lovely cloth bag.

And you, ma'am, are you sure you really need a plastic bag in which to carry the cloth bag you just purchased? It really defeats our efforts to reduce waste.

If you had brought a cloth bag, ma'am, you wouldn't have needed three plastic bags for that one item.

Those who come into the store flipping their car keys deserve the most flak, in my opinion. Perhaps some of us don't want to carry cloth bags on a long bus ride, or it does not cross our mind. What excuse, then, do drivers have for not having a bag or two in their cars? But even that is forgiveable, when you consider that they push their shopping carts to their cars (plastic bags not needed), place their items into the trunk (again, not needed), and drive right up to their doorstep and unload the items. Here bags are not absolutely necessary, and by this time one can easily grab a few gigantic cloth bags from home to facilitate the very short trip from the car to the final grocery destination. I am not saying that this is the ideal solution. The ideal solution is to bring your own bag. I am simply saying that a lot more can be done if our minds just open up to the possibilities.

Why should I care, you ask. Plastic bags are cheap and you have paid for them. However, the cost of plastic bags is rising rapidly in tandem with the price of crude oil as they are manufactured from refined products of oil. Furthermore, we can keep grocery costs down if such auxiliary costs are removed. These reasons are on top of those we already know about protecting the environment from further damage.

Free plastic bags, or any free item for that matter, distort the market and induce wanton wastage, eventually forcing price increases in other products. It is about time we found a better solution than Bring Your Own Bag Day. Why, even China, which so many of us deride as an uncouth backwater, has started charging for plastic bags. Bring Your Own Bag Day has brought about limited awareness of this issue, but it is ignored by a substantial segment of the population.

Two final notes on this: my imaginary plastic bag grabbing customers are all female, because an extraordinarily vast majority of those who request more bags than necessary are of the fairer sex. I have also noted that almost all who belong to a certain indigenous ethnic group refer to plastic bags, whether in the singular or plural, as "plastic", as in, "Can I have one plastic?" or "Can give me double plastic?" The latter question, in particular, never fails to raise my ire for the twin reasons of terrible English and plastic bag wastage. In any case, I find this little fact interesting and mildly endearing in that I have never heard people of any other race use the word as such, and that even those who speak otherwise perfect English with crisp enunciation make this small mistake.

2008-06-12T09:53:00.002+08:00

I have spent the week or so since my acquisition of a motorcycle reflecting on what it has cost me to get here. Beyond the almost absolute depletion of cash in hand (or bank), my initial foray into motorcycling has caused considerable friction with my family. I have asked myself countless times, from before I even knew where the clutch was and which direction the throttle twisted: why ride? The doubts in my head have only increased, yet I still move ahead with the next step, spending ever more money and time. None of my friends or family ride and I have no desperate need for transport. Even if I imagine that I look like the epitome of cool on a motorcycle, no one is around to appreciate my coolness, given my very vibrant social life.

I believe that motorcycling, like cycling, is best appreciated as a long lonely journey. Without going too far into romantic imagery, one's experiences with either pursuit is singularly spectacular when the road is endlessly twisty and arduous. I have very briefly tasted the sweetness of such a journey on both a bicycle and a motorcycle. It is perhaps a yearning for more that drives me to pay such a heavy price to ride.

The doubts disappear quickly everytime I head out on a motorcycle or bicycle. Some will give you the classic and in my opinion, nonsensical line: If you have to ask, you wouldn't understand. It is indeed difficult to explain, but I will attempt to put my own questions to rest somewhere between the wind in my face and the ground I put my foot down on.

2008-05-11T19:11:00.002+08:00

Having taken five Traffic Police tests, three of the theoretical variety and two on the road, I am proud to say that I did not fail anyone of them. Now licensed to drive a variety of underpowered vehicles from typical Malaysian mopeds and scooters to the Honda Phantom, it remains to be seen if I will acquire one of them. The Phantom in particular appeals to me, but parental opposition continues to be a key obstacle. Nevertheless, not many can claim at the age of 20 to have both licences. Not impressive at all, but one of the little things I can try to be happy about.

2008-05-07T09:42:00.002+08:00

Between the last post and this was over a month of work as a night shift cashier at a supermarket. It has been quite a challenge adapting to the hours and I am perpetually fatigued, but things have improved somewhat.

Meanwhile, the MLB season has started and the Democratic nomination slugfest continues. I have become a fan of CNN coverage of the race on its website at CNNPolitics.com but particularly on television. It is a great pleasure watching John King analysing results with the amazing giant touch screen. What I'd give to have access to such a screen. A few touches and flicks of the fingers expand individual counties and cities and show the breakdown of live results as they come in, complete with pie charts and little bars. One can also zoom out and view the national map.

Beyond the technological wizardry of CNN coverage, I am not sure who I'd prefer as American president: John McCain or Barack Obama. I lean heavily towards the latter, but John McCain with his conservative economic credentials would probably be better for this part of the world. His pledge to stay the course in Iraq is also the more responsible stand that is likely to cost him in the general election. He is also a welcome relief from typical Republican anti-immigration rhetoric. But of course, my opinion matters not at all.

This question is reflective of a greater dilemma of mine asked by Facebook which includes one's political views in one's profile, if so desired. I have swung from Liberal to Conservative. An accurate description would probably be Moderate Conservative, but that would be too much detail for a Facebook profile, like Aaron Wham's Moderate Liberal. In greater detail, I consider myself a conservative on economic issues but slightly more liberal on social issues. In any case, however, I doubt anyone really cares, given my impressive number of Facebook friends.

2008-03-06T21:02:00.020+08:00

The last time I left Singapore was over five years ago for the beach resort of Desaru. Sad, yes, but not sadder than the fact that my next trip overseas should again be for Desaru. This time, though, I was heading there on two wheels under my own power, and without the company of the entire RI GEP 2003. Indeed, without any company at all. Leaving before daybreak, I took Changi Coastal Road to Changi Point Ferry Terminal, among the lesser used exit points out of Singapore. There was no sign of increased security and nothing like the jams at Woodlands reported in today's paper. Perhaps travellers might consider using this terminal to disembark from Singapore during the March holidays instead of joining the endless queues at the Causeway and Second Link.

The requisite twelve passengers gathered, the bumboat set off for the incomplete Tanjung Pengelih ferry terminal.

Much to my dismay, it was raining quite heavily. I stalled for time by fiddling with my poncho and taking mundane pictures such as the one above, but it soon became clear that the weather would refuse to ease. At about a quarter to ten, I set out in the cold, soaking my feet immediately. My spirit dampened, I quickly took a break at a hut, where I photographed a muddy cemetery and a cluster of zinc roofed houses.

Thereafter I decided that I could no longer afford such a slow pace or any more rest stops. Already drenched, I resolved not to stop until the town of Sungei Rengit. Along the slightly bumpy road I went, past sleepy villages devoid of activity probably due to the rain. I did not take any pictures as I baulked at the hassle of getting off the bike, removing my poncho, and retrieving my camera from my bag only to risk having it damaged by the rain. My initial fear of passing cars and their high speeds quickly dissolved as I realised the skill and consideration of Malaysian drivers, in very stark contrast to drivers in Singapore. They give a very wide berth when overtaking and enter into the oncoming lane if possible, risking their own safety rather than the vulnerable cyclist's. If changing lanes is not possible, they await patiently a better opportunity to pass. Particularly impressive are truck and large vehicle drivers, who use their horn not to express annoyance for no reason at all as is the case in Singapore, but to warn of their intention to pass from over a hundred metres away. I really appreciated those warnings.

I also got used quickly to the sight of roadkill. I saw two cats and a porcupine, among many other carcasses that were mutilated beyond identification. Eventually I passed through a small town where a little girl on her father's kapcai waved at me. (That seems to be the only sort of motorcycle around. I don't recall seeing any other sort of motorcycle, not even a naked.) It was a while after that when the roads became very empty that I realised I had passed Sungei Rengit. With no opportunity to rest now, I pressed on across the lonely plains through the rain. Lower back pain set in when the route became cruelly hilly. The heart sinks no deeper than when one crests a hill hoping for a long descent only to see the road lead to an even steeper upgrade.

Finally I reached a roundabout that instructed me to turn right to Desaru. Expecting more hills, what I saw was the ugly imitation of a castle that welcomes visitors to Desaru. I followed the road in, my spirits lifted. Any illusion that Desaru was a town quickly disappeared, as no sign of human life materialised 5 kilometres after the "Welcome to Desaru" gate. It is merely a collection of resorts and campsites that probably awakens only on weekends and holidays. Hence I turned into a golf club where I enjoyed a meal of beef rendang and excellent service from friendly staff who had few others to be friendly with.

In the relentless rain, a solitary dog ponders his fate.

It was getting close to one and I had to catch the ferry back at three. With little time to spare, I quickly finished my meal and set off at about a quarter to one. My haste was quickly forgotten, however, when I chanced upon a mare and her foal grazing by the road.

Thereafter I pushed the pace as the rain lightened a little, but greater speed meant that I felt colder. Oil palm plantations flanked the hilly way back, but there was no time to stop to admire the plunging valleys and rolling hills. I arrived at Tanjung Belungkor at a quarter to three, rather quicker than I expected. Breezing through a non-existent immigration check I boarded the almost empty ferry bound for Singapore.

The ferry trip gave me the opportunity to take more pictures, something which had been denied for most of the journey due to the rain and perceived lack of time.

A hard day's work

Remember this place?

Jeremy and Yong Sheng will remember this too.

Love it or hate it, depending on whether it is getting bigger or smaller.

Cold, wet, dirty, and generally rather pleased with myself.

2008-03-03T21:56:00.002+08:00

The fiasco over the terrorist fugitive completely baffles me. Based on the information available through the media, most people would conclude that he has left our shores, probably in the four hour gap between his escape and the publication of said escape. That period of time is more than enough for him to leave for Indonesia, perhaps on a speedboat which he is now famously capable of piloting and with the help of some of his brethren. The police, however, insist that he remains in Singapore, working alone with no help whatsoever. At first glance, this seems fair enough, they no doubt have access to information I do not, and something must have led them to this conclusion. However, this headstrong belief begs very desperately the question of how he has managed to evade capture for five days now. Are we supposed to believe that he exploited a "physical breach" in security to limp to freedom in the forests of the Central Catchment Area, and has been living off the land for the past five days while thousands of servicemen search high and low in vain? I hardly think I am the only one who finds this possibility very far-fetched.

In 2004 three armed fugitives entered Pulau Tekong. All three were apprehended within 58 hours. The situation then is very different from the one now, not least considering that Pulau Tekong is an island. Nevertheless, given the ruthless efficiency with which our police, particularly the Gurkhas, found the fugitives, along with the millions of eyes currently watching out for him, it is incredible that the much larger manhunt in this case has failed to produce any results. This probably means that, if he is indeed in Singapore, he is harboured in the shelter of sympathisers or allies. Our government remains adamant that Jemaah Islamiyah in Singapore is dead, and that he is working alone. To say that he is working alone and still in Singapore is tantamount to admitting a very embarrassing incompetence on the part of our security forces, that they can lose and not find such an important person with all their best efforts. I have faith that this is not the case.

My best explanation is that the government knows full well that it is very likely that he is overseas. I, along with many others I have asked, believe this to be the case as well. However, after the disaster of losing the terrorist, the government could not be seen to be sitting around wringing their hands wondering where he is. Neither could they give the people, the media, and the international community the time and opportunity to apportion blame and impugn the competence of the ruling government. There had to be action, and the best way was to activate hordes of security forces to comb the forests and storm the jungles, and focus media attention onto such intense activity. When the hubbub over this issue starts to subside, we will probably hear of the police turning their focus to intelligence and surveillance and cooperating with neighbouring countries for any information on the fugitive. Perhaps we might even hear a quiet admission that he is no longer in Singapore. In any case, I would be very surprised if this futile physical manhunt turns up anything at all.

The response of some Singaporeans, keeping their children out of school and worrying for their safety, is also rather comical. He is no serial rapist or armed robber. He is a terrorist who goes "for the win", so to speak, not for your modesty, money, or even life. Having just escaped, the last thing he would want to do is to draw attention to himself by committing a crime, and importantly, leaving himself liable to being tried and convicted as opposed to merely being detained. I have no doubt, though, that he would gleefully celebrate the fear he has induced into these Singaporeans if he knew about it.

2008-02-21T12:05:00.002+08:00

Before the anticipated announcement this evening, I would like to record here my opposition to Singapore's bid for the 2010 Youth Olympic Games.

Being the inaugural Youth Olympic Games, the benefits of hosting this event remain largely an unknown. Who in Singapore actually heard of these games prior to the announcement of Singapore's bid? If Singapore had not put forth a bid, I am certain we would now be blissfully ignorant of an upcoming announcement on a random faraway city about to host another random sports event. I have great doubt about any substantial global audience for such an event and about any potential benefit our country will reap from hosting it. Again, I ask you to imagine if another city was hosting the games. Even if it was in Kuala Lumpur, few will make the trip to watch adolescent amateurs trying their hand at Olympic sports. Would you watch it on television? Probably not.

Cities such as Montreal are still paying off their debt incurred from hosting major sporting events. (The 1976 Summer Games, in the case of Montreal.) Beijing and London have already exceeded or expect to exceed their initial budget for the 2008 and 2012 Summer Games, and we can be sure the same will happen to Singapore should the bid succeed. It is a guaranteed financial loss which cities hope is compensated by the positive publicity and awareness generated by such an event. In the case of a minor event like the Youth Olympics, there will be little excitement about the event beyond our shores. After all, youth sports have never been an area of much popularity. The Little League World Series and FIFA U-20 World Cup are two examples of fairly well known youth competitions. Yet do they have the sort of global appeal our country seems to be looking for? Furthermore, these are single sport competitions, far cheaper to organise than multi-sport events.

Irrelevant, you say. The Youth Olympic Games are supposed to be a small-scale, cost-effective event meant for smaller cities such as Singapore which are unlikely to host the Summer Olympic Games. To that, I point out that the current estimated budget for the organising committee is over USD 75 000 000, with an additional USD 4 000 000 budgeted as non-organising committee expenses. This is also assuming the budget does not balloon as is unfailingly the case for every major sporting event due to the Law of the Rising Cost of Everything. Such an investment demands appropriate returns for our people, returns which are presently far from assured as this is to be the first Youth Olympic Games.

If we must, it would be far better to bid for the Games in 2014. By the time such a bid is submitted some time in 2011, we would have seen how the host city in 2010 fared and can make a more informed choice whether to bid, and then a more intelligent bid including a more accurate budget. The University Town in Warren would also definitely have been completed by then, and we would not need our Prime Minister to personally allay our fears that the Youth Olympic Village might just be in the forests of Pasir Laba. More importantly, our much anticipated and very expensive Sports Hub would be ready by then to host what is hopefully a marquee international event, instead of using such decrepit facilities as Kallang Tennis Centre and Tampines Bike Park.

In any case, as Mr P N Balji, Editorial Director of Today, has noted, it is not likely that Singapore will win. He went on to disingenuously pre-empt Moscow's victory by blaming Moscow's political clout and geographical location. Firstly, it is hardly sporting to gripe and whine even before the results are announced. And even if they are announced against our favour, it would be wiser to look within ourselves for the reasons for failure. If it is indeed political clout we lack, then we should work in that direction. But for now, I am hoping for Moscow to win the bid to host the 2010 Youth Olympic Games, so another country than mine can spend its millions on a kids' sports day I and countless others have absolutely no interest in.

2008-02-13T23:42:00.003+08:00

Let me expand on my lament to Mr Aaron Wham earlier this evening.

There has been a steadily increasing number of letters to the Straits Times Forum and Today's Voices that reflect quite clearly the raw stupidity of their writers. The situation has become so bad that weekly sniggers shared with my brother have become almost daily affairs.

Two of my favourite examples appeared last year in Today. One writer wrote to complain about how the National Environment Agency failed to turn up when he called for the help to dispose of - get this - a dead Aedes mosquito. The other classic was that of a writer suggesting Sesame Street themed parking coupons.

Of late, letters bearing messages of idiocy have been published fast and furious. Daily the government is bombarded with demands of all sorts, each one more ridiculous than the next: waive the maid levy, punish roadhogging, organise a night cycling event, and I quote, "Could the work for BTO projects be speeded up and completed in two to three years' time?", as if building flats is as easy as packing a school bag.

However, I was inspired on this particular day to blog about this because today a new champion emerged from the crowded field of contenders. In today's Straits Times Forum, a Mr Wong Fook Seng expressed his concern "over the potential hazard to our water supply" caused by Ah Meng's burial site next to Upper Seletar Reservoir. This is a preposterous concern beyond belief. Firstly, when has burial ever caused any sort of health hazard? Billions of people have been buried in the history of man, and trillions of animals and living things have all died and returned to the earth. How does burial present any health hazard? Secondly, the great ape was buried near the reservoir, not in the reservoir. Even if it was a massive pile of garbage that was being buried at the same spot, I doubt there would be much effect on the water itself. Finally, the water in the reservoir is already not potable. Fish, turtles and rumours of crocodiles all live beneath the surface of the reservoir. They excrete and egest waste material, they die and decompose. It is our famous water treatment process that matters. We even drink treated sewage water.

There. I can't believe I just argued against such a ridiculous idea. But it is cause for concern. (The increasing number of stupid letters, not the buried orang utan.) I hope it is not because my people are really losing their heads amidst the soaring prices everywhere, but because of falling editing standards at the Straits Times Forum.

2008-02-07T13:04:00.000+08:00

ORD lo!

2008-01-29T10:17:00.000+08:00

The more faithful and observant among the readers of this blog (of which I doubt there are any) might have noted that I omitted an important tradition this year: the annual BCS Championship Game predictions. This was due to very careless negligence on my part and is a mistake I will strive to avoid next year. I understand that you were all awaiting with bated breath the words of a soothsayer.

The Super Bowl now beckons. My guesses in this regard have fared far worse. I have spent an entire season praying for the Patriots to lose a game, to no avail. I never dreamt I would say this, but next Monday morning I will be hoping that the Manning brothers win two consecutive Super Bowls. The lesser of two evils, I suppose.

2008-01-20T20:44:00.000+08:00

In light of the current focus on transport in Singapore, I would like to put forth an idea. Our roads should have fewer overpasses (overhead bridges, to put it in proper English) and more traffic light-controlled pedestrian crossings, especially in residential towns.

Any perfunctory observation will inform one that our overpasses are woefully underused. (Although, of course, my case would be much stronger with statistics.) This is due to one primary reason: the need to climb a steep flight of stairs or a very long ramp to get onto the pass. Many find it too much of a bother to put themselves to such a physically strenuous task. We can fault pedestrians for this, but it is simply human nature that will not change unless there is severe enforcement of the rule against jaywalking. In many cases, we can hardly fault the pedestrian: the elderly, the physically challenged and the wheelchair assisted, for instance. The cold truth is that jaywalking will continue at any stretch of road with no convenient pedestrian crossing and reasonably sparse traffic. Traffic lights are therefore necessary to control traffic to allow pedestrians to cross roads safely and without unnecessary physical strain.

An increase in the number of traffic lights on our roads will also slow down vehicular traffic. It is not uncommon to observe vehicles flying along roads in densely populated residential areas at speeds far above 50 kilometres per hour. Such speed is unnecessary in residential areas and presents a considerable threat to the safety of pedestrians and other vehicles. A higher number of traffic lights would serve to reduce traffic speed within crowded areas. This will also make roads more accomodating to cyclists. The benefits of cycling for the individual and the community have been thoroughly expounded upon by many others, and I will not go into detail on that.

The only roads which belong to motor vehicles are the expressways, where overpasses retain their relevance. All other roads, especially roads in residential towns, have to be shared by motor vehicles, human powered vehicles, and pedestrians. Such sharing would be facilitated by a convergence of speeds of the various modes of transport. Increasing the number of traffic light-controlled crossings in place of overpasses would go a long way towards this intermediate goal, and hence to the eventual aim of safe roads for everyone in Singapore.

2008-01-17T20:49:00.000+08:00

I hope all of you have been looking forward to the monthly update to this blog. I am sure very much happened in everyone's life this past month, which included Christmas and the transition to a new year. My twentieth birthday also passed, about a month ago now. I have extracted two wisdom teeth and will be doing away with the remaining two, for they are impacted and I wish to take full advantage of the dental benefits provided by the Singapore Armed Forces before I leave full-time service.

That glorious day draws ever nearer, and I am getting a regular tantalising sample of it almost daily as I consume medical leave. The future beyond the beautiful day remains fuzzy as ever, but no matter, it will sort itself out. I am far too excited to be worrying about such minor issues.

I registered for the Singapore Biathlon and the Bintan Triathlon, due in March and May respectively. I hope I do not bring shame upon myself at these two events, especially not in the former where my sister will be joining me in competition.

In other areas I have stagnated somewhat. The expert minesweeper record at the office computer continues to elude me and will likely do so forever. In consolation, I broke my own beginner and intermediate records on that machine, setting the bar at 3 and 29 seconds for future generations of unfortunate PTIs to threaten.

I have hardly played pool over the past months. It will probably be well into the Chinese new year before I pursue this hobby again. Does anyone have any idea when the results of the 9th Chief of Army Essay Competition will be announced?

2007-12-15T14:58:00.000+08:00

I spent a small fortune (to me) on an entry level triathlon bicycle, only to have my brother ride the chains off almost right away. While I undertake a self-taught crash course in bicycle repair and maintenance, it is fairly certain that he will not ride the bicycle again, not only because I have my reservations, but also because of the fear he has acquired of the roads.

A conundrum I have to deal with is the question of wearing a helmet. I am staunchly anti-compulsion when it comes to helmets, and am very glad that Singapore has not gone down the road of helmet compulsion. However, at a personal level, I have yet to decide whether I should wear one. There are many benefits to both. Safety on one side, money saved and the feeling of freedom on the other.

2007-12-09T14:27:00.000+08:00

I emphatically broke the 100 second barrier over a week ago, stopping the clock at 90 seconds. Since then, progress has been difficult and I have reduced the regularity of practice somewhat. 90 is a very lovely number for now.

I took slightly longer to complete my first marathon, recording a chip time slightly slower than the mean of 5:42 or so for this race. Several interesting nuggets of information have been gleaned from my research into marathon running.

The Standard Chartered Singapore Marathon is among the slowest in the world. The mean time of almost 400 000 marathon finishes in the "US and A" in 2006 was 4:45. The slowest city marathon, the Honolulu Marathon, had a mean finish time of 6:02. That is with 24000 finishers, almost two and a half times the number in Singapore. The Nike Women's Marathon, with 95% of participants female, had an average finish time of 5:18. The similarly sized Walt Disney World Marathon (about 10000 finishers) averages around that time as well. Part of the reason is of course the heat and humidity in Singapore, but that can hardly explain the huge gulf in standards. Another factor is the mass appeal of the Standard Chartered Marathon, and the relative novelty of distance running in Singapore. The average time will likely continue to increase, until a critical mass of participants is reached and organisers no longer freely welcome all and sundry (such as yours truly) to embarrass themselves at this event.

Older people are faster marathon runners. Men aged 40-44 have the fastest average time, in addition to forming the largest age group. Men aged 25-29, which most of us would expect to be in the prime of their physical health, average over 4 minutes slower. Men aged 20-24 do even worse, averaging more than 7 minutes slower than the men old enough to father them. The world record holder, Haile Gebrselassie, just set the world record aged 34. Daniel Ling is Singapore's fastest marathon runner right now. He is 29, and ran a comparatively pedestrian 3:45 just two years ago. His mentor M. Rameshon finished second among Singaporeans last week, and he is 42. I cannot imagine any physiological reason for this phenomenon.

2007-11-07T13:43:00.000+08:00

So the Diamondbacks were swept by the then white hot Rockies, who were in turn swept by the resurgent Red Sox. On the bright side, the team whose replica jersey and clubhouse sneakers I own became World Series champions for the second time in four years. We will have to wait till next year though, before the promise held by the embarrassment of young talent at the Diamondbacks' disposal is realised.

The brief nature of all but one of the postseason series lends much credence to the school of thought that baseball is a sport of a cyclical nature. Bad teams regularly go on winning streaks, and the Yankees can have a start as abysmal as the one they went through this year. A long season such as the 162 game MLB schedule is necessary to separate the cream from the crop. I have been more inclined of late to believe that the postseason is therefore unfairly tilted in favour of teams with a few very reliable starting pitchers and a couple of decent relievers. If their bats become hot at the right time, the team can go a long way. If not, they will soon fall by the wayside. The Rockies and Red Sox are good examples.

Perhaps each league should be divided into two, and the winners of each division will play for the pennant and the league champions for the World Series. Or with the current three division format, the division winner with the best record will proceed straight to the LCS, and the other two will play for the right to challenge them for the pennant. The wild card provides for exciting playoffs at the expense of teams that perform consistently throughout the 162 game season. Too many wild card winners have won the World Series, at the St. Louis Cardinals took the cake last year for being one of the worst teams ever to win it all.

Minesweeper is a game that tests one's reflexes, hand-eye coordination and speed of thought. It is a game I picked up in the hours of boredom in the office, and I have given myself the target of breaking the expert level record on this computer of 105 seconds. If I may ridicule myself by publishing by current string: 3/ 32/ 109.

2007-10-10T13:51:00.000+08:00

The Diamondbacks swept aside the Cubs with hardly any trouble and now face their division rivals from Colorado in the NLCS. One does not anticipate an exciting series, with the Diamondbacks having the far superior rotation and a bullpen that is rested and on a roll. Their bats have also really heated up, and the Rockies do not appear to have much of a chance. The Red Sox also have the upper hand over the Tribe. At this rate, we are looking at a very real possibility of a Diamondbacks - Red Sox Fall Classic, a notion that I have entertained quite a bit this past week. What a way to conclude this season it would be for me, with my favourite teams in both leagues facing each other in the World Series. In such a dream scenario, I would pray that my heart is not broken by the Red Sox, a team I love but infinitely less than my Diamondbacks.

2007-09-27T14:58:00.000+08:00

Four games away from the end of the regular season, the Arizona Diamondbacks still rest atop the National League West. It is a one game lead the Padres and Rockies are eyeing greedily, and one team or perhaps two among the three will not be in the playoffs. Not the Diamondbacks, surely, and I look forward to the playoffs with much hope and excitement. I have planned several days off in anticipation of the series ahead, which I hope will not be denied me as has been the case occasionally.

Private tuition appears to be a fairly lucrative avenue of revenue for people my age and station. An attempt at arranging music lessons at over thirty dollars an hour fell short because of scheduling constraints, but it is heartening to learn that there are people out there with enough desire to pay such amounts for leisurely lessons on a keyboard.

The examinations of my siblings are nearly here, not least my sister's A Levels and brother's PSLE. I pray that they do as well as they hope, but one feels rather helpless observing their efforts from the sidelines.

I will be standing guard over Rocky Hill Camp tonight, without a doubt the most isolated godforsaken military camp in Singapore. The need for my services would do well to be questioned, but it is a question that numbers among the countless others that no one dares to ask. Or perhaps it is because we know the answer ourselves: "because we love our land."

2007-09-07T10:18:00.000+08:00

Apart from the race to the MLB postseason, September brings with it the start of another NFL season. The Chicago Bears made it to the Super Bowl early this year before self-destructing, and I hope they take it a step further this season. With one of the best defences in the league and an ostensibly more consistent Rex Grossman, it is no pipe dream.

The Rugby World Cup is also nearly upon us. I am again rooting, as I did four years ago when this blog started, for the two teams in green: Ireland and South Africa. Ireland does not seem to have much of a chance beyond the quarter-finals, but the Springboks look good enough for the William Webb Ellis Trophy. We will find out soon enough.

2007-09-04T15:04:00.000+08:00

The Scabbard, the officers' mess on Pulau Tekong, is pleasantly tranquil most of the day, making it another excellent place from which to blog, now that the Internet is inaccessible from my office. My penultimate complete batch of basic military training draws to a close a week from now, drawing me ever closer to a beautiful day.

The Arizona Diamondbacks have slipped a game behind the San Diego Padres, losing a division lead they had held for a while. Nonetheless, with a lead in the wild card standing and the Diamondbacks bound to climb out of a funk, I am certain they will make the playoffs and reign as world champions this October.

Meanwhile Everton continue their fine start to the season. As an inconsistent team that varies its performance on a seasonal and not weekly basis, one foresees that this season will see the Toffees make a run at a Champions' League berth.

I have occasionally allowed myself an indulgence in consideration of life between February and August next year. A job is likely, although I have no clue as to what. A holiday overseas seems timely. A short trip, though, or an adventure of a lifetime? Cost is also a factor, and I suppose I will eventually find myself too lazy to move at all.

2007-08-20T07:19:00.000+08:00

It has struck me quite suddenly this perfect Monday morning as I await a 16 km run that the Army Half Marathon is to be held this Sunday. I registered for the Standard Chartered Singapore Marathon on impulse. I pray that my ability to run improves drastically and quickly.

2007-08-07T09:45:00.000+08:00

It has been an eternity, and it will likely continue to be as long as I am unable to blog from home and only from the comfort of my office. It is more dormitory than office, I must admit, with exercise mats spread beneath desks and in corners, serving a purpose far removed from the leg raises and sit ups they were manufactured for.

There has been plenty to blog about, but I have very unfortunately lost the desire to record my abundance of brilliant ideas down. Barry Bonds is certainly the flavour of the month, and as I type this he awaits his turn to rewrite history. Now of course no discussion of Bonds is complete without an acknowledgement of the BALCO elephant that is always in the room, but that is all I will do: acknowledge, and thereafter ignore. He has never tested positive for performance enhancing drugs in a system that has been designed to catch steroid users. It is not up to us as fans and ordinary citizens to indict him on our own based on the shaky premise of illegally leaked grand jury testimony. And of course, I have always been doubtful about the illegitimacy of performance enhancing drugs, for it is a difficult line to draw between drugs that should and should not be permitted. How is THG any more immoral than flaxseed oil?

Last Friday I obtained a driving licence with a fair amount of luck, thus achieving what I had resolved at the start of this year. I use the term "driving licence" out of respect for our old colonial masters, but the distinction between that and the American term is interesting. Should the activity or person be distinguished in the grant of a licence? In other words, in saying "I can drive", should the emphasis be on "I" or "drive", on me joining the ranks of drivers or on driving becoming one of the many activities I am capable of performing? A curious if minor difference, one that spawns the two different terms used on opposite sides of the pond. In my opinion, because "driving" is more commonly used as a verb than as a noun, "driver's licence" would be just slightly more appropriate.

In any case, driving a manual transmission vehicle is a genuinely enjoyable activity. I suppose it is a manifestation of a masculine (according to Allan and Barbara Pease) love of machines. Automatic transmissions, on the other hand, are boring and dangerous at the same time, the boredom leading to the danger.

Later.

2007-06-11T17:06:00.000+08:00

Two months on, I have finally found a place where the sun still shines on Blogger. It is here in my office when the sun is about to set on another dreary Monday that I will resuscitate the weblog that I am sure you had all believed dead. Slumber deeply it will continue to, but never eternally.

There have been countless issues I have considered discussing during this lengthy interlude longer than the entire 02/07 Basic Military Training cohort, ranging from Singaporean exceptionalism (which I am certain I will mention again in the future) to cricket to inebriation to the old favourites of National Service and Major League Baseball. Much of what I thought has been lost forever in the tides of time.

The tides of time certainly behave very curiously, for they are perceived very differently at different junctures in life. It is widely accepted wisdom that time passes faster as we get older and that consciously observing time slows it down (a watched pot never boils). I have fallen victim to the latter temptation, regularly considering the imminence of my ORD. Quite contrary to increasing said imminence or my perception thereof, each day seems to drag longer than the one before. On the other hand it may be only because the workload appears to be increasing. In any case, I am beyond the halfway point of my term of service at my current unit. My outlook on life should improve manifold by the end of the year.

Finally, it must be mentioned that the new section head is remarkably dull for a human being. To add insult to this injury, his physique is aesthetically atrocious. His consequent inferiority complex results in his very roughshod treatment of us. Not so long ago, I believe I gushed about the pleasure of working here. No longer is that my fortune. I hope to book out soon and return home for another episode of Desperate Housewives 3.

2007-04-01T14:33:00.000+08:00

The last two movies I watched both happened to be British in origin. Further thought along that line led me to consider that their similarities went beyond mere nationality to encompass a few key themes of life, particularly that of chaos.

The History Boys reflected how history, and indeed life, is merely "one fucking thing after another". Everyday, our lives come to an infinite number of junctions, each of which offer an infinite number of roads. We are given a minuscule number of options at an infinitesimally small fraction of these junctions, yet the paths we choose have a tremendous effect on the rest of our lives, one that is only magnified as time passes. Yet the rest of the innumerable forks in our route of life we pass through recklessly and uncontrollably, whether by choice or otherwise. It is these uncontrolled junctions that cause us great grief and frustration on hindsight, for when our lives take a turn for the worse we regret not controlling or being able to control our direction at that earlier juncture. Dorothy Lintott summed it up best when she wondered aloud, "What if the lights had been green?", a rhetorical question that lends itself nicely to my analogy to traffic junctions.

It was such wondering by my siblings that led me to view Mr Bean's Holiday in a similar light. I watched the movie with a light heart (and heavy eyelids) and never considered that it was anything other than a comedy. Encouraged by my brother's insistence on the many hidden messages in the various Bean series and movies (the alien abduction in the final episode of the animated series, Bean's falling from the sky at the start of every Mr Bean episode and the musical finale of Mr Bean's Holiday all apparently point to Bean being an extraterrestrial creature), I pondered the movie a bit and realised that it is a stark demonstration on the chaotic nature of life. What if Bean hadn't gone over to look at the model trains after thinking that he didn't have the winning ticket? What if he didn't feel like having a baguette at Gare de Lyon, or if he hadn't knocked the cup of coffee over while posing before the train?

2007-03-27T20:01:00.000+08:00

It is revealing that the last post on this blog came at around the time my section underwent a change of command. Nowhere near as momentous or pompous an occasion as the change of command of our Army or defence force, this change wrought tidal effects on our lives, some of which can explain the long hiatus here.

Intent on attaining such lofty ideals and goals as upholding the identity and boosting the image of fitness specialists, the new boss has imposed a plethora of redundant initiatives, none of which go any way towards improving the quality of our lives. Compounding our dissatisfaction with the situation is the impression that certain personnel are somehow exempt from the regulations of the new regime. As always, it is only a perception of the wider picture that provides genuine motivation to work, although threat of punitive action and frustration at the incapacity of some to reason do contribute as well.

Meanwhile, I began to learn how to drive under the tutelage of a retired gardener, having been prevented from doing so for over a year by the exigencies of service. I also had what is becoming an increasingly scarce opportunity to meet my erstwhile classmates of RI 4P 2003. Sharp, witty and bellicose even after several shots of vodka, I enjoyed the verbal jousting while appreciating the reminder that there are a lot of people smarter than me in this world.

My tenth (counting generously) season of following Major League Baseball begins on April Fools' Day. With the return of the Big Unit, the development of Brandon Webb into a top ace and the introduction of snazzy new uniforms, I am certain that this is our year.

2007-02-14T19:16:00.000+08:00

I have considered of late that my life is as good as it has ever been. I undertake hardly any responsibility and find myself all too often with an obscene abundance of free time at my disposal, which I then direct to myriad pleasures, a selection of which I will share here.

The presence of a pair of full-length snooker tables at the specialists' mess to which I subscribe has allowed me hours of intense practice and competition. Quite naturally, my ability in cue sports has seen a marked improvement, particularly at the pool table. In particular, I find my potting more consistent and my position play and defence more instinctive. On occasion, I feel a pleasant sensation of control, especially with a much stronger draw shot learnt under the dedicated coaching of a remarkably talented mess boy.

As foreseen in an earlier post, Super Puzzle Fighter II Turbo is occupying much of my time in the office. A complex and nuanced game based on the construction and subsequent destruction of coloured bricks, it has captivated most personnel in my section. I must proudly note that the standard of our play is significantly higher than the average I observe on YouTube, although I concede that I have some way to go before I consistently match the best of my peers.

I have also finally begun practising the art of growing money by purchasing some stock with my modest savings. I hope to accumulate more funds for personal use and some experience in this field before I enter the workforce. All has not gone well thus far, however. One hopes for a Budget friendly to corporations announced tomorrow.

I was initially fairly excited about the trial of Ehren Watada. However, the US Army's refusal to let the trial become one of the administration's decision to go to war extinguished that interest and it appears Watada might escape on a technicality. On another note, he looks pretty sharp in uniform.

In conclusion, I'd do well to remember these days. May you have a happy new year.

2007-02-05T17:50:00.000+08:00

I have little to say regarding the Bears' implosion in Miami. Instead, I will criticise, as I did last year, the commentary on the Super Bowl as broadcast on the NFL Network for an international audience and hence on ESPN in Singapore. This time, the analysts did a good job of assuming neither ignorance nor expertise of the game on the part of their audience, striking a fair balance between educating and game-calling while sounding rather bored with proceedings. However, they took liberal pleasure in poking fun at football players, despite one of them being a former NFL player.

On the Bears' DT Ian Scott dropping a possible interception and expressing horror at himself:
"No one expected him to make that catch. He's the only person who's surprised."

On the Bears' FS Danieal Manning also nearly intercepting a pass:
"That's what safeties are. They're wide receivers who can't catch."

On athletes in general:
"They're forcing the Bears defense to think, and when you force athletes to think, they make mistakes."

2007-01-28T15:10:00.000+08:00

In a week's time, the Chicago Bears face the Indianapolis Colts in Miami in the forty-first edition of the greatest show on earth. I felt fairly proud about again picking the correct winner in both conference championship games, until I remembered picking the wrong one in both AFC divisional playoff games. Nevertheless, there was no mistake on the NFC side of the ball right from the beginning of the season with the Bears taking a colourful route to Dolphin Stadium. No prizes for guessing who I will be rooting for then, and all that's left to do is to clear a day of leave or off next Monday.

For today, the elegant and proud Roger Federer will probably display his divine ability against the Chilean to bring his Grand Slam total to double digits.

2007-01-09T18:50:00.000+08:00

My Inner Eye has proved to be remarkably accurate with this college bowl season. On the fifth of this month, I predicted thus:

Putting my Inner Eye to the test again, I pick Florida over Ohio State at the BCS Championship Game. With both teams featuring fleets of talented wide receivers, Florida's pass rush should bring sufficient pressure against Troy Smith, whereas Ohio State's secondary may struggle as it did against Michigan.

Quarterback statistics
Troy Smith: 4 of 14 for 35 yards
Chris Leak: 25 of 36 for 213 yards

Here I am immodest enough to proclaim that I am fairly prescient with regard to such matters, and certainly more so than supposed experts and analysts.

2007-01-07T20:39:00.000+08:00

Poor Tony Romo may have just left an ignominous legacy of his short NFL career. One must remember that it was Romo who led the Cowboys to the postseason in the first place, stepping up to take the reins in place of the struggling Drew Bledsoe. Playing a position on special teams no starting quarterback should be playing, Romo could have scored even after the slipped hold - if only someone could block Jordan Babineaux. Martin Gramatica could have been that guy and would have been feted as a hero in a way kickers and Argentinians have never been, if he just dove or reached a little further for Babineaux. It is games like this that make one wonder if football should be a game of inches, not yards. Despite my disappointment in the defeat of the Cowboys and the failure of a kicker to make a great non-kicking play, it was a truly thrilling affair that whets my appetite for the rest of the playoffs, particularly the involvement of the Chicago Bears.

2007-01-05T23:23:00.000+08:00

Just in case some of you have forgotten, I posted this last at the end of last year in anticipation of the Rose Bowl Game presented by Citi:

Going against public opinion, I believe that the Trojans' passing game will overcome a Michigan defence still reeling from their capitulation against Ohio State.

Putting my Inner Eye to the test again, I pick Florida over Ohio State at the BCS Championship Game. With both teams featuring fleets of talented wide receivers, Florida's pass rush should bring sufficient pressure against Troy Smith, whereas Ohio State's secondary may struggle as it did against Michigan.

2006-12-31T16:27:00.000+08:00

It is that time of the year again, the time when I make my traditional uninformed commentary on the college bowl season. This morning I enjoyed the inaugural Chick-fil-A Bowl between Georgia and Virginia Tech. Particularly amusing was Chick-fil-A's plea for us to "eat more chicken!" (Certainly not advice I would follow, as I am not fond of the bland flavour of chicken.) More football will follow in the upcoming long weekend, with the Bears' season closer against the old and currently hapless enemies tomorrow morning and the much-hyped Rose Bowl Game presented by Citi (since when did it become a Game and not a Bowl?) on Tuesday morning. Going against public opinion, I believe that the Trojans' passing game will overcome a Michigan defence still reeling from their capitulation against Ohio State.

I recall remarking to my father when the Internet was entering mainstream culture in the mid- to late nineties that one could find information on anything on the Internet. These days when it is not so much information but promotion, I am truly thankful that Wikipedia exists, and there my childhood fascination with the Internet survives, where one can still find information on anything in the world or beyond.

The year past has been interesting and unusual for me, given that it was the first without school since 1991. It came in five distinct phases: the first three months of work and play, the next two in Basic Military Training, ten weeks on Basic Section Leader Course, twelve on Basic Fitness Specialist Course (notice how they are all merely "Basic") and the final month or so back at Pulau Tekong, which will continue into next year. I was very ignorant of the passage of time throughout this year. On one hand, time seemed to drag on eternally for much of the year when I was in training, yet today, the final day of the year, has pounced on me very suddenly and unexpectedly. And even though I left formal schooling behind for the time being, academic developments continued to exert a tremendous effect on the rest of my life. In particular, scraping a successful application to law school made other things a lot easier by putting my mind at ease with regard to life after ORD.

The next year promises a thoroughly mundane existence consisting mostly of PT lessons, sleep and Puzzle Fighter II Turbo. For the second New Year resolution ever declared on this blog, I resolve to be licensed to drive by the end of 2007.

2006-12-26T21:33:00.000+08:00

Comparing (an act that is hardly recommended, but always tempting) the four phases of my military service thus, I have found that the two on the charming island of Pulau Tekong have been the hardest to adapt to in vastly different ways. The two courses I attended at the remote Pasir Laba Camp were almost purely about receiving and following instructions and enjoying myself as much as possible while doing so. Presently, I find neither easy to achieve.

As physical training instructors issued with specific orders yet otherwise left to our own devices, the personnel in my section have largely taken to the tempting the ever mysterious "system" in countless means and ways. Never the sort to engage in such treacherous adventures before, I find myself now gleefully seeking the next opportunity to leave work on the backburner. I have already suffered for such pluck, but a year and a month is a long time in which to learn and practise skills more useful in the working world than those taught at any school.

A desire to excel in sport led me to hours of futility at the pool table, which continues to burn my time and money. More realistic consideration and a chance observation of a broadcast of ESPN's Great Events led me to dream about succeeding as a competitive eater, or gurgitator. I have the right build and have demonstrated remarkable potential at buffet spreads, going strong long after most have declared themselves stuffed. Probably another insane fantasy, but surely more likely than turning two for the Diamondbacks or punting for the Bears.

2006-12-17T20:16:00.000+08:00

It took me merely three weeks to accomplish what I could not in the months since I enlisted: take an extra duty. Three of them, to be precise, or as I say, one for each unit I have belonged to.

My plans to purchase a road bicycle were derailed by the discouragement of my mother and my parents' persistent persuasions to prudently expend the cash originally intended for the abovementioned purpose on driving lessons instead. Filial obligations preceding, I will have to take heed.

As the deteriorating quality of posts on this blog testifies, I think far less than I ever have, even though I have more time on my hands. On another day when inspiration is more forthcoming, I will try harder to produce something more substantial.

2006-11-28T20:45:00.000+08:00

The cherished act of leaving camp is known to all as "booking out" and its less beloved but steadfast companion as "booking in". Common sense would presume that this is a reference to the book that is signed prior to and following the conduct of the two abovementioned actions respectively. If this is so, however, why is this book named the "book in book out book"? Besides being quite a tongue twister, that would mean it is named after itself, a theoretical impossibility. It would make far more common and romantic sense to name it "the book".

The Engineer Formation Triathlon seems to be an excellent entry-level event for one to begin a potentially illustrious triathlon career, or to end it. I take it as a positive development that I have been arrowed to participate.

2006-11-17T16:56:00.000+08:00

When on a run, one is unlikely to savour each step as one gasps for air. While the runner may take in and even appreciate the physical environment, he surely does not linger that moment longer or look back and rue the step he just took. Instead, the runner looks ahead to the intended end point, perhaps quickening his pace as that point nears.

Ambling along a similar route, our friend might literally stop to smell the roses. More significantly, he may even look back on the long road he has travelled, and it is then that he feels a rush of sadness, for he cannot walk that same road again. Ahead of him the road meanders into the invisible distance, and his cadence slows as he struggles to remember the scent of the roses.

The 86th Basic Fitness Specialist Course concluded with the 40th Advanced Section Leader Course on the hallowed Leaders Square in a dramatically unexpected manner. I have come to resign myself to the fact that my full-time National Service will be disappointingly prosaic, serving in only two camps without any overseas exercise. Nevertheless, I look ahead positively to the next phase of my service, glad in the knowledge that the O in ORD has lit up.

2006-10-28T13:14:00.000+08:00

I am not usually one to fall for advertising slogans, but after rigorous individual testing over the past weeks, I am now a firm believer in a classic: Red Bull gives you wings.

I was tired and feeling under the weather, gave less effort than what I normally do, yet passed with such ease that when asked if I cheated, I considered privately that Red Bull should be illegitimised.

To conclude, I am pleased to announce that I have correctly predicted the winner at the start of the past four World Series. Not particularly impressive, but I am glad not to have listened to the experts in 2003 and this year.

2006-10-07T21:13:00.000+08:00

Far more imperceptibly than in years past, but as surely as ever, the pages of time have turned into the magical month of October. Even as I celebrate the first anniversary of my dismissal from a most charming medical institution, and even as the moon rather than the leaves turn red, my attention turns towards what the rest of the year is lived for: the postseason. Johan "Cy" Santana and his Twins are out of it before I knew what was going on, which gives us more of the endearing white shoes we know as the Oakland A's, the Diamondbacks are again nowhere to be found, and I would have loved to watch Kenny Rogers complete his gem. I wonder about the year when I can follow and score the playoff proceedings uninterrupted by such mundane concerns as school, work or National Service. I came close last year, but the A Levels loomed menacingly ahead then, tingeing my pleasure with considerable guilt. But if the opportunity does arise when I enter the workforce, I will probably clear my entire annual leave in that single perfect month, and pretend to be slaving away when everyone else busies themselves with the soccer World Cup.

I was reminded by my course commander that I am barely a month away from the end of this course. A happy thought for most, but passing out is a pleasure I may never get to savour.

2006-09-29T21:34:00.000+08:00

Personnel on course are very naturally inclined to seek the swift and smooth passage of their course such that the rewards of rank or appointment may be reaped early. This current course of mine is no different, yet a gentle whisper reminds me that this course may be among the best days of my life.

Firstly, the organisation of this course is almost ideal. Physically demanding activities of an extreme nature last for short durations, while the rest of the time is spent on more academic activities. The evenings are largely left to our personal discretion, which I exercise wisely and foolishly in equal measure. This balance of physical discipline and rest leaves me with the classic "tired but happy" feeling daily.

Secondly, as my section instructor reminds us often, this is probably the fittest we will ever be in our lives. Our fitness drops inevitably after graduation, and thereafter it is likely to be a steep downhill slide. Never again will I take on such gruelling physical training, or even have the capability to do so. Age will wreak its damage on my body in the years to come, exacerbating the effects of sloth and reminding me of these days when I take my physical fitness for granted.

2006-08-29T11:42:00.000+08:00

As newspapers dissect the psychological stimuli Singaporeans may have for dissecting Messrs Joakim Gomez and Jerry Ong of Singapore Idol, one notes that apart from their appalling singing abilities, they share sleeves with the cross emblazoned very proudly upon them. In our secular society, that is perhaps one of the innumerable factors for their polarising powers.

I proceeded to wonder about the future National Service experiences of the abovementioned Mr Gomez and his fellow finalist Mr Paul Twohill. National Service is indeed a great equaliser - but only if I may add the following caveat: it is a great equaliser of men. However, it differentiates very starkly between officers, warrant officers, specialists and their men in countless ways such as allowances, rights, privileges and responsibilities. Across the various rank strata, the civilian world is the real equaliser, as I realised to my benefit yesterday. On a crowded public bus home, a captain regarded a corporal with the air of one expecting a seat. Hesitating for the slightest moment, the corporal remembered that he was beyond the seemingly endless military fence, and remained firmly ensconced in his rightfully acquired seat. The captain's initial blushes were soon spared by the chance evacuation of another seat, and the world moved on.

2006-08-25T18:07:00.000+08:00

In the course of earning my first rank in the service, I acquainted myself with the charming confines of Jurong West Community Library. It took me a while to find it in the first place, but I managed to unearth more than a few literary gems over the span of several nights. It is a pleasure which I have been allowed to continue into the near future, and I hope to maintain a grasp on the rudiments of reading.

I have been fascinated of late by the game of fishing. Lyrically romanticised in many a novel or memoir, the idea of patiently awaiting a prize in a physically attractive environment captivated me further upon savouring some of the more rewarding maritime panoramas on Pulau Tekong. But it is not a sport kind to clueless newcomers, and, short of the fortune of meeting an expert on this pursuit, I will likely be left to wistfully watch anglers play the fish of Changi, Pasir Ris and East Coast.

2006-08-12T11:40:00.000+08:00

I doubt one ever gets used to staying away from home most of the time, for that is where the heart resides, and no heart can separate peacefully from its keeper. Yet one can come very close, which is what most try to do when they arrive at their unit, that promised land so mysterious to all trainees.

Some trainees, however, are as fortunate to undergo training so focused it resembles unit life at times. For these people, they ease through command school training with a tiny voice in the back of their heads whispering the concern that advanced training or even unit life may not be half as smooth.

2006-07-29T16:27:00.000+08:00

Two realisations dawned upon me early this morning well before first light. The first regards my growing hatred of mosquitoes. Gone are the days when I would appreciate for a fleeting movement the beautifully alternating black and white bands on the legs of a mosquito I had freshly slain; now I foully curse the entire mosquito family tree. My mother still faithfully blames my spectacular A Level grades on my battle with dengue fever, and this morning they conducted a division quick attack upon my sensitive skin.

I also realised the very real threat of a phenomenon popularly abbreviated as "SCT". I had always believed that a physically awakened mind and body were more than sufficient to deal with any military activities, despite the cautionary example set earlier this year over the lunar new year. Fortunately for me, I awoke mentally in time to perceive that a rifle to which a grenade launcher was attached was supposed to be in my hands. No, such hasty flight I had never made before.