PR No More

I confess to feeling a little glum this this morning.

'Glum' is a very descriptive word and the sound of it conveys a numbness of spirit.

Yesterday our packing boxes arrived and so we commenced wrapping up the more precious items for their return journey to New Zealand next month.

Today I visited the ICA building and handed back my PR.

Some of my Singaporean colleagues find it a little strange that I should do so, but I believe that it is a matter of principle to relinquish permanent residency status if one is leaving the country for good. That way someone else will have a chance to enjoy Singapore, hopefully as much as I have during my time here.

Being granted PR status when I first arrived in 2006 meant a lot to me and it still does.

I came not to lead an expatriate lifestyle but to learn from the country and to contribute. I would like to think that I have done both.

So I now a "visitor" to Singapore with a month's visa. My blue plastic IC that was my passport (literally)to so many benefits has been handed back.

One month from today we will have arrived back in Auckland.

Hot Diggety Dog

Just when you thought the age of mass consumerism had peeked, along comes a product that is so profoundly useless it almost defies definition.

Introducing the Ocotdog Frankfurter Converter (I kid you not!).

This mindless piece of plastic converts a perfectly good frankfurter sausage into something grey with splayed 'legs' that straddles your plate.

I marvel at man's ingenuity; imagine the hours of design process that went into this marvel of creativity.

It is apparently is not a new device, so there must be a factory in China still churning them out.

As an aside, I also learnt that hot dogs are identified as a health problem for young children by John Hopkins University. Evidently they choke on them. Imagine what they will do with the Octodog.

Whole design departments address the American fixation with this humble weiner as the Hot Dog Redesign Exploration (below) bears testament,

Why would anyone in their right mind want to eat something that looked like this?

Franfurter sausage buns are popular in Singapore although most a made with chicken sausages to meet halal standards and appeal to the Malay market.

If you want to sample good sausages at a reasonable price in Singapore, try Marche's restaurant in the 313@Somerset mall in Orchard Road.

One final word about useless contraptions that are associated with 'bangers'.  Try the iPhone Sausage Stylus.

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Dawson Road Now And Then

Strathmore Avenue / Dawson Road Now .................................... Roger Smith 2010

Dawson Road as it used to be - pre 1942

We walk down Strathmore Avenue to Dawson Road, then onwards to our NTUC supermarket at Dawsons Place

Dawson Road used to an area of Atap houses inhabited by hundreds of Hokkien and Teochew who grew vegetables and fruit, as well as raising pigs and chickens.

Later the same area was the site of the Buller camp run by the British military.

In 1942 an Indian POW, John Baptist Crasta, described Buller Camp as being on the tip of a small hill -  a quiet place admist trees.  It was evacuated ahead of the advancing Japanese on February 12th of that year.

On June 12th this same solder moved back to Buller camp under the orders of the Japanese.  The camp became known for its anti INA (Indian National Army) attitude. The image is of INA prisoners in Singapore.

Buller Camp was disdestablished in 1953

A Bird In The Hand

Every morning, just after the break of dawn, the crows navigate their way down the MRT line from their city roost to the heartland.

They are dark, silent birds at this hour; avian stealth bombers heading out on a predefined mission.  At this hour too the volume of rail traffic is reduced although later a train comes at three minute intervals, packed full of commuters.

I am not sure that I expected so many "European species" of fauna when I arrived here.  It was a revelation to discover crows, , sparrows, squirrels and swallows but this was because of my own naive perception that such species did not exist in the tropics..

The word 'tropics' conjures up colourful butterflies, larger than life insects, spiders and lizards.  These are certainly here in abundance as is the verdant foliage of the fast growing tropical plants; red-trunked palms, large shade trees and the orchids of every hue.

According to Wikipedia Singapore has 60 species of mammals, 365 species of birds, 107 species of reptiles, and 28 species of amphibians.  It is estimated that some 11% of species are introduced including the Rock Pigeon, House Crow, Javan Myna and Eurasian Tree sparrow.  They have adapted so well to their new environment that they consistently rank in the top 20 of any avian census.

I too have adapted well to my Singapore environment but my time here is coming to and end and so tomorrow I pack away my PC, in preparation for my return to my first winter in four years - not a happy thought!

With the aid of my recently of my recently purchased laptop I hope to add a few more entries to this epistle before we leave Singapore at the beginning of July.

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Today's Print

St Andrews Before The Storm................................................................................ Roger Smith  May 2010

Of Mangoes And Thunderbolts

I don't really count myself as superstitious although I have been known to have the lucky number of 8 about my person when trying to better the odds.

Nor do I believe in most of the old Cantonese tales associated with food, particularly those that decry the consumption of raw fruit and vegetables in the fear that they may produce 'wind'.

If I recall correctly from boarding school days it was the consumption of cooked cabbage that produced this intestinal malfunction.

The sorry sight of the old mango tree beside the Queenstown MRT therefore had no bearing upon my mood.  One of its boughs, which had once sported eight ripening fruit,  had broken under the weight of the heavy crop and was blocking the drain that it had overhung.

It belongs to the TrueWay Presbyterian church which is on the site but they never seem to crop it.

I was making my final Sunday pilgrimage to the Queenstown Public Library where I have spent many happy hours in the reference section on the second floor.

Quite by chance I happened across Bill Bryson's memoir The Life and Times of the Thunderbolt Kid (click on cover image right).

This is one of the funniest pieces of writing I have read for some time and I had to stifle my sobs of inner laughter to maintain the quite sanctity of the building. Even then the leather sofa on which I sat shook with my mirth.

I know Bryson from his travel writing but his description of his childhood in the 1950's was extemely enjoyable and a pointed commentary of the consumer society of the time.

It somehow seemed fitting that I should end my final library visit  in such a jovial mood, even though I am not one to believe in omens.

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