Finally have got a bit of spare time to myself and thought I'd check up on my sister's blog and all the denizens of her mad world. Or all the mad denizens of her world.
It's literally freezing here-- I understand why people wear ski masks to keep their faces warm now. Gotta get myself a pair of earmuffs too. It's like every inch of exposed skin leaches the heat out of your whole body. And I'm going to Scotland in a couple of weeks. In the middle of bloody winter. When the wind starts in the Arctic and sweeps down the Russian Steppes, gathering frost and snow and ice and ends by billowing across the barren moors and bleak fields. Think Macbeth. Think Wuthering Heights. I am going there. Bleargh! Not nice. Still, it's meant to be a big party too.
Yesterday we, the LSE jessups team, had a nice little chat with our Professor (actually it was mostly him talking and making jokes and me being expected to laugh politely). Interestingly, he was brought up in Singapore. And as the introductions progressed, it became apparent that 3/4 of the team had some connection with our fair city. There are 2 Sgeans, 1 Malaysian who was brought up in Singapore, 1 Canadian who having spent 3 years in Singapore, now says 'wah lau' with conviction, and an English guy who now knows how to say 'wah lau' like a true blue. Wouldn't it be funny if we really made it to the finals in Washington and if we came up against the Singapore team? The organisers probably wouldn't be able to tell us apart!
Other news: Gloria's birthday is on the 8th of February! Don't forget in all the CNY rush. I'll probably be improvising a steamboat over here-- we'll use a rice cooker to keep the broth boiling. How sad we are, lonely little chinese people in a strange and foreign land! Argos (like Tangs in SG) does not have steamboats we can buy then deviously return the next day saying that we don't want it anymore-- a perk of the western idea of being able to return clothes, consumer durables and other useful things you sometimes need but don't want to buy and store, eg. champagne glasses.
But of course I don't do that. I return them a week later.
Last night was Australia Day. Having a good friend who had a good friend over from Sydney, not to mention an aussie boyfriend, I had to go out and see what the fuss was all about. You see, while national day in singapore is an excuse to laze around the house, catch up on some much needed sleep or online entertainment or reading of the non-academic sort, watch the parade and alternately scorn or revere the LKY weepy speech according to political bent, look out for the planes and the flag and the fireworks, then have a good dinner and go to sleep,
in London, Singapore National Day is wearing red and white and going to a park (since it is a nice summer day in august) where many other singaporeans are already drinking canned tau huey chui and the occassional illicit tiger for the boys and red wine for the matrons. It is standing still for the national anthem and saying the pledge and secretly thinking what a wanker you look like except other people are deadly serious about this. Ok don't laugh. These are the future leaders of Singapore, man! They are your civil servants, your teachers, your policemen, your future politicians, all only in London for a short stint before returning to loyally serve you people! You should be damned relieved that they are taking their patriotism very seriously!
National day in London is eating slightly sub-standard curry puff that tastes like heaven although it is potato mush instead of chunks of potato, exchanging cooking tips with other singaporeans, and watching Kenny unsuccessfully trying to wrangle a part time job from a lady he just found out runs an extremely profitable and well known real estate business. It is a 'net-working' avenue, although I find the way Sgreans explicitly say 'I am here to network' quite disturbing.
Australia Day in Australia is, apparently, going to the beach/bar/someone's house to party and drinking yourself silly. Until you make a technicolour pavement pizza or ralph or throw your voice which means in SG, to merlion. Which is what they do every weekend anyway.
Australia Day in London is a completely different affair. For one, the patriotism in the air is palpable, not in a sombre 'Singapore made it so far with so little, we are so proud' way but in a 'Happy Australia Day mate! Yay! Woohoo! VB! Ralph!' way. Many people wore T-shirts with the flag on them and even had little aussie flags painted on their faces. I cannot imagine the same happening in a singaporean bar on national day. The bar was awash with various local aussie brews which I sampled at first with trepidation then with less and less inhibition until I, as well, was singing along to such perennial favourites as Stand By Me, Losing My Religion and Time of Your Life, putting my arms around complete strangers, and cheering the aussie atheletes on the screens all around. If there are 3 things that define australians, they may be devotion to sport, beer, and affinity for stopping in the middle of conversations to shout out lyrics of the chorus of a song. No, I did not hear anyone sing waltzing mathilda, although I expect if someone had started you wouldn't be able to stop the whole crowd. No, I did not know that Stand By Me was a song you could sing along to in a pub either.
I loved it.
So did Cecely, my BBC (to the uninitiated, British born chinese, which is what english honkies here call themselves) friend and her ABC (aussie born chinese, apparently) friend up from Sydney on a holiday, and my ABV boyfriend too. Do you know that if we are to follow this acronym we would be called SBCs, Singaporean born Chinese?
Living here does have its bright spots sometimes. Although I really really really miss old chang kee curry puffs! A lot!
PleasAnt Gloria, not Pleasent! Please tell me you knew that.
