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.
for everything flowers, from within, of self-blessing;
though sometimes it is necessary
to reteach a thing its loveliness,
to put a hand on its brow
of the flower
and retell it in words and in touch
it is lovely
until it flowers again from within, of self-blessing;”
– part of “St Francis & the Sow,” poem by Galway Kinnell
I found this poem years ago in Oprah’s magazine. When it was time to discard the magazine, I removed the page that featured Kinnell’s poem & used it to dress up the cover of my journal.
Since childhood, I had compulsions to touch tree barks and flowers, and greet them. Warnings about getting bitten by insects on the vegetation, or simply that they were “dirty” kept me from acting out my fantasies.
Galway Kinnell’s poem liberated me. 😊
And now I’ve even got a cat to join me.
So here’s wishing the gift of self-blessing on all my friends. May our flowering from within grant us the capabilities to help others from without to flower.
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.
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.
The turquoise stone necklace from Nepal. Turquoise is cherished among Tibetans, First Nation Peoples, Egyptians and many old cultures for its many healing & spiritual purposes.
Today I wore my necklace of turquoise stones from Nepal to an animal shelter in Singapore. My friend had invited me to join her for some volunteering work there.
Turquoise is called the Sky Stone by Tibetans. It has many healing properties. By having turquoise on me, I wanted to remind myself to constantly project vibes of health & vitality, and not pity on the animals that I saw or touched. And of course I also wanted to look good and dress up for the cats and dogs.
Like most animal shelters, this one is located in a fairly remote part of Sg. Volunteering is a commitment that requires planning, time and travelling.
Not one to take such an opportunity lightly, we decided to dedicate today’s work at the shelter to my friend’s late brother. He had set an example of kindness to animals for his younger sister during their growing up years.
When he was studying in JC (Junior College), he rescued a kitten. He was the first in her family to persuade their parents to adopt a dog. And because of him, their home has become a refuge for a number of animals over the years.
Upon our arrival at the shelter we met a young man who was there on his own. Daryl had just completed JC and wanted to spend his time helping animals.
When my friend’s brother rescued his first kitten years ago, he was around the same age as this volunteer, Daryl. ♥️
So the morning went by with us unwrapping metal frames, hooking them to each enclosure to increase vertical space for the cats, and slipping pillow cases over the frames to form beddings for the feline occupants to sleep comfortably above ground.
“Hurry up, housekeeper! Make my bed!” Miss Tortoiseshell urged.Our labour gave the shelter operator who is on 24/7 a bit of rest, and freed up time for the more experienced volunteers to tend to the cats’ feeding & cleaning needs.
A few were trying to climb onto their midair contraptions even as their “housekeepers” were still making their beds.
When the beddings were secured, the cats took to their mini airmocks with gratitude.
A very talented dessert chef also came to make the beds for animals! She brought SWEETNESS to the shelter.
Meanwhile, the rain came, followed by the glorious sun.
This little calico girl demanded cuddles from everyone.
Towards tea time, every single cat that was visible to us was acknowledged. Eye contact, smiles, head rubs, cuddles and wishes of healing were given & received.
This shy one came closer and put her face against the wire netting for some contact after hearing the steady intonation of the prayer of compassion. This ginger baby and his mom were rescued from culling at a resort. May business owners be kind and wise to all sentient beings, not just to the ones that can talk and pay.Even the more nervous kitties stood their ground, calmly facing us as we spoke softly to them.
And the kitties in hiding would have felt our goodwill, for the whole shelter was bathed in a golden afternoon light when our mission was completed.
After the shelter, we stopped by a cafe for some needed hydration & reflection. The cafe was located in a garden nursery with very strong balinese landscape features.
We took pictures with the balinese stone carvings of dancers and frangipani, and the Rainbow showed up to join us. Of course there are scientific and technical explanation for its appearance in the photos. But we were thrilled with the unexpectedness of it all, as if we had been bestowed some divine blessings even as we were simply having fun.
The Rainbow is a much loved symbol in many cultures. It is ever present even if we’re not consciously seeking it.
When I got home later in the evening I checked a text that was sent from Nepal during our time at the shelter.
The text came with a picture.
“Lisa, what’s this?” Reena texted. I lost this turquoise earring in the hills of Hatibaan. We searched outside and inside of Reena’s car. Her driver nearly took the car seats apart. But the earring refused to show. Now months later, it appeared.
It showed my Nepali host, Reena, holding on her palm, one half of the turquoise earrings that matched the necklace I wore today. I had lost that earring last December in Nepal.
And just this morning I was wondering if I would ever see the missing half of my earrings again.
The surprise emergence of a little turquoise after being lost for months seemed to be showing me that what is spoken or thought of with love can never be completely lost.
And this thought encourages me to dedicate whatever remaining time and energy I have to seemingly “lost” causes.
It also strengthens my habit of performing deeds of relief in the name of people and animals that have left this earthly realm.
Like the Rainbow that arches over us, we are constantly held and supported by the sacred presence of those we love.
“Run to the Rescue with Love, and Peace will follow.” – River Phoenix, the late brother of Joachim Phoenix.
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.
Lisa Ong 