falling into grace

First off: I am SO sad that my holiday is over, especially after the week in Shanghai. I am so in holiday mode and I cannot believe I have to go back to work on monday. It just doesn't seem right.

Second off: I spent $1300 in HongKong (amogh: I can't even conceive of enough things to buy with that amount!) and approx 3500 yuan in Shanghai (thankfully most of it was relatives' angpaos), so I am really broke. Plus I forgot to give in my claim form before I left for HongKong, so I'm not gonna be seeing any money until the end of June from SPH. eeks.

My holidays were weirdly polarised. I love HongKong - the place. At first I was put off by the sheer amount of people, the bustly-hustle, the noise. But then I saw Shanghai, and realised really what was TOO much people, what was modernity without character, and came to appreciate the dustless and spit-less Singapore.

HongKong was really fun in the sense that there was always something more to explore... I think I had the most fun when I was alone that day - trying to navigate the thousands of MTR exits, speed-shopping with a vengeance, having that egg-pancake thing and dongnaicha from little roadside stalls, and just enjoying the ugliness of HongKong - single tall buildings crusted with dirt and adorned with laundry next to posh hotel-esque condominium blocks; the people - who at least say "sorry ah" when they bump into you on the train, and whose fasion sense is alien to mine, but at least not cringeworthy

There's a certain liberation in being faceless and totally alone in a huge city. Although it crossed my mind that I could have died there and then and no one would have noticed, it just felt good feeling totally lost and alien, feeling that I could turn the corner and end up in a totally different universe, that I would not run into anyone I didn't want to see, that all my troubles were farrrrr awaaaaaay..

Shanghai-wise, as my sister observed, the city really did develop faster than the people. Really primitive manners, frightening lack of social grace...and just uncouth and unpleasant.

In Shanghai I really wasn't that interested in sightseeing. She tried once to bring me to some ancient town, but someone pushed me, someone stepped on me, someone spat on me, and NO ONE said sorry. And so I was like - I'm outta here. haha

On that last night while I was having dinner with my sister's NTU friends at that cool si chuan ma la place, they asked me what sights of Shanghai I had seen, and were horrified to find that the answer was not much at all, that we had spent our time at buffets and getting manicures, and shopping.

But I couldn't explain to them that it had been an awesome 4 days. That I had so much fun just hanging out with my sister - going for facials, visiting relatives, on the night cruise around Shanghai Tan, shopping, and watching DVDs. We would meander down a certain street - ok I know the name ok: nanjing lu. I'm not TOTALLY useless - chatting, laughing.

Everytime someone asked if we were sisters - that singaporean couple at Golden Jaguar, the pedicurist, the pirated DVD seller - I felt kind of weirdly proud that they knew the answer before we replied, that somehow it felt like a relief that I resembled another person so detailedly, and the relief was that it was my sister that I resembled.

And when that singaporean lady at golden jaguar said "so lucky" after we affirmed her "sisters?" question, I knew she didn't mean just having someone to grow up with (although I did put forth the "only child" theory only to be shot down), but because she could tell we were sisters and friends..the best kind to be.

Of course she was pissed when I got the toilet wet; I was pissed when she wouldn't let me spend money as cavalierly as I wanted to - but the disagreements felt like water off a duck's back, it felt like things we've been arguing about since we could talk, and would be arguing about until we died. It felt inconsequential and unimportant, that is. It was the best holiday because I had the best company.

I am lucky..it took this trip to remind me just how.

Posted by chang! at 6:37 PM | Permalink | Comments

"Our greatest fear is not that we are inadequate; Our greatest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented and fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There's nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we're liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others."

Posted by chang! at 5:02 PM | Permalink | Comments

said Da, when I told her that I think it has.

Anyone who has known me for any length of time since primary school knows that I don't like children. Unlike other girls, I don't know how many children I would one day like to have (actually I did: none); I didn't fawn over cute babies on the mrt (they all looked the same to me); I didn't think of names to call my incipient offspring.

In fact, I found babies on the mrt loud and irritating and smelly; I though toddlers should not be allowed to walk by themselves if they're gonna get in your way; I couldn't summon the depth of feeling I felt for musky for pretty kids. I thought the surest way to heartbreak, disappointment, a lifetime of slogging, and possible marital breakdown, was kids.

I simply did not see what the fuss over babies and kids was about.

So it was the weirdest, most alien sensation that day on the train, when I felt myself unable to look away from this little girl who was with her dad on the train.

Maybe it was not the kid, but the dad that did it. He was this big, tanned, balding man. The kind with thick gold chains and gold teeth interspersed with coffee-stained ones. He had a big beer belly and would have looked more in place at a coffee shop with bottles of tiger beer in front of him shouting loudly in hokkien.

But he had his arm clutched around this little girl - she wasn't very pretty or anything, she had an unfortunate haircut and incipient buck teeth.

But the way he cradled her; the way he would occasionally pressed his cheek to the top of her head, shut his eyes and take a deep breath as if not being able to believe that she was real; the way he would pull down her little denim skirt demurely whenever she moved around, to stop her from flashing her diapers or whatever.

Now of course while watching, the thought "is he her father, or is this more of a Grimes thing?" did cross my mind.

But seeing the way she leaned back on his pot belly, and the way his hands, scarred and callous, were so gentle with her, I knew that they shared common DNA.

And it was in that moment that, in his eyes, I saw what it was like to love someone more than you can bear.

I saw what the fuss was all about.

Posted by chang! at 1:50 PM | Permalink | Comments