moody meanderings

As I pondered one of my last journeys back to my home in the east, I saw her standing by herself on the platform and decided to wait at a different bay. I didn't want my progress onto the train to be hindered by her "seeing" cane. I persuaded myself that someone else would help her onto the train. The other commuters kept a clear distance from her, lost in their own home-bound reverie about getting a seat on the train.

I watched guiltily from the corner of my eye, willing someone to help her onto the train and into a seat. But they, like me, simply rushed on, heedless of her. I took in the many vacant seats and then at her standing by a handrail, holding on tightly, before making my way to her. I am ashamed to admit I considered my choices if even for a split second. Very gently, I cradled her elbow in mine and offered to take her to a seat. She thanked me profusely. By then, only one seat was left. She gratefully took it.

Two stations later, a space two seats away was vacated. I sat and debated taking my usual shut-eye but decided that having shown her to a seat, I needed to make sure she could find her way from it, though I was certain someone, this time, would step forward with a helping hand.

She got up as the train pulled up to North Point and held on to a handrail. It was clear she had some semblance of vision, enough to find the handrail. No one batted an eyelid. She looked like she knew where she was going but I decided to finish what I started. I asked if she wanted to get off at this stop. She said yes, please, and for a moment, looked disorientated. Cradling her elbow in mine once more, I escorted her off the train but not before an incoming female commuter kicked her cane nearly out of her hand while rushing for my seat. On her assurance that she could find her way from the platform, I returned to the train to find the female commuter had my seat.

Back in my seat two stops later, I wondered how many times I have shut my eyes while on the train, so that I might, in good conscience, be blissfully oblivious to the people in need? I dared not count.

I woke up this morning to a horrific nightmare: I was the target of a sniper assassin hired by one of my sisters! The assassin delivered two bullets to my head which caused me a mortal headache as I ran for cover. After much ducking and scrabbling, I found my sister and confronted her about the attack. She claimed that it was all a prank. I showed her the wounds and passed a metal detector (which, I happened to have handy) over my head to prove my claims of serious injury. All this time, the bullets are still lodged in my head, causing me no more harm than that royal headache I mentioned. She suggested that I have the bullets removed and quit my whining. At the thought of having the bullets surgically removed and possibly not waking up from the procedure, I swoon and wake up. The effects of a hangover can be so malicious on our dreams.


This is my last week in my present apartment. The packing is going excruciatingly slowly. I've only got as far as the crockery and plates. And even that bit of work has been undone tonight as I unearthed a pot from the bottom of the only packed box to heat up a bit of Taiwanese dumpling (yummmmm!) which my sister's colleague delivered this afternoon. By this time next week (I hope!), I will be a resident of the Central district with Lan Kwai Fong for a backyard. I don't particularly relish living where I work but you can't really complain about a convenience like that, can you?


Had a fantastic day out on the boat yesterday. Tai Long Wan (Big Wave Bay) has a gorgeous stretch of beach with soft, fine sand. We anchored off about three hundred metres from shore and swam to the beach for a bit of modest body surfing. Went to Coyote's after as we were to tired for Salsa. Ended up salsa-ing anyway as the band plays up some throbbing latin tunes. Nothing like a live band to dance to. One with a bass player in sarong, no less! Sarong boy had his eyes on me all night and when he did catch my attention, threw me a wink or two. Flirty! He even threw me a line which was just totally hilarious!

"That's a lovely perfume you've got on. What is it?"
"It's...er....Pleasure"
"Oh, it certainly smells like it"
HAHAHAHA!!!

I hear he's also a good deep-tissue massage therapist. I had a sample of it last night. The brief massage did some funky stuff to my very tight shoulders and caused some very sore muscles this morning.

Now, I should really go do some packing.

The Tropical Cyclone signal eight was lowered at eight fifteen this morning. The streets bore testimony to the storm's fury. Bits of branches and other debris littered the streets and pavements of Central. This is just a fraction of the damage done to the rest of the city which includes fallen trees and scaffolding. Still, damage was considerably mild compared to the destruction Imbudo wrought on the Philippines. The typhoon was more than two hundred kilometres from the city at its nearest.

This morning, I walked in to an empty office. I thought perhaps the signal eight warning had been re-issued. The sea and sky are still a dismal gray but gradually, people are walking in to resume the business week.

I hope the weather picks up by Saturday. I've got a boat outing planned.

Tropical Cyclone Imbudo is heading towards Hong Kong and looks set to wreak its worst havoc around midnight. All was calm in Central when I left at seven but the scene as I emerged from the train station at my stop was quite the opposite. Branches on trees were swaying violently in the driving rain, and gusty winds sent rain showering onto commuters taking shelter at the station. Fortunately, the rain reduced to a drizzle two minutes later as I made my way from the shopping mall to my apartment. I struggled against the strong winds as my umbrella threatened to close in on me. I got as far as the other side of the street before giving up on the umbrella, deciding it safer and faster getting home without. The short walk from the street to my apartment block took nearly twice as long to get to than usual. The narrow gap between two blocks forced the wind racing in directly from the harbour to whistle through at incredible speeds, making it nearly impossible to walk in a straight line.

Back home, my windows are shut and my door is rattling. Typhoon signal eight is expected within the next couple of hours. So begins my second typhoon experience in Hong Kong.

I received a most flattering email from a reader who stumbled upon my page while researching the web for "famous poets". How cool is that! I have to admit I succumbed to the vanity of searching Google myself with keywords like "famous poets" and "poetry" but my page didn't turn up. Haha!! Did I really think I was "famous poets" calibre? No, of course not. But somewhere in my web, I thought perhaps I had the two words inserted in a totally unrelated manner. Obviously not.

Serina has taken to Salsa in a big way. After her first foray into Salsa last Saturday, she was hankering for more. So to Regal we went again. I wasn't particularly keen. I didn't get asked to dance much last week. I was approaching all the men who once used to invite me to dance just a month ago but who have suddenly stopped asking. Ironically, I was told by one such man that he wasn't asking me to dance because I was "too good". And here I thought improving my dance would attract more invitation. So it was that the newcomer received many more invitations than I did, causing her feet to blister by the end of the evening. Fortunately for me, I had more dances last night than the week before. S, again, could not be found in her seat all night.

Tonight, we went to the studio for lessons. Makes me proud to see her try so hard at it.

Yesterday was my debut performance with the troupe. Two of us were new to the routine so we were rather nervous. Although, I must say I wasn't quite nervous in the usual sense of the word. I felt no nerves, no tummy somersaults or anything of the sort. There was a sense of calm which seemed out of place for a first show. I worried about falling off the stage, messing up the steps or having my bikini top fall off or ride up during the performance but there was no adrenaline rush at all. Maybe in some ways, it helped that we weren't fitted in the genie costumes which took away the import of the occasion somewhat. We were dressed in bikini tops and workout pants.

After an hour of warm-up exercises and running through the routine in the toilet, the five minute performance seemed to flash by instantaneously. For the first time since learning the routine just a month and a half ago, I didn't forget any part of it. Amazing!

My bikini top rode up about half an inch for adjusting it too tightly just ten minutes before the show. It was all I could do not to tug at it mid-way through the dance. But like I said, five minutes came and went in a flash and fortunately, modesty stayed intact.

The signed contract was delivered into my hands yesterday afternoon. Hooooray! Precious, precious piece of paper.

Someone asked me yesterday where my new flat was and I was trying to describe its location. With my hopeless sense of direction, I insisted that it was on another road than the one he assumed it was on. Only, there isn't another road where I thought there was. This morning, as I recalled that conversation, I looked behind me out the window and there it was! My new place is visible from the window behind my desk!

I still can't believe my luck. I'm trying to tamper my excitement so that I won't be too disappointed should anything go horribly wrong again. Faith is such a fragile thing.

I didn't mention this before because I was afraid to jinx it. After I signed the provisional agreement on that fateful flat, all I could think about was another flat that I was in love with. It was an old flat, very big and spacious and the landlord seemed willing to make the changes that I requested, major changes. So, I pursued it after I withdrew from the first agreement and made an appointment to view the flat with some friends for their unbiased opinion. I didn't trust myself after that debacle.

This morning, after speaking to the landlord's nephew who has been acting on his behalf re the flat, I got the impression that the landlord was not going to make the said changes afterall. I was right. He was planning only to make cosmetic changes to cabinets that were badly in need of upgrading.

Disheartened again, I turned once more to the SCMP Classifieds. And there it was. My flat. I viewed it with a friend at lunch time and knew in my gut the place was mine. Put in an offer below what I was willing to pay. They counter-offered an amount well within what I would have paid. Signed the agreement within hours and now I'm just waiting for the counter-signed copy. If this isn't divine intervention, I don't know what is. This is a huge load off my back.

After many tries, I finally got hold of BIL's sister, the real estate agent, yesterday morning at eight. I'm sure it was the last thing she was expecting to wake up to after we parted on Sunday night. She wanted to know if I was sure about my decision. I told her it was all I could think about the night before, and had cost me a sleepless night.She agreed to contact the landlord and call me back after.

One hour later, I was on the phone to her again. She hadn't called the landlord. Did I want more time to think about it? I reminded her that I spent the entire night thinking about it. I didn't need more time. I needed the landlord to know the situation immediately so that he could take the next offer that came along.

Another hour passed. I called BIL's sister again. She didn't pick up her mobile. I tried again. And again. Was she avoiding my call? I tried her office. She was there. But she hadn't made the call. She passed the phone to her manager. I repeated my decision and about my sleepless night. He offered to call the landlord and to call me back within half an hour.

Two hours and no phone call later, I called again. The landlord had been notified. He would meet us that evening to cancel the agreement.

He showed up with a man and woman whom he didn't care to introduce. I guess they were there to intimidate. I had my BIL's sister and her manager who served as translator. The formalities out of the way and the other agent paid, translator agent asked me if my cheque was "okay". Strange question, I thought.

"Is it 'OKAY''? What do you mean?"
"Is it something wrong with it?", BILS's manager elaborated.
I'm confused now. Where on earth is this question leading? "It's a brand new cheque book which was delivered just two weeks ago. What could be wrong with it?"
"The bank say the cheque cannot." The landlord declared.
"You're joking!!" I exclaim incredulously.
"The bank told landlord the cheque cannot work. Do you have enough money in the bank?"
"OF COURSE!!" I exclaimed again, this time indignantly.
"Maybe it is different branch, cannot work?" he suggested to the landlord.
"Or maybe it just hasn't cleared yet. What time did you deposit the cheque?"
The landlord looked uncertainly around the room and offered to check again. After punching a few keys on the phone, he declared, confidently this time, "No, don't have."
"What time did you deposit the cheque? It takes time to clear. Was it very early in the morning? If it was later, it won't clear today", I coaxed with unimaginable patience.
"No, I go to the bank. They say cannot."
"What do you mean? Did you try to cash the cheque?" He nodded in response.
"Oh, I see. You can't cash the cheque. It is a crossed cheque." I laughed.
"No, it wasn't." He looked confused and uncertain.
"Yes, it was. All my cheques are pre-crossed." I said smilingly.
"But there was no line." He persisted.
"Yes, there was but it is quite faint. All my cheques are crossed."
"Then it is invisible" His confusion clearly turning into defensiveness.
"I'm sorry. I should have told you before." I offer unecessarily.

"So, can I have the copies of the agreement so we can void it?....And yours, Mr Chow?"
BILS's manager directed his gaze as he asked, "Are you sure?" as he prepared to tear the agreement we'd just signed less than twenty-four hours before. I nodded as tears started to well up in my eyes.
"I'm so sorry for all the trouble", I say to the landlord. "Please give this to Victoria and Virginia. It is a beautiful book which tells a story about giving which I think would be nice for you to read as a family." I handed him the present I had picked out for them earlier that afternoon, The Giving Tree. He accepted it with thanks.

I left quickly, barely able to contain my tears. Tears of guilt. Tears of shame. Tears of relief. BIL and manager by my side, looking on with great concern. At the gate, I sat down to dry my tears and gather myself. The landlord's agent walked past us. She had a broad smile which she immediately hid when she recognised me at the gate. Then came the landlord and his bodyguards. I offered my final apology as he departed.

This evening, I received a call from Mrs Chow. Her elder daughter wanted to say 'thank you' to me for the present. My note to her read, "You have a beautiful voice. Thank you for singing for me last night. Follow your dreams." Mrs Chow wanted to offer her apology for any misunderstanding the presence of her husband's brother might have created. So, that's who his bodyguard was. She also wanted to know if there was anything she could do to help. I could have said, "yes, give me back my money" but didn't. She offered for me to go over to their place for a swim some day. I thanked her for the offer. She offered for us to meet up sometime for "tea". I thanked her for it. She offered for me to call her if I needed anything at all. I thought of the deposit but said "thank you" instead. She informed me that they have a new tenant. I said I was glad they found one quickly, more like immediately, I thought, and suffered no losses. She said, "yes" very quietly. We said our "goodbyes" and hung up.

I laughed. But my laughter sounded hollow and delirious. I am losing my faith in human kindness and compassion. Or should I say, I am struggling with my faith in human kindness and compassion. What happened to the kind and generous family who invited me to dinner with them on Sunday night? How quickly their generosity gave way to greed. My friends and colleague tell me I'm silly not to have cancelled the cheque when I could. Or asked for the money back. Afterall, Hong Kong courts favour the tenant if it ever got that far. But I will not betray my integrity for money. Love, perhaps. Never money.

Just realised after typing the last post that my liability is actually two months' rent, not one. That's a lot of money. A costly mistake. So hard to think clearly when the choices involve family. Regardless, I know I cannot go through with it. How can I live out the minimum tenancy period if I'm already thinking of ending the lease before its begun? I would be miserable for thirteen months. That's too many unhappy days.

I had hardly any sleep last night. Tossed and turned for hours. Put on some relaxing music which usually helps me through restless nights but I remained wide awake long past the last tune. I think I fell asleep nearly three and woke three hours later. Been unable to sleep since. I am desperately trying to contact my BIL's sister to cancel the agreement of last night before it is submitted to the authorities but can't get through her mobile. I need sleep.

I know it is silly but I do feel a need to cry right now. I saw an apartment with my BIL's sister which I kinda liked. It seemed a little small but I'd seen so many flats that night that I couldn't be sure. Tonight I viewed the apartment again, this time with the landlord and his family in tow. There were seven eager pairs of eyes waiting on me to commit to the deal. One pair belonging to my BIL's sister being the most eager. In my discomfort and eagerness to maintain cordial relations with "family", I signed on the dotted line despite my reservations about the size of the flat. The wardrobe is half the size of my present. The spare bedroom is two thirds. The living room looks a shade smaller as well. Now, as I study the floorplan, I'm convinced I won't be able to fit my belongings into the flat. And I'm beginning to wonder if I can bear to put any guest up in the spare bedroom if I myself would be claustrophobic in there. I am nearly in tears thinking about living out a year feeling this way. Yet, I'm afraid that having taken this step, turning back might sour family relations more than if I'd done it before putting pen to paper. Then again, if I backed out now, the agent still gets their commission as I would forfeit the one month deposit I paid today as a penalty for not completing the deal. Weighing out the consequences, I guess forfeiting a month's rent is better than spending the next year counting the days to when the lease runs out.

I could so use someone to talk to right now. I was relieved to see the person I wanted to talk come online just a few minutes ago. I was about to unburden my concerns and seek his opinion, or rather, gather his moral support when I discovered that it was his brother using his laptop instead. Had to choke everything back in. Now I must go to sleep and maybe have that cry to muster my courage to back out of the deal tomorrow morning. I have to do this for the sake of my sanity.

This time last year, I was flat hunting too. My sister's husband, on learning that I was looking to move, suggested that I contact his elder sister, a realty agent. This would be the same sister who failed to find me a flat when I was planning to move to Hong Kong. Out of consideration for my brother-in-law, I contacted his sister, who, incidentally, speaks a smattering of English.

Communication was labourious. I spoke in English. She responded in Cantonese. Often completely misunderstanding my question or comment, while I struggled to make out what she was saying with my smattering Cantonese. My exit came when she missed an appointment with me and got her sister to send her apologies after. Another agent won the business.

Last night, I met my agent to view a flat. Following behind him was an unsmiling woman whom I took to be the agent for the landlord. I couldn't be sure but I thought the woman looked like my brother-in-law's sister. I had not seen her since her failed attempts to find me a flat. I asked my agent if he knew her name but he didn't. When asked if she knew me, my BIL's sister, still unsmiling, said in Cantonese, "I've never met her before". I should probably have left it at that but I persisted, "I'm your brothers's sister-in-law." Slowly, a smile spread across her face. She remembered me though I'm positive she didn't remember my face. We chatted briefly while riding the elevator. She asked why I was moving again and what I was looking for. We saw the flat and I decided it wasn't suitable. We parted company as I proceeded to view the next flat with my agent.

This morning, I received a message to return a call to my BIL's younger sister. I was surprised it wasn't from the sister of last night calling to offer her services. My surprise did not last long. Elder sister called younger sister asking her to get me to contact her for her services. I obeyed. She had just one flat to show me. It took six tries before I got her to understand I wanted the address, two tries for the size of the bedrooms, three to find out if it was recently renovated. On top of that, she prattled on in Cantonese as if I should understand. It should be interesting to see how we get on tomorrow evening when I view the flat with her and her "doctor".


In unrelated news, I received this in an email from an American peeved that his country used strong-arm tactics to push through the sticky issue of bubble gum in Singapore. It read like a joke, so I checked. This story in the Straits Times Interactive corroborates the email.

Singapore swallows its pride over gum
By Edward Alden in Washington
Published: July 9 2003 5:00 | Last Updated: July 9 2003 5:00

Two months after signing their free trade agreement, the United States and Singapore have finally resolved the last sticking point in the deal: chewing gum.

At the insistence of Wrigley, the US gum-maker, the government of Singapore has opened the first significant hole in its decade-long ban on chewing gum.
Singapore, an island state of legendary cleanliness, banned all gum in 1992 to prevent spent wads from sticking to trains, buildings and pavements. But under pressure from the US during the trade talks last year, Singapore agreed to a "modest" easing of the ban. Gum would be allowed, but only when prescribed by a doctor or dentist for "therapeutic benefits".

That was not enough for Chicago-based Wrigley, the world's largest gum-maker. It insisted that its sugar-free gums be sold over the counter, and enlisted members of Congress to make the case, led by Phil Crane, chairman of the House Ways & Means trade sub-committee.

Chan Heng Chee, Singapore's ambassador to the US, said that "after a very serious and long process" of negotiation, the government's health officials had agreed that Wrigley's Orbit brand of sugar-free gums could be sold without a prescription. She said that three of the gum's ingredients, including the sweetener xylitol, were deemed to have "therapeutic benefits", although she acknowledged: "Frankly, I have no idea what they are."
Wrigley said gum helped to ease sore throats, clear sinuses and settle the stomach. While the company would prefer all its gum be sold freely in Singapore, it said, "you have to walk before you run".

It started with one tiny, seemingly harmless sneeze on the MTR on the way home from flat hunting last night. Then, a second followed and a third. By the time I got to bed at one in the morning, I had gone through several tissues and turned up a red nose. This morning, the skin on my nose was flaking off. Misery. I got home this afternoon thinking I'd be better off taking the four hour conference call from home. It didn't make a difference except perhaps my colleague who sits in front of me was grateful that I was no longer coughing and gagging into the back of his head.

So I skipped the first Oklahoma rehearsal tonight. Yes, I was selected into the chorus. Anyway, I took some anti-histamines and snuggled on and under some cushions expecting sleep to hit me in seconds. It did not come. It is almost ten now. I will try again. Hopefully, I don't wake at six.

Okay, so I knew he wasn't terribly interested or attracted to me, but I certainly never thought he was repulsed by me, enough to jump at my promise not to make any more sexual overtures!! Gawd, whatever was he thinking those times we were together! Sheesh!! I feel like such an idiot and of course I should as that's what I've been. If this doesn't cure me of my infatuation, NOTHING will.

But my day hasn't been all awful and for that, I am grateful. Serina, who left nearly a year ago for studies, has returned to Hong Kong and looks set to stay for at least two years. And this evening, I spent time with two friends separately -- one online, and one face-to-face -- just being a friend. It would have been so easy to feel sorry for myself and not given them the listening ear they needed but I didn't. I'm proud of myself, really. I know this sounds totally lame and self-congratulatory, but it really feels good to be able to put my own hurt aside and be present with a friend in need. Two friends!

I've been so irregular with blogging. My evenings have been so choc-a-bloc and now I've been accepted into the chorus of the upcoming Oklahoma musical, it is just going to be even crazier. Dance rehearsals are also getting more intense. Last Thursday, we practised for two and a half hours. This afternoon, we were at it for two hours. All in an effort to get us ready for an August 3 debut performance! Yikes!!! Too soon, I say. I'll be a genie some day...soon!

Just back from the best shopping trip ever! We shopped like Tai Tais and ate like royalties. The quality of Vietnamese handicraft is excellent and cost a tenth of what they're worth outside its borders. We ate at the finest restaurants every night and paid next to nothing for a gastronomic feast -- including a Japanese buffet at the Daewoo Hotel for USD14 and a Vietnamese meal at the famous Wild Rice restaurant for just USD8 each.

I'm completely exhausted now. I'll post more later. In the meantime, here are some pics from the trip. I didn't take too many shots as my hands were full from shopping. Didn't have time for sights.

View from our hotel room at the Sofitel Plaza



Joseph's Church at the heart of the city. It's funny how it isn't called "Saint Joseph's Church"



Padi fields stretch for kilometres just outside the city



Bat Trang Village where fine pottery is made. I just love the conical hats!



Pottery painting in progress at one of the shops in the village



Little village boys thrilled to be photographed