Ode to Joy

17 March 2020

Amidst news of city lock downs, overseas travel restrictions and stockpiling frenzy, First Tutee arrived for his weekly English lesson yesterday.

After showing me his spelling list for April, he asked if I would like to see the construction pieces he had brought along.

As it was the March break, I decided to lighten things up a bit and set him some construction challenges.

With those little plastic pieces, he created a series of objects for me: a camera with lens, a hover-board and a tent for outdoor camping which also doubled up as a land vehicle and boat when necessary.

And all that time as he fiddled with the pieces, he was also able to spell most of the new words accurately, by listening carefully to the word pronunciation and recalling previous spelling rules.

He was also able to recite Christina Rossetti’s poem which he had memorised last week while making a camera for me. The delight of mastery on his face when he delivered “Hurt No Living Thing,” fluently was priceless.

Me: Spell “leapt”.

First Tutee: You mean like “grasshopper so light of leap”?

He was making an association with the word on his spelling list with a line from the poem.

I complimented him on his ability to make the connection and emphasized the consonant ending of “leapt” as I repeated the word to him. (The distinction between noun and verb form can wait)

He listened carefully for the consonant ending and added “t” to complete “leapt.” The light of understanding dawning on a boy when things make sense is precious.

First Tutee then asked me to name his final construction. I got him to describe fully & clearly what it could do because my naming would depend on his clarity of delivery.

After listening to his earnest description & demonstration on what the parts could do, I announced in a dramatic voice, “And your creation shall be called, “Aqua Terra!” “Aqua” means water and “Terra” means earth in Latin.”

“Write it down for me! Write it down for me!” First Tutee practically yelled while his eyes’ grew large at my explanation and the unfamiliarity of the new sounds.

When he saw the spelling of “Aqua Terra,” he smiled at them as though he was looking at a baby.

After that he went on to copy out the first 2 stanzas of the poem to be learnt by heart for the week. It was Diane Ackerman’s poem, “School Prayer.”

Copying out a poem encourages him to read and hold the words and phrases in his head before putting them down on paper. This practice trains visual memory and strengthens his psycho-motor skills. It also has a calming effect on him.

And in the calmness of noting down Diane Ackerman’s words, First Tutee shared information on school life and that he’s learning to play “Ode to Joy,” in his violin classes.

Me: Wow! Ode to Joy by Beethoven? It’s also the EU anthem!

First Tutee: Yes! How do you know? My music teacher told me.

I started humming “Ode to Joy,” and he was really impressed & tried to hum along. I told him he can even try to set the poem he has memorised to music. He tried singing “Hurt No Living Thing,” to the tune of “Ode to Joy,” and laughed heartily at his attempts to match words to tune.

“You mean I can also use Rainbow Butterfly song to match the poem?” he clarified, obviously making creative adjustments in his head.

Is he (Bobby Mcferrin) still alive? Can we go see him if he comes to Singapore?” First Tutee asked.

I went on to show him videos of a flash mob orchestra performing “Ode to Joy,” and jazz artist, Bobby Mcferrin singing JS Bach’s Prelude while his audience sang “Ave Maria.”

The 9 year old boy was entranced by the synchronicity & blending of music & voices.

He was very keen to know how people could play musical instruments and sing without looking at their score sheets or lyrics.

His question gave me a chance to extol the virtues of learning by heart.

By committing words, sayings and music scores to memory, we free up space for spontaneity and fun, while training our mind to learn harder things.

When he got home after English lesson, he did not ask for a rest. He went straight for his violin and starting practising “Ode to Joy.”

Later in the evening his granduncle called to say First Tutee would like to play “Ode to Joy,” at Ms Ong’s place in his next English lesson. And yes, he would also learn the first two stanzas of “School Prayer,” by heart.

So even as news of viral infection inundated the media & pictures of frantic stockpiling of physical necessities disturb our sense of security, making time to feed our children’s intellectual & emotional needs could also be as rewarding & essential as having food in our pantry and toilet paper in our storeroom.

This morning First Tutee was reading “Charlotte’s Web.” In a matter of 24 hours, his young brain has been exposed to EB White, Beethoven, Bobby Mcferrin, JS Bach & Diane Ackerman, and perhaps much more learning in the days to come.

Our fears of covid-19 are valid, and we are tempted to hoard food & medical supplies, and even become angry & sad at our helplessness against an invisible threat.

But perhaps we can also try to balance fears with pockets of joy by attending to the needs of others. And sometimes these needs can be as as simple as just showing a child how to hum “Ode to Joy.”

May all be joyful. May all be well. 🙏

First Tutee’s First Poem

9 March 2020 (Day of Miracles)

First Tutee learnt his first poem by heart this afternoon.

“Hurt No Living Thing,” by Christina Rossetti may only be 7 lines long, but for a primary 3 boy who not long ago mixed up letters, the poem felt long.

Initially he refused to commit the poem to memory. And when he tried, he got easily flustered when he couldn’t recall a word or he skipped a line.

I told him that meltdowns took up energy and prevented his brain from growing. And if he continued like this he wouldn’t be needing tuition because throwing tantrums is too easy.

He listened quietly, and then asked, “Can I try again?”

This time when he got stuck during the recitation, he didn’t want to be prompted.

He just said, “Wait, I know…let me think.”

And think he did, looking all grown-up and serious as he furrowed his brows and focused to deliver all of 7 lines on his own.

When I told him there would be a new poem to learn by heart next week, he didn’t resist. He only asked to be allowed to recite Christina Rossetti’s poem again before learning the new piece.

A good memory for words & phrases is the foundation to all types of learning. Remembering the basics help to free up space in a learner’s mind for more complex ideas to come.

I have seen children and even adults literally shutting down when a line of reasoning is too foreign or doesn’t agree with them.

So I’m determined that First Tutee builds up his working memory while he’s still young so that he’ll always have the means to manage new knowledge and new experiences awaiting him.

A Celebration of Daughters

3 March 2020

Daughters who embrace change.

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.

Daughters who dare.

Daughters who run businesses.

Happy Girls’ Day! 🌈♥️🐾

Wisdom Rising

2 March 2020

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.

Daryl

13 Feb 2020

Yesterday I spent some time at the Metta Cats & Dogs Sanctuary in Lim Chu Kang, Singapore.

The location of the shelter is among plant nursery and landscaping companies, which makes it not that readily accessible to people who do not drive.

I was therefore very touched to meet a 17-year-old volunteer who came all that way to do some chores for the animals. His name was Daryl.

Daryl and my two friends would hang the newly unwrapped metal frames inside the cats’ enclosures and slip pillow case beddings over them to form little airmocks for the kitty residents.

I love this picture because of the contrast between the human’s focus and the cat’s relaxed look.

The airmocks create vertical space for the cats and allow them to sleep suspended from the floor.

I felt very useful seated on a low stool unwrapping the frames and asked Daryl if he could take a couple of pictures of me.

I wanted my pictures to show that animal volunteerism can also include doing chores that don’t necessarily involve handling animals.

Daryl ended up making a video recording of me instead of just taking stills.

And this old woman was still wondering why was he taking so long to capture a couple of pictures! 🤣

When it was our time to bid goodbye to the shelter cats, the young man was still scrubbing the wicker furniture with another volunteer.

And I was very happy to overhear one of the young adult volunteers saying to Daryl that she would give the kind hearted JC boy a lift out to the main road after she had fed all the cats.

The day ended for me full of hope for a better world through kindness to animals & people.

My Oldest Childhood Friends

25 January 2020

(First Day of the Year of the Rat)

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)

Every boy is our nephew, and every girl our niece.

17 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.

Staying Sweet for 2020

6 Jan 2020

First Parcel in 2020 for a friend whom I hardly see but is always supportive of my animal work since 2007.

School & work started on the 2nd day of 2020 for most in Singapore.

Since primary school days the ending of the old year and the beginning of the new one carry great significance for me.

As I age, I find myself more selective and making more efforts in the simplest of activities that I partake in around this season. (This would be the main reason why I need to operate alone. 😄)

Ollie poses with a Street Dog Care calendar from Nepal. This was the first gift I mailed out in 2020.

So on the 2nd day of 2020, I decided that leaving my house to make a trip to the post office to mail a calendar to a friend was top priority.

Now the taxi fare to & fro would easily cost me at least $14, and if I were pragmatic, I should have waited a few more days to gather up more errands and mail her the calendar while I was running them. But this friend definitely deserves more, and shall not be part of my errands.

My sore throat was also healing. Although I didn’t think it auspicious to begin the new year with one, it had the benefit of making me stay home to write OM and drink honey water.

After the Westgate Post Office, I stopped by a costume jewelry counter on my way to the supermarket.

The counter was just on the walkway of the mall so it wasn’t even in a proper shop.

Ollie, like Planet Jupiter, wears my choker of 12 moons.

But the salesgirl on duty that day was dressed as if she was working for Cartier.

She showed the low priced trinkets respectfully to customers who were mostly in carefree and casual clothes.

I was immediately impressed by her regal air even though her retail space was tiny & cluttered, and even though she only had a plastic stool to sit on, despite looking like a million dollars.

When she saw me, she was very interested in the rudraksha beads on my wrist and tried to recall their Mandarin name.

“Boudhi Seeds (菩提子),” I offered.

The young Queen smiled.

After she realised I understood Mandarin, she started telling me how she liked the way my choker looked against black.

This 12-moon choker of buffalo horn reminds me of Jupiter and has accompanied to many places. Its bovine presence often allows total strangers to relax and smile at me.

I returned the Queen’s kindness by complimenting her on her youth and dress sense, and she replied, “我只是年轻罢了。而你的时尚是打从骨子里来的.” (Rough Transl: I’m just young, but your style is bone deep).

As I watched Her Grace greeting customers who didn’t even bother to look at her, I felt I needed to give her something to remind her of her sweetness.

So before I left the mall, I bought an extra bottle of honey from GNC and went back to the costume jewellery counter to give it to her.

“May your life be sweet no matter who you meet.”

At first she looked a little puzzled. Then she held up the bottle of honey and revealed excitedly that this was her first gift from Singapore! She had only been working here for a month plus. And for her to receive honey at the start of the new year was auspicious, she gushed.

And standing tall on her fine stockinged legs, the Queen bent low to ask if I could give her a hug!

As I did, I wished her a happy and youthful 2020 and may the honey gift remind her of her own sweetness, and to remain sweet no matter what kind of customers she meets.

A Himalayan Christmas Blessing

29 Dec 2019

I was all set to leave my flat for a post-christmas gathering at a friend’s place when a clear voice rose in my head and went, “Bring something from Nepal.”

I tried to ignore the voice because I had already wrapped up a present for gift exchange and saw no reason to bring another.

But reluctantly I went back to my room and selected a notebook made of Lokta paper from among the gifts from Nepal to take with me.

I’m fond of buying handmade gifts, compelled by a vague logic to honour the makers and the belief that they will bring blessings to the recipients.

As I didn’t know who I would be meeting at the gathering except “a few close friends and family members,” I wasn’t sure if the Lokta notebook would be appreciated.

When I arrived at her home, my friend had the Nepali greeting, “Namaste,” on her door.

So my first word upon my arrival was a “Namaste!” to the guests who were already inside the flat.

A tall and lanky netball player with gorgeous curly hair came to hug me. She knew me from sports school days.

A quick sweep across the living room confirmed that I was The Oldest person in a meet up of supple youth from the sports and art fraternity.

After the gift exchange and a couple of group shots, a young man came to sit with me and asked if I was a teacher in SJI before. He had been a student there and recognised me the moment he saw me at the door even though I didn’t teach him.

Our conversation drifted to school days and the convergence of circumstances that set him on a path in film & animation.

Young Man laughed at my attempts during teaching days to interest his SJI mates in “Dreams” by Akira Kurosawa when all they mostly cared about was having a lesson in the air-conditioned comfort of the AVA studio!

But years later, one of those boys would become a partner in a law firm and write to say that whenever the sun shines on a rainy day, he would remember the foxes’ wedding in “Dreams,” and think of me.

I mused that perhaps Kurosawa’s films were too stark and too abstract for teenage boys. They might have responded better to “Totoro,” or “Spirited Away,” although Hayao Miyazaki’s animations are as profound, if not more, than Kurosawa’s films.

Young Man’s eyes lit up at the mere mention of Hayao Miyazaki, the 70plus year old Japanese animation guru. This creator of fantasies is renown for his meticulous hand drawn details and his ability to convey difficult themes such as death, abandonment and loss through his tales.

Young Man then shared that even though these days lots of animation work has gone digital, he is still very “old school” at heart. He really enjoys drawing every detail by hand and still does so with his projects.

I knew by then for whom I had been told to “bring something from Nepal.”

I showed him the last minute gift that I had brought from home.

He was stunned and told me he didn’t know what to say.

And thus it was in the living room of a flat by the Kallang River in Singapore, that a young animation artist came into contact with handmade paper made from trees growing at 3000m in the Himalayas.

I invited him to use the notebook to incubate his ideas for films and animation so that the many blessings from Nepal on survival, gratitude and beauty will bring him assignments that not only pay the bills but also be of great benefit & service to others too.

Young Man accepted the Himalayan blessings reverently. I was very grateful to have obeyed the prompting to bring a gift even when I thought it wasn’t necessary.

Singleminded

21 November 2019

A couple of days back I was in the Lavender Street area after attending the wake of a pioneer street animal rescuer.

She had served the needs of homeless and dying animals faithfully even as she knew her life was ending. It’s now time for her to rest and let someone continue The Work.

At the traffic light junction outside the funeral parlour I asked a young lady in her late twenties if the way I was headed led to an MRT station.

She cheerfully offered to walk with me as she was also going in the same direction.

It turned out that she was learning to travel alone for the first time in her life. She had picked Singapore to be the first country for her solo practice and appreciated the predictability and order of our little island.

In her 4 days’ stay here she had memorised the MRT map and even knew I was living on the west of Singapore when I mentioned Jurong East. 😊

Solo Girl’s family has 7 dogs and care for a number of street cats. Her eyes opened wide in a mixture of horror and relief when I gave her the real reasons why unlike in her home country, she didn’t see any stray dogs or cats roaming Singapore streets.

I was to alight at Chinatown Point and she at Bugis Junction. Before we parted, Solo Girl asked me if I had any children. And when I told her I never married and never had any kids, she smiled warmly while her eyes lit up in amazement.

I believe this had to be the first time in my life that the mention of my unmarried and child free status solicited such looks of admiration! 😄

Solo Girl revealed that she felt very pressured to get married by her family and community. People told her that happiness could only come from being married and having children. She was getting a little stressed as she neared 30 and all her friends were settling down.

“Your family wants you to be happy and to them getting married and having kids is happiness. And because you’re such a pleasant girl, they cannot imagine you being alone. But it’s precisely because you’re such a lovely girl, you shouldn’t just marry anybody out of pressure,” I said, and we both laughed heartily at my touch of theatrics as I shared my opinion.

The tourist couple seated opposite us smiled. They could be wondering what kind of joke these two women from different races and generations were sharing.

Solo Girl was still laughing when I wished her a life of happiness on her own terms as I alighted the train.

In hindsight, Solo Girl’s short stay in Singapore might not be about sightseeing or shopping. It could have been a brief respite to recalibrate her emotions and clear her thoughts from gossips back home.

Maybe our meet up outside a funeral parlour of all places is a reminder for me to take responsibility for the choices I make, even if I have to make them alone.