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.
Monday, 13 May 2013
Hairy issues
I want to colour my hair.
I've done blonde, brunette, red and even contemplated silver white. But the thing about Asian black hair is how stubborn it is. Dying it blonde usually ends up a distasteful orangy tinge and red so often becomes brown after a while.
And this time, I know blonde is out of the picture seeing Frenchy's a real blonde so I'm going to look so fake next to him. As a side note, I think blonde people have it the best. You can barely see their hair on their arms. legs and underarms and this is a good thing! Do you know how hard it is for us dark haired girls to keep our bodyparts looking smooth and hairless? Doesn't help that our hair seems to grow much faster in this weather and by the next day, a cleanly shaved armpit could very well use another one. -sigh-
Frenchy suggested that I do something like this;
It's not so bad this trendy hairstyle that seems so rampant amongst the youth these days. I'll think about it. Red is not an easy colour to stay on Asian hair unless I have my lower ends bleached before dyeing.
I've done blonde, brunette, red and even contemplated silver white. But the thing about Asian black hair is how stubborn it is. Dying it blonde usually ends up a distasteful orangy tinge and red so often becomes brown after a while.
And this time, I know blonde is out of the picture seeing Frenchy's a real blonde so I'm going to look so fake next to him. As a side note, I think blonde people have it the best. You can barely see their hair on their arms. legs and underarms and this is a good thing! Do you know how hard it is for us dark haired girls to keep our bodyparts looking smooth and hairless? Doesn't help that our hair seems to grow much faster in this weather and by the next day, a cleanly shaved armpit could very well use another one. -sigh-
Frenchy suggested that I do something like this;
It's not so bad this trendy hairstyle that seems so rampant amongst the youth these days. I'll think about it. Red is not an easy colour to stay on Asian hair unless I have my lower ends bleached before dyeing.
Sunday, 12 May 2013
Lesson in life -on leftover sambals
I have a bad habit of not tasting my food while cooking so it was only after happily digging into my sambal terung that I realised it was bitter and tasted horrible!
And I know it wasn't because I didn't put enough salt but because I had used a 4 day old blended sambal which obviously had turned bad even in the fridge :(
This living on your own and cooking for one (sometimes two) isn't so fun sometimes. I'm not used to cooking such small portions as we usually cook Malay food for an entire family of 4-5 people so there's always leftovers.
And between Frenchy and me, there are always leftovers in the fridge. Well, at least I didn't feed him leftover spoilt sambal. He might hate it for life and then I'm not gonna have anyone to help me finish up my dish!
Religiousizing mother's day
Such a simple day meant to be a day of humble remembrance for our mothers turned out to be an annoying display of religiousity and insulting bigotry on Facebook.
I was told that celebrating Mother's Day is akin to being "jahil" (unbelievers before the advent of Islam) and that as Muslims we should not be following a celebration practised by the other faiths.
Firstly, in Islam it is always the niat (intentions) that are important. So telling me that celebrating mother's day is an act of worshipping the Christian reverend mother is insane. How does a scholar (religious one at that) rationalise such a connection? Or is it just the male religious scholars that have a disdain for celebrations of women?
Translation: Mother's Day is a Day for Church Mother/ Reverend Mother. Whoever wants to celebrate, go ahead. Who ever fears corrupting their morals, don't celebrate.
I felt very sad and insulted to see this being "shared" and "liked" by fellow Muslim family and friends. Have we been so blinded by our need to differentiate and segregate ourselves from those practising other religion that we become such unthinking individuals? Aren't mother's honoured in Islam, as with all other religions?
A friend shared an article with me, written by an ex-professor of mine. It's titled "Mum's aren't super, they're ordinary" and I think it fits in very well with the whole discussion on whether mother's day is allowed or forbidden in Islam.
Firstly, we're not revering our mothers and elevating her status to someone holy.
Second, this date serves a reminder for us busy modern humans to stop and just remember our mothers' contributions and to also forgive her for her humanness. We're so often arguing with them, trying to defy them, that we hardly stop to reflect unless it's Hari Raya right?
Thirdly, it also allows us to be thankful to all our caregivers - our grandmothers, aunts, teachers and even stay-home dads. Culture and society may choose not to give them their deserving attention and praise, but for some, they've become surrogate mothers and caregivers and should be honoured as well.
I was told that celebrating Mother's Day is akin to being "jahil" (unbelievers before the advent of Islam) and that as Muslims we should not be following a celebration practised by the other faiths.
Firstly, in Islam it is always the niat (intentions) that are important. So telling me that celebrating mother's day is an act of worshipping the Christian reverend mother is insane. How does a scholar (religious one at that) rationalise such a connection? Or is it just the male religious scholars that have a disdain for celebrations of women?
Translation: Mother's Day is a Day for Church Mother/ Reverend Mother. Whoever wants to celebrate, go ahead. Who ever fears corrupting their morals, don't celebrate.
I felt very sad and insulted to see this being "shared" and "liked" by fellow Muslim family and friends. Have we been so blinded by our need to differentiate and segregate ourselves from those practising other religion that we become such unthinking individuals? Aren't mother's honoured in Islam, as with all other religions?
A friend shared an article with me, written by an ex-professor of mine. It's titled "Mum's aren't super, they're ordinary" and I think it fits in very well with the whole discussion on whether mother's day is allowed or forbidden in Islam.
Firstly, we're not revering our mothers and elevating her status to someone holy.
Second, this date serves a reminder for us busy modern humans to stop and just remember our mothers' contributions and to also forgive her for her humanness. We're so often arguing with them, trying to defy them, that we hardly stop to reflect unless it's Hari Raya right?
Thirdly, it also allows us to be thankful to all our caregivers - our grandmothers, aunts, teachers and even stay-home dads. Culture and society may choose not to give them their deserving attention and praise, but for some, they've become surrogate mothers and caregivers and should be honoured as well.
Thursday, 9 May 2013
The modern Hijab syndrome
A friend shared an article on Hijab do's and don'ts on Facebook today and I admit, that I too once tried my best to follow the "proper" way of wearing a Hijab and frowned upon the many "updated" ways this could be done. I used to wear a Hijab and now I don't but more of that in another entry perhaps. A few events in my life changed my opinion of this, so I've decided to deconstruct some extracts of the article a little just so that readers, as naive and believing as I was would not fall into a trap of following "rules" without thinking them through.
From: http://www.igotitcovered.org/2011/09/06/tips-to-overcome-the-modern-hijab-syndrome-2/comment-page-1/
So, how is the hijab supposed to be worn? Allah clearly illustrates how a woman should wear it properly in the Qur’an,
“And say to the believing women to lower their gazes, and to guard their private parts, and not to expose their beauty except what is apparent of it, and to extend their headcovers to cover their chests, and not to display their beauty except to their husbands, or their fathers, or their husband’s fathers, or their sons, or their husband’s sons, or their brothers, or their brothers’ sons, or their sisters’ sons, or their womenfolk, or what their right hands rule (slaves), or from the men who have no physical desire, or the small children who are not aware of the private aspects of women, and not to stomp their feet (on the ground) so as to make known what they hide of their adornments (jewelry). And turn to Allah in repentance together, Oh Believers, so that you may succeed.” [24:31]
Therefore, the front of our hijabs should come down low over our chests, not wrapped tight around our necks as is the current style. Imam Abu al-Fida ibn Kathir clarifies how and why:
Comment: I always had a contention on two accounts of this quote. Firstly, when believing women were asked to lower their gazes, this does not literally mean that their eyes have to be covered and yet it is taken literally that the scarf has to cover the chest. Could it also mean in a figurative term that the chest (heart) should be covered; that is your intentions need to be for the right reason? That you are covering your heart from the vices of the world and wishing to submit spiritually to God?“‘Extend their headcovers to cover their bosoms’ means that they should wear the headcover in such a way that they cover their chests so that they will be different from the women of the Jahiliyyah (time before Islam) who did not do that, but would pass in front of men with their chests uncovered and with their necks, forelocks, and earrings uncovered.”
Second, it is said that women may display their beauty to men who have no physical desire. Now, how easy is this to determine? "Excuse me sir, do you have any physical desire? No, okay thanks". Trust me, growing up, I was not exactly the size and figure of choice for many guys to deem as "desirable". And, may I also say that if the men here have no physical desire (assuming towards women), then would that mean that men who have desires for other men are okay?
This explanation also denounces three other current styles that have been prominent these days:
1. Naked Neck. Exposing the neck by pinning the scarf to the back was the exact way women before Islam wore their scarves. Some would even wear heavy and glittering jewelry around their necks to emphasize the look. Islam came to wash away the unnecessary customs and prohibit the harmful actions of our forefathers, so why reintroduce what Islam has already ruled against? Islam has ordered that our necks are considered part of what the hijab must cover, so please bring the ends of your scarf to the front of your neck if you do prefer to pin your scarf in the back. Or you could simply pin your scarf to the front under your chin and let the ends fall loosely over your neck.
Comment: I get it, Muslims want to differentiate themselves from some nuns who wear their habits in this fashion. But I also feel a need to question what "unnecessary customs" and "harmful actions of our forefathers" are. If these refer to the act of exposing the neck, then I must say that men, you have to be ashamed of yourselves! Stop wanking in the train to that lovely muslimah's exposed neck!
2. Slippery Bangs. A sister’s hair bangs might fall out from under the scarf to the front over the foreheads and sometimes eyes. It’s grown pretty common to have the bangs styled, cut, and highlighted just so that they have a pleasant appearance when they fall out of the scarf. We see the photos of models for clothing lines everywhere. If the model doesn’t have her hair tied back, then her bangs are falling over her eyes, giving her a seductive look. With that said, it’s easy to keep bangs from slipping by wearing headbands or hairclips, which can be found at the super market. Undercap-pieces specifically designed to be worn under a scarf can be used to keep the bangs from falling out as well.
Comment: Okay girls, you know what to do if you wanna seduce your boyfriends/husbands. Make sure your bangs cover your eyes for it will give you a seductive look.Okay, sarcasm aside, men, you have no idea what hijabis have to go through everyday. It's a constant check in the mirror/reflections to make sure not a single strand of hair is flying around because god forbids, some guy will start wanking if he sees that seductive strand.
This reminds me of the sister in Sister Act (the one in the extreme right). Her bangs are out but I do not see it any way seductive. I understand that the author is writing of the fashion trends in places like Iran but again, going back to the original Quran verses, I do feel that it is not so much of how a woman is wearing her scarf but why she's wearing it that matters. Why are men (see here that it is the authority of the Imam's words being used) ascribing so much restrictions on women to control our sexuality without much examining of their own?
3. Protruding Ears. Sometimes, a sister will allow the ears and earrings to peek out from the sides. Earrings are flashy in general, and in this specific case, the earrings are usually huge and sparkly. There is no other reason for displaying earrings outside the scarf besides wanting to add a more attractive look to what is worn. Tuck them in, please.
Comment: As above.
Now before we move on to other more socially imposed restrictions on the use of hijabs, I would just like to share a story of my mother and how I have accepted her change in her hijab styles over the years because her intentions had always remained the same.
My mum used to be the type of woman who never used make up, wore long baggy clothes and did her hijab low and often making herself look so unattractive I'm sure she could just blend into the wall. She did it because it was part of keeping her beauty for her husband yada yada. But the truth is, men don't really like their wives to dress and look like a hag (sorry mum). He wants others to know that he is proud of his beautiful wife and even if she is not, he had at least provided her enough to make her look stunning (e.g. beautiful clothes).
So when my dad left my mum for someone else, she was shattered. She felt that her "beauty" which she had shielded from the public for the sole reason of pleasing her husband, was not enough. Then came the change. She started to dress and style her hijab in a more modern way, used make up and jewellery all NOT for the intention of showing off her beauty to other men but to make herself happy and to tell herself that she is beautiful. She said that so often in pleasing our husbands, we forget to love and please ourselves. Loving that her lips are red from lipstick or that my scarf is beautifully done does not lessen her love or obedience to God. Kudos to that.
I am now going to highlight a few more styles of today that our sisters should be aware of.
4. Piled High. This can be achieved by wearing a cushion above the head or ponytail and wrapping the scarf over it. Other styles include adding a large flower to the top or intricately twisting the scarf into a bun and pinning it to the side. Unfortunately, this creates a sign above the head saying “Check Me Out!” For your own good, don’t do it because the Prophet salla Allahu alayhi wasallam has also given us warnings for those who dress in this fashion in the following two ahadith:
Abu Hurairah relates that the Prophet salla Allahu alayhi wasallam said,
“There are two categories among the inhabitants of Hell whom I have not encountered. The first are people who carry whips like the tails of cows and beat the people with them. The second are women, clothed yet naked, drawn to licentiousness and enticing others to it, their heads like the swaying humps of camels. They will neither enter Paradise nor even smell its fragrance, though its fragrance can be found to a great distance.” [Sahih Muslim]
The Prophet salla Allahu alayhi wasallam also stated,
“There will be in the last of my Ummah, scantily dressed women, the hair on the top of their heads like a camel’s hump. Curse them, for verily they are cursed.” [At-Tabarani and Sahih Muslim]
So, from these ahadith, my sisters in Islam and I should be careful to stay away from this look in whatever way it can be created.
Comment: I don't know how the hadith's reference to the piled hair of scantily dressed women got transposed to becoming cushions, ponytails and "buns" that create the "check me out" look. I mean I've worn the Hijab before and how the hell do you expect me to not bun my hair under my scarf in this 35degrees heat when it's long?
5. Falling Scarf. The scarf simply slips off to the shoulders whenever it gets too tired at the top and exposes luscious locks of hair. Wear a scarf with not-so-silky material that would have more friction and prevent it to come loose or slip. Pinning the scarf at the top or side is usually helpful too.
6. Body-Suit Tightness. This occurs when skinny jeans, tights, or body-shirts are worn. It also takes place whenever other clothes, such as dresses, are skin-tight, as if they’ve been painted on. This image completely contradicts the whole standard of modesty, which is the purpose of hijab. What the woman is doing is putting her figure on display. Even if a long blouse is worn on top of the body-shirt and skinny jeans to cover her chest and thighs, her arms and shins are still emphasized. Looser clothing should be worn instead.
Comment: Okay, there is a point here that I agree - that body hugging clothes are contradictory to the whole idea of Hijab but I think we can be flexible with the arms and shins yeah? See the thing here is, there is an assumption or a "truth" if you may call it, that men are sexually excited by every inch of exposed skin or even the shape of it. In this regard, then men should also be banned from walking around topless (which is allowed) or wearing tight fitting shirts over nice abs because that sexually excites me. Where's the protection for them then? What if I rape them?
7. Made-up face. Eyeshadow, colored lipstick, blush, and bronzer are all products of the make-up industry. However, we’re all already beautiful products of Allah’s creation, so why use tools of society to demean ourselves in the process of submitting to what society claims should be beautiful? And why try to enhance your beauty when you’re going to be amongst the same people you’re wearing hijab in front of in order to conceal your beauty in the first place? Besides, if people don’t appreciate the way Allah created you, then they don’t deserve your efforts to abide by their judgments.
Comment: I think it's a bit extreme to say that using make-up demeans ourselves. I think the author also forgets to see that while society has constructed what is deemed as "beautiful", society has also attached certain (negative) implications to it. I'm sure the Quran made no link between wearing lipstick and being slutty but why did we? In fact, why is there a double standards in the enhancement of beauty amongst men and women in Islam? Why are men allowed to grow their beards (which can sometimes look sexy yes?) and wear attar scents (which can be attractive smells) but women have A-Z restrictions?
The reason this advice is being repeated is for the simple fact that as those who cover, we are not only representing ourselves, but the entire population of Muslim women who wear hijab. Firstly, we owe it to ourselves, and to our relationship with Allah, to seek ihsaan (perfection) in applying His rulings. If we’ve taken the first step in covering, then alhamdulillah; but let’s not stop there. Only by fulfilling the requirements of hijab can hijab then fulfill the purpose it was commanded for. Wearing hijab properly will protect us, make us conscious of our actions, and establish our respectability in society. And only through following Allah’s command as it was sent down can we hope to draw even closer in our love and obedience to Him.
Comment: Protect us from... what? And are you saying if I'm not wearing a Hijab I'm not conscious of my actions and worst, be an unrespected human being in society? -sigh- It is almost as if our identities, consciousness and intellect cannot be properly understood if we are not ascribed particular clothings that signify our gender.
Now, from my own personal experience of wearing the Hijab, I can tell you that all the restrictions placed above has not made Muslimahs better but have created an atmosphere of judging amongst us.
My first experience of this was when I went to the mosque -dressed in a long skirt and turtleneck long sleeved blouse to carry out one of the daily prayers. I had then not worn the hijab yet at that time. I remembered entering the upper floors and having all these women look at me as if I was naked. They didn't say it but you could see their disapproval in their eyes and facial expressions.
I think then, I started putting on the headscarf because I wanted to escape this judgemental looks. Then came the advise from various womenfolk that my sleeve was not long enough, I couldn't wear pants, my blouse needs to fall below my hips and so on. And I'm like... I'm not the one walking around in shorts and tank tops! Why are you picking on me when the other Malay girls out there could use some education in the ideals of muslimah dressings?
The irony of wearing the hijab (at least in Singapore) was that, while I was practically invisible to the male species, I became extremely visible to the roving eyes of other hijabi women. I didn't feel protected as I should and I became hyper-conscious of my actions to the point that I'm sure I was just putting up a show rather than being sincere about it.
Self-fulfilling prophecy?
Just saw this on Facebook and am actually very upset
Translation: Women may appear weak but they have two strengths that better in comparable to men that is
1) Emotional strength
2) Mouth that has "laser super power" i.e. to gossip, backbite etc
Don't you think it is precisely these stereotypical views of women that just compounds upon itself and becomes "truths"? Honestly, how can you look at your daughter/wife/mother and say in a mocking tone that they have "strengths" alright and that's for gossiping.
And what's with the ustadz's picture to accompany the picture? As if the image of a pious-looking (mental association in play there) justifies and immortalises the caption.
The thing is, gossiping and backbiting is essentially a human trait. It is HUMAN to want to know what other's are doing; putting others down so you can be in the better light, sharing information to increase your power/knowledge and so on. It is not a "woman" or "man" characteristic.
But the worst is when I see close friends and family posting these up, perhaps without really thinking it through. It makes me sad. And as I said, can you honestly post this up to mock women in your family? I wouldn't.
Sunday, 5 May 2013
In search of the right spouse II
During my undergraduate days, there was a particular feminist scholar, Nirmala PuroShotam that blew my mind away with her view on family and relationships in Singapore, that I (and so many of us) have always assumed as "normal".
One of her more memorable phrases that I still remember until now is how every marriage is inter-racial, seeing that the performance of "race" is not universal even amongst the group of people that are legally defined as being in the same "race". Take my parents for example, according to the state, they are both "Malays" but in practice, my mother is Javanese while my father is Bugis/Boyanese. In terms of language alone, they are not similar and more so in terms of cuisine. I remembered my mother having a lot of difficulty learning the Boyanese dishes that were not similar to her own Javanese recipes. Yet, their marriage rested on their use of societal knowledge that is drawn from a variety of sources - some, as the case of language and food can differ, but some interpretations of "Malay-ness" is still similar. For example, both value "Hari Raya Aidilfitri/Aidiladha and would see to it that we visit all the elders during that period. Both also placed great importance in the religious upbringing of their children. However, in terms of secular education, my parents' view of "Malay-ness" differed. My mother felt that Malays needed to prove themselves and not be pushed to the back of the class. I would say that my mum was hardass with me which was why I scored well in school I suppose. On the other hand, my father was more the "relax one corner" type. He encouraged our non-academic interests in music, arts and was happy as long as we passed our exams.
However, hardly do we ever stop to think of marriage as being inter-racial this way, although it is. So then what makes an "inter-ethnic marriage" so... controversial (and complicated)? According to PuroShotam, it is the recognisably visible phenotypical differences perceived to exist between the concerned couple. In Frenchy's and my situation, it would be the lack of similar societal knowledge concerning "Malayness" and "Frenchness".
In one occasion, I had brought him along to a Malay wedding and we were served Sambal Goreng Pengantin (a spicy dish of mixed meat). While eating, he suddenly made a strange face and asked what was the piece of meat he was eating and I told him it was paru (cow lung). I was proud of him for still swallowing it and not puking his guts out. A fine example of mismatch in societal knowledge. Eating almost all parts of the cow (and here you can add chicken and lamb/goat) is common not just in the Malay culture but also in Asia. I suppose it's because protein from meat was expensive back in the kampung days that it was crucial to make the most of the animal.
However, in a postmodern world (or high modernity, whichever school of thought you belong to), does the performance of race matters that much? In Singapore, the introduction of a double-barrelled race already challenges this discourse, as with the increasing inter-racial/nationality marriage trends. Taking away race, marriage and everything else, doesn't really make us lifeless, directionless souls I feel. Surely, we are more multifaceted than just the titles on our identity cards?
For more reading on PuroShotam's work, see: PuruShotam, Nirmala. 2004.“Bride Pride and Grooming Prejudices: Race Matters in Marriage.” In (Un) tying The Knot: Ideal and Reality in Asian Marriage.
One of her more memorable phrases that I still remember until now is how every marriage is inter-racial, seeing that the performance of "race" is not universal even amongst the group of people that are legally defined as being in the same "race". Take my parents for example, according to the state, they are both "Malays" but in practice, my mother is Javanese while my father is Bugis/Boyanese. In terms of language alone, they are not similar and more so in terms of cuisine. I remembered my mother having a lot of difficulty learning the Boyanese dishes that were not similar to her own Javanese recipes. Yet, their marriage rested on their use of societal knowledge that is drawn from a variety of sources - some, as the case of language and food can differ, but some interpretations of "Malay-ness" is still similar. For example, both value "Hari Raya Aidilfitri/Aidiladha and would see to it that we visit all the elders during that period. Both also placed great importance in the religious upbringing of their children. However, in terms of secular education, my parents' view of "Malay-ness" differed. My mother felt that Malays needed to prove themselves and not be pushed to the back of the class. I would say that my mum was hardass with me which was why I scored well in school I suppose. On the other hand, my father was more the "relax one corner" type. He encouraged our non-academic interests in music, arts and was happy as long as we passed our exams.
However, hardly do we ever stop to think of marriage as being inter-racial this way, although it is. So then what makes an "inter-ethnic marriage" so... controversial (and complicated)? According to PuroShotam, it is the recognisably visible phenotypical differences perceived to exist between the concerned couple. In Frenchy's and my situation, it would be the lack of similar societal knowledge concerning "Malayness" and "Frenchness".
In one occasion, I had brought him along to a Malay wedding and we were served Sambal Goreng Pengantin (a spicy dish of mixed meat). While eating, he suddenly made a strange face and asked what was the piece of meat he was eating and I told him it was paru (cow lung). I was proud of him for still swallowing it and not puking his guts out. A fine example of mismatch in societal knowledge. Eating almost all parts of the cow (and here you can add chicken and lamb/goat) is common not just in the Malay culture but also in Asia. I suppose it's because protein from meat was expensive back in the kampung days that it was crucial to make the most of the animal.
However, in a postmodern world (or high modernity, whichever school of thought you belong to), does the performance of race matters that much? In Singapore, the introduction of a double-barrelled race already challenges this discourse, as with the increasing inter-racial/nationality marriage trends. Taking away race, marriage and everything else, doesn't really make us lifeless, directionless souls I feel. Surely, we are more multifaceted than just the titles on our identity cards?
For more reading on PuroShotam's work, see: PuruShotam, Nirmala. 2004.“Bride Pride and Grooming Prejudices: Race Matters in Marriage.” In (Un) tying The Knot: Ideal and Reality in Asian Marriage.
In search of the right spouse I
Frenchie and I are not married yet but it's on our list of things to do. I suppose you can say that it's not easy for us to get married due to the clash of cultures and religion surrounding both of us. He was born a Catholic in France and I was born a Muslim in Singapore. Add that to the cultural difference, you've got yourself a big mess.
As to how we met... well, he'll tell you that we met in a library (bookstore) where we wanted to buy the same book and he couldn't stop talking to me about it so I ended up asking him out for coffee to continue talking about it. Plus he got the book for me so that's a bonus.
But what I remembered most about our first meeting was how we were both sweaty - me from gym and him from running around all day in the lab. We weren't really dressed for a date and we ended up drinking coffee by the side of the river just watching the lunar eclipse. We talked for hours really... till about 1am on a Monday night about all sorts of things from cross-pollination of plants, about the salmons communicating by rubbing their skins against each other and a host of other (almost geeky) stuff. We barely knew each other and yet we were talking like we've known each other all our lives.
I didn't know what struck me about that moment; sprawled on the stone steps by the water, smelling of sweat and really - not the impression-making kinda moment. But it did. I was myself and so was he and we didn't care how each other looked nor were we pretending to say things or do things to make the other like us. And there it was.
We saw each other everyday that week and now, a little after a year later, we go to sleep every night, holding hands. <3
Tuesday, 30 April 2013
Don't go though life with a checklist
There's a movie that I liked called "Something New" and while the plot is simple and expected enough, I think the message I got from it was clear: that it shouldn't matter what's your skin colour or what cultural norms you have to conform to. The main point is not to go through life with a checklist of what is right and wrong; what to look out for for the 'perfect man/woman'.
During my adolescence, I was very upset with how much I had to conform to the notion of being 'malay' and I never accepted it. By the time I finally became an undergraduate, I finally understood that race is a state construction, imposed on us and because my mental reality does not correspond to what the government tells me that I am and it led to a lot of conflict, socially and culturally.
It pained me to be forced to do Malay cultural activities such as drama and dance not because I do not like the culture but of how the schools seemed to feel that we token Malays (in Chinese-dominant schools) ought to fill up the space for that particular CCA, regardless of whether we liked it or not. Socially, the rejection of my race also spilled into my choice for cliques and even relationships.
Throughout my primary school years, my friends were all chinese and I was one of the 4 malays in my class yet I never did group projects with them... because I identified myself more with my chinese friends. Why? Maybe because I went to chinese kindergarten or maybe because I was always sitting beside a chinese guy/girl in class. [we used to seat according to height and I was the tallest in class so I sat at the back]
It took me 11 years to realise that I was the top Malay PSLE student in my school AND IT DIDN'T OCCUR TO ME THAT I WAS! Lol. I saw myself as equal to my friends and not separated by skin colour or language and me being the top didn't mean a thing. The logic that the government is enforcing on us is to recognize our differences so blatantly by saying 'ooohhh look, she's the top psle malay student!' like some zoo animal to be separated from the general population. But it shouldn't be like that.
Despite my desire not to be part of my own 'racial' constructed society, I've been constantly reminded by my parents and by my family and community of how much I have to conform to their values.
Let's take marriage for example - to conform is to get married early, have lots of children and the checklist would include:
-a man who is of the same academic qualifications as you
-has worked for a few years so he has enough CPF to buy a flat with you
-muslim so that he can lead your family through prayers etc.
-preferably malay so he can integrate into the family easily
And the list goes on.
Two years ago, when my [ex] bf asked my mother if he could marry me, she said no because she thought he wasn't university educated and just a simple technician in some company. But of course he's doing his degree part time and a year later when she found out, she started taking cards from weddings for their catering and decorations, she's putting aside money for me to get married etc. And it disgusts me.
He meets the requirements on the checklist - he's malay, muslim, university educated, worked enough with lots of cpf and is of acceptable age, kind, gentle etc etc.
But the truth is... this is not my list. This is my mother's list, my community's list... and never mine. But in Singapore, you have to have that list because everything is too ordered, there is no place for mistakes and no place for adventure.
It took me a long while to finally get it. There's a lot more to life than carrying this checklist around. I'm not saying that it's bad to conform, but are the actions that we take while conforming to societal expectations a result of our own agency or simply passive acceptance of someone else's list?
So I hope in 10 years time, when I look back at this entry and see how much of my life I've gone through without following someone else's checklist, I hope I'll be happy. =)
During my adolescence, I was very upset with how much I had to conform to the notion of being 'malay' and I never accepted it. By the time I finally became an undergraduate, I finally understood that race is a state construction, imposed on us and because my mental reality does not correspond to what the government tells me that I am and it led to a lot of conflict, socially and culturally.
It pained me to be forced to do Malay cultural activities such as drama and dance not because I do not like the culture but of how the schools seemed to feel that we token Malays (in Chinese-dominant schools) ought to fill up the space for that particular CCA, regardless of whether we liked it or not. Socially, the rejection of my race also spilled into my choice for cliques and even relationships.
Throughout my primary school years, my friends were all chinese and I was one of the 4 malays in my class yet I never did group projects with them... because I identified myself more with my chinese friends. Why? Maybe because I went to chinese kindergarten or maybe because I was always sitting beside a chinese guy/girl in class. [we used to seat according to height and I was the tallest in class so I sat at the back]
It took me 11 years to realise that I was the top Malay PSLE student in my school AND IT DIDN'T OCCUR TO ME THAT I WAS! Lol. I saw myself as equal to my friends and not separated by skin colour or language and me being the top didn't mean a thing. The logic that the government is enforcing on us is to recognize our differences so blatantly by saying 'ooohhh look, she's the top psle malay student!' like some zoo animal to be separated from the general population. But it shouldn't be like that.
Despite my desire not to be part of my own 'racial' constructed society, I've been constantly reminded by my parents and by my family and community of how much I have to conform to their values.
Let's take marriage for example - to conform is to get married early, have lots of children and the checklist would include:
-a man who is of the same academic qualifications as you
-has worked for a few years so he has enough CPF to buy a flat with you
-muslim so that he can lead your family through prayers etc.
-preferably malay so he can integrate into the family easily
And the list goes on.
Two years ago, when my [ex] bf asked my mother if he could marry me, she said no because she thought he wasn't university educated and just a simple technician in some company. But of course he's doing his degree part time and a year later when she found out, she started taking cards from weddings for their catering and decorations, she's putting aside money for me to get married etc. And it disgusts me.
He meets the requirements on the checklist - he's malay, muslim, university educated, worked enough with lots of cpf and is of acceptable age, kind, gentle etc etc.
But the truth is... this is not my list. This is my mother's list, my community's list... and never mine. But in Singapore, you have to have that list because everything is too ordered, there is no place for mistakes and no place for adventure.
It took me a long while to finally get it. There's a lot more to life than carrying this checklist around. I'm not saying that it's bad to conform, but are the actions that we take while conforming to societal expectations a result of our own agency or simply passive acceptance of someone else's list?
So I hope in 10 years time, when I look back at this entry and see how much of my life I've gone through without following someone else's checklist, I hope I'll be happy. =)
Saturday, 27 April 2013
Clubbing in Singapore
Clubbing was always seen as one of those 'vices' which was reserved for the very bad but bold. I was warned that it was a scene of sleaze alcohol and shameless dressing. For me, that sounded like something I had to do at least once in my life. It wasn't just the rebellious part of me speaking but it was also that I hated listening to my parents telling me that was something was bad without me judging it for myself.
Even then, I got into the clubbing scene much later than most of my peers. Only at the age of 23 did I dare to venture into a club as my curfews were set much later to 12 or 1am. However, that is the time when the party's just started eh?
My first experience was at St James Powerhouse with some of my former secondary school friends. I remembered feeling extremely fat as most of the Chinese girls (I didn't see girls of other races much) were slim, petite and had nice legs. And the guys there were obviously into that kind and treated anything above 60kg or equivalent to their weight an eyesore. And I'm sorry guys... you really spoil the scene with your passive standing-around and furious typing on your handphones like your life depended on it. I appreciated the music, for I loved dancing but I felt extremely rejected and almost unappreciated as a woman. Subsequent visits there and to other places like Butter Factory proved my point.
It was only last year when me and my cousins discovered Movida which was housed in St James and that was where I found my calling. I realised that the clubbing/dancing experience lies very much in the company around you. Movida had a live band that played Latin songs and after years of doing Malay dance, you can say I fitted right in. It was all about the gelek (shaking of the hips) and basically dancing instead of jumping up and down on the spot. Heh. And the crowd! The men were dancing! Not just standing pressed against the walls and playing with their handphones. I was thrilled.
Movida however, attracted a different kind of crowd - the expat crowd and perhaps it was their open personalities that attracted me to the place. Although some guys were out to fish for one night stands, some were truly there to enjoy themselves and that was what I liked. They danced crazy silly moves, so un-self conscious (even the girls) that you just know you've got to join them! Plus they always make you feel like you're beautiful (sometimes they'll tell you) and I think a woman deserves to hear that, regardless of what shape she is!
So my verdict after almost two years of trying out the clubbing scene? It's not really as bad as how my mum seems to make it out to be. In fact, I enjoy being around people, tilting my head up to look at the lights and just losing myself to the music. The sociological term for it is "collective effervescence". Durkheim may have used it to describe religious gatherings, but I think the concept applies here as well. It's that feeling of being ecstatic yet faintly lucid, rendered by the close interactions and intersubjective experience with others - which was why I said the crowd is just as important as the music.
Even then, I got into the clubbing scene much later than most of my peers. Only at the age of 23 did I dare to venture into a club as my curfews were set much later to 12 or 1am. However, that is the time when the party's just started eh?
My first experience was at St James Powerhouse with some of my former secondary school friends. I remembered feeling extremely fat as most of the Chinese girls (I didn't see girls of other races much) were slim, petite and had nice legs. And the guys there were obviously into that kind and treated anything above 60kg or equivalent to their weight an eyesore. And I'm sorry guys... you really spoil the scene with your passive standing-around and furious typing on your handphones like your life depended on it. I appreciated the music, for I loved dancing but I felt extremely rejected and almost unappreciated as a woman. Subsequent visits there and to other places like Butter Factory proved my point.
It was only last year when me and my cousins discovered Movida which was housed in St James and that was where I found my calling. I realised that the clubbing/dancing experience lies very much in the company around you. Movida had a live band that played Latin songs and after years of doing Malay dance, you can say I fitted right in. It was all about the gelek (shaking of the hips) and basically dancing instead of jumping up and down on the spot. Heh. And the crowd! The men were dancing! Not just standing pressed against the walls and playing with their handphones. I was thrilled.
Movida however, attracted a different kind of crowd - the expat crowd and perhaps it was their open personalities that attracted me to the place. Although some guys were out to fish for one night stands, some were truly there to enjoy themselves and that was what I liked. They danced crazy silly moves, so un-self conscious (even the girls) that you just know you've got to join them! Plus they always make you feel like you're beautiful (sometimes they'll tell you) and I think a woman deserves to hear that, regardless of what shape she is!
So my verdict after almost two years of trying out the clubbing scene? It's not really as bad as how my mum seems to make it out to be. In fact, I enjoy being around people, tilting my head up to look at the lights and just losing myself to the music. The sociological term for it is "collective effervescence". Durkheim may have used it to describe religious gatherings, but I think the concept applies here as well. It's that feeling of being ecstatic yet faintly lucid, rendered by the close interactions and intersubjective experience with others - which was why I said the crowd is just as important as the music.
Thursday, 25 April 2013
Societal disapproval of domestic partnerships
Recently, I've begun to hate filling up official form because of 4 things:
1) Declaring my status as 'Single'
2) Declaring my religion as "Muslim"
3) Declaring my emergency contact person as my "Spouse" (other options being Father, Mother, Child)
4) Explaining and getting weird looks/voices of people regarding my status.
Yes I am single (according to the census) but I'm also in a domestic partnership, which in some other countries constitutes similar status to married couples. Then comes the stigma of having illegitimate intimacy (i.e. sex) which is also compounded by the fact that I am Muslim (i.e. a religion viewed to be absolutely strict in such matters).
It is hard to explain to a bureaucrat that "single" as a status is a social construct used to label and classify people and also as an assertion of an (almost) deviant nature of not conforming to societal expectations of a nuclear and legitimate (i.e. legal and heterosexual) family. Having worked in a department that handled the population figures, I know only too well what this entails. It involves a lot of singling out (haha) of singles and trying to convert them into the acceptable dominant group.
I've always felt that it is precisely this insistence on legitimacy that contributes to Singapore's low birth rates. And this is problematic for two reasons:
1) Many Singaporeans view sex as taboo. I swear, I have married friends who have yet to consummate their marriage thinking that sex is dirty. And there are others (both men and women) who complain that their spouses are not interested in sex even after marriage. Which is ironic, seeing how the whole idea of intimacy, conception and family is reserved only to a legitimately married couple! So if our married population aren't even at step 1 of reproducing, how can we expect a rise in birth rates? On the other hand, we also have those who may not be married but enjoy sex very much. However, doing so has to be done in secret and shame and guilt is often a product in retrospect. And to have a baby out of wedlock?! Unforgivable! Sometimes I think the pagans got it right. Before religion, sex, fertility, reproduction were given importance and women were given very high regard in this respect. And after religion - well, let's face it, we're all sexually repressed individuals.
2) We need to start accepting (and supporting) other forms of healthy relationships that can/may nurture children. This includes single parents, LGBT couples and then of course socially-unacceptable statuses like mine. I think a child-centric approach is the way to go but I also understand that moving out of this nuclear-family discourse is also hard for many Singaporeans.
[NB: This is of course a generalist and personal view based on experience and anecdotal evidences]
Right, I digress.
My point is that, even on a form that is supposedly unbiased and neutral suddenly becomes a site of contestation of my identity and implicitly, my morality. I know, when I see it in the eyes of the HR exec or in their intonation that their disapproval of my status affects their perception of my ability to perform my assigned duties. So in other words, I might as well declare that I am lesbian and I would face the same prejudice. I feel for them, honestly.
There is always a tendency to fall back on the familiar; the comfort zone and I can honestly say that there are times I wish I could just go back to my family home, forget about this whole independence thing and trying to find my own way in life. I wouldn't say that I recommend everyone I know to try and be in a partnership with someone but I will say that it has taught me so much about living than if I had been a hermit crab all my life.
1) Accomodation
We Singaporeans are so pampered that we don't even realise it. We live so comfortably under our parents' roof; we have their support while we anxiously wait for our Built-to-Order flats. Take yourself out of that, you realise what a cut-throat world the property market is and how precious your salary is to fork out for rent, which you previously had not thought about.
2) Housework
Thankfully I've been doing my own laundry, cooking and cleaning since I was 18. At that time, my brother fell ill and the household chores automatically became mine. But housework in a partnership is very much different than that. Of course I naturally feel compelled to play the role of the housewife (especially now that I'm home most of the time) but I know I'm not obliged to because of the word of God/state law ascribing to me such wifely duties. Housework in a partnership is like dancing around each other as seamlessly as possible. Maybe it's just my luck to be with someone who does his own laundry, cleans the toilet and loves cooking because to me, our relationship is as egalitarian as it can get.
3) Taking Chances
I've recently learnt that Frenchy and I have different conceptions of what a holiday mean. To me, it's something you take for 1-2 weeks every 6 months but for him, it's small little escapes every month or so. In fact we've just booked ourselves two holidays in the coming months out of the blue last night. I think the reality still hasn't sunk in yet because I'm rarely the kind of person to do such things unplanned like this. But ever since I've been with Frenchy, life is pretty much about taking chances. It's all about going to random places, not planning but going with the flow kinda thing. From a wound, uptight person, I can safely say that I have come to view life in a much more relaxed way and try to accept the little unpredictabilities that come my way.
There's still a lot more for me to learn, but one of the most important lesson from my decisions so far is that no matter what you do, you'll always regret what you did not do. Life then seems like so full of regret, so why not do what's best to allow you to live?
1) Declaring my status as 'Single'
2) Declaring my religion as "Muslim"
3) Declaring my emergency contact person as my "Spouse" (other options being Father, Mother, Child)
4) Explaining and getting weird looks/voices of people regarding my status.
Yes I am single (according to the census) but I'm also in a domestic partnership, which in some other countries constitutes similar status to married couples. Then comes the stigma of having illegitimate intimacy (i.e. sex) which is also compounded by the fact that I am Muslim (i.e. a religion viewed to be absolutely strict in such matters).
It is hard to explain to a bureaucrat that "single" as a status is a social construct used to label and classify people and also as an assertion of an (almost) deviant nature of not conforming to societal expectations of a nuclear and legitimate (i.e. legal and heterosexual) family. Having worked in a department that handled the population figures, I know only too well what this entails. It involves a lot of singling out (haha) of singles and trying to convert them into the acceptable dominant group.
I've always felt that it is precisely this insistence on legitimacy that contributes to Singapore's low birth rates. And this is problematic for two reasons:
1) Many Singaporeans view sex as taboo. I swear, I have married friends who have yet to consummate their marriage thinking that sex is dirty. And there are others (both men and women) who complain that their spouses are not interested in sex even after marriage. Which is ironic, seeing how the whole idea of intimacy, conception and family is reserved only to a legitimately married couple! So if our married population aren't even at step 1 of reproducing, how can we expect a rise in birth rates? On the other hand, we also have those who may not be married but enjoy sex very much. However, doing so has to be done in secret and shame and guilt is often a product in retrospect. And to have a baby out of wedlock?! Unforgivable! Sometimes I think the pagans got it right. Before religion, sex, fertility, reproduction were given importance and women were given very high regard in this respect. And after religion - well, let's face it, we're all sexually repressed individuals.
2) We need to start accepting (and supporting) other forms of healthy relationships that can/may nurture children. This includes single parents, LGBT couples and then of course socially-unacceptable statuses like mine. I think a child-centric approach is the way to go but I also understand that moving out of this nuclear-family discourse is also hard for many Singaporeans.
[NB: This is of course a generalist and personal view based on experience and anecdotal evidences]
Right, I digress.
My point is that, even on a form that is supposedly unbiased and neutral suddenly becomes a site of contestation of my identity and implicitly, my morality. I know, when I see it in the eyes of the HR exec or in their intonation that their disapproval of my status affects their perception of my ability to perform my assigned duties. So in other words, I might as well declare that I am lesbian and I would face the same prejudice. I feel for them, honestly.
There is always a tendency to fall back on the familiar; the comfort zone and I can honestly say that there are times I wish I could just go back to my family home, forget about this whole independence thing and trying to find my own way in life. I wouldn't say that I recommend everyone I know to try and be in a partnership with someone but I will say that it has taught me so much about living than if I had been a hermit crab all my life.
1) Accomodation
We Singaporeans are so pampered that we don't even realise it. We live so comfortably under our parents' roof; we have their support while we anxiously wait for our Built-to-Order flats. Take yourself out of that, you realise what a cut-throat world the property market is and how precious your salary is to fork out for rent, which you previously had not thought about.
2) Housework
Thankfully I've been doing my own laundry, cooking and cleaning since I was 18. At that time, my brother fell ill and the household chores automatically became mine. But housework in a partnership is very much different than that. Of course I naturally feel compelled to play the role of the housewife (especially now that I'm home most of the time) but I know I'm not obliged to because of the word of God/state law ascribing to me such wifely duties. Housework in a partnership is like dancing around each other as seamlessly as possible. Maybe it's just my luck to be with someone who does his own laundry, cleans the toilet and loves cooking because to me, our relationship is as egalitarian as it can get.
3) Taking Chances
I've recently learnt that Frenchy and I have different conceptions of what a holiday mean. To me, it's something you take for 1-2 weeks every 6 months but for him, it's small little escapes every month or so. In fact we've just booked ourselves two holidays in the coming months out of the blue last night. I think the reality still hasn't sunk in yet because I'm rarely the kind of person to do such things unplanned like this. But ever since I've been with Frenchy, life is pretty much about taking chances. It's all about going to random places, not planning but going with the flow kinda thing. From a wound, uptight person, I can safely say that I have come to view life in a much more relaxed way and try to accept the little unpredictabilities that come my way.
There's still a lot more for me to learn, but one of the most important lesson from my decisions so far is that no matter what you do, you'll always regret what you did not do. Life then seems like so full of regret, so why not do what's best to allow you to live?
Tuesday, 23 April 2013
Japan holiday
My first ever trip overseas (no kidding) at the age of 25 with my girl friends was to Japan. I was desperate to get out of the country and so I took the first opportunity that came along and I would say I had no regrets.
Japan in spring was like a sharp twinge in your head after eating a sweet sour lemon tart. It was refreshing and a real eye-opening experience. The people were the most polite I've ever met; their transportation so efficient and the food? Simple and affordable (if you eat in the small little street shops).
We stayed at Ikebukuro in Tokyo which was not exactly a touristy place and for that we were rewarded with the pleasure of eating in cozy little street shops and actually watching people cycling to get to work; mothers shepherding their kids to school in the morning and such. Also, that meant that I got a lot of curious looks as I don't exactly look Chinese/South Korean/Japanese (the likes of which would blend in more easily). Travelling with a group of Chinese girls but rattling in English was also another source of curious looks.
Day 1
On our itinerary was a trip down to Tsukiji Fish Market. You can find more info here: http://www.japan-guide.com/e/e3021.html. But the place is stunning. We didn't make it early enough to see the tuna auction but by the time we reached the market was buzzing with life and not to mention fresh products.
The aim of the trip was to eat the freshest sushi for breakfast/lunch but that also meant queuing for hours. We stood in the cold for about 3 before we were rewarded with our meal (to me, 14 degrees is freaking cold seeing that the airconditioning in Singapore never falls below 16). But the wait was worth it. Although, I must shamelessly say that I got too hungry to take photos.
Moving on, we decided that after a good meal, we deserved to walk a little so we ventured to Ueno, hoping to see some Sakura blossoms! And we did! We were actually really lucky as it was nearing the end of the sakura season and most of the trees had turned green by then.
Ueno park itself, is beautiful. It is at times like these that I wish Singapore wasn't so hot so it would be this enjoyable to stroll down the park and just admire nature's beauty.
Day 2
We started the day with no plan in mind. Our only aim was to find a cat cafe and eat street food. So, we walked around Ikebukuro, exploring the many shops and admiring the Japanese sense of fashion.
Eating in Japan was a funny experience. As you can see, we had to buy our food from a vending machine which issue us with coupons to be given to the cook. We were amused by this process and yet impressed by the efficiency. However, having everything on the screen in Japanese was difficult for me as I couldn't tell what was pork and what wasn't. I try not to consciously eat pork, so as much as possible I wanted to avoid it. Thankfully there were some similarities in the characters between Chinese and Japanese so my friends helped to select the food for me.
First meal of the day consisted of a beef bowl with poached egg and miso soup. It was really affordable as well at only 600yen (about $7). I realised that in Japan, the portions are really big and generous and we were really wondering how the Japanese women stayed so thin. Seriously. So we shameless had to admit that we were glutton for when we stepped out of the little Japanese shop, takoyaki was awaiting us.
With our bellies full, it was time to find the cat cafe. I must say that I'm not a cat person, although I love cats just as much . But my experience here only strengthened my resolve that dogs are much friendlier and we would have had a better time in a dog cafe.
Absolutely loved this warning sign.
However, I must admit that they were very well groomed and well mannered as Japanese people are. I'm not sure if such a cat cafe venture would work in Singapore, but according to Frenchy, they've started one in the UK (http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2290629/A-purrfect-place-unwind-Britains-cat-cafe-set-open-London.html)
So after my lacklustre experience with the cats, we decided to do something touristy - aka shopping and visiting Sunshine City! Here we went to the Aquarium and also an Observatory (which we later realised was a dating hotspot!).
Just some highlights of the shows that we managed to see. On the right here was the diver surrounded by a school of fish. It was like he had a gravitational pull (as he wasn't feeding them anything) and they simply followed him everywhere he went.
And below we have the view from the Observatory, overseeing Tokyo. The place was dark, quiet and strangely romantic, so the three of us felt extremely out of place.
As you can see, the portion was much smaller than that we had in the other places we ate. So, my advise is - if you're on a budget and you eat a lot, then avoid the shopping areas and city centres.
Visitors aren't allowed inside the palace grounds except for two days of the year - 24th Dec and 2nd January. So we could only take pictures from outside. The sun was bright that day and we saw lots of joggers having a run along the popular imperial palace route. It's like running to MBS in Singapore after work.
As I mentioned earlier, there was a certain sterility even amidst the beauty of this place. Perhaps it was the culture or just the fact that we were only allowed on the perimeter that enhanced my sense of distance from this place.
Moving on, we came upon the Statue of Kusunoki Masashige outside Tokyo's Imperial Palace. He was a 14th century samurai who is revered as a mark of Samurai loyalty.
On the board it read that those wishing to pray in the shrine had to wash their hands and mouth. It reminded me of the ablution that Muslims do before prayer and I think this idea of cleanliness and purifying oneself transcends religion truly. In all cultures, the sacred is often linked with purity an holiness and water is a vessel for the cleansing of the body as well as the spirit. 
I loved the firework-like shape of the trees.
Japan in spring was like a sharp twinge in your head after eating a sweet sour lemon tart. It was refreshing and a real eye-opening experience. The people were the most polite I've ever met; their transportation so efficient and the food? Simple and affordable (if you eat in the small little street shops).
We stayed at Ikebukuro in Tokyo which was not exactly a touristy place and for that we were rewarded with the pleasure of eating in cozy little street shops and actually watching people cycling to get to work; mothers shepherding their kids to school in the morning and such. Also, that meant that I got a lot of curious looks as I don't exactly look Chinese/South Korean/Japanese (the likes of which would blend in more easily). Travelling with a group of Chinese girls but rattling in English was also another source of curious looks.
Day 1
On our itinerary was a trip down to Tsukiji Fish Market. You can find more info here: http://www.japan-guide.com/e/e3021.html. But the place is stunning. We didn't make it early enough to see the tuna auction but by the time we reached the market was buzzing with life and not to mention fresh products.
Moving on, we decided that after a good meal, we deserved to walk a little so we ventured to Ueno, hoping to see some Sakura blossoms! And we did! We were actually really lucky as it was nearing the end of the sakura season and most of the trees had turned green by then.
Ueno park itself, is beautiful. It is at times like these that I wish Singapore wasn't so hot so it would be this enjoyable to stroll down the park and just admire nature's beauty.
Day 2
We started the day with no plan in mind. Our only aim was to find a cat cafe and eat street food. So, we walked around Ikebukuro, exploring the many shops and admiring the Japanese sense of fashion.
Eating in Japan was a funny experience. As you can see, we had to buy our food from a vending machine which issue us with coupons to be given to the cook. We were amused by this process and yet impressed by the efficiency. However, having everything on the screen in Japanese was difficult for me as I couldn't tell what was pork and what wasn't. I try not to consciously eat pork, so as much as possible I wanted to avoid it. Thankfully there were some similarities in the characters between Chinese and Japanese so my friends helped to select the food for me.
First meal of the day consisted of a beef bowl with poached egg and miso soup. It was really affordable as well at only 600yen (about $7). I realised that in Japan, the portions are really big and generous and we were really wondering how the Japanese women stayed so thin. Seriously. So we shameless had to admit that we were glutton for when we stepped out of the little Japanese shop, takoyaki was awaiting us.
Even cats (neko-chan in Japanese) have their own trains and sleeping carriages. They're spoilt rotten here and it's no wonder that they weren't too keen in letting strangers play with them as they know that they get lots of attention on a daily basis!
However, I must admit that they were very well groomed and well mannered as Japanese people are. I'm not sure if such a cat cafe venture would work in Singapore, but according to Frenchy, they've started one in the UK (http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2290629/A-purrfect-place-unwind-Britains-cat-cafe-set-open-London.html)
So after my lacklustre experience with the cats, we decided to do something touristy - aka shopping and visiting Sunshine City! Here we went to the Aquarium and also an Observatory (which we later realised was a dating hotspot!).
And below we have the view from the Observatory, overseeing Tokyo. The place was dark, quiet and strangely romantic, so the three of us felt extremely out of place.
But of course the night would not be done without food, so off we went to another small street shop to have dinner. Here we have a sort of hot-plate dish served with sticky Japanese rice. Happy!
Day 3
The last and final day started to dawn upon us with that "awww I don't wanna go home yet" feeling. I was starting to get used to the temperature, finally and wanted to see more of Japan. So of course I'll come back here again someday. Japan is absolutely safe to travel even on your own and I think I wouldn't mind going by myself or maybe with Frenchy the next time.
Tokyo Central Station
For the last day, we took the train to Tokyo Central, deposited our luggage in the lockers and began our little expedition into the Imperial Palace Grounds. But before that, of course we needed to fill our bellies. Tokyo however was different from Ikebukuro and offered no little street shops. Everything felt sterile and extremely ordered to me. So we had to settle for a small restaurant and the basement of one of the buildings.
As you can see, the portion was much smaller than that we had in the other places we ate. So, my advise is - if you're on a budget and you eat a lot, then avoid the shopping areas and city centres. 
Visitors aren't allowed inside the palace grounds except for two days of the year - 24th Dec and 2nd January. So we could only take pictures from outside. The sun was bright that day and we saw lots of joggers having a run along the popular imperial palace route. It's like running to MBS in Singapore after work.
As I mentioned earlier, there was a certain sterility even amidst the beauty of this place. Perhaps it was the culture or just the fact that we were only allowed on the perimeter that enhanced my sense of distance from this place.
Moving on, we came upon the Statue of Kusunoki Masashige outside Tokyo's Imperial Palace. He was a 14th century samurai who is revered as a mark of Samurai loyalty.
Next up, we headed to Shibuya, the 'hip' and 'trendy' part of Tokyo. And indeed, it reminded me so much of Orchard Road. Youngsters dressed in all sorts of fashion- some even in the lolita costumes were parading on the Takeshita streets, unjudged by their peers. However, I was not one for crowded streets but Shibuya was a must-see as recommended by a friend, so we proceeded.
However, shopping streets, akin to Bugis street were not something that appealed to me, so we decided to head to a Meiji Shrine nearby. And it seemed that we were just in time as we managed to see two wedding processions happening at the shrine itself! I must say that Japanese weddings are so sombre - no offence, but I initially thought it was a funeral. Nothing of the noise and chaos of a Malay wedding, but I guess rituals are often differently practised.
I loved the firework-like shape of the trees.
Soon after, we had to return to Tokyo Station in order to take the train and monorail to the airport. As we said goodbye to Japan, I was starting to wish for home. I guess at the end of the day, I still want my rendang and nasi lemak and of course Frenchy.
So the next few trips lined up are Bali, Rawa (Malaysia) and France/UK. Excited!
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