Today is Girls’ Day in Japan. Also known as Hinamatsuri or Dolls’ Day, Japanese families with daughters display dolls and make special dishes to celebrate daughters.
Daughters who study & play.
Since ancient times across cultures, daughters have played pivotal roles in securing the economic survival of families and the political stability of countries, despite not receiving the same respect as sons in many asian households.
There are all kinds of daughters.
Daughters who love animals.
Daughters who study, daughters who dance, daughters who dare, daughters who heal and daughters who work and daughters who are traded to supplement family incomes and so on.
Daughters who represent the nation.
So here’s wishing all human & animal daughters, regardless of contributions & situations, good health, joy and kindness!
Daughters who rescue & heal.
May the female energy be duly honoured so that daughters who smile will bring forth greater abundance, constant creativity and deep healing for all sentient beings.
Little Gymnast and Big Boy were working on their synthesis and transformation skills.
They are both 10 years old.
Little Gymnast was in a lilac t-shirt and cobalt blue shorts. Long haired and light-footed, she resembled a garden imp.
“Fat people are not funny!” Big Boy blurted out in a huff. He was looking at a sentence about keeping healthy through regular exercise.
Little Gymnast looked up from her work and said gently but firmly, “You are putting yourself too much into the story. The sentence is not talking about you.”
Big Boy was slightly taken aback by the certainty of his diminutive tuition buddy.
“It’s your imagination. You have to stop imaginating everything is making fun of you,” Little Gymnast added.
“Do you mean ‘imagining’?” Big Boy clarified, looking genuinely puzzled. His misguided feelings of offence earlier on seemed to have completely vapourised after hearing this strange word from Little Gymnast, whose vocabulary range wasn’t as varied as his.
“Yes! That’s what I mean. Your imagination is messing with you!” Little Gymnast held onto her belief. She was not in the least embarrassed to realise that her word form, “imaginating,” did not exist.
“Now, can I borrow your correction tape, please?” She asked sweetly.
Big Boy happily obliged by sliding the piece of stationery across the table to Little Gymnast.
And that was how a young girl helped a young boy let go of his wrong perceptions, and in return he lent her the tool to correct mistakes in her own assignment.
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.
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. 🙏
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.
Each lunar new year on the 9th day, the deity who lives in the sky and is therefore accessible to all tribes is honoured with offerings coloured in red.
My late maternal grandfather taught us to observe this yearly prayer ritual on Day 9 of the Lunar New Year. When we do this, we are also keeping memories of my grandfather alive.
The Sky Deity holds great significance among the hokkien/minnan speaking group of chinese people to which I was born in.
My cousin, Edwin, holding prayer offerings of longevity noodles, cakes and eggs while his father stood proudly at the door looked on. This continuation of spiritual legacy from one generation to the next is much appreciated by me.
Yesterday evening I dropped by the temple to join my mom, aunties, uncles and cousins. They have been observing this prayer ritual to Sky Grandfather since my late grandfather’s time.
Grandmas and grandpas making paper offering as the fire roars is a very powerful sight for me. To see elderly folks actively taking charge of the spiritual life of their families is active aging to me.
My mom and her brother making their prayers before taking their offerings to Fire. My uncle is the custodian of the temple. My late maternal grandfather was the custodian before him. Each visit to the temple for me is a visit to my childhood and renewing connection with my grandpa. He taught me many things. And I believe my understanding of spirituality partly came from him.
Folks in their 60s, 70s and 80s, some on their own, some accompanied by family members made offerings to Sky Deity.
The banner holds the title of the Sky Deity. He is known as the Jade Emperor among devotees.
Looking at the festive reds and leaping fires both energise and cleanse the souls of the wary and the weary.
My cousin, Edwin, tending to Fire, who turns all our earthly concerns into ashes, so that we have the space in our hearts to live fully for another day.
Away from the fire offerings, in the cool darkness under the red lanterns, silver haired devotees ruminated quietly on the ebbs and flows of life, and spoke affectionately of their creaky joints.
Each lunar new year for as long as I can remember, I have to go & see two friends.
With a trusted childhood friend whose fierce appearance dispels all impurities.
When I was young, these friends didn’t ask about my school results.
When my lack of mobility kept me from childhood games, I often leant on one of them or sat at their foot while others in the courtyard played.
When I entered my 20s, they didn’t care if I had a boyfriend.
When I got older, they were not bothered that I was unmarried and living with cats.
The silent support of my childhood. I often sat at the foot of this temple guardian diety or lean on him. (25 January 2020)
Over the years as my hair turns grey, their magnificence gains significance even while the panels they were painted on are splintering at the bottom.
This morning as I gushed about this pair of painted temple door gods to my cousin’s lovely wife as she indulged me and graciously took our pictures, a temple visitor’s interest was piqued.
The man took out his cell phone and started photographing my ancient childhood friends. I smiled gratefully.
My childhood exposure to temple door deities has caused me to feel immediately at home in any temple anywhere in the world as soon as I meet their temple guardians at their door.
Running my fingers over the patterns on their robes and the outlines of their accessories, I felt their total acceptance of me.
My relatives are often amused and slightly puzzled by my almost compulsive need to take pictures with these silent sentinels of an old temple, year after year.
Besides honouring the pair that had watched me grow up and now growing old, these yearly pictures with them is perhaps my response to impermanence.
For how could I assume that this temple will always be here, or even if I will get to visit it next lunar new year?
And because temple drawings are usually too massive and too complex to be easily replicated or casually replaced, the temple guardians have also become visual markers of my private journeys, just like two trusty childhood friends who are there for you, regardless of what you have become.
For the first time as the youngsters gathered around me to pose with my oldest childhood friend, I wished that they may also find the silent support and grounding they need in their life’s journeys.
With my oldest childhood companion and the younger generation for the first time. (25 Jan 2020)
This afternoon, the pet supplies arrived. There were kibbles, canned food and pee pads for the feline mob I share my home with.
If I’m not home, the goods will be discreetly stacked outside my door till I return.
Today I was home. So I gave the delivery boy a small tip by placing some money in a red packet that has 4 gold characters 一帆顺风 on it. They wish the recipient great ease in all undertakings .
As I handed the non-Chinese boy the red packet I took care to explain to him what the characters on it meant. Then I wished him smooth travel and safe driving wherever he goes in the course of his job.
He was very touched by the gesture. Delivery staff often brave crazy traffic, & tight deadlines, not to mention bearing the brunt of clients’ anger when the delivery goes wrong.
My nephews and their mom at the temple on Chinese New Year in 2018.
I have 2 nephews. In a few years’ time they’ll enter the workforce.
I make it a point to address service staff respectfully and look them in the eye. Xiao Wang (小汪）of Pan Pacific taught me how to book ferry tickets to Kinmen. (June 2019)
I believe when I’m kind to other people’s sons and daughters, my nephews will meet kind people too. So I needn’t worry about who they will meet, because everyone has the potential to be kind.
Celebrating Chinese New Year in 2018 with a group of daughters.
Lisa Ong 