Connie

Here’s a problem none of us anticipated.

I am the eldest of 9 and I have four sisters who are now in their 70s, 3 in their 60s and 3 in their 50s.

We had great fun growing up; great fun as adults; and we remained close although we now have our own families and live in different parts of the world. Every other year we all meet for Christmas and we have great fun.

Our interactions often provide great material for comedy; memories clash and irritates; conversation often turns to aches and pains and visits to the doctor and the physiotherapists. And we offer great fodder for fun and gossip to the next generation of the family.

The problem is that we are all aging at the same time and having senior moments. This leads to quite a few arguments that challenges our relationships and memories!

Henry Nouwen is one of my favourite writers: a writer who I can relate to because his everyday struggles, about which he writes simply and without embarrassment is what we all ( I certainly do) struggle with.

Currently I am reading his “Sabbatical Journey: The Diary of His Final Year”.

Here’s a passage from the book that speaks to me and about a subject that I often think about.

Nouwen writes that:-

“I have come to discover that friendship is a real discipline. Nothing can be taken for granted, nothing happens automatically, nothing comes without concentrated effort. Friendship requires trust, patience, attentiveness, courage, repentance, forgiveness, celebration, and most of all faithfulness…

…In this respect, my struggle with prayer is not so different from my struggle with friendship. Both prayer and friendship need purification. They need to become less dependent on fleeting emotions and more rooted in lasting commitments. As I write this, it sounds very wise! But I know already that my body and soul might need an intense amount of discipline to catch up with my wisdom.”

I am a very tolerant person. I respect all races, all religions. Indeed I celebrate multi-culturalism. So I am rather disturbed by my own discomfort over the increasing number of foreigners in our midst. Why am I uncomfortable? Why am I irritated when I confront language difficulties with service staff? Why am I irritated by people speaking loudly into their mobiles in public transport in languages I am unfamiliar with? They are noisy. Try riding in a bus during the weekend! WHY INDEED have I become intolerant when I have grown up in a Singapore of many races.

This article is my way of finding the reason for my unease and the concern of other Singaporeans in this whole question of foreigners. I recall the recommendation we made in AWARE’s first population paper as a response to the government’s call for women to have more children: that one way to make up for the falling birth rate was to invite more immigrants. That was almost 23 years ago when our population was about 2.74 million. Now it is 5 million. Did we ever dream that there would be so many people in our small island.

I feel claustrophobic. I am being pushed around by a crowd of strangers I cannot identify with. That sense of claustrophobia is not only physical but also psychological. This feeling of being pushed around – the psychological – was an ever-present reality of our lives in Singapore with so many rules and laws and out-of-boundary markers that is part of our political culture. This is exacerbated by the ever-changing physical landscape. Some years ago I remember getting lost in the Paya Lebar/Serangoon area, the familiar haunts of my growing-up years. If you have been out of Singapore for any length of time it is easy to get lost. So many familiar landmarks are gone. The lifestyle survey by the Urban Redevelopment Authority , early this year, revealed that 73.2 per cent felt that the physical landscape in Singapore changes too quickly. Most felt that familiar places should be kept as they contribute strongly to their sense of belonging.

To forge a strong sense of identity citizens must be made to feel that their views and concerns are taken into account, that the process by which decisions are made on their behalf are transparent. Next they must have a stable sense of place. Remember too that almost 90 per cent of our population was rehoused in HDB flats in the last 30 years. When these requirements for a sense of self and place are shaky, citizens begin to feel alienated. In addition housing and the cost of housing are escalating beyond the reach of many young Singaporeans. Kiasusim is one of our defining characteristics and we are losing out in our own country. We are a nation of grumblers as a result.

So really the “Singapore Spirit” that the Prime Minister referred to in his National Day Rally speech is shaky at best. The surge in the numbers of foreigners is just the last straw. We couldn’t protest (we were too scared) about our political culture. We didn’t have much say in the way housing policies were implemented. Nobody listened to us when we protested against the demolition of iconic buildings such as the National Library building in Stamford Road. We have put up with so much.

–But foreigners and so many of them! The foreigners are wealthier. They are being feted and celebrated as foreign talents. Hey this is getting too much even for subservient Singaporeans.

My claustrophobia is psychic. I am in a diaspora in my own country.

I made my first visit to Colombo last week to find a city that has lost its shine through the years of ethnic violence. It survives like an old lady, once gracious and grand and now fallen on hard times. Its people divided; many of its citizens in refugee camps and prisons; its rich resources depleted; its beautiful coastline communities devastated by a tsunami ; its stately old buildings caught in a time warp and neglected.

Two cities, Colombo and Yangoon ( Rangoon), have been reduced from a glorious past to neglect, in my life time. In Yangoon, which I visited three years ago, the poverty is visible and its people longing for better times but pessimistic about their future. Both, Yangoon and Colombo, are capital cities of countries rich in history, culture and resources.

Colombo was the exciting city, definitely Asia’s most developed and affluent city during the 1940s and 50s, even through the 60s. It was then seen as a model of development for newly independent countries such as Singapore.

But now that ethnic tensions have eased somewhat Sri Lankans are beginning to feel more optimistic about the future and there is hope that the city will rise again and become the successful city and country that it once was.
Tourists are slowly returning attracted, as I am, by the natural beauty and rich history of the country. My earliest romantic imagination was stirred by visits of uncles from Colombo who like me in Singapore were a second generation of Indians to settle outside of India. Even as a child I was attracted to names such as Mt. Lavinia, Gall Face, Nuwara Eliya, Kandy, Anuradhapura, and Ratnapura – there was a romantic ring to them. It took me a long time to get there though. And then I had to regretfully forgo the long 6-hour drive to Kandy and Nuwara Eliya,– a concession I had to make to my aging back and bones!

During this my first visit I caught up with the next generation of relatives who continue to make Sri Lanka their home. I walked the promenade in front of Galle Face Hotel, watched a glorious sunset, had dinner and cocktails at “Sails” fronting the Ocean. I wandered the cobbled streets of the old part of the city, Pettah laid by the Dutch and took the long trip to the Fort of Galle, built by the Portugese in 1589. The Portugese-built fort was destroyed by the Dutch and rebuilt, surrounding it with massive walls that succeeded in keeping away the 2004 tsunami. In this enclosed city many of the buildings that the Dutch built still survive and continue to serve the community.

Bentota

On our way back and 64 Km from Colombo is the town of Bentota. Its special attraction for us was the Lighthouse Hotel, and the Bentota Beach Hotel both designed by the distinguished Sri Lankan architect Geoffrey Bawa. Here we stopped for lunch on the open terrace, facing a magnificent beach. And here finally I remembered to use my very neglected camera.

Not too far away is ‘Lunuganga’, Bawa’s home and garden, a retreat away from Colombo. The garden, lovingly created over a period for almost fifty years, transformed an ancient rubber estate into a green landscape of gentle slopes and valleys.

Water is an ever-present feature in his buildings either in the inner courtyards, or out in the open landscape. We wondered around the garden and the adjacent buildings, each a carefully balanced space of light and expansiveness which blends naturally into the landscape that surrounds it. The vast landscape and the lake and the islands beyond invites one to linger – which we did while we had afternoon tea on the veranda.

His town house, in contrast, (as it is described online) is an introspective assemblage of courtyards, verandas and loggias, created by knocking together four tiny bungalows. It is a haven of peace, in the middle of the city and now houses a boutique and a café. I, who am more used to the orderliness of Singapore, found a haven of peace and tranquility in this house and café. Lunuganga photo gallery

A Moonstone Mine

The taxi driver, who drove us to Galle, persuaded us to stop at a mine – a moon stone mine at Meetiyagoda and there I missed a photo opportunity which I now very much regret as I write this blog. For the mine turned out to be a hole, the size of a well, from which a man dug out earth and send it up in a bucket, winched up by two men. The earth was then washed and sieved of the fine soil and the rough gem hand picked- all very basic and primitive. Just five men in loin cloth operated the whole mine. The stones are then sent to a building nearby where it is cut, polished and set and transformed into jewelry. My souvenir of that visit is a pair of earrings! A photograph of the men at work would have told the story much better and would most certainly have been cheaper!

There were other highlights during my stay, which were unexpected. Stars, Salman Khan from Bollywood, staying in the same hotel and making the movie “Ready”, offered me the opportunity to witness a movie-making session.

After five days in Colombo I flew back to Chennai. In the flight I was surrounded by a group of young men who I took to be football players. They were young (everybody these days look young to me from my vantage), looked badly in need of a shave and sleep, nothing like the dashing, handsome men I see on TV. Because I discovered to my embarrassment that they were the triumphant Indian Cricket team returning to India from a successful tour.

But not being a fan of either movie stars or cricket the encounter didn’t excite me. Or could it be that youth and glamour no longer glitters nor excites?!

Somebody famous noted that the anticipation and the preparation for a holiday is more delightful than the holiday itself. I disagree. For me preparation is filled with anxiety about making arrangements to water the plants, pay the bills, cancel deliveries, secure the house, decide what to pack – not to over pack; not to under pack and so on and so on. My holiday truly begins when I have checked in at the airport and I am free of all the preparations and worries about overweight and missing the flight. I am then relaxed.
Mind you, in all my travels ( and i have done a few) I never once had forgotten something ( like leaving the lights on in the bathroom!) was never over weight and never forgot my tickets nor my passport.

So I just have to concede that for me anxiety and worries are part of the process of preparation for my holidays. I have just returned from one most delightful holiday. More about that in coming days….

Festivals are my favourite time of the year. They do come one after another. First the Hari Raya Puasa, then Deepavali, followed by Christmas and finally Christmas. I visited Little India the day after Deepavali with my friend Lilly, who to my amazement was visiting Little India and eating Dosai for the time in her life.

It always surprises me to learn that Singaporeans, living in this very small Island, with one of the richest multicultural mix of people, don’t extend themselves and exercise their natural curiosity about places and peoples and cultures.

I promised to write about my discussion with my groups of friends about our beliefs, our sense of who we are , our values and makes us happy.

My group had a lively discussion on the subject of identity.

I think the problem is that we can’t get away from our ‘roles’ ( mother, teacher, wife etc) But my own life experience tells me that roles are impermanent and not reliable guide in identifying the person we are. If we depend on our roles to define us we are in serious trouble.

But we can indeed define who we are by looking at, not what we do – ‘ the doing’ bit- against the ‘being’ bit of us which may be more fundamental to our being and which drives us to do what we ‘do’ ie. our roles. This was what we were heading towards at the end of the discussion.

So here goes my list:

women, individual, Indian (malayalee), educated, liberal, passionate, responsible, loving, caring, compassionate, non-conformist, anxious, fearful, self-critical, perfectionist, an underdog and defender of underdogs, spiritual and so on. Probably can think of more.

What makes us happy is also connected to our beliefs and our sense of who we are. So here is a random list of:-
What makes me Happy

• Having friends around and seeing them happy
• Spending time with my family
• Walking with a companion – on the beach, in a park surrounded by nature
• Having a glass of wine with friends/family
• Reading
• Listening to music
• Having quiet times
• Doing research?
• Watching a sunset/ a storm
• Driving down Mt. Pleasant on a sunny day
• When somebody smiles at me , recognizes me
• When somebody complements me
• When I write; when the writing is published
• Cooking breakfast for Grace, Mathew and William
• Shopping
• Helping young people esp. young people to enjoy what they do
• Having a slow, relaxing morning
• Reading the newspaper in bed and having my first cup of coffee
• Sitting in a quaint/cheery/friendly café with a friend or with friends and watching people
• Window shopping and looking at beautiful things
• Being surrounded by beautiful things
• Wearing nice clothes
• Watching romantic comedies
• Sharing nice things – food, holiday, a movie, a walk in the park, a meal or just sitting around with somebody I love

I was hugely relieved and very happy when I discovered a theologian who spoke to me and affirmed my experience of God.

So very briefly some thoughts on the subject of God.

God according to Nicholas Lash

(Nicholas Lash ( born 19340) was Norris-Hulse Professor of Divinity at Cambridge University)
(The following extract is based on the doctoral dissertation “The Doctrine of God According to Cornelius Ernst, Herbert Maccabe and Nicholas Lash” by Rev’d Dr. Sean Fernandez)

From the few, very few, theologians I have read up on, I find Nicholas Lash to be my kind of theologian. Christianity is, he says fundamentally a ‘way of life’ – A form of practical engagement with theoretical implications.

He believes that God is a description rather than a proper noun ( I like that). God is not a thing or a being of a particular kind. Thus to believe that God exists is to believe that there exists ‘something’ which has divine attributes.

How do we encounter God in human life? Lash tells us to consider certain common features of human experience – sometimes liminal experiences, but more often everyday experiences of love, joy, sorrow etc : Consider them as features of your experience.

What is, therefore, to believe in him? It is believing to love, in believing to delight, in believing to walk towards him, and be incorporated amongst the limbs or members of his body. Worshipping God is a relationship with God; it is also a friendship with God and friendship with God is also friendship between peoples.

God is as distant as he is close. Lash emphasizes that we cannot know what God is. But God gives form to his presence amongst the people in his demands for justice. It is in this world that God has given us the task of building true human community.

Values according to Suzy Welch in “10-10-10” allows us to live in sync with our authentic dreams, hopes and beliefs.

It has been a week since my fall and I am still confined to home and nursing a painful ankle and wrist. I can see myself thus confined for some weeks and it is in times like these that I am reminded of  the increasing vulnerability of aging, especially for people living alone.

Today is Sunday and I was angry and frustrated by my confined state. So I decided to get out, pain notwithstanding. Where could I go so I don’t feel socially isolated? I could go to Church – that didn’t come to mind as readily as Singaporean’s favourite outing – the Mall. I drove to Thomson Plaza, filled with Sunday morning shoppers, negotiated around people and shelves, without hurting myself even further. The outing did help – I did get rid of the feeling of isolation, helplessness and dependency.

Then I wondered about all those people with fewer resources and social net works! And I was reminded of a comment by Mother Theresa and here it is:

“In the developed countries there is a poverty of intimacy, a poverty of spirit, of loneliness, of lack of love. There is no greater sickness in the world today than that one”.

I wondered if Mother Theresa’s conclusion of the state of developed countries is the reason for the highest rate of suicides of older men in Singapore. I speculated about the demand for a mental hospital with the largest number of beds? Then I wondered why we as individuals, as friends, as mothers, fathers, daughters and sons, spend so much time on work!

I am also guilty of this. While I was busy with work I too had neglected my other needs ( the things I could have done to enable me to smell the roses and nurture my spirits/soul).

The phrase, eloquent and poignant, ” the poverty of spirit’ as used by Mother Theresa drives home the concept that the sense of  humanity -  concern for the human being in all of us ( nurturing our spirits) – should be an equally important concern as earning a living.

I had better do something quickly. According to statistics I could live another 20 years and I most certainly want to avoid the situation of going to a Shopping Mall for company!!

Maybe you should come to Perth and learn to live a quiet life and learn that you are no longer the centre of things, my sister said.

My term as president of AWARE was over and the trauma of the take over by a group of women who had a different goal for the organaisation was behind me. I  suffered from withdrawl symptoms for a while- from being intensely busy and preoccupied to  nothing to do. Most mornings I happily stayed in bed reading, with no feeling of rush to meet a deadline or a meeting. It was good to be able to do that. But there were days too of feeling unwanted and neglected. Hence my sister’s suggestion to go over to Perth.

I was having none of that. I was determined to stay right where I am and deal with my current reality and figure out what to do next. And yesterday morning I thought that I had figured it out. I was ready to make myself a schedule, of writing, reading,  exploring research opportunities, gym and socialising so that I don’t spend the day just daydreaming and reading and pottering around the house.

I went off to see a movie first though before I started working on a schedule. And what happened? I rushed out of the Dobhy Ghaut MRT station and on to the atrium in front of Plaza Singapura, missed a step and fell flat on the concrete floor, on my face. Everything happened so quickly. Before I could even figure  out what had happened a number of people came to my aid and helped me up. By the time i was helped up my left ankle had grown to the size of a tennis ball, my glasses had broken in the fall; I had hurt my right knee, my right shoulders and my left wrist.

I was angry with myself for not looking where I was going. But what surprised me was that I was relaxed, in a bit of shock I am sure, but felt no sense of embarrassment that I had fallen flat on my face in front a great number of people. It must have to do with the fact that as you age very few things cause embarrassment. And i told my sister “Well”, I said, ” I did it again. I was in the centre of things’!!

But then sitting here, propped up against a cushion, with my swollen foot raised, I am wondering what the universe was trying to tell me just when I was ready to take off and do something constructive with my life after a five-month haitus.

The scene was the newly upgraded and landscaped entrance of the MacRitchie Reservoir and I was enjoying the sun-drenched morning.

The sun  glistened through the freshly watered plants; the sunbirds flitted about, flying from one wet bush to another. The morning was fresh. The garden was lush, green, and delightful. Suddenly behind me I heard a loud clearing of the throat and just as quickly and loudly she spat the muck into the freshly-watered plants.

The magic of the moment was broken for me and it took me sometime to get rid of that act of ugliness from my mind.

Where ever you go, whatever the environment you will find an ugly Singaporean to remind us that a sense of civility is still a long way away!