18th entry - End of 2008 already?

Another Christmas just flew by. Like Garfield in the comic strip, I waited so long for it, and then, its gone. The New Year has arrived, and as I was writing this blog entry, I realised I had forgotten the details of how I had spent the first day of 2009.

The love of my life, S, came to fetch me this morning to the neighbourhood that I grew up in. The first thing we did when we arrived was to visit the marketplace where I used to buy breakfast on weekends and holidays, or whenever I was neither schooling nor working. Eating the food that I would usually order when I went to the market brought back memories of my childhood and adolescence - thosai masala (a crispy, thin vegetarian pancake with mild potato curry filling) from the Indian hawker stall, handmade bao and steamed glutinous rice with chicken & mushroom, you-tiao (crispy fried dough sticks), and minced pork and mushroom noodle.

I downloaded a picture taken of the market by another netizen and fellow blogger (Source: ZM's blog). The marketplace is quite typical of many "neighbourhood centres" built during the 80s by the Housing and Development Board, which enables residents to gain easy access to grocery and sundry goods shops, and cooked food eateries (known colloqially in Singapore as "hawker centers" and "coffee shops"). Neighbourhood centres will typically also have small bakeries, clinics, barbers/hairdressers as well as small furniture, stationery and clothing shops. These centres are slowly diminishing, giving way to large, air-conditioned buildings (aka "shopping malls") like those in Tampines and Sengkang.

After the meal, we explored the neighbourhood centre. Most of the shops facing the main road were open and some of them were even doing quite well considering that picky Singaporeans these days prefer to shop comfortably in modern malls. As expected, the row of shops nearest to my apartment block were quieter; in fact one entire row of shops had been left vacant. The owner of the bakery that I frequented (not because of the variety or quality of bread sold but because of convenience) recognized me and lamented that people's tastes were changing, implying that it was struggling to keep up. I guessed that it was only a matter of time before the owner would decide to wind up the business.

Next, S and I visited the apartment block in which I had lived for about 28 years. I noticed that the lift was quite small and dark compared to the one in the apartment that I am currently staying, and it did not stop at every floor. When we reached the floor, we were greeted with the nearly panoramic and unobstructed view of many neighbouring estates and even a glimpse of the sea and the Central Business Destrict. Having a penchant for nature, S commented that I was lucky to live just opposite a large park with lush greenery and tall trees.

On this trip down memory lane, I was greatly saddened by 2 things. Firstly, the Primary (Elementary) School that I studied in for 6 years had been demolished. I knew it closed down a few years ago, but I had hoped to catch a glimpse of it before the building was no more. When I saw the empty field overgrown with grass where my primary school building had stood, I felt as if it never existed - a most frightening thought, like waking up in the Twilight Zone and realising I was trapped in a different time-space dimension.

Secondly, I discovered that my former apartment had been rented out to some foreign workers or students. There was dried paint splashed all over the front steps leading to the doorway, indicating that one of the subsequent tenants or owners of the apartment owed money to "loan-sharks" (illegal money-lenders). What was once a glossy, beautifully polished marble floor in the living room (which we loved to sit and even sleep on) had turned into a dull, dirty surface that nobody with clean bare feet would consider stepping on. The sand-tex (a rough type of wall surfacing popular in the 80s) walls that my parents were so proud of were painted over in a ghastly shade of pale green, and the tenants pasted sticky brown tape all over it to keep wires in place. I felt as though my former apartment was disfigured and abused - like an innocent and lovely woman who had been violated by a vile rapist and beaten up.

Only five years ago, this apartment had housed a small, contented family. It shared this family's joy and laughter in better times, and gave warmth and shelter to this same family in bad times. It was almost a part of the family. Now, it was like a prostitute's den, used as a temporary living quarters for transient foreigners who did not know of its past, nor cared of its future.

I weep uncontrollably as I write this. I feel much, much sadder now than when I moved out of the apartment 5 years ago. And angry. Why didn't the subsequent buyer(s) take good care of the apartment? Mostly, I am upset with myself. I blame me for not choosing a good buyer or tenant. I should have been more thorough in screening those prospective buyers and in selecting a responsible agent who was not merely keen to close a deal and earn a commission.

Too much emotion over nothing? That maybe right, since I cannot do anything about the reality. I suppose the "old me" is simply unwilling to accept the reality that the "new me" sees.



2008 has not exactly been a good year for me. I realised that I didn't enjoy my current job and it was unsuitable for me, but I had not found a better substitute and my career future was uncertain. The financial turmoil sparked off by the US credit crisis not only ruined my hopes of making any profit from my investments, but also threatened to wipe out my hard-earned savings and made me fearful of losing my job. Tons of money spent on facials, beauty products and vitamins went down the drain after I contracted chicken pox, which made me loathe my appearance and lose my self-confidence. Due to a lack of exercise I gained a couple of kilos (5 to be exact) and this dealt yet another blow to my self-esteem - not that I think being fat is wrong (although I tend to agree that being overweight is bad for health) or that I dislike being fat per se (hmmm, actually I do, but this is besides the point), but I allowed myself to degenerate. Its like, I look in the mirror and discover - HEY! This isnt me!! This is NOT how I am SUPPOSED to look!!!

Looking at the political uncertainty in Thailand, the Middle East, Afghanistan and India/Pakistan, "World Peace" is definitely not something we can expect in 2009, though I hope its not all doom and gloom like what the Prime Minister warns in his New Year message. I will be contented if 2009 turns out to be a slightly better-than-expected year for me...and for everyone out there as well.


P.S. Check out the Garfield website for more Garfield comic strips.