Torrential rain couldn't dampen our long-awaited Batam getaway. Typical of mostly all our escapes, the only item on our agenda was relaxation at all cost, and there was little to do but relax as the downpours on Days 1 and 2 kept us indoors.

I kicked off my vacation schedule nua-ing through a 3-hour spa session with a tiny but sturdily-built masseuse. As I relinquished my bathrobe to her, I knew I was in good hands... and good feet as she commenced her assault with a stroll along my legs and spine. That initial foray softened up the ground for a thorough ploughing using alternating hot and cold stones. Once I was sufficiently reduced to a compliant pastry dough, it was off to the steam room to stew, then a bubble bath after. I ended with a foot reflexology treatment that I barely felt as by then I had already shut down my higher order thinking and was operating on motor function alone.

There was only one thing left on my mind: me hungry...! Just like my travelling companions who so kindly waited for me to finish my treatment before proceeding to dinner. Dinner was part of our package: nine assorted dishes of fresh seafood and veggies served with rice. Hunger appeased at last, we hung out at the lounge where the lounge singer got friendly with us and got Mel, Ton-y, Amy, B-lo and NBS to each sing a duet with him in turn. The rest of us -- HP, Wayne and I -- didn't make it past the Lounge Idol auditions. :P

Day 2 was entirely memorable due to the massive amount of rain that fell the whole day. It was a good day for the rest to get their spa treatments done, so between shifts we entertained ourselves just hanging out in our villas chatting, watching TV (no cable!) and occasionally dozing off where we sat. So much for Wayne and Ton-y's ambitions for a banana boat ride, but even if the weather was good, few of us were enthused enough to muster the energy needed for that.

We reconvened as a group for another seafood dinner, this time at the Rezeki, apparently the next best seafood place in Batam to the "Golden Prawn" where we had planned to go at first, then decided was too far away. We rode in two cars to get there, weaving our way around the many potholes that gave the narrow streets their distinctive character. We ordered an assortment of shellfish, crustaceans, a sea-bass and broccoli (for Mel), all very fresh and remarkably economical after splitting the bill eight ways.

Day 2 ended with a raucous KTV session back at our resort. Most of the song selections qualified as 'elevator music', but what th' heck, it made for a silly two hours' worth of late evening entertainment.

Day 3 was the day Day 2 should have been. Gloriously bright, hot sunshine, which saw us frolicking in the resort pool for the better part of the day. Unfortunately, the tide was out at this time, dashing Wayne and Ton-y's banana boat hopes once and for all.

After check-out, there was little else to entertain ourselves with. Did a couple of hours browsing through the sole Mega Mall, spirits buoyed by A&W curly fries and root beer floats served in tall chilled glasses -- a rare treat for us. That, and the J.Co donuts that we both scoffed down and brought home as souvenirs of our latest escapade.

I think the most important thing we've learned is that we're not likely to kill each other on trips. As far as travelling companions go, you guys rock!

Batam

Just a few of our holiday snaps from an unnamed location in Batam. It's such a great little hideaway, with comfy beach front villas, decent food, warm, friendly staff, and a lovely spa staffed with confident, experienced masseuses.

While I'm too tired to do a proper review right now, check out what NBS has to say about it -- she was blogging on-site.

Day 2.

Day 3.

Officially on vacation! :D

Back soon!

It may be spring break week, but it feels nothing like a break just yet. Between rehearsals in the morning and KI "chats" in the afternoon -- and more of the same tomorrow -- it looks like I need a vacation to recover from my vacation.

Today's sessions, while necessary, have been quite fruitful as well. The more I work Pao Kun's awkward script with my cast, the more I can sense the movement, the timing and the rhythms that'll make this show tick. Problem is, I have so little rehearsal time left I fear it's only going to be half-baked by showtime. And in any case, I'm only using the spoken text as a counterpoint to the movement, like background music to a piece of choreography (in the loosest definition of the word), that our rather literal audience is in for a head-scratcher of a performance.

In terms of real calendar time, minus the two-week block test period coming up, I have only one week left to curtain. Internally, I'm panicking. Thank goodness for the short getaway beginning Wednesday that's coming up...

Wireless PowerPoint presenters are all the rage right now, with one staff member after another buying one of these handy little devices for themselves. They're fun to use in lectures as we can untether ourselves from our mouse or keyboard and interact eyeball-to-eyeball with our audience, or at least get as close as our microphone cord will let us, without having to run back and click a button every time we need to advance our slides. When I braved the crowds at the IT Show today, that was one item on my shopping list.

The Logitech one I had my eye on, unfortunately was not on display. But I found an iSmart one, a totally brand new model that looked a lot sleeker than any other I've seen before. It was slightly longer and fatter than a fountain pen with the control buttons all within easy reach of the thumb. It had the standard advance-back buttons, in-unit USB receiver storage, a laser pointer and a couple of additional features. It functioned as a remote mouse using an in-built joystick and it also had a 128Mb internal memory for storing ppt files so there's no need to lug around a separate portable hard drive unit.

A couple of quick phone calls later and I had two more orders (from Jane and Jon) to add to mine. And then it all went horribly wrong.

The first unit I tested worked fine, but the second, third and fourth units all refused to communicate with the demo tablet PC at all. No one could get the cursor to move with the remote joystick at all. What took the cake was when the increasingly flustered vendor tried out the fifth unit, the cursor on the OTHER demo laptop moved instead. By this time, June was tugging my sleeve and quite audibly suggesting that we "go have lunch first."

I'm curious to discover the cause of this unbelievable cascade failure. Since each remote has its unique receiver, could there have been some mix-up in the packing of the units? I kinda' felt bad for the vendor. While I'm quite used to experiencing such monumental embarrassments on a regular basis, most lesser mortals might actually take it to heart.

These things don't generally occur at a product fair like this, so there's only two explanations that I'll accept: 1) Murphy strikes again, and/or 2) gremlins. Shoulda' remembered to lock them up before I left the house this morning. Net result: no sale.

Tense, worried, anxious about the impending release of final exam results last night. Tonight, relieved that while unspectacular, my '07 batch met my projections for them with only one surprise -- someone fared much better than expected, though all credit goes to his own efforts at the eleventh hour.

Still, what's got me thinking tonight is that the resuls have been largely unspectacular. Not excellent, not amazing, not stupendous, just... adequate, good enough. These results are sufficient to get them over to the next level, though they aren't going to win anybody any scholarships. Should I be satisfied with that, or could I have pushed them harder to do better than they did?

In S'pore, is adequate ever good enough?

The class of '07 will be descending upon campus tomorrow for the expected reunion at which we will collectively view the fruit of their labours. May my D3s and E2s be happy with their results. As for my intrepid 6 pioneers, I sincerely hope that your courage and trailblazing efforts are well-rewarded, and that the experiment has gotten off on an encouraging start.

All the best for tomorrow!

Drama Night 08 -- Walls

Drama rehearsals are so much fun, I've almost forgotten. Here we are right at the developmental stages of NYeDC's new original piece, "Walls". While we're crediting Steph as the scriptwriter, it's the cast's own soul-baring, their own stories, and their own workshopping that Steph has woven together into a coherent package.

While Steph's pretty much in control over on this side, I'm panicking on my end. I really need to give my own cast The Talk. If I can have their full attention for just another six weeks, I just know they'll do the old Eunuch proud. In the meantime, I'm grateful for my core cast members who are giving their all, and they've been doing some nice work to date. But the rest of the cast, however... just gotta iron out our scheduling discrepancies. rawrr!

Edit 01:
While the stuff below this para deals with how news articles should be written, my old buddy, Cherry-Ann, has something to say about how journalists should ask questions. Check out his entry: http://journalism.sg/2008/03/02/the-other-casualty-of-the-great-escape-mainstream-media-credibility/
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I know I ought to let go and move on, but even though I'm no longer with NYconneX I still feel the itch to drop in now and then to contribute my occasional 2-cents. I do believe strongly that we have the potential here to create a training ground for students who aspire towards the profession of journalism. Ha! Easy for me to say -- I'm no journalist myself, just someone who writes junk on a blog.

There's a lot of learning that we can acquire just by doing, as I have had through the couple of years I spent editing for the campus 'paper. But without the wisdom of someone who has actually been in the business, the learning tends to be limited and myopic. So, if there are any NYconneX journos out there who are still reading this, here are some sharp insights from SPH's Mr Ngiam about the job. He touches on journalistic professionalism, and the free press and censorship -- issues that a person of his experience is better positioned to advise on than I.

If I was trying to be a serious 'citizen journalist' instead of just some random mad blogger, I would feel humbly chastised by his words.

Fact: schools operate on limited resources. It would simply be fantabulous if schools could offer every co-curricula activity (CCA) under the sun, from Aiki-do to Zookeeping, but how can a school apportion its annual budget to keep every activity functioning? Should it be fair and allocate an equivalent amount of cash to every CCA? That'll cater to lots of interests, of course, but a pie can only be sliced so thin before each slice becomes meaningless.

Every CCA has its demands: equipment, attire, and training, for example -- none of which comes cheap. And contrary to popular belief, even schools are not exempt from paying for such, despite our lofty purpose of Educating the Young. So yes, unfortunately schools are also subject to the laws of supply and demand when it comes to allocating resources.

It's simple economics. Supplies and resources get channeled to where demand is highest. How do we determine how much demand there is for a CCA? The question goes back to the students: how badly do you want it? Will you put yourselves on the line, train hard every day, learn the skills to improve yourselves one game at a time, and leave a legacy that will inspire your juniors to press on with your passion once you've advanced to a new division? These are the CCAs that deserve the support of the school which will gladly pay to keep such passion alive year after year. These are the types of CCAs that companies willingly sponsor because they embody the values that the sponsors wish to be associated with. Such CCAs never run out of resources.

What of the other students who may have the interest, but lack the will rise to the top of their game? Or those who just want to play "for fun" not for glory? To these students, honestly, what do they need the school's resources for? There's no point for the school to provide them with professional grade equipment and training if they're just looking forward to a private game of tiddlywinks after class. If they're not embarrassed, I would be.

If students really want to play for fun, they can buy their own cheap stuff, improvise their own play space, organize their own games and play till their hearts' content. That's fun. Nearly any activity can be had with the minimum of resources and a modicum of ingenuity without having to waste precious resources if fun is all you want out of it.

Some people think schools are like Santa Claus, happily distributing toys to all the good little boys and girls. Get real. School is limited, more like a toy box. It may contain great toys or crappy, broken toys, mostly a mix of both. And yet, it doesn't matter because whatever toy in whatever condition you pull out of the box, a real kid will still be able to have fun with it. Perhaps our kids have forgotten how to be kids?

The Yorkies of S'pore met once again after a long break of, uh, a few years. Think our old Alma Mater must have got worried and sent down Prof Gerry (3rd from left) to see if any of us were still alive down here.

Fortunately, not only were we alive, but we were also hungry. Tempt us with a bit of food and we'll come running, no questions asked. We descended upon the White Rose Cafe, York Hotel (where else?) for quite a decent high tea.

Joyce had pre-arranged to meet me and Cat here, and we got to make some new friends from among our junior Alumni as well.

There was no formal agenda apart from the eating and table-hopping. It was nice to talk to people again about how much the old campus has changed, how the weather is still as gorgeous as I remember (yes, -20 below has a certain charm to those who've survived through seasons of flaky skin and chapped lips), and how we would never have returned if we had found gainful employment there.

I could have been part of the brain drain, I admit, but then if I didn't go in the first place, I may not even have discovered I had a brain to drain. Um, I do, don't I?

It's our society's own fault that people put off having kids till "later". Biologically, we are quite capable of reproducing in our teenage years, but society tells us that we aren't ready then. We're not (psychologically) mature enough, not financially secure enough, not socially stratified enough to bring a new life into the world, and we believe it. In fact, so many of us believe it so strongly that we still believe it well past our 40s when the peak our our hill looms just an Ollie away. We're not ready, we haven't got the money, we still have dreams we want to pursue that will presumably get us out of this social rut we're in before Baby ("Wah! Wah!", not "ooh, baby...!") ties us down irrevocably, once and for all.

It's society's rules that we have to get an education, get a job, get a mortgage, get insurance, pay taxes and do our part as a consumer of resources before we're considered responsible enough to bring forth offspring. If we strictly follow these rules, we'll never get to spawn at all as we'll never have enough personal security to know when we have met the prerequisites.

No wonder teens act up the way they do. They are physically mature but society keeps them immature with a brick wall comprising rules, norms and expectations that stands in their path. The collision is seldom pretty. Teens wonder why their parents/teachers/authority figures are so stupid; their parents et al, wonder what past sins they are being punished for. What a mess.


Which is why Juno is such a fortunate pregnant teen. Her friends and family take her shocking news with stoic resignation, then put their full support behind her decision to carry her baby to term. Instead of seeing the situation as the end of the world, they see more excitement in the potential for new life.

Despite the mistake she has made with her social timing, Juno is never alone in her predicament, nor made to feel guilty about keeping her baby even though she is still attending school. While she still gets stares from strangers and schoolmates who make fun of her, the people that matter to her continue to shower her with love and encouragement, making her burden just that little easier to bear.

Teenage pregnancy is no laughing matter, no matter the light treatment the movie gives it. Prevention is still better than cure, but if regardless of our best efforts as caregivers and it happens, it would be wonderful if the family just deals with the situation instead of making it worse through blame and recrimination.

Ultimately, it's Juno's courage, her commitment to do the right thing, her strength of character and her intelligence that salvages a bad situation and make it work for the greater good. Juno's a lovely character and a totally watchable movie if just a touch idealistic.

It's Chinese Drama Night on campus again. Tonight's performance of the White Cloud Gang was for the first time a feature-length production rather than the usual double or triple bill.

The plot involves a cursed Chinese hairpin imbued with unholy power by a vengeful butterfly spirit bent on bringing down a dynastic kingdom over the emperor's indiscretions with her. The curse is so potent and so transcendant across time and space that disaster befalls the present-day family and friends of a teenaged girl who happens to find the ancient hairpin while on a camping trip.

It really is thanks to Amy that I've got the plot figured out this far. With the absence of in-house subtitles, Amy kept a running translation of dialogue and situation for me so I wouldn't feel too far behind.

A couple of observations: performers seemed very anxious to leave the stage -- before the scene has had time to build, it was over as there was no one left onstage to engage the situation. As a result, the occurrences and encounters offstage often appeared more interesting than what was happening onstage. Too bad all the characters tended to be so conflict averse. Lots of spicy details could have come out if the characters had interacted with one another more, but everyone was just too much in a hurry to leave in a huff instead.

Also, too many unnecessary scene changes in long blackouts. There were fewer and faster blackouts this year, but still... The kids who write these scripts tend to write as though they are producing TV drama in which a quick cut can warp time and space in an instant. This convention does not work for theatre with a 'live' audience, obviously.

Wonder what people are going to think of our Eunuch Admiral play in April? Chances are, the audience will be just as confused.

Baggy's leaving on a two year vacation, following her hubby's latest job posting. Her bags are packed and she's almost ready to go live the life of a Sydneysider taitai (lady of leisure).

Boss ladies, Cynth, Jo and Amy sponsored the Bon Voyage cake to conclude our department meeting (left).

Now that Baggy's gone, I believe I'm the last one left of the staff that fell off the turnip truck arrived on campus that January of 2000, so long ago. So many have left already, and I am aware that there will be more to follow. The pond is starting to look emptier and emptier. It's occasions like these that remind me that this is a workplace after all.

Still, amongst friends, a small group of us -- who could spare the time -- took Baggy out for a farewell chix rice lunch. Even Vays dropped back in from maternity to join us.

The pix (left) was supposed to be the beginning of a longer series of farewell lunch pix, but I was thinking of my stomach first as usual, and carelessly left my cam in M2 while we ate. Duh.

Oh, well. Bye, bye, Baggy!

Got family in England riding out the big quake. The following is a mass email from our Mancurian colony, basically telling family here that everyone's still ok, not to worry:

"I thought you would like to know that it lasted for awhile, was 5.2 on the Richter scale and it felt like there was an elephant under the bed. I thought the cats were having a fight on the bed and almost shouted at them until Dan said it was probably an earthquake. The house then spent the next half an hour settling down, with much creaking and groaning of pipes. The in-laws, who were pretty much near the epicentre of the quake slept through the thing... I ask you? Poppy is convinced that the trampoline has walked off the patio onto the surrounding gravel...hmmm. Ok. end of excitement. Now I need some sleep."

Good idea.

Meantime, despite the number of nasty shocks Indonesia's had in the last few weeks and predictions of the "big one" yet to come, CalTech quake expert, Prof K Sieh, assures us that 'tectonically, Singapore's possibly one of the safest places on Earth.'

Good to know.

Matters of the heart are clear-cut and simple for the S'pore male, if what we read in the Sunday Times is true. How does a S'pore guy know when a S'pore gal likes him? He gets the privilege of paying for her meals, opening her doors, and carrying her handbags and shopping bags. If he's really lucky, he even gets to see where she lives when he deposits her at her front door after being entertaining, charming and generous with her during their romantic date.

It's also equally clear that when S'pore gal goes out of her way to make S'pore guy feel special, to cater to what the guy really wants without him having to work too hard for it, and even allow him to entertain the illusion that he might actually be interesting, witty and desirable, the warning bells of our more aware males clang with the intensity of a paranoiac Peter Parker's spider sense. If it's too good to be true, it probably is. Beware the "honey trap", set by the real girlfriend, baited by a fraud.

Whether the guy passes the "honey trap" test or not, the result is pretty much the same. The relationship has come to an end. If the sting is successful, she gains sufficient evidence to prove that the split was not her idea. If unsuccessful, it's still a clear signal to him that she doesn't want him to carry her stuff, open her doors and drop her off at home any more. Think of it as the ultimate going-away pressie: after he has spent so much on the dating, it's only fair that she spends an equivalent amount on the break-up.

It's unsurprising then that good ol' boy, Edison Chen, wants to quit showbiz in HK. It'll be so much more lucrative conducting dating motivational workshops for the hapless S'pore male. :P

Propaganda doesn't look like propaganda if you present it as a hilarious satire. In the DS Dollies' History of S'pore, few sacred cows survive intact by the end of the show. Every S'porean's pet peeves get some air time -- en bloc woes, personal taxation, parking enforcement, neighbourly relations, even the issue of ministers' salaries, all dressed in an amazing variety of colourful costumes, set to catchy beats and slick dance numbers, and slain upon the altar of uproarious, raunchy comedy.

The DS Dollies themselves are wonderfully energetic and versatile with their characters. With quick-change costumes and accents, they play a roughly chronogical series of vignettes involving a multitude of our favourite historical working-class stereotypes (and the occasional world leader). From pirates of the high seas, to the women entrepreneurs of the leisure and entertainment industry, to the samsui women, to the colour-blind kampong aunties, we get the sense that our current concerns are nothing new. Like we do today, our predecessors too could have faced rising costs, unsympathetic public officials, unequal income distribution between the leadership in comparison with everyone else.

As the sacred cows fall one by one, oddly enough we discover that it isn't unpatriotic to air our worries in public, or to laugh and poke fun at ourselves and our foibles. By the end of the show, we audience members are singing along with the Dollies' renditions of national songs, many of us waving our national flags (they handed each of us one during the interval) in time with the music. Despite our grouses about life in S'pore, we are still proud to be S'poreans.

But most of all, we're proud that even growing up in "straitlaced" S'pore, there's still enough homegrown talent to create the music, dance and comedy that make the DS Dollies franchise such a success.

Went to Kum Kum's wake a day later than my fellows had planned. June was busy and I did not wish to meet my long-lost school chums unaccompanied.

After all these years, apart from the moustache he sports, he didn't look all that different from the guy who sat behind me in our last two years of secondary school. Our inquiry revealed that he'd been battling liver cancer for a year already and had finally succumbed.

Guess he wasn't particularly inspired by our nickname for him, so for his official fighter jock callsign he answered to 'Mongol'.

So, to the 'Mongol' whose dreams of flying became reality in life, now the sky's no limit.

Took 12 J2s to the big general knowledge quiz at the national uni. There was a record-breaking number of teams participating this year with more institutions fielding more teams. The teams sat through the preliminary round in which each member had to complete a pencil-and-paper multiple-choice quiz comprising 50 questions. The top three teams with the highest team totals went on to entertain everyone else in the final round held in the afternoon.

The finals was vastly more entertaining than the preliminaries. The three teams representing AC, JJ and R, had to answer time-limited questions in three separate rounds. The first was a multiple-choice with no penalty for wrong answers. The second was a true-false with penalties for wrong answers. The third and last round was a Jeopardy-like game with opportunities to double points for correct answers, be penalized for wrong answers, and to shunt questions to a rival team hoping they don't answer correctly and threrby lose points accordingly.

Arch-rivals, AC and R kept 'sabo-ing' each other, leaving JJ virtually unscathed through the final round. In their all or nothing game, AC emerged victorious while R came off worst. JJ happily accepted second place, though not to take anything away from their performance as they answered their questions correctly when it counted.

Wonder if we could run a similar contest on campus among the CTs? It could make for a fun and educational Assembly session.

Bowling alleys. How hard can it be to find one to train in during the late afternoon/early evening hours? Yishun SAFRA fully booked for school tournament. CSC fully booked for school training. Star Bowl closed for a complete overhaul, reopening in July or thereabouts. My last resort was Marine Bowl, ECP, which had some vacant lanes at last.

Marine Bowl boasts the most basic of electronic scoring systems. The pin sweeper is wobbly and the setter occasionally loses a pin on the second roll. The lanes are narrower and shorter than any I've ever bowled in. But because the pins are packed a little more tightly together, it's a great place to rack up some easy strikes.

Bowling here can be quite an ego boost as the pins go down quite easily as long as the ball stays roughly on course down centre. Check out the scores of my three game series: 148, 212, 159. Now, that's a forgiving lane!