Thursday, 27th April '06

"Macaam I Do the Nation Some Harm, Like That"

(Yup, Ave, you can now tell me if I spelt the title wrongly.)

Alright. It's finally official. I'm coming home. Leaving Halifax on the 15th of May and arriving at home at 6:30am on the 17th of May. I'm actually taking Singapore Airlines all the way from Newark to Changi - which looks set to be more than a 24 hour ride. I have Henghwa's assurances that I will not die or get deep vein thrombosis, but it's still going to be a mother-long trip. If the person next to me is fat, smelly or both, I think I might just kill myself.

I have to pass through the US' shitty customs again. Damn.

It also means the stopovers in London to visit all the darlings in Cam, UCL, LSE, King's etc isn't going to work out. The financials compell me to take the cheapest ride home, and really, I should spend some time with the parents. Dad's pretty estatic that Singapore's markets have hit a bull run and wants me to go home to
(a) sit in front of the TV and flip the TELETEX with him,
(b) figure out a way to hook the iPod to the new Honda Civic (but I don't think he's about to let me drive it anytime soon,
(c) pick him out a plasma screen with which to watch the World Cup (and then I told him I know people who are going to see the live games and now he's jealous. Boys never do grow up.)

So I was like: what's wrong with the old TV? Why've you got to spend money on a PLASMA SCREEN? Money grow on trees is it?

And Dad said: watch football mah. World Cup; must have big screen.

Piang eh. No one in my house watches enough TV to make this worth it. But my Daddy's damn cute lah.

In other news, it's been great having the final exams of exchange over with, and just hanging out and chilling. Had a big "Singapore Day" yesterday, and met up with Vicki, Bryan, Alvin and Lingwei. And you know what happens when you put any group of Singaporean males together, don't you? They talk ARMY. And that's ok with me, I suppose, because National Service stories are the most hilarious things to come out of Singapore. Alvin was totally the best - you should have just observed how his English degenerated in 4 hours. Alvin, by the way, is a TRUE BLUE Ah Beng. The "last-time-got-join-secret-society" type. So when we first met up in Second Cup, it was all good, he was speaking proper English, all trained up from 2 years in Canada. There was even a little North American accent. A lunch and two scoops of gelato later, he was regaling us with stories of his army life as a storeman and in particular, the woes of having a Lee Kuan Yew scholar as his understudy:

"Wah liao eh, I this kind ah, get Lee Kuan Yew scholar come be my understudy. Dunno what kind of things also I teach him. Macaam I do the nation some harm like that. Kanina. We all everyday sit there play Pokimon only; then got things missing from the store right? Then we go other people side and kope. I dunno do two years dunno kope how much from who, man."

Or the things that the sneaky bastards do in the Army:

"Wah, eh, you want tricks I tell you we got better one. You go find the guy, the going to ORD already one, then you ask him come sign the form. Then you tell the Sir, say: Sir, this one gone already, I cannot catch back the equipment leh, how?"

Or the bad fashion sense they exercised:

"I working in store that time, I wear the Army shirt with the camo pants. And then at the bottom? Slipper. But my place there got one guy better one. He everyday wear full PT Kit. And at the bottom - wear army boot."

HOW COOL LAH. It was so strange but so refreshing to hear full blown Benglish in the middle of Halifax. Well. For me, anyway. Vicki was in shock, i think (you guys would know why). In any case we were howling with laughter all the way. At least no one used the word "Ociffer". I would have keeled over laughing and died from lack of oxygen.

The next thing I learnt is that getting one's hair coloured in Halifax is super cheap. I got a cut and colour (bleach, hot pink and blue) for CAN$64 (tax included). I was actually supposed to go a 10-foil special, but getting pally with the hairdresser always helps. I think she went a bit crazy, so I got even more than my money's worth. I love the hair people here - they actually LISTEN to me. The hairdressers in Singapore are so timid, they just keep telling me that the stuff I want to do isn't going to work. And they never dare to go mad with the layers. Maybe it's also because I can never fully express what I want in Chinese, and then they try to hoodwink me in jargon about "fruit acid" and "ozone treatments" that I really don't need.

And the last thing is that I may have to get into a full-fledged fight with my next door neighbour soon. She had about 8 drunk friends over again last night, and when I went to tell them to shut up (for the millionth time), I had a run in with one of her weasely-looking friends. The little fuckface called me a bitch when I wouldn't tell him my name and what I was doing tomorrow night. Now why the HELL would I want to do that?

I just don't UNDERSTAND these people.



en ying snapped a shot of life @ 12:42 pm
[3 photographs developed.]


3 photographs developed.

Ave:

Haha. Dare I say it?

...macam.

en:

heee... i can't spell in english even, how'd you expect me to spell in malay? big grin but thanks.

tzozen:

My sis spoke wonders of that SIA flight, she says it is very comfy! So don't worry. smile

You are so utterly right about the NS talk. When WY was here we met up with Kelv, Kez and Alvin -- they are all primary school GEP mates (frightening really) and they talked about... NS (but not in beng english). I didn't mind as I hadn't heard it for a while!





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