Am now at my mum's place; a place I used to call home and still is in a sort of nostalgic way.
She's tired, she looks so frail and thin, the house is rather filthy and she's still doing her best to cook for sahur tomorrow especially since I'm here. She wants to cook my favourite food but keeps adding more stuff on the menu; insisting that I pack it for tomorrow's break fast and if possible, for as long as it can last.
At times like these, I treasure her so much and I don't know how I can live away from her. Moving out and staying on my own is one thing but moving to another country?
I don't think my brothers help out much at home... and it makes me sad. I want to wipe the grime off the stove and sink, scrub the toilet floor and take care of the neglected plants. It's not that my mother is a lazy or dirty person... but she's just tired from working all day and she can't work a second shift when she's home.
And then there's the food...
I noticed the dates she bought for break fast are the cheaper variety, the food in the pantry are cheaper brands and she even changed the detergent because we don't have $3000 a month from my dad anymore - not even a single cent.
While I said that I would not celebrate Ramadan the way I used to, I think on some days, I would still come home, have sahur and break fast together; help with the cooking and cleaning so as to bring back some semblance of normalcy.
Frenchy has been very supportive of this actually. He's asked me several times if I'd like him to get food for my sahur and stuff like that and he always encourages me to spend time with my family and sleepover whenever I want.
I admit it.... I do miss home. I guess we all do. Cest la vie.
Thursday 11 July 2013
Sunday 23 June 2013
Fitting in the Beach culture
Frenchy and I went to Rawa Island in Johor Malaysia over the weekend. The island is a 30minute speedboat ride away from Mersing and is basically a strip of beach on one side and a steep cliff on the other. It is a lovely island getaway that you could opt for when the fake Singapore beaches and view of the container ships just can't cut it any longer; a lovely way to destress and get away from the stress, noise and fast paced life in Singapore.
We spent most of the day snorkeling (of which I saw a grumpy nemo's face and laughed so much that I almost drowned), had great food, played scrabble by the beach and just relaxing on the pure sandy beach).
But a place like this was not for me to be honest. Despite being on an island in Malaysia, I was the minority there. To be honest, I was intimidated by the other Caucasians there and was lost in the myriad of languages that I could not understand.
And the beach culture - of body baring, drinking and partying is something completely alien to me. I was raised in a household where spaghetti tops and shorts were unacceptable, so bikinis were definitely a ticket to all day nagging session by mum. That doesn't mean I don't think women shouldn't wear bikinis for they should wear whatever they feel comfortable and happy in.
And for me, it was a body suit as we were snorkeling and I wanted to keep the stinging jellyfish off my skin. However, the looks of amusement and somewhat horror was evident in the faces of the size 6-10 long limbed women, tanning in the sun. I think the look says - "Size 16 women should honestly NOT be on the beach".
I was quite sad and so self conscious the entire time that I was embarrassed to go anywhere near the others. However it's not easy seeing that the place was so small, there was hardly anywhere to hide. :(
Ah, the perils of not fitting in the acceptable range of beauty eh?
We spent most of the day snorkeling (of which I saw a grumpy nemo's face and laughed so much that I almost drowned), had great food, played scrabble by the beach and just relaxing on the pure sandy beach).
But a place like this was not for me to be honest. Despite being on an island in Malaysia, I was the minority there. To be honest, I was intimidated by the other Caucasians there and was lost in the myriad of languages that I could not understand.
And the beach culture - of body baring, drinking and partying is something completely alien to me. I was raised in a household where spaghetti tops and shorts were unacceptable, so bikinis were definitely a ticket to all day nagging session by mum. That doesn't mean I don't think women shouldn't wear bikinis for they should wear whatever they feel comfortable and happy in.
And for me, it was a body suit as we were snorkeling and I wanted to keep the stinging jellyfish off my skin. However, the looks of amusement and somewhat horror was evident in the faces of the size 6-10 long limbed women, tanning in the sun. I think the look says - "Size 16 women should honestly NOT be on the beach".
I was quite sad and so self conscious the entire time that I was embarrassed to go anywhere near the others. However it's not easy seeing that the place was so small, there was hardly anywhere to hide. :(
Ah, the perils of not fitting in the acceptable range of beauty eh?
Wednesday 19 June 2013
Food, Islam and Society in Asia
Personal experience of mine shows that the term 'halal' has always been a contention as well as cause of displeasure among classmates/friends when it comes to places of communal eating. Sometimes, I wonder if it is out of ignorance (despite Singapore being touted as educating its young on its multi-cultural/religious mythology) or just plain idiocy.
Some questions include: - Can you eat pork if it's halal?
- Can we eat at places where they only sell seafood? [fish and co, sushi parlours]
- Why Malays must eat only halal food is it?
Firstly, the definition of halal is not just that we cannot eat pork. Halal meat involves the draining of the blood from the animal first before the meat can be butchered. In addition, at the point of slaughter, there is a prayer to be said to signify that the animal is meant for consumption (and not for sacrifice or presentation for the God etc). With that said, sometimes even halal establishments are questionable, as highlighted in an article on Macdonalds here.
Islam's stance on what is permissible to eat and what is not, is clear. There are strict rules when it comes to meat regarding what is allowed and what is forbidden. In Surat Al-Maida (The Table) Allah says:
"Forbidden to you (for food) are: AI-Maytatah (the dead animals -cattle-beasts not slaughtered), blood, the flesh of swine and the meat of that which has been slaughtered as a sacrifice for others than Allah or has been slaughtered for idols etc, or on which Allah's Name has not been mentioned while slaughtering and that which has been killed by strangling or by a violent blow or by a headlong fall or by the goring of horns - and that which has been (partly) eaten by a wild animal - unless you are able to slaughter it(before its death) and that which is sacrificed (slaughtered) on AnNusub (stone altars). [Forbidden] also is to use arrows seeking luck or decision, [all] that is Fisqun (disobedience of Allah and sin). This day, those who disbelieved have given up all hope of your religion, so fear them not (but fear Me. This day, I have perfected your religion for you completed My Favor upon you and have chosen for you Islam as your religion. But as for him who is forced by severe hunger, with no inclination to sin [such can eat these above-mentioned meats], then surely, Allah is All Forgiving, Most Merciful”
Here, I would like to share some of the findings that Professor Robert McKinley, from the Michigan State University, presented during a workshop conducted at NUS on the above mentioned topic.
He presented a case study on the social significance of food (especially halal food) in Malaysia (and Singapore in this context) and sought to bridge the tie between food, political significance as well as identity.
McKinley made a substantial point in his observation that Muslims in Malaysia (and Singapore as well) have adopted stricter rules in their observation of dietary restrictions because of rising affluence. The Quran ( The holy book) states that God forgives his mortals should they have to resort to non-halal food in times of difficulties like famine, war etc.
As such, with increasing affluence in the modern society nowadays, many middle class Muslims are becoming more self conscious about their dietary restrictions. Even seafood which has no Islamic restrictions becomes suspect when the food establishment does not have a halal sign at its door. This is the case with Fish and Co and to Sakae Sushi.
To take the latter case, Sakae Sushi has opened a new chain of halal Japanese cuisine restaurant called Hei Sushi at Downtown East and Sembawang shopping centre. The rationale of this is to facilitate the process of halal certification. For an eating establishment to be deemed as halal, all its crockery, utensils, cooking area etc have to be cleaned and often changed if they had cooked pork previously. [However, I do feel this may be stretching it a little too far. I've always wondered why halal establishments serve non-Muslim customers if their concern was that the utensils/food etc are to free of pork residue. I mean... if someone just had suckling pig before coming to the restaurant for a drink with his Muslim friends, wouldn't he be contaminating the cup with his pork-flavoured saliva?]
Food restrictions have become an ascriptive identity of Muslims and to not follow these rules are to be labelled as deviant. Such is the same when Muslims are caught eating during the fasting month. The concept of halal and food regulations brought about by the Islamic faith has gained a prominent feature in our society. Most non-Muslims are aware of those restrictions and as a sign of good will will usually try to accommodate As such, they will express surprise [and I suspect psychological analysis of labelling the deviant] when a friend exercise a lax in these restrictions.
These outwardly forms of religious identification becomes synonymously linked with ethnic identification. As with the last question, Malays in Singapore are almost always automatically classified as Muslims. Often, I escape such judgements because most people cannot tell if I'm Malay, Chinese and lately, Filipino.
Personally, I do not strictly eat at halal places. My belief is that in our current state of development, we have to place our trust on others to slaughter and prepare our meat and i suspect that some methods are not as "halal" as I would like them to be so "halal" is something that someone else has determined for me and not something that I am certain completely. Although with that said, I try my best to buy halal meat in the supermarket (and I worry how easy this would be when I move overseas - any thoughts on this anyone?).
My belief in food is that everything that is created by God is wonderful and as such should be tasted at least once. Everything should be consumed in balance and in controlled quantities. Why do we need to put in place such arbitrary divisions that separates Muslims who eat halal, Muslims who don't eat halal and everyone else? I know of some friends who don't even want to sit at the same table if their non-muslim friends aren't eating halal food.
Has religion really become so pervasive that we are no longer able to make our own choices anymore?
Some questions include: - Can you eat pork if it's halal?
- Can we eat at places where they only sell seafood? [fish and co, sushi parlours]
- Why Malays must eat only halal food is it?
Firstly, the definition of halal is not just that we cannot eat pork. Halal meat involves the draining of the blood from the animal first before the meat can be butchered. In addition, at the point of slaughter, there is a prayer to be said to signify that the animal is meant for consumption (and not for sacrifice or presentation for the God etc). With that said, sometimes even halal establishments are questionable, as highlighted in an article on Macdonalds here.
Islam's stance on what is permissible to eat and what is not, is clear. There are strict rules when it comes to meat regarding what is allowed and what is forbidden. In Surat Al-Maida (The Table) Allah says:
"Forbidden to you (for food) are: AI-Maytatah (the dead animals -cattle-beasts not slaughtered), blood, the flesh of swine and the meat of that which has been slaughtered as a sacrifice for others than Allah or has been slaughtered for idols etc, or on which Allah's Name has not been mentioned while slaughtering and that which has been killed by strangling or by a violent blow or by a headlong fall or by the goring of horns - and that which has been (partly) eaten by a wild animal - unless you are able to slaughter it(before its death) and that which is sacrificed (slaughtered) on AnNusub (stone altars). [Forbidden] also is to use arrows seeking luck or decision, [all] that is Fisqun (disobedience of Allah and sin). This day, those who disbelieved have given up all hope of your religion, so fear them not (but fear Me. This day, I have perfected your religion for you completed My Favor upon you and have chosen for you Islam as your religion. But as for him who is forced by severe hunger, with no inclination to sin [such can eat these above-mentioned meats], then surely, Allah is All Forgiving, Most Merciful”
Here, I would like to share some of the findings that Professor Robert McKinley, from the Michigan State University, presented during a workshop conducted at NUS on the above mentioned topic.
He presented a case study on the social significance of food (especially halal food) in Malaysia (and Singapore in this context) and sought to bridge the tie between food, political significance as well as identity.
McKinley made a substantial point in his observation that Muslims in Malaysia (and Singapore as well) have adopted stricter rules in their observation of dietary restrictions because of rising affluence. The Quran ( The holy book) states that God forgives his mortals should they have to resort to non-halal food in times of difficulties like famine, war etc.
As such, with increasing affluence in the modern society nowadays, many middle class Muslims are becoming more self conscious about their dietary restrictions. Even seafood which has no Islamic restrictions becomes suspect when the food establishment does not have a halal sign at its door. This is the case with Fish and Co and to Sakae Sushi.
To take the latter case, Sakae Sushi has opened a new chain of halal Japanese cuisine restaurant called Hei Sushi at Downtown East and Sembawang shopping centre. The rationale of this is to facilitate the process of halal certification. For an eating establishment to be deemed as halal, all its crockery, utensils, cooking area etc have to be cleaned and often changed if they had cooked pork previously. [However, I do feel this may be stretching it a little too far. I've always wondered why halal establishments serve non-Muslim customers if their concern was that the utensils/food etc are to free of pork residue. I mean... if someone just had suckling pig before coming to the restaurant for a drink with his Muslim friends, wouldn't he be contaminating the cup with his pork-flavoured saliva?]
Food restrictions have become an ascriptive identity of Muslims and to not follow these rules are to be labelled as deviant. Such is the same when Muslims are caught eating during the fasting month. The concept of halal and food regulations brought about by the Islamic faith has gained a prominent feature in our society. Most non-Muslims are aware of those restrictions and as a sign of good will will usually try to accommodate As such, they will express surprise [and I suspect psychological analysis of labelling the deviant] when a friend exercise a lax in these restrictions.
These outwardly forms of religious identification becomes synonymously linked with ethnic identification. As with the last question, Malays in Singapore are almost always automatically classified as Muslims. Often, I escape such judgements because most people cannot tell if I'm Malay, Chinese and lately, Filipino.
Personally, I do not strictly eat at halal places. My belief is that in our current state of development, we have to place our trust on others to slaughter and prepare our meat and i suspect that some methods are not as "halal" as I would like them to be so "halal" is something that someone else has determined for me and not something that I am certain completely. Although with that said, I try my best to buy halal meat in the supermarket (and I worry how easy this would be when I move overseas - any thoughts on this anyone?).
My belief in food is that everything that is created by God is wonderful and as such should be tasted at least once. Everything should be consumed in balance and in controlled quantities. Why do we need to put in place such arbitrary divisions that separates Muslims who eat halal, Muslims who don't eat halal and everyone else? I know of some friends who don't even want to sit at the same table if their non-muslim friends aren't eating halal food.
Has religion really become so pervasive that we are no longer able to make our own choices anymore?
Thursday 6 June 2013
Marriage woes of a Malay-Muslim girl
Frenchy and I have been talking about legalising our relationship. It sounds simple: He gets down on one knee, asks the question, I say yes and boom we head off to the registry and be Mr and Mrs.
However, this process doesn't apply to me. Even before he could pop the question, we needed to discuss how to get around to getting married without upsetting the entire Malay-Muslim community and the prevailing marriage laws of Singapore and France.
I was reading an article about a lady undergoing an arranged marriage and she mentioned how marriage seems to be the only way for women to gain independence and to some extent, I agree. It's not uncommon knowledge that many Malay girls get married young and I suspect that it has a lot to do with the desire for independence. The religion tells us that many things are forbidden and that even our emotions before being "halal" certified/ married is unreal. I too, once upon a time was so fed up with this that I said yes to marry a person I had absolutely no feelings for, with the thought that falling in love before marriage isn't right; love after marriage is the only acceptable thing.
But... what if you made the wrong choice? What if this "good" man that someone else has picked out for you isn't right for you? Again, the article mentioned that often parents want the "right" suitor to be like them, not like us.
Coincidentally perhaps, Frenchy sent me an article titled "Do not marry before the age of 30" in which the author encourages women to explore all life possibilities during their 20s, become independent and most importantly, re-examine why you want to get married in the first place. I quote:
It's a great article and while I agree with many of her points, I think that culture also plays a big part in validating the points she made. The context of her experience is set by her migratory status as a Chinese woman studying and living in the US. That alone, puts her and many of my Singaporean friends who have studied overseas the ability to be independent and chase their dreams, live their life.
It is the accumulated social and financial capital that allows someone to postpone marriage, not just a mentality, in my opinion.
The thing is, marriage as an institution scares the hell out of me. Devoid of the romance, lavish wedding reception and gifts, it is really a bunch of rules, enforced by culture and religion. And that suffocates me.
I want to get married someday but I cannot because in Singapore, to get married, I'd have to marry:
1) A Muslim man
2) A Malay man
3) A man compatible on a socio-economic standing as I am.
In that order.
And since Frenchy fails on the first two accounts, we can't get married under the Muslim law here so the alternative would be to get married in the civil court.Oh but it's not so easy. I went through the form out of curiosity and in one section, it asks you to declare if you are Muslim or not. I think that question is redundant and tricking you into believing you have some agency when in fact you don't. Like... surely MUIS (the islamic authority in Singapore) won't receive flags if a Mr Muhammad xyz or Ms Siti xyz is about to get married in the civil court? Regardless of whether they ticked "yes" or "no" to that question.
I know of some couples who have gone ahead with the marriage anyway and received letters requesting to come for religious counselling. On top of that, the families of the Muslim man/woman in question will also be alerted and invited to such sessions. It's almost like a recipe for disaster and losing face for the families involved.
Honestly to me, getting married is the same whether a priest or imam or judge or monkeyman blesses you. You get a signed paper, maybe a new name and a lot of administrative work to follow. Why do people have to make it so hard?
Then we decided to enquire about it at the French embassy. France has a special civil union called the PACS which was originally meant for same-sex couples to attain the same legal status as married couples. So we thought, maybe this might be possible but no...
Frenchy still has to produce a cert of conversion (or otherwise, I have to) or we can't get married/civil union. But... it's okay for gay people to get married and no proof of conversion needed for Jewish-non-Jewish couples. Whaaaattt....
What's with the Islamic bureaucratic redtape?
I know deep in my heart that it is what's inside that matters but then why am I so disturbed by the difficulty in which I am unable to get married?
However, this process doesn't apply to me. Even before he could pop the question, we needed to discuss how to get around to getting married without upsetting the entire Malay-Muslim community and the prevailing marriage laws of Singapore and France.
I was reading an article about a lady undergoing an arranged marriage and she mentioned how marriage seems to be the only way for women to gain independence and to some extent, I agree. It's not uncommon knowledge that many Malay girls get married young and I suspect that it has a lot to do with the desire for independence. The religion tells us that many things are forbidden and that even our emotions before being "halal" certified/ married is unreal. I too, once upon a time was so fed up with this that I said yes to marry a person I had absolutely no feelings for, with the thought that falling in love before marriage isn't right; love after marriage is the only acceptable thing.
But... what if you made the wrong choice? What if this "good" man that someone else has picked out for you isn't right for you? Again, the article mentioned that often parents want the "right" suitor to be like them, not like us.
Coincidentally perhaps, Frenchy sent me an article titled "Do not marry before the age of 30" in which the author encourages women to explore all life possibilities during their 20s, become independent and most importantly, re-examine why you want to get married in the first place. I quote:
Why do you want to get married?
Why do you want to get married? Because your friends are getting married? Because society has bamboozled you to think you should be married by now? These reasons have nothing to do with the man you’re marrying, and they bode for an unhappy future, a future where you’ll be only half alive. Without room in this relationship for the essential you, you will be lonely forever. And so will he.
So, forget about the fantasy of marriage and let’s get real.
It's a great article and while I agree with many of her points, I think that culture also plays a big part in validating the points she made. The context of her experience is set by her migratory status as a Chinese woman studying and living in the US. That alone, puts her and many of my Singaporean friends who have studied overseas the ability to be independent and chase their dreams, live their life.
It is the accumulated social and financial capital that allows someone to postpone marriage, not just a mentality, in my opinion.
The thing is, marriage as an institution scares the hell out of me. Devoid of the romance, lavish wedding reception and gifts, it is really a bunch of rules, enforced by culture and religion. And that suffocates me.
I want to get married someday but I cannot because in Singapore, to get married, I'd have to marry:
1) A Muslim man
2) A Malay man
3) A man compatible on a socio-economic standing as I am.
In that order.
And since Frenchy fails on the first two accounts, we can't get married under the Muslim law here so the alternative would be to get married in the civil court.Oh but it's not so easy. I went through the form out of curiosity and in one section, it asks you to declare if you are Muslim or not. I think that question is redundant and tricking you into believing you have some agency when in fact you don't. Like... surely MUIS (the islamic authority in Singapore) won't receive flags if a Mr Muhammad xyz or Ms Siti xyz is about to get married in the civil court? Regardless of whether they ticked "yes" or "no" to that question.
I know of some couples who have gone ahead with the marriage anyway and received letters requesting to come for religious counselling. On top of that, the families of the Muslim man/woman in question will also be alerted and invited to such sessions. It's almost like a recipe for disaster and losing face for the families involved.
Honestly to me, getting married is the same whether a priest or imam or judge or monkeyman blesses you. You get a signed paper, maybe a new name and a lot of administrative work to follow. Why do people have to make it so hard?
Then we decided to enquire about it at the French embassy. France has a special civil union called the PACS which was originally meant for same-sex couples to attain the same legal status as married couples. So we thought, maybe this might be possible but no...
Frenchy still has to produce a cert of conversion (or otherwise, I have to) or we can't get married/civil union. But... it's okay for gay people to get married and no proof of conversion needed for Jewish-non-Jewish couples. Whaaaattt....
What's with the Islamic bureaucratic redtape?
I know deep in my heart that it is what's inside that matters but then why am I so disturbed by the difficulty in which I am unable to get married?
Friday 31 May 2013
Learning to travel with your other half
Andrew O'Hagen for the NYT wrote:
"Every holiday is an ego trip for somebody. it is just that, in families, the person actually commanding the ego trip has to pretend he or she is running a functioning democracy. (And holidays, like failed states, are always run by one person.)
People argue so much on holiday because the occasion so often falls short of the desire: The desire is for rest,peace, no pressure and a sense of being away from one's usual self, and your average family holiday sets fire in comic sequence to each of these high hopes.
What feels like a holiday is turning up alone at the Hotel Danieli in Venice on a beautiful day. You open the window onto the Grand Canal and you feel the breeze. You order tea from room service and press your face against the cotton pillow. You take out the books you will read and you run a warm bath.... you switch off your phone. Then you take off your shoes and die of bliss."
I never thought in my entire life that I would be able to travel with my boyfriend until he's actually my husband and we're married (because my parents would never allow it even if I'm 25 or 40). So you could say that my first trip overseas to Bali with Frenchy was somewhat of great excitation. However, spending 24 hours with each other for 11 days could have been a recipe for disaster since we've only recently moved in together so we were still learning how to navigate around each other.
"Every holiday is an ego trip for somebody. it is just that, in families, the person actually commanding the ego trip has to pretend he or she is running a functioning democracy. (And holidays, like failed states, are always run by one person.)
People argue so much on holiday because the occasion so often falls short of the desire: The desire is for rest,peace, no pressure and a sense of being away from one's usual self, and your average family holiday sets fire in comic sequence to each of these high hopes.
What feels like a holiday is turning up alone at the Hotel Danieli in Venice on a beautiful day. You open the window onto the Grand Canal and you feel the breeze. You order tea from room service and press your face against the cotton pillow. You take out the books you will read and you run a warm bath.... you switch off your phone. Then you take off your shoes and die of bliss."
I never thought in my entire life that I would be able to travel with my boyfriend until he's actually my husband and we're married (because my parents would never allow it even if I'm 25 or 40). So you could say that my first trip overseas to Bali with Frenchy was somewhat of great excitation. However, spending 24 hours with each other for 11 days could have been a recipe for disaster since we've only recently moved in together so we were still learning how to navigate around each other.
He had anticipated that I would be princessy and difficult, as some women can be when they see that their "hotels" have no stars, no aircondition and that their toilets are filled with wandering insects. For me I was just worried that he would want to see the things which I have already seen most of my life and just bore me to death - rice paddies, traditional dance, woven bamboo and so on. So we were expecting a lot of arguments to happen.
But the truth was it went really well - with the exception of one major crying outburst from me when we were lost in the middle of a forest.
O'Hagen speaks of the unmatched "desire" of what a holiday should be and I feel that being in an interracial relationship- especially one that crosses continents- adds another layer of possible friction points. For example:
1) Sun and Heat
O'Hagen speaks of the unmatched "desire" of what a holiday should be and I feel that being in an interracial relationship- especially one that crosses continents- adds another layer of possible friction points. For example:
1) Sun and Heat
I fucking hate the heat and the humidity in this region and do not feel that I need to travel in SEA because of the perception that I already "know" everything ( ASEAN history student). I want to see the "other", hear the strange languages and observe features on people that I'm not familiar with. But for Frenchy, all that I am and this region that I live in fascinates him. We are the "exotic" as he is to me.
Then there is the problem of tanning. He turns red while I get dark. It's funny how when we first reached Bali, a lot of the Balinese were unsure what ethnicity I was so they still spoke English to me. But after a few days of being in the sun, there was no confusion for I looked indigenous with my dark skin, big eyes, black hair. Conversations with locals became centered on why I looked so local and yet am from Singapore.
Then there is the problem of tanning. He turns red while I get dark. It's funny how when we first reached Bali, a lot of the Balinese were unsure what ethnicity I was so they still spoke English to me. But after a few days of being in the sun, there was no confusion for I looked indigenous with my dark skin, big eyes, black hair. Conversations with locals became centered on why I looked so local and yet am from Singapore.
2) Poverty and Cleanliness
I have travelled (and lived for some time) in Malaysia with my parents as I was growing up so I'm used to seeing worn-out kampungs, poor sanitation, dirty, muddy roads you name it. But I'm not sure if Frenchy has. I don't think the landscape in UK or France is comparable to what we have here so I was partly afraid that he would feel disgusted and in turn, make me feel guilty for bringing him to such places.
But you know what? He was forever amazed with how the walls or ceilings were made from woven bamboos or that the drainage system was so cleverly designed to divert fresh water to the fields and so on. I've never paid attention to such details because they were normal to me but seeing the excitement and wonder in his eyes just made trekking through rice paddies and little villages worth it.
But you know what? He was forever amazed with how the walls or ceilings were made from woven bamboos or that the drainage system was so cleverly designed to divert fresh water to the fields and so on. I've never paid attention to such details because they were normal to me but seeing the excitement and wonder in his eyes just made trekking through rice paddies and little villages worth it.
3) Street Food
OMG. Frenchy wouldn't even step into a hawker centre so to think that he would eat by the street from some suspicious vendor? I doubt it. I was afraid we would bust our budget if we ate at restaurants all the time, so I had to be very careful to ask him everytime if he was okay eating by the side of the road. I mean my dad always said that squatting down by the longkang (drain) and eating durian cut open by the side of the road gives it all the taste and experience to make him happy. Not sure if your parents tell you this but mine always say, "Jangan makan tu, korang punya perut tak kuat macam kite punya." (lit. Don't eat that; your stomaches are not as strong as ours). The idea is that because my parents generation grew up in far less desirable conditions that we did, it made them more resistant against the possible contaminations in the street-side food.
But Frenchy's not a local. So when we were served an almost anorexic bbq chicken served with rice from a road stall I did not expect him to be finger licking and saying it was the best dish he had ever tasted. Then we progressed to roadside satay in peanut-soya sauce. I had never eaten satay like that in my life and was suspicious about it myself but he was eating it like it was the most delicious food on earth. Gosh! And he loved the spices and started talking excitedly about cooking with lemongrass and all these "asian" spices. Okay, I admit my heart swelled a bit thinking that my partner's the best thing on earth. He loved Indonesian food, aka my culture my food! yay!
PS: I'll write another post on the places we went in Bali.
Thursday 16 May 2013
Sleeping together
One of the things I'm still trying to get used to is sharing the bed with someone. As the only daughter, I had the privilege of having my own room so even sharing space is not something I am used to.
The first thing I (consciously or otherwise) did upon moving in was to delegate space - I sleep on the left, him on the right and I get slightly edgy when he crosses the boundary slightly by placing his things on my side of the bed and so on. But with time, I've learnt to relax a little because at the end of the day, there's no point kicking up a fuss and wasting energy when I can just quietly put back the item on his side.
It's not that I'm secretive about my things but I just like my things in their place so I know where to find them when I want them.
Then comes the sleeping part. It took me a few sleepless nights and learning to sleep facing away from each other to finally get a good night's sleep.
1) Intermittent snoring.
I'm ok with snores. My dad used to snore so loud we could hear him cross the hallway. But at least it was a rhythmic kinda snore so after awhile you get lulled. But omg Frenchy has intermittent snores that can be so quiet for a whole hour and then sounds like a crack in the air. Well, I'm one to complain. I've been told that I snore too when I'm tired or having a blocked nose in an airconditioned room. Heh.
2) Twists and turns.
I've never shared a bed with anybody so I'm not conscious of my sudden movements made during sleep. I know for one that I'm guilty for bouncing on the bed when I turn from one side to the other. Frenchy does it too and he shakes uncontrollably in the middle of the night like he's fighting minions in his sleep (which is actually really cute) but it wakes me up a lot.
3) Breathing
Breath-on-skin sounds sexy but not when you're half asleep and thinking there's a fly on your back needing to be slapped. Usually this happens in a spooning position. Otherwise, when you're both not asleep yet but trying to, there's always that problem of synchronising your breathing. Or am I the only one thinking about it?
4) Cramped arms/legs/body
And no, not from vigorous bedtime aerobics. It happens when you try to sleep holding each other - say like in a spoon position. Then there's that weird arm that doesn't know what to do. So sometimes you squash it below your body, sometimes you're superman with that arm outstretched, reaching for the sky.
5) One waking up before the other.
Nooooooooooooooooooooo. I hate it when he goes to work because I cannot help but open my eye and watch him walk up and down the room, choosing his clothes (and then silently chastising him for not ironing his shirt again and then reminding myself mentally to iron some for him) and wait for him to say goodbye to me before going back to bed. Unfortunately, he isn't so lucky. When I wake up, generally it also means it's time for him to wake up so I wake him up by making annoying noises and poking at him until he's conscious. :P
6) Farting in your sleep
Do I even need to say more?
But then again, sleeping together, just like living together takes a lot of getting used to and learning about each other's patterns. Yes, you eventually learn to forgive each others' farts and simply just turn to face the other side to get some space (and fresh air). But I think one of the most important things about this whole sleeping together thing is the idea that you know you are comfortable enough with your partner to go to sleep with that terrible pimple cream on your face (rather than hidden by concealer), going braless (and knowing your boobies are going southwards) and most important of all, knowing he or she forgives you for your farts and snores.
The first thing I (consciously or otherwise) did upon moving in was to delegate space - I sleep on the left, him on the right and I get slightly edgy when he crosses the boundary slightly by placing his things on my side of the bed and so on. But with time, I've learnt to relax a little because at the end of the day, there's no point kicking up a fuss and wasting energy when I can just quietly put back the item on his side.
It's not that I'm secretive about my things but I just like my things in their place so I know where to find them when I want them.
Then comes the sleeping part. It took me a few sleepless nights and learning to sleep facing away from each other to finally get a good night's sleep.
1) Intermittent snoring.
I'm ok with snores. My dad used to snore so loud we could hear him cross the hallway. But at least it was a rhythmic kinda snore so after awhile you get lulled. But omg Frenchy has intermittent snores that can be so quiet for a whole hour and then sounds like a crack in the air. Well, I'm one to complain. I've been told that I snore too when I'm tired or having a blocked nose in an airconditioned room. Heh.
2) Twists and turns.
I've never shared a bed with anybody so I'm not conscious of my sudden movements made during sleep. I know for one that I'm guilty for bouncing on the bed when I turn from one side to the other. Frenchy does it too and he shakes uncontrollably in the middle of the night like he's fighting minions in his sleep (which is actually really cute) but it wakes me up a lot.
3) Breathing
Breath-on-skin sounds sexy but not when you're half asleep and thinking there's a fly on your back needing to be slapped. Usually this happens in a spooning position. Otherwise, when you're both not asleep yet but trying to, there's always that problem of synchronising your breathing. Or am I the only one thinking about it?
4) Cramped arms/legs/body
And no, not from vigorous bedtime aerobics. It happens when you try to sleep holding each other - say like in a spoon position. Then there's that weird arm that doesn't know what to do. So sometimes you squash it below your body, sometimes you're superman with that arm outstretched, reaching for the sky.
5) One waking up before the other.
Nooooooooooooooooooooo. I hate it when he goes to work because I cannot help but open my eye and watch him walk up and down the room, choosing his clothes (and then silently chastising him for not ironing his shirt again and then reminding myself mentally to iron some for him) and wait for him to say goodbye to me before going back to bed. Unfortunately, he isn't so lucky. When I wake up, generally it also means it's time for him to wake up so I wake him up by making annoying noises and poking at him until he's conscious. :P
6) Farting in your sleep
Do I even need to say more?
But then again, sleeping together, just like living together takes a lot of getting used to and learning about each other's patterns. Yes, you eventually learn to forgive each others' farts and simply just turn to face the other side to get some space (and fresh air). But I think one of the most important things about this whole sleeping together thing is the idea that you know you are comfortable enough with your partner to go to sleep with that terrible pimple cream on your face (rather than hidden by concealer), going braless (and knowing your boobies are going southwards) and most important of all, knowing he or she forgives you for your farts and snores.
Tuesday 14 May 2013
On Malay mothers and daughters I
A lot of people (here meaning Singaporeans) who knew about me moving out of home have always asked this question: "What did your parents and family say?"
On the other hand, others - either non-Singaporeans or Singaporeans living overseas went "Well done girl! You should have done this ages ago!"
But since I'm Singaporean and Malay, I think the cultural expectations of "familial piety" is enforced even more so for me. To be honest, these two categories do not mix very well. Let me explain:
1) Singaporeans, as many Asian societies are mostly patriarchal, so usually, the eldest son takes responsibility for his parents in their old age. This is especially so for Chinese families. And since the education system in Singapore has brainwashed us all to accept these "Confucianist" ideals as the right way of life, most Singaporeans regardless of race have accepted this as the holy grail.
2) But, in practice, Malay families are very much so matriarchal and matrilineal (not in terms of names but of property). The daughters (regardless of your order of birth) are the ones who take care of their aged parents and provide a support system of sorts -childcare, finance etc- to each other and at times for the brothers as well. The men are seen as not having the "heart" and "softness" to provide caregiving and the most common reason is also that once the men are married and off to work, it would be awkward for the daughter-in-law (assumed to be housewife) to take care of her parents-in-law.
I'm the eldest and only daughter. Go figure.
Perhaps it was this unique situation that made it very difficult for me to behave outside of the box that has been pre-ascribed to me. I was groomed to be someone whose shoulders would bear lots of responsibilities in the years to come. To sum it up, most agreements between my mother and I were that we disagree on 90% of things.
So to answer the question of what my parents and family thought about my decision, I will have to also share what I thought they would have said, based on my strict upbringing.
Assumption: I thought they would explode and go on a witch hunt for me.
Reality: I remembered my mum's text to me saying that she doesn't know what to say to me and that to take care of myself. My cousins told me that they would be there for me and that they understood me.
However, the catch is also that my mum didn't want to tell her sisters and brothers (except one or two) because she didn't want me to be rejected should I wish to come home again. I'm not sure how to take that but I'll let it rest for now.
Assumption: I thought my mum would refuse to speak to me ever again, giving me a cold shoulder (which she is known for when I was younger) and not allowing me to come home.
Reality: My first meeting with her felt completely normal, not awkward at all. She was joking and happy and I didn't feel strange around her. She then invited me to have lunch with my brothers and then to visit my grandmother. We meet at least once a week now, no matter how brief and she always made sure that I know that I'm welcomed to come home to sleep over now and again. To be honest, I was very touched. She didn't hate me like I thought she would or blame it on some other instigator but she was very understanding and she allowed me to have the space that I never had and deserved.
Also, I think my relationship with my mother is slowly starting to shift in a way that she's trying to be more understanding and trying to understand why I refuse to follow certain expectations. As for me, it is also a process of self-realisation that my mother has done a lot for me growing up and that I should not blame her too much for being annoying and a pain in the neck because she certainly didn't have a handbook on "how to be the best mum" and I sure as hell would have to trial and error everything with my own kids someday.
But remember what I said about being the eldest daughter? This will never change even after moving out. There is a sense of responsibility for my mother and brothers that I just cannot shake off no matter how much I wanted to distance myself from them initially. I still send money home and Frenchy's been very kind to help me along when I can't seem to put it together. I know he doesn't fully understand why but he understands how important it is to me and I appreciate it.
On the other hand, others - either non-Singaporeans or Singaporeans living overseas went "Well done girl! You should have done this ages ago!"
But since I'm Singaporean and Malay, I think the cultural expectations of "familial piety" is enforced even more so for me. To be honest, these two categories do not mix very well. Let me explain:
1) Singaporeans, as many Asian societies are mostly patriarchal, so usually, the eldest son takes responsibility for his parents in their old age. This is especially so for Chinese families. And since the education system in Singapore has brainwashed us all to accept these "Confucianist" ideals as the right way of life, most Singaporeans regardless of race have accepted this as the holy grail.
2) But, in practice, Malay families are very much so matriarchal and matrilineal (not in terms of names but of property). The daughters (regardless of your order of birth) are the ones who take care of their aged parents and provide a support system of sorts -childcare, finance etc- to each other and at times for the brothers as well. The men are seen as not having the "heart" and "softness" to provide caregiving and the most common reason is also that once the men are married and off to work, it would be awkward for the daughter-in-law (assumed to be housewife) to take care of her parents-in-law.
I'm the eldest and only daughter. Go figure.
Perhaps it was this unique situation that made it very difficult for me to behave outside of the box that has been pre-ascribed to me. I was groomed to be someone whose shoulders would bear lots of responsibilities in the years to come. To sum it up, most agreements between my mother and I were that we disagree on 90% of things.
So to answer the question of what my parents and family thought about my decision, I will have to also share what I thought they would have said, based on my strict upbringing.
Assumption: I thought they would explode and go on a witch hunt for me.
Reality: I remembered my mum's text to me saying that she doesn't know what to say to me and that to take care of myself. My cousins told me that they would be there for me and that they understood me.
However, the catch is also that my mum didn't want to tell her sisters and brothers (except one or two) because she didn't want me to be rejected should I wish to come home again. I'm not sure how to take that but I'll let it rest for now.
Assumption: I thought my mum would refuse to speak to me ever again, giving me a cold shoulder (which she is known for when I was younger) and not allowing me to come home.
Reality: My first meeting with her felt completely normal, not awkward at all. She was joking and happy and I didn't feel strange around her. She then invited me to have lunch with my brothers and then to visit my grandmother. We meet at least once a week now, no matter how brief and she always made sure that I know that I'm welcomed to come home to sleep over now and again. To be honest, I was very touched. She didn't hate me like I thought she would or blame it on some other instigator but she was very understanding and she allowed me to have the space that I never had and deserved.
Also, I think my relationship with my mother is slowly starting to shift in a way that she's trying to be more understanding and trying to understand why I refuse to follow certain expectations. As for me, it is also a process of self-realisation that my mother has done a lot for me growing up and that I should not blame her too much for being annoying and a pain in the neck because she certainly didn't have a handbook on "how to be the best mum" and I sure as hell would have to trial and error everything with my own kids someday.
But remember what I said about being the eldest daughter? This will never change even after moving out. There is a sense of responsibility for my mother and brothers that I just cannot shake off no matter how much I wanted to distance myself from them initially. I still send money home and Frenchy's been very kind to help me along when I can't seem to put it together. I know he doesn't fully understand why but he understands how important it is to me and I appreciate it.
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