Wsdc 2015 memories

I will write a detailed post of my experience as an adjudicator for WSDC 2015 once I can breathe from case writing madness for my students. Work has been crazy hectic for the past month and there is another month to go.

From being selected to attend adjudicators training and showing up that very Tuesday on July 28, it was a total dream July/early August. Walking into the lecture hall and being surrounded with overwhelming talented and good looking people from all around the world, I was in awestruck and kept asking myself, 'is this real, is it really real?' Taking two judges tests which was really nerve wrecking and pushed me super hard to think and craft out answers to my utmost best, knowing that it was all or nothing for me. I told myself even if I did not make it to adjudicate, it was already success thinking of where I was 10 years ago in life, repeating the gcse's.

Then came the email from the CA on Wednesday as I was about to go into teacher training at the British council asking if I was free on Thursday, I completely freaked out and went into ultimate spazz mode realizing I was one step closer to fulfilling my mission I had set out on. Fast forward to Thursday morning, showing up at Chij and my name being called at adjudicators roll call, holy crap it felt unreal that this is now, this is for real, no more wild dreaming. Walking into the room where I took my seat at the adjudicators table on the right side and filling out my name and country on the chairmans introduction sheet and having my name announced as one of the judges. I still remember every moment of it like a memory that cannot be erased. Last year was a trying year with lots of setbacks and going deep into the valley, months where I believed there was no hope, to rising above and beyond to get to this stage. I was at top focus when judging and knew it was all or nothing cause this might be my one and only opportunity. I ended up being in the majority of a split ballot giving the win to the opposition, and my, team Slovakia has very atttactive looking speakers. Not even joking, hot damn they looked like gq models, even the female speaker who could easily be a model too. Giving feedback over lunch to both teams, done and dusted, one round in the books. Talking to Josef who is super young and yet so gifted.

Fast forward to Friday morning judging another round, and meeting team Turkey who was extremely helpful with travel advice when I told them that I would be in Istanbul for a day in December, after I had been the minority vote in a split decision. Their coach, Miha one of the most soft spoken and humble guys I have ever met.

Saturday night, I was out and received a call from the CA asking whether I was free on Sunday to judge both rounds and of course, I said yes. Wholly crap, 4 rounds of judging?! You never expect it to be in your wildest dreams, two weeks later I finally get to take a step back and finally see what I have done.

Sunday morning, I judge a round, giving the minority vote yet again, then rush off to meet Nate at the train station to take him back to the venue. Sounds insane but yes, I bring a friend whos in town for the weekend on his first visit to Singapore to watch debate. I introduce him to a bunch of people who are judges/organizers etc and he seems to soak it all in. Nate sits in the room I am judging and gets acquainted with team Mexico (yet again), I give the minority vote.

Fast forward to the closing dinner which was amazing. Anton gives me a goodbye hug, damn I will miss those suave looking speakers. Talking to Chris, the convener for next years tournament who is one of the most down to earth people I've met and finding out that he's on cs which I have a profile on and talking random things and getting a goodbye hug from him too. I need to find a way to make it to
Stuttgart to judge next year! And talking to the Dutch team makes me miss the Netherlands real bad. 5 years since I left Holland from exchange but I will be there in December.

I'll write more later.

Out of here like a reply speech.

Surrender the moment, bring it to life

In September, I coached a wonderful group of year 5's from Henry Park school for the raffles institution primary debate competition. Having only a week to prepare, they performed above and beyond and made the quarterfinals in 7th place. By the skin of their teeth I must say.

It was my first time that I've managed to break through to the elimination rounds in 2 years of coaching and it sure was a great feeling. Although they lost the quarterfinals, one of the team members came in sixth place overall (out of at least 100 students who competed) in the speaker rankings!

Belated congratulations to the team- Titus, Ren Ying, Conrad, Rohin and Brandon (and not forgetting Noelle who was part of the research group.

Never too late for good news

For the first time in the Secondary Schools competition, I had a student ranked.

One month overdue, already history, but it must be shared.

Number fifteen. Nothing more than praise and happiness directed at the first/second speaker who was the quietest and shyest in class. A humble heart gets you far.  Yes, I am truly proud of him for his accomplishment

For this is my cry, my one desire

To see all of you succeed in life, to never have the fear of dreaming big cause there's nothing between you and your dream.

This goes out to my students: Hansel, Benjamin, Nirvain and George (if you happen to read this).

I believe in you that's why I set even tougher challenges and hurdles in round 3. I saw the potential and ability in all of you. We may have registered that loss, let each other down with tensions and emotions at its highest, but at the end of the day, all of you are warriors. You did try. That monster was too big and swallowed us up. We have learned something and all of you are going to get even better. Don't ever stop learning.  'Cause you guys spoke like you owned the room.

Thank you for letting me have the chance to coach you. I genuinely cared for all of you and am I am forever indebted to be your coach for the past month. For I took a chance and ventured into the unknown quitting my previous job and this was indeed the most beautiful thing that I could have ever asked for in life. February-March was the highlight of my life, in my 20s. If I didn't quit that job, I would not be experiencing this beautiful feeling now, and wouldn't change anything in the world for it. Have I ever felt real happiness before? If this is happiness to be able to coach the most eager to learn and enthusiastic 15 year olds, that feeling is beyond amazing. Better than the riches of this world. Better than my time in Europe and the States in 2010 and the pre-college graduation trip to the East Coast and touring Yankee Stadium in 2011/12 at Christmas.

4 days, 11.5 hours of lesson this week. Non stop hard work. We probably worked harder than any professional team or any team in the competition. I'm not even counting the hours every member of the team spent working on their speeches and case outside of class. If I could turn back time and be downing red bulls all night and not sleeping for a week, I would do it. The coach goes through tons of material, just like how in professional sports, the head coach goes through hours of film, pulling all-nighters and not even having any shut-eye time so that the team is able to succeed. I am strongly motivated by Roy Williams, Joe Torre and Gregg Popovich, three of the head coaches of my favourite teams in college basketball, baseball and NBA.

Keep your head up, never look back on this. All the talent, insanity and jokes that transpired from learning, that's what class should be. Never give up on your dreams. If you ever feel down and out, remember my voice parroting at you to not undermine yourself because you are bigger and better than you think. I wish I could just keep going on coaching and educating all of you cause you make me want to teach you even more. It's the biggest gift that an educator could ever receive, your spirit. I could jabber praises about everyone till the water dries up in the oceans.

Signed,

Coach N

P.s Monsters shall be reduced to dust. We'll grab their horns and bones and eat them up. :)

Ostriches with their heads out of the sand!

and I did it, all that stubbornness has paid off

The late Jeret Peterson's words say it all in the title and this post.

Those seven magical words I've been yearning to hear. "And the winning team goes to the proposition."

(The second speaker on my team was mentioned as best speaker too!)

7:15pm, February 28, 2014.

What I've been out there searching for has finally came to pass. One year of darkness and depression. Two months ago, teaching wasn't even in my dictionary. I was popping countless anti depressants, drinking bottles of alcohol, and starving myself for days. Suicide attempts for the past 20 months, and finally, a tinge of sunshine. "This win represents me overcoming everything... it's my gift to myself. And I'm ecstatic. I'm extremely happy with the way things (have turned out yesterday)."quoting Peterson. The road is long, and the bumps can be a killer. I've worked myself crazy, changed jobs in a span of six weeks but it feels all worth it right now. When things aren't working out, keep walking. I have the best small group of students that I could have ever asked for, though I have only been working for three weeks, and once they lose, my contract will be up, and I'll be long gone.

I'd work all night to make sure the students get the best out of me in class, though they might not sound like a perfect speaker, they have made me proud. When your heart and soul is on the line, this is what I live for. I did the same at the previous school, but betrayal and poison slammed the door and I walked out before it got worse. All for the better. "I always had this feeling I was put on this earth to see how much crap somebody could go through and still come out on top," as Peterson said. This speaks volumes to me. Bullied for being different, which sparked rebellion. Nobody expected me to ever graduate from college, or even high school. But I did. I made it through and walked across the stage that very day on July 13, 2012, with my degree in hand. Someone who was never in the best class and who never had a respectable GPA in college and couldn't cut it anywhere. Who would have ever thought that I'd end up working as a debate coach, or rather, make more than the minimum wage? I've made it. The hours I spend drafting cases, editing it till its of standard, all for one cause. If I didn't do it, I'd go to bed at night with full of regret. All the what if's. Writing cases keep me out of the darkness that I do not wish to see again.

"It goes to show that people can make something of second chances," he said. "It's OK to make mistakes as long as you learn from them and as long as you're able to become a better person." Wins do not come very often, as I told the team, but its the learning process that can never be replaced. Talk about a dream, try to make it real, you wake up in the night and it feels so real, sings Bruce Springsteen. One win in the bag, onward to the next one which needs to happen. I told myself the night before the competition that I will have the students win round 2, and I did. That hundred hour work week didn't feel so bad after all.

If my students ever read this, I am so proud of your achievement. It's back to the grind come next class!

A Yankee fan's nightmare

Three World Series appearances in this millennium.
Two rings in the past decade.
Those champagne celebrations in late October, outnumbering the World's Greatest Team of the 1900s.
Take me back to the grand old days of the late 90's,
It's been a long time.
The home grown drafted players,
All gone bust and flopped.
The biggest rival,
After two years of the "titanic sinking", Bobby Valentine,
Cellar dwellers in 2012 and the epic fried chicken-video gaming-beer drinking shenanigans,
A long lost memory in time for the Red Sox.
The postseason ghosts haunting,
Derek Jeter's nasty injury last October,
Nothing gone right for the Yankees.
Here I go,
Scream my heart out,
Rooting for Detroit to win the AL pennant,
Fielder is as big as Ortiz,
Both can't run bases,
One got thrown out in a crucial inning running to third.
Never saw it coming,
Should have never started running,
A good twelve hours ago.
So I lay my head back down,
And I pray to the baseball gods,
May the Cardinals beat the Red Sox.
They are my only hope.

Raffles Institution Invitationals 2013

Busy has been taken to a whole new level. It was an exciting and fulfilling learning experience for me, not just passing on my skill to the students; albeit information overload for a few students as it was their first time on the panel, as a fifteen year old. Although at 10pm on a Sunday night, I am still reeling from the adrenaline rush and amount of work done, I am contented. Simply: the fact that I cannot stop talking about how proud I am of the team of students I guided and mentored.

From the simplest of all things at eight in the morning that I did: taking attendance of all the judges present, and briefing them on the scoring range I implemented for consistency to moderating and calculating scores (for consistency issues), doing power matching for the second and third round under a very tight schedule and  re-allocating judges multiple times, this sure taught me to multitask even further. In addition, I gave one of the students the autonomy to make logistical decisions, rather than be the one have a say in every single issue.

I probably listed out most of what I had done yesterday in the span of ten hours, not including judging three rounds, giving the verdict and oral feedback to the teams, what a whirlwind day indeed.

Special thanks to Kelvin for letting me play a part in running the tournament. Much appreciated for giving me more experience!

Not forgetting Samuel, Malcolm and Deon. The past 3, 4 weeks of non stop emailing with information, thanks for the swift replies and great suggestions and productive day. It was a pleasure working with all of you.

What's the scoop?

Besides writing a first grade English book on sentence transformations and close passages, and teaching a year 4 class on debate and other classes since July (most of my classes are scheduled to end in late September as they are all project-based),

I also helped out at a Homeworks! Habitat for Humanity house-cleaning project in July in Chinatown. It was really meaningful and made me appreciate what I have. My team consisted of a flight attendant who works for Singapore Air, a lady who works at A-Star Institute and a high school junior. We cleaned, dusted, wiped, scrubbed a destitute lady's house. She was in her eighties and had almost next to nothing.

Here are a few tournaments that I have judged at since April this year; not including the national secondary/high school tournament:

Raffles Institution Under 14's (May/June 2013)

Ministry of Education-ACJC inter collegiate debating championships (June 2013)- panelist for the quarterfinals which involved two highly skilled teams and the eventual champion (ACJC vs Hwa Chong Institution)

Singapore Polytechnic Debate Open (June 2013)- panelist for all preliminary rounds, knock-out rounds including the junior/secondary school division grand finals

Valid ITE (July 2013) - panelist for all rounds including the grand finals

Hwa Chong Invitationals- High School Division (July 2013)- panelist for all rounds including the grand finals

Singapore British Parliamentary Debate Championships (August 2013)- panelist for preliminary rounds and the semifinals of the senior division

(evidence is always good and this time, here I managed to get a screenshot of my name for one of the rounds I judged:)

Upcoming:

Raffles Institution Elementary School Debate Invitational in early September. I am helping as an adviser to the student-organizers in addition to judging the tournament. (thanks Kelvin for allowing me to be part of it!)

Hoping to get my book done and dusted with very soon!

I cannot wait for college football to start again. Go Bruins! (I am a converted UCLA Bruins football fan, thanks to my good friend who is a UCLA alum.)  Why is USC ranked in the top 25 again? Boooooo.

Devolution of a new type of evil

While seated on the bed in our hotel room, I could not help but notice a folder in his hard disk, next to the one which he had loaded up with movies and asked me to copy over to my computer. Curiously, I opened the file. It contained pictures and videos of hardcore pornography, which Paul had apparently forgotten to hide before handing me his hard disk. I refused to inquire about his pornography, the fact that he would be checking out of the room and headed down south to meet his friend, as he claimed. Or perhaps, his life partner, an elderly Chinese lady. This put an exclamation point to what Paul had said to me in conversations before meeting him, that he had a “special liking” for eastern Europeans and naked women. And the incident confirmed my growing unease about this supposedly successful man. He was in fact a closet sex addict and deviant.

A few months before our encounter, Paul asked me to fly up for a few days to meet him right when Christmas break started. We had already parted ways, long distance was never going to work out for us- and the fact that he had thrown me aside like a hot potato upon returning home from our previous vacation together.  One one occasion during our previous trip, Paul had decided to wear the same colored t-shirt that immediately after seeing what I wore before heading out to the pubs. “Elaine, how do I look? Is my hair OK? How about this shave – is this a close shave or what?” he asked me. And I immediately sensed an insecure and narcissistic side to this otherwise confident man which I had known for about a year and half.

I initially got to know Paul at through a mutual friend when they showed up at a bar I was at, unannounced. We talked about sports and American culture. During that time, nothing out of the ordinary struck me about Paul. In fact, my first impressions of Paul were generally positive. He seemed to be a confident and determined person, with a genuine desire for helping middle and high school students reach their full potential. What’s more, he is a driven and organized person, who constantly seeks out new challenges. 

Besides having good looks and being a slick talker, Paul has the perfect resume and educational credentials that any student under his tutelage would envy.  He earned honors from Stanford University. Following graduation, he obtained a Master’s degree and PHD from Harvard in technology and English. Paul, who comes from a mix of Hispanic and Western European descent, is an adviser of various educational committees. In addition, he is a member of various prestigious elitist circles. A promising man in his late-forties, he unabashedly calls himself a professional geek.

During my fourth encounter with Paul, he drank heavily, downing everything in sight. More disturbingly, he constantly hit on me, trying to kiss me at every opportunity. I felt extremely irritated. “Could you please stop hitting on Elaine, you’re embarrassing”, a concerned friend interjected. In response, Paul slyly said, “I’m too drunk to know what’s going on, dude.” He backed off temporarily, but eventually started his obnoxious act once again. “Elaine, I really would like to have you tonight, you have made my time in Malaysia simply the best time ever.” I was now irate with his despicable behavior. "Paul is simply another desperate guy hiding behind the shield of being drunk as an excuse to get into my pants.” I thought to myself. As the night went on, inebriation got the best of me. I eventually gave into Paul's requests and took the first move- kissing. Paul's magic words which made me fall into the first kiss was "I haven't kissed someone in a long time," something along the lines of that. He insisted he was single, but that truth was to be short lived, two years later.

My gut instincts were right, but yet I chose to ignore it and believe his words that he was dating someone right after we split up from the previous vacation. If he was dating, or engaged, there wasn't much of a detriment to remain as friends and talk on a daily/every other day basis exchanging at least an email or text message over a phone messenger. Right after the first trip, he had walked down the aisle and now, he will be moving two hours down south from where he was based with his life partner of a year. The photos which I discovered by chance on documents left online by chance, a week after I discovered the pornography. Paul was a douche. A typical slimy man with a high flying career and a sex partner in every country nearby. 

I used to have a weekly social circle, going out for drinks with friends who all knew Paul. After the first incident sparked, I lost everyone when I should have believed them that he had the ring on his finger and a player. I chose to believe the lies that Paul told me, and the fact that he never wore a ring when we hung out at all. Deep down in me, since he said he was dating, there might be that very chance for me to get back with him, despite a twenty year age difference. To me, age does not matter when I'm way too deep into Paul. During a send off at the airport four months back, Paul still had the absolute cheek to tell me these words "Maybe we might work out if you get a job and move to wherever I'm at, in Taiwan.." I foolishly believed him yet again, when he was already happily hitched for nine months. Finally when he said those words "Elaine, listen. I have been married for a year. She's easily jealous. And we both got jobs at the school in Taiwan, so it's none of your business..." before hanging up suddenly on me.

Unknown to students and the woman he's with, Paul is sexually attracted to younger girls. Actually, the word “attracted” is kind here; “lust” is probably more appropriate.  Although he appears harmless, this is someone who is frankly dangerous in many ways. 

Despite the Ivy League education, Paul is no better than other slimy expat men, who frequently stalk prostitutes outside of Singapore’s famed Orchard Towers or Bangkok's Nana Plaza and Soi 4, Pattaya's Walking Street – where teenage girls from the Philippines, Vietnam, Thailand, Cambodia and China gather each night to sell sex. Lacking the stereotypical middle-aged man bulge, Paul is tall and well dressed – making him appear less offensive on the surface. He is usually decked out in a Calvin Klein or Guess or Lucky Brand t-shirt and shorts and loafers or leather sandals. Paul approaches girls who are friends of his in a cautious manner, not showing any obvious signs of his sexual desires. Indeed, at many places, Paul is so slick that most students do not even know he is preying on them- that includes me.

Working in high schools enabled Paul to have a large pool from which to attract his female students. If he failed to feel comfortable with one, he would simply flirt with another girl. Voices of temptation undoubtedly spoke in Paul’s head. “They are so young and soft. This is like heaven.” “These girls trust you. Be gentle.” At night, when Paul was alone, he watched hours of school girl pornography to fall asleep. His subscriptions to sites distributing pornography had multiplied like rabbits mating. The more pornography Paul watched, the more his mind was fixated on young girls, lusting after their bodies.

Even more alarming, while at work with students around, Paul would become sexually aroused by students. He subsequently would make a beeline to the bathrooms to masturbate. Students trusted him easily because he ran the competitions professionally. But behind this professional façade, Paul preyed on young girls, often going to dinner with them after a school event he did technology support for. From dinner, he would lure them back to his home in various ways by making them feel at ease. Daring girls were more than willing than most to make out with him. Some of these girls likely had family problems or personal issues, leading to low self esteem; others no doubt simply wanted to experiment with an older white guy. Paul once confided to me during that fateful trip last year right before he got hitched that he once dated a former student who was twenty-four years younger than him. 

To be continued...

*names and details of universities and locations changed to protect identity.

They were raised out of steel here in the hoods

Despite battling a 100 degree temperature, strep throat and cold over the past few days, I walked away inspired from a tournament that I judged at. I've lost count of the number of debate matches judged, but two rounds- the first and last one left an image in my head. A positive one, indeed.

Students from the technical college who are generally looked down upon as the outcasts of society. The ones who can't make it in academics and on paper that's why they end up there. Battling this all my life and fallen behind due to poor decisions of laughing now and having fun while everyone is hitting it hard with the books in my younger days, I totally empathize with these students. Having to live in the shadows and face stereotypes and negativity. Lots of them come from broken homes, living in the ghettos and never had the chance to succeed.

They walked into the room and exhibited signs of defeat even before the first speaker was up on the podium. Everything seemed just too familiar to them, the going through the same motion of negativity. They lost to the junior colleges by a huge margin, but when I spoke to them, they were determined to learn how to improve. I could see it from their body language. If only they were taught how to. If only they were not looked down upon and were given the chance. It's just another opponent. If you look at it in sports, the score before every game is zero even. If only they could see that there is always a chance at the start.

I gave them a few handouts which I use throughout all the classes that I teach at elementary school level and they were extremely grateful. Nobody is a failure at all. These students have won already. They did not believe it when I said to them that they're all winners for being able to go up and deliver a speech. It ain't easy for sure. Small milestones. Give these students a chance. They aren't goners cause they're in the dumping ground of schools.

Happy Independence Day!

Having spent a total of 30 nights in the States over 2010 and 2011/12, the past 2 Fourth of July's have got me all emotional.

Three years ago, I was in Utrecht City. Someday I would love to be in the States for Independence Day.

What am I thankful to America for?

Bruce Springsteen.
The San Antonio Spurs, New York Yankees, North Carolina Tar Heels, LA Kings/NY Rangers, NY Giants... the best professional sporting leagues which keep me entertained year round.
The giant sodas and huge burgers and pizzas which I somehow never put on weight during my time in the States.
Samuel Adams, Goose Island, Sierra Nevada beer (yummmmmmmm!)
Country music.
Baskin Robbins and Ben and Jerry's ice cream
Hard Ice Tea. Yum.
Dueling piano shows
Mark Twain, Ernest Hemingway, David Foster Wallace, Arthur Miller.
Hanna Barbera cartoons
Smokey the Bear.

Forgive me for being stuck and having limited ideas but I've been blitzed with lesson planning, teaching and writing a book. No rest for the next few months, no vacation and long days pulled. Working hard for the 'man 'cause in the day we sweat it out on the streets of the runway American dream, quoting the best rocker who walked this earth's famous song.

617 Standing strong.

December 30, 2011. After 4 hours on the road from Stowe, Vermont, finally I've arived in Boston slightly before noon. Rainy morning and a few gaffes with the hotel as my family was checking in early. The day went by pretty good. Had a stumptous lunch at Legal Seafoods and walked around the Boston Common and Beacon Hill all the way to the Charles River overlooking MIT. After about four hours of walking around, my family decided to head in the direction of Boylston Street to shop, most vividly at City Sports on the 400 block and around Copley Square. Fast forward to dinnertime, we ended up at Max Brenners, situated within a block where both bombs went off. I don't know why but every major attack in the States occurs, I recall my experiences so vividly. And I go on an emotional rollercoaster hating myself for not treating my friends good enough, especially the handful who have stood by me during my darkest days and stood firm on being my friend, when I tried to throw them out, and cussed and hated at them. This makes me incredibly sad, tearing up and emailing a best friend that I love him and value him in my life last night.

And Max Brenner was where it all happened, where I felt touched by a friend on my birthday. Where I ate my first chocolate pizza for dinner. Yum. Walked back stuffed up and went to a liquor store on the same block to buy a beer to drink back in the hotel room.

December 31, 2011.

After visiting Harvard and the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, my family decided to walk across the Charles River bridge to Back Bay. Cloudy skies on new years eve, and the roads sparsely filled with tourists. Walked down all of Back Bay, and I could see Fenway Park from Berklee College of Music. Stumbled upon a fire station, went in and watched the firemen at their drill. Bought a tshirt from them as I thought it'd be neat to own an original fire station t-shirt. Walked further down to the Prudential Center, and my. It was huge. Quardruple the size of the Ion mall downtown in Singapore. Had ice cream at the food court, and the mall was closing early for New Year's eve at 5pm. By then, it was already dark outside and the crowds were starting to line the street for the parade. Floats and street performers made their way down the stretch of Boylston which had been closed off to traffic. My first New Year's eve NOT spent in an airport or in a plane going back to SGP and it felt so surreal.

Boylston will never be the same again.

Like a memory that you can't erase, it's here to stay.

Waiting for death: the destitute low income elderly of SGP

Ghettos, destitutes of SGP's low income housing. The illiterate elderly. Race and ethnicity, the different forms of assimilation, stratification, social groups and urban space. Oh, the six sociology courses I studied in college finally comes alive. I not be talking about theories at all in this recount.

A short twenty minute car ride from downtown brings me to the outskirts of Singapore, in particular, a low income project where the ageing destitutes live. No cacophony of hustle and bustle sounds fill the area. A sense of eerie silence. Blocks of old communal houses which looked abandoned from its facade, have many holed up inside. Windows latched shut with decay, some of them showed signs of rusting, broken from perhaps domestic violence or anger. Think: Detroit's urban decay with the low income, illiterate elderly, destitutes, ex convicts and addicts all live under one roof, to each their own room. A little of the Bronx, in about ten blocks of communal housing clumped together.

 Upon reaching the block where an ageing relative of mine lived, the smell of various commonly abused drugs such as ice, crack and pot combined with a pungent whiff of ammonia from whiz and sewage from piping which had not been maintained properly overwhelmed my senses. The housing units had their doors either shut or opened in full view- there were no children spotted on the first floor. No playground or facilities in the vicinity either. These smells combined together, spelled out one word: poverty. The cooridors so narrow and dim, with old lightbulbs hanging from the ceiling made me feel uncomfortable. Realization that I have been living the good life creeped up my spine.

Barely holding my breath with the overload of stench, I made it to the lift, which reeked of urine and blood stains on the floor. Using my knuckles to press the elevator button, I made it up to the seventh floor which Aunt K lived. The very moment I exited, I caught sight of a middle age burly man hastily walking away from the lift landing, throwing his cigarette on the floor and disappearing down the hallway. He appeared suspicious, and the first thought that came to my mind was: Addict, abuser, ex convict. The man had probably thought mom and I were law enforcers, perhaps. Without much hassle, we made it to Aunt K's doorstep. No doorbell to press, we knocked on the door repeatedly and mom speaking in dialect. She replied back, in a cautious tone, making sure from inside that it was really my mom and not a stranger, before unlocking three padlocks, then finally opening the door, inviting us in. She mustered up the strength, all eighty years in her, to carry over two wooden stools, its legs still wrapped in plastic covering- to let us sit on.

The moment I first glanced at Aunt K's home, the paint was fading and the walls turning pale brown from dampness. Her house was the size of a king sized bed plus a bathroom cubicle in your downtown mall. The tiles had a cloud of dust on them, my feet coated in grey. Amazingly enough, Aunt K's kitchen was barely existent with a portable stove and refrigerator, resembling what NFL/college football fans bring to tailgating parties before the game. She was a hoarder, the house cluttered with tons of plastic bags, old shoes, old metal biscuit tins and disposable cutlery from purchased takeout given the welfare workers I presume.  Mom handed her a box of herbal tonic and raw fish, deboned and Aunt K showed her gratitude by shaking my mom's hand and repeatedly saying thank you. As I could barely speak the Chinese dialect, my mom did all the talking-- and ever so often, I offered my sentiments in Mandarin which Aunt K could comprehend.

From the twenty minute conversation with Aunt K, she was one of the better, well  looked after ageing residents in the block due to her nephew introducing her to a church that looked after him for awhile after he was released from prison. (Backstory in short: Her nephew, who is my mom's cousin has been a drug addict and been in jail all his life. However, during a few years of his release sometime in the early 2000s, he managed to convince his Aunt to attend church and believe in god.) I am not religious but silently feel pleased to know that Aunt K does not have to worry about when her next meal would be, and fork out a single cent for rent and utilities and medical care. Unlike most of the residents in her block who often go without food, she has social workers from the church she attends who pay her a visit about three times a week, bringing her groceries and help her to tidy up the house, keeping her company. In addition, they accompany her on her scheduled trips to the hospital. Speaking of the hospital, I noticed boxes of medication on the plastic table beside her bed, which she has been ordered to take for her various health ailments that come with ageing. A closer look brought my eyes to see that she was taking Bayer Asprin and glucose tablets. Generic indeed, but when your medical care is paid for by the church, on the cheapest plan, this is what you get. (Aunt K did not have pension when she worked as a cleaner back in the day, unmarried and has no family in touch with her over the years since her older sister passed away in 2006 from diabetes. Her older sister's family left her to fend for herself as she was of no use, they claimed.)

The authorities come ever so often to cut off utility supply to the units whose residents are unable to pay the bills. Sometimes the elderly die in their flat without anyone knowing and it can go undetected for days until the stench is unbearable and a neighbor/resident calls for assistance. There is no resident center for the elderly in the vicinity. Unwillingly, she slowly, but hesitantly says there has been a few suicide case in the block she lives at, which yet again, involve the drug addicts- either because they have run dry of money for drugs, or renegade from the authorities during a crackdown, attempting to jump off the parapet to ground level from storeys above.

Aunt K explains that the residential population in her block does not comprise of children, and a vast majority of the residents stay by themselves. They range from their mid forties to as old as ninety years of age and are mostly illiterate and never made it past elementary school. Aunt K never went to school either but is able to read Mandarin. She is unable to speak English.

When asked about the cops, in a hushed tone, she speaks of the frequent police sirens blaring through, and hustling and screams fill the air, similar to an action scene on tv. The police make unannounced checks on offenders and most of the time, it ends up with the dweller being led away in handcuffs, sometimes never seen again. Aunt K seems unfazed by the drama that occurs and whenever she leaves the house, she takes extra precaution by leaving home in daylight hours and turns on the radio as a decoy that she is home, just incase crime might happen. So far, in the years that she has lived there, she has yet to face any injustice or harm. Aunt K does not interact with any of the residents due to the nature of her situtation. Her days are filled with reading the bible, listening to the radio and doing basic reflexology exercises, visitations to the hospital- accompanied by the social workers from church and doing anything to pass her time. She is content with what she has in her twilight years, having a roof over her head and meals everyday, and the simple pleasures of hearing podcasts on the radio.

As my mom had an appointment, we had to make a move, with Aunt K nodding in sadness, her eyes drooping- a stark contrast to the sparkle back when we had arrived half an hour earlier. We slowly bid her goodbye, she tells us to be safe on our way out, as she painstakingly removes the padlocks and opens the door again. This time, the smell overload does not bother me as much, with a sociology lesson in my head, as I try to decompress what I have just learned and heard. We walk back to the car, parked a few streets away in a middle income neighborhood, my guard slightly let loose.

Scammed in Hanoi

If I wanted to count the number of every single person who has fallen prey to scam in Hanoi, I certainly would not be able to keep track. This unfortunate mishap happens to the innocent, at the expense of the locals who disregard and have thrown dignity and morals and conscience and image out the window, into one of the many lakes and rivers in the city. As much as I understand they are trying or have to make a living to feed themselves and their families, doing so at the expense of the harmless who have not offended or done any wrong to them, the dark side of humans have been exposed.

Digressing, why does one scam? Greed drives people to dishonesty and using unscrupulous means to churn out the dollars. Unethical and distasteful. In some cases, the "scammer" might not actually want to scam or swindle a foreigner of their cash, but he could be working for a syndicate or someone who takes a huge cut of the amount he has successfully conned from the victim. He could face punishment in the form of getting beaten up if he is unable to earn a certain amount everyday thus he commits that act, although clearly aware that it is not the right thing to do. Deceit to earn more cash to feel satisfied, overcharging so you can go home early? The reasons for why people cheat and commit fraud are never ending.

From reading a good 20-30 articles about scams, and the dangers of it, some authors claim that the swindlers, when told off by them responded that it was their job, some feigned innocence and the rest of the con artists became aggressive. Whatever you call them-- con artists, fleecers, hustlers or fraudsters, they project and shed a negative image on a country, on the contrary to image and face being extremely important in Asian culture. Being poor does not give you the liberty to commit these acts!

I fell prey to various scams in a day, and actually genuinely felt touched for a moment shedding a little tear (but quickly retracted when I knew I was in for a ride that never ended.) Befriending the staff in a food and beverage establishment the moment someone asked me "are you alone here, is this your first time?" and foolishly letting my guard down and speaking the truth. Then I took a gamble and ate street food, within half an hour of consuming it, the food poisoning had started-- stomach upset. Tried to hold it down and went back-- promising that I would be back after I wanted to try a local delicacy. I was still swayed and falling even further into the trap of the scammers and allowed them to introduce me to more crooks. Oh, "never talk to strangers", that infamous line your parents tell you at nursery age, it certainly did not come to my mind. Oh, beware of any local who is overly friendly and excited to help a sick foreigner! What happened after that was a total nightmare.


Getting double whammy-scammed by taxi drivers overcharging with a local who had accompanied me who pretends that she had made sure my fare was correct, then when I hand over a bill, she says it's not enough and I need to give more. Visiting a run down and undeveloped hospitals whose staff spoke not a single word of english, translated from the overly friendly local: I was being told that I needed an IV and to be warded overnight. Despite saying I did not as I knew my food poisoning would probably go away and all I needed was charcoal tablets, they insisted. And so, I was made to pay the consultation fees at the hospital without any medication, feeling worse. The cycle repeated itself twice, with taxi drivers and hospital staff. Finally at a hospital which had an English speaking "senior nurse", she told me I had salmonella and a bacterial infection that I would need pumping and flushing in my body and stay overnight but I could not pay for it since I had no insurance, and her voice still makes me scared and freeze in fear. Yet again, getting overcharged and nothing happening.

In short, I was taken from place to place to lighten the cash I had brought to spend on vacation. The overly friendly local then suggests that I should change my ticket to go home earlier, and yet again, I was taken for a ride. Made it to the ticket office, and more cash evaporated when there was no need to-- in fear that I might die from this food poisoning. All in all, I should not have told them the truth about needing a pharmacy-- which had them jumping at the thought of "Time to phish and make some money!" Every single person that I encountered said they did not know what charcoal tablets are-- when it is the most common form of food poisoning/stomach trouble medication, the red flags should have been waving in my face, but sadly no. Sickness and panic exposes your vulnerability writes "target" all over you.


Where was the spirit of humanity when it was painfully clear from your looks that you were sick?

Moral of this incident: never tell strangers the truth, and if you're a single woman traveling, always say you are married/ the boyfriend/husband is back at the hotel or out shopping/you will meet him in awhile. Also, buy travel insurance shall you really require medical attention, and do not forget to bring full supplies of pills when going to a less developed nation!

Using my photos for Challenge: Tell me the story of my life

Adapted from http://www.jabizraisdana.com/blog/tell-me-the-story-of-my-life

Here goes mine.

Challenge: Tell me the story of my life

Credits to http://www.jabizraisdana.com/blog/tell-me-the-story-of-my-life/ , this challenge would fittingly be my first post of 2013 on this (mostly sports related) blog. My version, using Jabiz's photos: Mid January- end April looked mostly like this: Final semester as an undergraduate. One year later, I miss what seemed like endless nights of cramming. Being jobless and gypsy teaching isn't very much fun when I want to explore the world/visit Bangkok to meet my lovely friends (Billy, Pete, Gob, Pennee etc) for intercultural chat sessions.

The first thing that comes to my mind would be looking out of the Esplanade Library of Singapore. Some evenings spent there getting absolutely lost in the music collection(while failing miserably at associating theories from race and ethnicity)

Somewhere only (I) know, where dreaming big and being a child is the best thing ever, not having to worry how to feed yourself financially. Is my future prince waiting for me in the castle grounds? Passed by Universal Studios on the way to the beach for a much needed bike ride, two days after I quit my desk job that certainly wasn't made for me.

This might not be 2012 material, but it sure does bring back memories of public relations class: Creating a (fake) website site rebranding a franchise/brand and press kit in Singapore. This was one of the many assignments given, and only a week to do it. Here are the links: https://twitter.com/VivaVurg http://www.facebook.com/people/Viva-Vurg/100002637145710#!/pages/VivaVurg/123689841056584?sk=info http://nnchalnt.wix.com/vivavurg ((NOTE: Everything is fake in its entirety and was done for a graded assignment, which yes, I passed and got a B+))

Days in between gypsy teaching and interviews were mostly spent like that. (End September- mid December.) In 2012, I fell in love with A Million Little Pieces by James Frey, Triumph of the City by Edward Glasser, The Secret Olympian... and many more books to name a few.

Born and raised in S-G-P!

Live everyday to the best and your life will be a celebration. I clearly should have applied this to my life last year with too much anger consuming me and losing friends, memories and failing to see the beauty of my surroundings.

Coming up in the next post would be my version of the story of my life in 2012.

Blog title change!

Changed the title of the blog from This is love, this is life to Jabberjaw in Singers. With due credit to Pat, my long distance best friend. It's all good in the hood with him now. :)

It's been a month...

Writing this from my bed at the Citadines in Bangkok (third time in Bangers this year, 7th overall since 2007), one big fish after another for the Anaheim Angels. Two Rangers signed to multimillion dollar deals in consecutive years (CJ Wilson signed last year) plus Albert Pujols. Arte Moreno sure does have hidden wads of million dollar bills deep inside his pocket. By not resigning the ageing Tori Hunter, and going after a division rival free agent, lets see if this move pays off. Josh Hamilton was signed to a 5 year contract approximately the same amount that Pujols is making per season. Last year the Oakland A's leapfrogged everyone by surprise and made it to the ALDS before losing in five games to Detroit. Would the team that makes the biggest splash in free agency win the World Series next year? We shall see. The Yankees who have the highest payroll have only won it twice in the past decade, at the opening and closing, in 2000 and 2009.  Many questions await, how would Josh Hamilton assimilate into Los Angeles where the drug dealers a'plenty and the girls around? Would he have a relapse? The lineup of Mike Trout, Albert Pujols and Josh Hamilton, if they were to go anywhere in the 3-4-5 batting order sure does spell NIGHTMARE for every pitcher, especially when they are on a red hot hitting streak.

Josh Hamilton has been an inspiration to me, for years following his trail to stardom in the major leagues. He took the road less traveled going off track with drugs and alcohol abuse but eventually made it to an everyday player and voted to start in the All Star game and winning league MVP which solidified his remarkable achievements. Not many people can overcome these obstacles and become ultimately successful, but Hamilton has beat all the odds, shut the naysayers up. All that is missing from his storied resume is that elusive World Series title to his name, which he came up short, twice. In 2010 losing to the San Francisco Giants in 5 games, and last year in a heartbreaking 7 games to the Cinderella St Louis Cardinals.

In short.

I didn't feel like writing cause the Yankees got swept, after game 1 when they lost in extra innings, they hardly put up a fight vs Detroit. Jeter got injured, everyone was defeated and couldn't wait to go home for the winter. San Francisco played Cinderella and the St Louis Cardinals had a meltdown after going up 3-1 in the series. If Tony La Russa was still managing, this would not have happened. All of America had geared up for Detroit winning the World Series, sportswriters and previews spoke highly of Detroit pitching and Prince Fielder and Miguel Cabrera. However... in game 1, Justin Verlander was rocked hard and only lasted four innings, thanks to a panda, Pablo Sandoval who socked two homeruns off the reigning AL MVP/Cy Young in his first two at bats. The media was scambling for answers to Verlander's meltdown when he had been flawless this postseason. Game 2 and 3 became a pitching duel, where the Giants prevailed, and game 4 went to extra innings and of course, the Giants prevailed, Jim Leyland and his team were embarrassed on their home turf. 29 other teams will not receive rings. Bring on 2 years ago again!

NBA season is back, college football season is winding down with three games to go. USC has become the choke artist of college football this year. Losing bad, and no BCS for them! 

The Saint Louis Cardinals refuse to go away!

Down to their last strike, with two straight batters on deck, they walked. The bases were loaded, and Daniel Descalso hit a routine groundball (which should have been fielded) up the middle and two runs scored, tying the game. This reminds me of last year in game 6 in the World Series when the Texas Rangers were going to win the title, but those Redbirds never gave up.

As I speak, Cosma (need to edit for his name) hit a line drive and another two runs were packed on. Totally resilient! Then the Washington Nationals went down in order in the bottom of the 9th, sending them home for the winter.

And on the other hand, the Yankees have won!!!!!!!!!!!

CC Sabathia pitched a complete game giving up only four hits and one run! Bring on the rematch of the 2011 ALDS again, starting tomorrow. I am so afraid of Justin Verlander, Miguel Cabrera, Doug Fister, Austin Jackson and Prince Fielder.