Selina Lin (林秀惠), founder & owner of La Meme Histories (旧事书坊) gave me my first Taiwanese Tea when I visited her bookshop at Houpu (后浦) city, on Kinmen Island. My grandmother was born there.
Last September, a packet of Taiwanese Tea was given to me at our first meeting with Selina Lin, who keeps a lovely bookshop called 旧事书坊 (La Meme Histories) in the old city of Houpu on Kinmen Island, where my grandmother was born.
Selina bidding me goodbye last September. I was making sure the packet of tea was properly kept. Above me was one of the many red lanterns that had “Houpu” 后浦 written on it. Who knows? My grandma could have walked on the very spot I was standing on.
I didn’t use the tea leaves soon after I got back to Singapore because firstly I didn’t own a tea pot and secondly such a present deserves an occasion.
A few days ago I bought a glass tea pot from IKEA.
Today Krison dropped by my home with tea snacks from Joo Chiat. There were savoury “soon kueh” (turnip & bamboo dumpling) and “png kueh” (glutinous rice dumpling), as well as Malayan sweets of “ondeh ondeh,” “lapis sagu” & “kuih seri muka,” all full of palm sugar and coconut goodness.
Krison boiled water and brewed the Taiwanese Tea, while I got the mostly Daiso crockery ready. I believe Queen Elizabeth 2 would have approved of our old school gestures of tea serving even though her tea & crumpets are served on silverware & Wedgwood china.
Facing the flowers of the red radishes, we savoured our local snacks and sipped the Taiwanese Tea slowly, as our hunger eased while our senses relaxed and came alive from the warmth & aroma of the beverage.
The tea had a sweet milky aftertaste, although no sugar was added to it. It also didn’t turn tart after successive brews or when its temperature dropped.
Then the wind rose, lifting the windhorse prayer flags hanging outside the sparkling windows and scattering tiny petals of pink and white on our “tea set.”
Pink & White 4-petalled blossoms from Red Radish 1 (Revival) & Red Radish 2 (Numen).
It felt like a miniature Hanami (sakura viewing season) moment was taking place right in the living room of a Singapore flat.
At each unit where the windows were left opened by absent owners, the workers doing the block washing used a metal rod to push shut the window panels before they started directing jets of water to remove dust & dirt.
The worker uses a pole to shut windows that had been left opened.
Jets of water to flush out dirt and algae from walls & window panels.
When they reached my unit, my windows were all shut. But still, one of them gestured if I wanted to remove the windhorse prayer flags hanging outside.
I gave the worker a thumbs up so that he could proceed with the cleaning while the prayer flags remained hanging. I could tell he was careful not to direct the jets directly at the windhorses.
I gave him the thumbs up to show that he could carry on.
He cleaned well, leaving the glass surface outside sparkling and the prayer flags dust free, while receiving the windhorse blessings.
Dust came off the prayer flags.
Outside the windows of the cats’ room, the thunderous roar of water upon impact with concrete and glass frightened Hakim and his siblings. They huddled pitifully at the door, wanting to be let out as far away from the strangers outside their windows as possible.
I waited till the workers had moved onto a few units below before I let the cats out to play in the living room to release their stress.
As a compensation for their 2 minute trauma while their windows were being washed, the cats had their early dinner of tuna.
Helmets and some wraps around the face were the protective gear they had on. The nature of their cleaning tasks and the height they are on probably need them to dress as lightly as possible so that they can move easily in the cramped gondola.
Finally a sweet offering was made to give thanks for the workers’ continued safety and good health, as they carry on purifying our living spaces.
May these workers have a sweet life while they go about making ours sweet. 🙏
Thanksgiving Offering of sweets while the blooms of red radish plant adorned Ganesha’s head.Giving thanks for the ones who laboured and took risk in the hot sun and gusty winds to give me sparkling windows, clean walls & dust free prayer flags. May their life be full of sweetness.
The ritual dish that binds me to my ancestors – sweet potato porridge.
Today I cooked sweet potato porridge in memory of my Kinmenese grandmother.
Where she came from, the soil was not conducive to rice farming, but good for growing sweet potato, yam(taro) and groundnut.
Adding sweet potato to rice porridge created bulk that filled the tummy. It also sweetened the plain porridge, and augmented the aroma of cooked rice.But most of all, it kept big families with little money from going hungry.
The only picture we have with our Kinmenese grandmother. This was in our first HDB flat in the 70s, where the refrigerator occupied pride of place in the living room. 😊
Each day after school, we would come home to my grandmother’s sweet potato porridge. Whatever meat side dishes were reserved for the evening meal when everyone was home. For lunch, my brother and I were happy with fried eggs and fermented bean curds or braised groundnuts to go with our porridge.
I can still see my brother in my mind – crew cut and bare torsoed in his primary school maroon shorts fanning his piping hot porridge with his exercise book impatiently.
Braised groundnuts and fermented bean curd.
Sometimes on a hot day, a watery bowl of rice porridge with sweet potato bits in it was all the nourishment I needed.
Over the years I’ve seen the humble sweet potato porridge listed in restaurants and hotel eateries. Many people who have the means to order far more superior staples on the menu gush over the sweet potato porridge.
Like some ritual food that binds a people to their cultural origins, the sweet potato porridge is more than a comfort food to me.
It reminds me of the generosity & ingenuity of Providence, and the faith of our forefathers that life would improve despite being confronted with evidence of scarcity & uncertainties everywhere.
If people before us could survive on such humble food and open up so many opportunities for others, our generation will definitely do better.
Flowers from Red Radish 2 (Numen) blessing Sweet Potato Porridge.
Lunch of rice porridge and its accompanying condiments on clay/ ceramic crockery.
For years I had been eating my lunch, and sometimes dinner, out of styrofoam boxes.
I would be shoveling food absent-mindedly into my mouth with a flimsy plastic spoon that threatened to snap at any moment, while staring at the school computer screen, and trying to process the flood of emails worded by equally stressed out co-workers.
Meanwhile, I was also tracking time on the bottom of the screen and waiting for the dreaded bell that signalled the end of my meal break and the start of lesson, to ring.
Is this what being a full time school teacher has made me?
Meal times are sacred. It honours earth’s bounty and the hands that prepare food, not to mention my salary that goes to pay for them.
Yet most of the time, I was too anxious to even finish my styrofoam box packed lunch of 1 meat and 2 vegetables combo, much less to savour the flavours.
The table cloth is a humble old world feature that seems to have disappeared.
When I stopped working full time, one of the things I was very determined to do was to prepare my own meals in the most fuss free manner possible, and serve them on REAL crockery. The crockery could be clay, metal, or glass, because the time of eating from receptacles made of petroleum by-products had to end.
My misgivings of disposable food containers did not originate from health concerns or from the love of the environment. It was a lot more self-centred.
Using disposable food containers on a near daily basis makes me feel cheap. It tells me that I’m not worthy of real plates & real spoons or real chopsticks. Like the disposables, I can be carelessly thrown away too.
I’m fine with eating food wrapped in paper because paper is flat. Paper doesn’t try to look like a container & mock me.
As the anxieties of holding a full time job and courting approvals decrease, my satisfaction with the simplest of meals taken without hurry or without people talking over my head increases.
My cats eat from stainless steel plates from Thailand (yes, Zebra Brand) and Ollie drinks from a clay bowl made in Japan.
As a human being I delight in cakes served on paper doily and food on washable ceramic wares or banana leaves. A well seasoned but clean table cloth made from real cotton adds a special charm of its own during meal times.
“吃饭皇帝大” meaning “every person is emperor at meal time,” is a Chinese folk saying. It shows respect accorded to someone who is having his meal (eating rice). And by this gesture to honour Rice, a gift from Mother Earth.
These days I get to eat my rice porridge where plants by my window quietly grow.
I think of people eating from styrofoam boxes while being harassed by all kinds of demands & deadlines. And I remind myself to always try to be considerate and respect people when they are taking their meals, especially if they’re eating out of styrofoam containers.
One time in a housing estate coffee shop, a foreign labourer was sitting alone at a table that was meant to accommodate a larger group.
A group of Singaporean men came by for their usual dinner and drinks. Their number necessitated the use of the table where the lone man was.
Without a word, the foreign worker picked up his things and moved to a smaller table.
One of the Singaporean men then gestured to the coffee shop staff who saw the move, to make a glass of hot milk tea for the foreign worker.
When the milk tea was brought to him, the coffee shop staff explained that it was from the Singaporean group. The foreign man nodded briefly.
We pay men born in villages to build skyscrapers for us. We pay sons of farmers to scale hundreds of meters to clean our walls. And many who can recite sacred texts in their own tongues by heart were paid by us to pick up our trash.
The foreign worker sat a bit longer and sipped his tea quietly. This is what respect must have tasted like.
Before he left the coffee shop, he asked for a plastic carrier to bring the remaining tea back to his dormitory.
Giver of Wisdom, Ganesh, and the Wind Lion Deity of Kinmen (凤狮爷) posing with Revival, Red Radish 1.
Over the weekend, after the Singapore government raised the alert to Code Orange in response to the evolving situation regarding the novel coronavirus, there was a rush to stockpile food supplies and essentials.
Last Saturday (8Feb), as I was waiting for a taxi in the east to take me home in the west, I deliberated on whether I should also stop by the supermarket to replenish some of my regular supplies that were running low.
I avoid eating out as much as possible. The queuing, carrying of my own tray and looking for a seat in food places will neutralise whatever nutrients any purchase promises to give me. People like me don’t need any outbreak to eat in. 😊
In the midst of my rumination, a taxi appeared in the distance. I flagged it down quickly as I had been waiting for some time.
When it pulled up, I realised it was a 6-seater space wagon!
I got on the cavernous vehicle despite knowing the trip would cost me more than the usual. The driver had made the effort of switching from the outer lane to stop for me. It would be unfair of me to decline the ride.
And as if reading my mind, the Indian driver cheerfully announced that his type of taxi ride will cost more because it is for group travellers with luggage.
Ganesh is known as the Giver of Wisdom and Removal of Obstacles. The Indian driver with his 6-seater cab literally cleared a path for me to get health supplements & groceries, and then to go home with ease.
“But don’t worry. U just sit. I know where to take you so that you can get a normal cab easily,” he suggested in a loud, booming voice, much to my surprise.
He then dropped me off at Kinex Mall taxi stand, and jocundly refused to accept any payment. Instead, he thanked me for blessing him when I wished him safety and good health.
After he drove off, I decided to make the best of his kindness by exploring the mall a bit to see if I could get some health supplements for my cats and find a quiet supermarket to replenish my noodle stock.
Next to rice & pitta bread, longevity noodles (mee sua or somen) is my favourite emergency food. And ever since I had tasted the ones from Kinmen Island, I’ve been hoping to find them in Singapore.
Longevity noodles (Mee Sua or Somen) from Kinmen. It is my favourite emergency food since childhood.
To my delight, the basement of Kinex Mall not only had a pet shop, but also a very peaceful & well stocked supermarket that devoted entire two rows of its shelves to imported groceries from Taiwan!
So among the Taiwanese snacks, staples & condiments, I finally had a reunion with my beloved noodles from Kinmen!
Handmade & sundried noodles (Mee Sua or Somen) from Kinmen Island, Taiwan.
Considering that day was the 15th day of the Lunar New Year (full moon reunion) and Thaipusam, a very significant observance among South Indian Tamil Hindus, it was more than luck that a Chinese woman would be assisted by an Indian man to go to an unfamiliar shopping mall where she could buy noodles produced in her ancestors’ birth place.
The encounter with the Indian driver leading to the noodle discovery has given me the assurance to buy just enough for my needs, and to resist the urge to buy more because of the fear of not having enough, the greed of wanting more and the arrogance that I could afford them.
And I’m amazed to read that Thaipusam marks Lord Murugan’s victory over fear, greed and arrogance. 🙏
Ollie inspects the newly bought red radishes from Sheng Shiong Supermarket. He hopes the sunlight by the living room windows will be enough for them to continue sprouting the few leaves they have. He puts one in a snail shape pot containing soil and water it. The leaves are looking good, but the red radish root appears to be shriveling. So Ollie prays over it. Red Radish Two grows slowly but steadily. Ollie is pleased to see the lush green leaves thriving even if there’s no sign of flowers. “Just take your time. I know we cannot hurry Mother Nature,” Ollie says to his Red Radishes 1,2 and 3. Ollie’s puppy friend, Nicki Ning-en sniffs at Red Radish Two. Ollie tries to make sure his Red Radishes get to meet the morning sun. Red Radish One is flowering while Red Radish Two needs more time. Ollie is happy to see his plants thriving under the sun & windhorse prayers flags everyday. A cat loves his garden even if it’s made up of a few pots of plants. Ollie is greeted by the new blooms of Radish Two on the 13th Day of the Lunar New Year celebration. The first flower is pink.
Ollie learns to see hope in the size of a potato, like the small red radish. And even if it cannot grow as fast as he likes, or may not even flower after all the troubles, being kind and showing care is definitely an act of hope.
Each week day morning for the past 30 odd years, a single question filled me with dread. And that is, “Will I be able to get a taxi to school on time?”
And I cannot even describe the existential crisis that awaited me on rainy days.
Pre-Grab App mornings, my senses were attuned to only ONE thing. And that is, the automated response from the taxi company handling my booking.
I was all dead to morning birdsongs as my whole being was focused on listening for the robotic voice to tell me the car number of the taxi assigned to me.
With Grab App, my eyes were glued to the iphone screen, tracking the rush hour cab rates & availability, while trying not to hyperventilate. Some days I felt as if my heart would just stop and I might black out on my way to the cab.
With so much going on in my mornings, I never really noticed the Sun.
If I made it to school on time for the morning assembly, my thoughts would be on whether I could log onto the digital attendance marking platform, or whether a student had brought the letter of excuse or medical certificate after the umpteenth reminder. And if I still couldn’t log on by then, I needed to update the support staff asap about the attendance. Missing the cut-off time would raise questions about my efficiency or duty of care as a teacher.
The Sun’s warmth on those mornings felt like a thousand needles poking on my neck and back.
But eversince I stopped working full time, I started noticing how each morning, the Sun reveals his gentle presence in my home bit by bit, setting my flat aglow with gold while doing so.
Morning sun on wardrobe. Not trying to be artistic here, but this is truly the first time I noticed what’s been happening for years.
A shaft of light against the wardrobe, a set of gold rectangles on the floor and speckled shimmers on a cat’s fur all announce the Sun’s arrival!
Suddenly, these are the most perfect patterns I’ve seen in my life! Sounds absurd. But that was really how I felt, as if I’ve suddenly grown eyes! Speckled shimmers on Ollie.
This morning, a friend gave me a ride to the temple on his way to work in town. The Lunar New Year festivities will be ending in a few days’ time. And while our lives and plans are affected negatively by the novel corona virus, I thought I should at least use some of my dearly bought time to dedicate prayers.
After I got off my friend’s car, I didn’t have to rush for my appointment with God. I was able to sit on one of the benches along NAFA Campus and steady my legs before making my way to a vegetarian breakfast and then for prayers across the street.
The Sun as seen from NAFA Campus touching every thing with his golden rays. The Sun above me as I dedicated prayers of liberation, forgiveness, reconciliation and healing to animal and human beings.
I think I’ve spent the best years of my youth not seeing the Sun because I was trying to hold down a job.
So with whatever years I still have, I hope to be able to keep my meetings with the Sun and other natural elements. And it’s great that for most of these appointments, there’s no need to take a cab.
El took this picture during breakfast at Himalayan Java Cafe at Boudha. The day before we had handed some ear cleaning meds to helpers of street and shelter animals. When this picture was taken, I was thinking of the joy of the young rescue worker as she hugged the bottles of medicines I gave her. (December 2019, Boudha, Nepal)
“此时此刻最美好” has been on my mind for some time. The phrase, made up of 7 Chinese characters literally means “now is the best time.” In translation it doesn’t seem much, especially when the context is unknown. But somehow, when the thought is conveyed in Chinese, it has an almost poetic feel to it even as it stands alone. At least for someone like me.
I cannot recall when & how these words came into my consciousness, except that I like the way the first 4 character look and how they sound when spoken. Plus I can pronounce them with some accuracy and enjoy doing so.
I took this selfie to remind myself how lucky I am to have my birthday celebrated with the birthdays of Jon’s wife and his father. (18 Jan 2020, Armenian Street, Singapore)
Thinking that I could have heard or seen the phrase as the title of a song or book, I did some online search but my effort yielded little.
Looking up at the leaves as light from the setting sun filters through gives me such peace. (31 Jan 2020)
But what I do know is that these 7 characters amply capture my state of mind whenever I have pictures taken.
Joy is sitting under a 40 year old tree outside Victoria Concert Hall on a Friday evening. (31st Jan 2020)
For once a happy moment passes, there will never be another one identical to it, ever again.
Branches silhouetted against the sky open my heart. Dr Nalini Nadkarni said the veins in our heart are like branches of a tree. (31 Jan 2020)
So I try to project an energy of gratitude & connection with all beings each time a photo opportunity occurs.
Young girls taught me to keep a beginner’s mind, while I showed them you can still smile even if your body is imperfect. (Nanyang Girls’ High School, 2003)
This quiet young sportsman learnt Shylock’s speeches by heart and went on to develop a strong interest in English and other writings by Shakespeare. (Singapore Sports School 2018)
And instead of worrying about my physical shortcomings, I try to be fully present with feelings of gratitude & acceptance.
With my calligraphy teacher, Dr SH Khoo at Nanyang Girls’ High School. Dr Khoo revived my interest in Kinmen Island where my ancestors originated. He is a Kinmenese as was my grandmother.
From qipao and sarong kebaya to chinoserie coat, I’ve worn them all in many memorable celebrations. (Sydney 2018)
Because in the days ahead and especially if they happen to be difficult ones, I hope to be able to look back at old pictures and say, “Yes, those were truly joyous times. And whatever happiness others have received, I’ve been given freely too. So there’s no room in my heart for jealousy or envy when others receive good things.”
And in the midst of mask buying and news of man-made disasters, I wish all my friends the equanimity to locate the various joys in their life and draw strength from them to sail through the winds of change.
Feeling extremely surprised by my first ever bonsai (mini tree). It was a birthday gift from Krison. We had lunch at Green Dot at JEM on Chinese New Year Eve.
Krison boiled water and brewed the Taiwanese Tea, while I got the mostly Daiso crockery ready. I believe Queen Elizabeth 2 would have approved of our old school gestures of tea serving even though her tea & crumpets are served on silverware & Wedgwood china.
Lisa Ong 