Sick Saturday, May 30 2009

I’m sick, as in end-of-the-term sick (I hadn’t known there was such a phenomenon till I found out at least two other teachers were sick, including my mom). After a long parent-teacher meeting on Thursday night (which lasted till 10), during which I chugged down three full glasses of water while conversing with parent after parent, I woke up with a splitting headache (before the alarm clock went off, ugh!) on Friday. We teachers stood in the parade square for over an hour while prize after prize was given out and announcements made. For most of the day, I moved frequently between the heavily air-conditioned staff-room and the humid detention area to see and sit with students.

My throat started seizing up and I started feeling giddy at about 1pm, but I persevered, trying to plug the holes that kept opening up, before finally succumbing to the lure of a cab-ride home at 3.30pm.

Would it be strange to say that it’s somewhat pleasant to be mildly ill – with my head so heavy I can’t stress out about things even if I wanted to; with my mind only being able to focus on Travel&Living and children’s books; with my body finally being able to sleep and sleep and sleep, without starting up automatically at 5.40am or because there are things left undone?

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Intensity Saturday, Feb 21 2009

I would like to talk about teaching, if only because it has consumed the past two months of my life. But all I can say is that it’s been alternately frustrating and rewarding, and always challenging. Today, after seven weeks here, I can finally state that I made the right decision.

Now off to unwind with yoga and some nice Indian food with my teaching college friend…

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Learning Curve Sunday, Feb 1 2009

I’ve been using this phrase a lot lately.

Life in this new job is definitely not boring. I think back on my first six months in the headquarters, and draw inspiration from that period.

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New Beginnings Monday, Jan 12 2009

A new year, a new job.

I’ve rushed headlong back into teaching again. In most ways it feels completely natural but in other ways I miss the relative sanity of office life.

I’ve only finished one book this year, and it’s one of the lower secondary literature texts my school uses.

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Local Colour Tuesday, Nov 11 2008

I am naturally lazy about reading the newspapers, despite my nagging at my former students to keep themselves updated on what’s happening around the world. In my defence, I did read the papers every day, or every other day, when I was teaching, but now that I’m no longer in school, I scan the headlines desultorily, read the sensationalistic articles (“Yet Another Chinese National Murdered”) or those containing some degree of “human interest” (veering dangerously close to being the target audience for The New Paper), and watch the news on TV when my dad is channel-surfing.

So it happened that when my dad was relaxing in front of the TV after “Ten Brothers” (anyone remember that show?), I found out about this delightful middle-aged security guard who thwarted a bank robbery attempt (just a 10-min drive from where I live) by a man dressed in woman’s clothes (???), pretending he had explosives on him. Here’s the security guard’s response, when interviewed by the media (imperfectly recalled):-

So he told me, “Don’t try to play the hero. You’ve got only three minutes to live.” I tackled him and everyone quickly go one side! [laughs loudly] Erm, but the staff was quite helpful lah…

How was the staff helpful, I wonder? Did they call the police from their safe vantage point? Or less usefully, did they fling words of encouragement to him from afar? Inquiring minds want to know.

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Hawker Food on a Rainy Weekend Sunday, Aug 24 2008

It’s been raining the entire weekend – not the usual sudden thunderstorms that blow over in less than an hour, leaving the ground shining under the blazing sun after, but rain that falls in moderate yet relentless sheets. The skies remain grey the entire day; we have to turn on the light if we want to do some serious reading.

I gave up on running yesterday evening, even when the rain slowed to a drizzle. The path was too slick, and my running gait always ensures that I get the most amount of wet gunk on my calves and even on the back of my thighs when I run in wet weather (this is a conclusion reached through scientific observation… or rather, a comparison of my legs with other runners’ when they run in the rain as well!). Besides the usual mud and water, it’s not unusual for me to find leaves and twigs stuck to my limbs at the end of a wet run. I think I might have turned up a critter or two before as well.

So… instead of venturing out for what was actually a much-needed run, I decided to call up the soon-to-close hokkien mee stall at East Coast Road, and pre-order some warm, gooey hokkien mee for dinner. This was my second time eating it this week – I had only recently discovered it (too late) through my friend at work, and ieat!

The business is a truly impressive one, with at least four persons helping to collate orders on both the phone and from customers who had dropped in. There were at least 6-8 other people standing around waiting for their orders when I arrived, yet much to my surprise, the ladies at the stall were uncannily able to identify me immediately by my order, despite only having heard me on the phone!

The uncle was frying away furiously, blinking rapidly in the smoke and heat of his small kitchen, visible to us all. He turned out huge batches of thick noodles at once, shoving as much as possible onto a plate with his spatula. A girl standing next to him distributed the portions of each plate evenly onto takeout wrappers and secured the packages neatly with a rubber band each. Finally, the deal was sealed with the addition of a packet of pounded chilli and some limes in the red plastic bag.

The vibrant smells and bustle of the little coffeeshop stayed with me as I gingerly tread through the wet pavements to where my mother sat waiting, down in one of the little residential streets nearby.

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I Don’t See Daylight Anymore Tuesday, Aug 19 2008

The thing about working in the “real world” is that you don’t get seasons even of the more artificial sort. There is no academic year to align your vacation schedule with – you make your own time to escape. Then again, you don’t have to go on holiday with all the little critters and their parents during peak season, when it’s either too hot or too cold/rainy in most parts of the world. At the end of the working day, and during weekends, you can shut off your mind and do whatever you like, without having to worry about marking, worksheets, emotional burdens. And lunches can be leisurely affairs when no meetings await your attention, even if you have to make up for it by going home later in the evening.

I remember stuffing the last of my pappadum into my face before the bell rang (as it perpetually did) to let me know that I only had 30mins, 1hr, 2hrs till my next lesson, during which I could only hope to complete an infinitesimal proportion of what I had to do without being interrupted by colleagues’ requests, students popping in for a chat/consultation session, emails asking for logistical arrangements for this and that. Then I would promptly forget to bring my power adaptor for my laptop on my hasty way to class, and have to dispatch a student to fetch it.

Here, there is time to think, and a lot to think about. I can work uninterruptedly for hours at a stretch, with my shoes off. The results of what I do aren’t always immediate; they may even take a decade to come to fruition, or never do so. And despite where I’m deliberately headed towards, I think I will miss this strange kind of life, which is exciting and low-key at the same time. I have met some of the most brilliant people of my life at this job – not intellectuals, but impressive, awesome leaders. At the same time, I don’t think I’ve ever felt more alone in the workplace, and this, not always in an unpleasant way.

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Seasons Sunday, Jul 27 2008

I wonder if I’d feel differently about my life if there were different seasons in Singapore – more hopeful in Spring, perhaps, and more alert in Winter? At least there’d be some intimation of change to come.

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Communities Friday, Jul 11 2008

I went for an evening event at a neighbourhood school last Friday, and it hit me, just walking in through schoolgates, how much I do miss being back in school as a teacher. As a student, your school can be a claustrophobic world around which your life revolves – emotions run high and lifetime memories (and scars) are formed. As a teacher, you get a taste of this energy without over-committing yourself, even if you’ve to learn how not to do so. You can put your finger on this pulse that usually can’t be found in meeting rooms, vicariously join in the raucous, senseless fun, work yourself to the bone without feeling it until the end of the day.

And as a teacher, you see that the school comprises not just one community, but several. The constituency may hold their National Day celebrations at the school; alumni and parents splurge on artworks in order to support scholarship funds; and of course, the students work on their mandatory community involvement projects that hopefully bring them outside of themselves.

(I am probably going to be run-down, harried and with a constantly-furrowed brow when I go back, but for now I will hold on to some of these ideals.)

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The Weekend, by Hours Sunday, Jul 6 2008

Hours spent on each activity this weekend:-

• Phonecalls – 2 hrs
• Meeting with friends – 2 hrs
• Sleep, with naps – 12 hrs
• Exercise of some sort – 7 hrs
• Work of some sort – 16 hrs

I’m going to read a book and finally sleep at a decent time tonight!

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