Sinfonia da Vita, Op. 1
Friday, April 30, 2004
--- II ---
Coming back from camp today I learn that there has been another construction-related accident at some place near the AYE.
Apparently thousands of steel beams collapsed at the Fusionpolis construction site, again killing people.
In the evening, my mother warns me not to go to the area around Arab Street, because cracks have been found on the shop houses there. In other words, they can collapse anytime.
What if we say all the buildings in Singapore collapse? We’ll become another Hiroshima and Nagasaki without the atomic bomb, or a San Francisco and Kobe without an earthquake.
Today, while standing at the traffic junction outside the Paya Lebar MRT Station, two huge dump trucks rush past me at high speed. As they bounce over the centre of the junction, I feel the tremors coming from the ground. One rumble for each truck.
Scary, isn’t it? Especially if you’ve watched that movie where there were huge gaping holes in the earth under the city, causing the ground to be unsupported and collapse upon the weight of its structures and citizens above. ¶ 4/30/2004 11:53:00 pm 0 comments
Coming back from camp today I learn that there has been another construction-related accident at some place near the AYE.
Apparently thousands of steel beams collapsed at the Fusionpolis construction site, again killing people.
In the evening, my mother warns me not to go to the area around Arab Street, because cracks have been found on the shop houses there. In other words, they can collapse anytime.
What if we say all the buildings in Singapore collapse? We’ll become another Hiroshima and Nagasaki without the atomic bomb, or a San Francisco and Kobe without an earthquake.
Today, while standing at the traffic junction outside the Paya Lebar MRT Station, two huge dump trucks rush past me at high speed. As they bounce over the centre of the junction, I feel the tremors coming from the ground. One rumble for each truck.
Scary, isn’t it? Especially if you’ve watched that movie where there were huge gaping holes in the earth under the city, causing the ground to be unsupported and collapse upon the weight of its structures and citizens above. ¶ 4/30/2004 11:53:00 pm 0 comments
--- I ---
Imagine how two fifty-dollar notes can give you a very bad day.
Tonight is the first section outing, and I ponder the possibility of going to the Army Supply Market at Beach Road to buy the items that I need for my field camp, as well as other stuff that my section mates also requested out of convenience.
All goes well at the usual store that I go to. That is, until the boss wraps everything up and calculates the total cost and I reach for the wallet.
Where are the two fifty-dollar notes?
I remember coming home from camp in the afternoon, and spotting these two pieces of money on the basket where I keep my camp items during the weekend at home. I pick up the notes, look at them, and stupidly replaced them into their original places instead of putting them straight into my wallet.
And now my wallet has about $12.
The items from the store cost $41 in total.
I become very anxious. “Uncle, I don’t have sufficient money.”
He gives me the kind of look like: “What the fuck are you doing?” “There’s an ATM at the corner over there.”
“The problem is, I don’t have an ATM card.” My mother has been keeping my ATM card and never letting me use it.
I quickly try to remedy the situation. I try to look as if I have everything under my control. “Uncle, tell you what, how about I leave these things here at your shop for safekeeping, while I go home and get my money, then return later?”
He is fine with it.
So I run out to Beach Road to hail a taxi. Friday night is a terrifically bad time to hail taxis, because all those that I see are all booked.
Suddenly one taxi draws up to the kerb near where I am standing. A light is turned on inside the vehicle. I presume the passenger is going to alight.
No.
She is sleeping soundly. The taxi driver looks at me sheepishly; then turns to towards her; then looks at me, and back at her again. The exasperated man then picks up a small feather duster and uses the handle to tap her lightly. That’s the problem when you have sleeping women in your car. You have to use as little force as possible so that she doesn’t end up screaming bloody murder at you or charging you for outrage of modesty. And to use just a bit of force equates to ineffectiveness.
Now I am also getting exasperated. I walk up to the back passenger seat window, and lightly tap on the window pane in the hope that she will wake up, get the hell out of the cab and I can board it. Bloody hell, I’m in a rush.
Finally she wakes up. No, she is not alighting yet. She tells the taxi driver to drive further down the road. At the same time she drives me crazy with rage. People should never sleep in taxis. The seatbelts should be electrified to provide a low voltage jolt to passengers who doze off. So what if they can pay for their fare? It is inconsiderate to the driver and the next passenger, because the driver has to drive around aimlessly, and to the next passenger the sleeping fellow is hogging the cab for his own comforts.
LESSON LEARNT: Always check your wallet to see if you have sufficient money. ¶ 4/30/2004 11:51:00 pm 0 comments
Imagine how two fifty-dollar notes can give you a very bad day.
Tonight is the first section outing, and I ponder the possibility of going to the Army Supply Market at Beach Road to buy the items that I need for my field camp, as well as other stuff that my section mates also requested out of convenience.
All goes well at the usual store that I go to. That is, until the boss wraps everything up and calculates the total cost and I reach for the wallet.
Where are the two fifty-dollar notes?
I remember coming home from camp in the afternoon, and spotting these two pieces of money on the basket where I keep my camp items during the weekend at home. I pick up the notes, look at them, and stupidly replaced them into their original places instead of putting them straight into my wallet.
And now my wallet has about $12.
The items from the store cost $41 in total.
I become very anxious. “Uncle, I don’t have sufficient money.”
He gives me the kind of look like: “What the fuck are you doing?” “There’s an ATM at the corner over there.”
“The problem is, I don’t have an ATM card.” My mother has been keeping my ATM card and never letting me use it.
I quickly try to remedy the situation. I try to look as if I have everything under my control. “Uncle, tell you what, how about I leave these things here at your shop for safekeeping, while I go home and get my money, then return later?”
He is fine with it.
So I run out to Beach Road to hail a taxi. Friday night is a terrifically bad time to hail taxis, because all those that I see are all booked.
Suddenly one taxi draws up to the kerb near where I am standing. A light is turned on inside the vehicle. I presume the passenger is going to alight.
No.
She is sleeping soundly. The taxi driver looks at me sheepishly; then turns to towards her; then looks at me, and back at her again. The exasperated man then picks up a small feather duster and uses the handle to tap her lightly. That’s the problem when you have sleeping women in your car. You have to use as little force as possible so that she doesn’t end up screaming bloody murder at you or charging you for outrage of modesty. And to use just a bit of force equates to ineffectiveness.
Now I am also getting exasperated. I walk up to the back passenger seat window, and lightly tap on the window pane in the hope that she will wake up, get the hell out of the cab and I can board it. Bloody hell, I’m in a rush.
Finally she wakes up. No, she is not alighting yet. She tells the taxi driver to drive further down the road. At the same time she drives me crazy with rage. People should never sleep in taxis. The seatbelts should be electrified to provide a low voltage jolt to passengers who doze off. So what if they can pay for their fare? It is inconsiderate to the driver and the next passenger, because the driver has to drive around aimlessly, and to the next passenger the sleeping fellow is hogging the cab for his own comforts.
LESSON LEARNT: Always check your wallet to see if you have sufficient money. ¶ 4/30/2004 11:51:00 pm 0 comments
Sunday, April 18, 2004
