when you love two languages..

Growing up in a Chinese/Hokkien speaking household, my grasp of the English language was never as good as that of my Mother Tongue. Learning Higher Chinese during my secondary school days had also deepened my love for this difficult and challenging but oh-so-incredible language. I am constantly amazed how a few characters in a single idiom can often convey so much more than the sum of its parts.

 

One would expect that if I am a language teacher, I would be teaching Chinese but fortuitously I had a take-it-or-leave-it offer to teach English when I applied to be a teacher. At times, I still feel like a fraud to call myself an English teacher when it is not something that comes naturally to me. The number of times I checked and re-checked the dictionary and thesaurus to write a single blog post is proof. Yet, having undergone that training started an unexpected love affair.

 

I love both languages. And I have come to realise that rather than identifying myself with either of them, it is more crucial to recognise the importance of language(s) as part of communication. Personally, effective communication is THE most important life skill everyone should acquire. So much wasted effort and unnecessary anguish can be avoided if what is said is received as intended.

  

Well, because I love both languages, I often try to make sense of the world, what I read, what I hear, through both medium. For example, I may watch a movie in English but constantly read the accompanying Chinese subtitles to get a deeper understanding. I enjoy such translation so much that I had offered to do translation (both ways) during volunteering stints! 

 

So recently, I was indulging in one of my favourite songs by one of my favourite artistes when I felt inspired to translate the song lyrics. Initially, I thought I would need to refer to other attempts (Mr Google really can find anything) but in the end, I was able to craft my own translation in its entirety rather fluidly. I was only concerned about not losing the original meaning (or at least my interpretation of it) that I did not bother about how my translation will fit back in the song. Look at this gem of a website I found! Such a great way to learn a new language if you enjoy singing too!!

   

I suppose it is not too difficult to guess which Chinese song I have translated especially since it is also the theme song for a famous fabulous movie! As a Physics teacher, I wonder if the songwriter had misunderstood the definition of light year to be a measurement of time rather than that of distance... but who cares! The song is beautiful and her singing is flawless!

 

What do you think of my translation? 

 

Beyond Light Years 

relishing the caress of your fingertips on my hair
it freezes time instantaneously
etching the focus of your determined eyes upon mine
there may already be no tomorrow 

compared to the vast galaxies of stars
we are more minute than dust
floating drifting in helplessness 

fate brought us together far from the madding crowd
destiny had us falling in love amidst distress
perhaps a future is far beyond light years
i am willing to keep a vigil for you in this uncertainty 

i never imagine how crazy i will get for you
without you disasters and calamities can claim my life
i am already mad in the mind for you
without you pulses and heartbeats are inconsequential 

one embrace by your loving arms
protects me from the whirlwind of life
one bond of passionate relentlessness
fires up that eternal flame of hope 

the universe is majestic yet aloof
our love is infinitesimal but brilliant
tremulous but oh so selfless 

perhaps to deviate from the course is a dream that can never come to fruition
far from the madding crowd we only belong to each other

Of course it is Edible!

The forgotten and forsaken domain

 
I knew very early on that I could never be a chef. Fire, splattering oil, sharp knife on slippery ingredients, and the constant worry that whatever I cook is not cooked through... I was so thankful that we were put in pairs for Home Economic lessons in the kitchen. My poor partner often had to take over the portions I was squirmish about but I was always more than happy to do the dishes thereafter! As a young adult, I could never do more than instant noodles and scrambled eggs. Even when I moved into my own apartment, my standard "cooked" meal was simple wraps using my trusty waffle/panini/sandwich maker. 

So when the lockdown last year forced me to rethink my resistance to cooking, encouraged and enticed by a newly renovated kitchen available to me, I decided to document my exploration into this forgotten and forsaken domain. Because.. me?!?! cooking?!?! the effort definitely deserves mention and byte space! But when I had to name the album in which I intend to collate pictures of my food creations, still concerned about the possibility of my husband and myself coming down with food poisoning, I could only come up with a "Edible?"

 Seventeen months after, I have to say I come a long way. 

In the initial stage with near-zero experience, I felt more secure following recipes to a T. One tablespoon means exactly that. I would use a proper measuring spoon and level out whatever ingredient that is being measured. A cup of rice to two cups of water. Placing the measuring tool on the counter top, I would lower myself to avoid parallax error in reading the measurement. I struggled with the ambiguity of corn flour versus corn starch. I googled for definitions of simmer and broil, and watched videos on how to clean or cut an ingredient. Sticking the thermometer into every meat dish. I favoured recipes that state the exact time requirements and often relied on the timer of the induction cooker. I especially disliked recipes with judgement calls such as "when the onion turn translucent". I would never start on a recipe unless I had absolutely everything in its ingredient list. 

Cooking was stressful. Ha!

Just made the fifth iteration of a favourite of this household - oven baked chicken and rice. Whilst cooking, I noticed an ease and confidence in myself that was not there before. Although I was still referring to the online recipe in my tablet, I had decided to make my own judgement calls - reducing the amount of rice and matching the required amount of broth accordingly; additionally marinating the chicken in a concoction I remembered from a previous recipe; skipping an entire step because I didn't see the need to waste a non-essential foil wrap; shortening the cook time because the chicken looked done. I could hardly believe this is the same me from last year!

With how well this dish had turned out with my experimentation, I feel like I have "graduated". At least into secondary level. Hahaha... I still can't cut onions and I avoid pan-frying at all cost but cooking is no longer stressful. It is almost enjoyable. I am also starting to see how cooking for loved ones is an expression of affection regardless the standard of the food. 

Thus I think it is time for me to change the name of my photo album... suggestions?

I wish I never tasted my first chee cheong fun

What was your first introduction to chee cheong fun? 

My earliest memory of it was the pre-made type kept in a food warmer alongside a variety of similarly mass-produced bao and siew mai. It takes no time for it to be dumped on a plate and topped with sweet sauce and if you are lucky, sesame seeds. As a picky eater who disliked vegetables and complicated food, that was often my go-to "meal" during recess in early school years. I think I liked it very much then. 

I wish I could remember when was my first introduction to the other chee cheong fun. I am referring to the freshly-made type using steam to cook the liquid rice flour on a cloth into translucent rice sheets with savoury ingredients such as char siew or prawns. Served steaming hot with a super light soy sauce. Okay, I am salivating as I am typing here. This is the only type of chee cheong fun I allow into my stomach now.

I was pondering this question of why was my first chee cheong fun not the second version as my husband and I were enjoying this very delicacy bought from the newly opened Chef Wei HK Cheong Fun in our neighbourhood. I really love this version of chee cheong fun!!! And I seriously feel shortchanged somehow that I grew up thinking the first version was acceptable..

As mentioned, I think I liked it then as a child. It was enjoyable then even though the rice rolls were way too thick and the dish had minimal nutrients. Perhaps in a school setting where the turnover rate is high, all the chee cheong fun I had then were soft and warm. It was during my working days when in the interest of time and convenience, I ordered a plate from the drinks stall at a coffeeshop and was served one with rice rolls that were dried up at the edges and a sweet sauce that was too watery, and no sesame seeds. Oh, the indignation I felt then. 

I can't be sure but after getting my first taste of the Hong Kong style chee cheong fun, I believe I have never (in the words of the famous doctor photographer) wasted another calorie on the version made for convenience. 

Convenience. Just a word. Who doesn't like convenience right? Me. It has become a word with negative connotations to me now. I do like ease, honestly who wouldn't like life to be easier, but no, not at the expense of life itself. How did we come to this point when convenience takes precedence over our health, our wellbeing, our only home, our planet? 

Back to the question to which I have no answer. It is hard to imagine a Chef Wei in even one school canteen. With an average of 30 minutes for recess, who has time to wait for freshly made chee cheong fun? How else to serve the masses but with mass-produced food? Yet, I can't help thinking how I would never ever stomach the pre-made convenience version if my first taste had been the freshly made authentic quality food that we deserve.  

 

Can we make the entire planet one big apiary??

I remember a time when buzzing bees scared me to death. Must be some movie I watched when I was still a child when bees meant a full-on attack that no one can escape unless you are near a body of water. Now that I am older and wiser, I do not flinch as much when encountering bees. One reason I attribute this to is the practice of ahimsa - nonviolence to all living things. And a hopefully not naive belief that I will not be harmed by another which I am not harming. Probably also well-trained by diving in trigger fish/sharks/sea urchins infested waters. But I still get a jolt when a bee flies too close for comfort.

So, you can imagine my utter amazement to watch these Tik Tok videos by Erika Thompson, a beekeeper based in USA who handles bees sans protective gear. Not one bee, or a few bees but entire bee colonies protective of their beehives. And never near any lakes or rivers!! (okay, I recall a swimming pool once) It is truly mesmerizing to see her in action. So gentle, confident and might I add elegant and gorgeous?!? [Recently there was an online feud between her and other beekeepers over her methods but I shall share this article and still standby my support for her!]

Now, you can imagine my absolute delight to discover we have our very own Singapore Bee Man!! Xavier Tan saves bees in a very similar method as Erika Thompson, rehoming them humanely. I enjoy his videos too, especially when you can recognize whereabouts he was on our sunny island! Besides providing bee removal service, he also has locally produced raw honey (and mead! read: wine) for sale!

Today he shared a post that left me incredulous. Our very own NParks (and NEA) ignorant about the existence of humane bee removal methods. Seriously? Or the excuse that they have a contract with a pest extermination company. First of all, bees are not pest!! And all contracts have expiry right? Know better and do better then! Having previously watched his video on the aftermath of a chemical extermination, this is unthinkable and unacceptable. Once again, we have allowed convenience to take precedence over the value of life. 😔

Did you know that there is a World Bee Day? I mean I generally enjoy seeing bees alive and well (rather than exterminated and left for dead) but bees are actually essential to our very survival. 

"Bees are vital for the preservation of ecological balance and biodiversity in nature."

Thus, if you ever have to remove a bee hive, please call our Bee Man. Can't believe I am saying this, but do not call our authorities, they do not know better. And apparently refuse to learn. 

Should I start a petition to get our authorities to provide humane recommendations? 👀

Devotion

 I fell in love with the concept of combining yoga and dance the first time I watched this video more than a year ago. Two movements close to my heart seamlessly intertwined together and flawlessly performed by the instructor. I had resolved there and then to master it when I was sharing the video and regretfully did nothing for a year.

 So Facebook reminded me of it recently and I was mesmerized all over again. This time I meticulously watched and rewatched it and penned down the sequence of the poses. The song is beautiful. Then I practised it multiple times before I finally remembered to apply the basic 8 counts for dance choreography. Ha! The whole sequence is barely 4 minutes but by the time I could do one time without referring to the video, I was sweating buckets! It felt so good.

 Today after 45 minutes worth of sun salutations, I decided to end off with this 舞极流 instead of savasana. Actually I have never forgotten my love for dancing but that has definitely taken a back seat now that yoga feels so much more accessible. As I watched myself performing it, trying to ignore all the wobbling, unpointed toes and wrinkled forehead, one word came through to me.

 Last month, I wrote down a Sadhguru's quote on devotion. Somehow it called to me when I chanced upon it even though I did not fully understand it. It just felt like something that I need, something I will benefit from. Precisely because I had never understood it or accepted it, or the idea of faith which is a close synonym to devotion.

I had rejected religion. That of the older generation. Another of a few of my ex-es. I have no problem seeing the goodness in religions but that aspect of pure faith or total devotion just does not gel with the logical me. Yet, I am not an atheist. I consider myself spiritual. But even spirituality seems to require faith and devotion. That I struggle with...

 

Devotion
Lustful looks of one who lacks love.
Loving touch of a heart that is soaked in the infinite will.
The tenderness of heartless devotion.
Vast beyond the measure of an ocean.
Barrenness of one who knows not the grace of love and devotion.
All this and more are the ways of the creature called human.
Choose my beloved to be an ocean of devotion.
~Sadhguru

 

However, watching myself doing what I love.... I am starting to get a glimpse. 

Perhaps devotion to me is movement.

 

The dissectologist's final piece

I have always enjoyed assembling jigsaw puzzles. I especially love puzzles with cats on them. I had so many completed ones, both framed and unframed, lying around that I had a hard time deciding what to do with them when I was packing for my move into my own apartment. With a desire to lead a more minimalist lifestyle, I did not buy any more puzzles and it has been 4 years since I assembled one.

During the Circuit Breaker and all the extra time social distancing at home, my hands (and mind) began to itch for a puzzle. In this climate of uncertainty, the prospect of a clear solution just waiting to be discovered is immensely alluring. Like cross-stitching and painting-by-numbers, it is also a healthier activity compared to staring at screens. I was so sorely tempted to get this particular one! 

Recently, I chanced upon a mini jigsaw puzzle giveaway on a blessing group and jumped on it! I could and would certainly give it away upon completion and pay it forward. I was also excited about the fact that this was a mini version such that the 1000 pieces will only reach A3 size. Talk about saving space, and I just have a thing for tiny, miniature stuff.

So the dissectologist, yours truly, got to work. I was really looking forward to the entire process from completing the frame to putting that final piece in its place, and that ultimate sense of accomplishment. In fact, I started to wonder which or where might my final piece be and muse about if there could be a significance to that final piece.. 🤔

My puzzle assembling skills are a little rusty that although I found the frame fairly quickly, my progress soon halted as I was getting distracted by pieces all over the place unsorted by colours. It was not the gratifying experience I was expecting. But herein lies the beauty of doing a puzzle, I get to decide when I stop for the day (unlike daily quests on my Two Dot game which leaves me no choice! 😂)

The following day I started by sorting the colours (which should had been the first thing to do after finding the frame!) and I did not want to stop. There is some real satisfaction in being able to recognise exactly where a particular piece goes, or placing a piece correctly by gut feeling. I was on a roll, grinning like an idiot with every piece that found its rightful place.

Before long, I could see that the final piece would probably be a green piece of a grass patch without any distinctive markings, not a blue piece of the water waves that looked indistinguishable from one to the other. So... green instead of blue huh.....

Except, my final piece was nowhere to be found. 

It was neither green nor blue or any colour because as I was searching frantically for the missing piece, I already forgotten which was the second last piece I put in place. I totally missed out on that thrill of the moment of epiphany when the whole picture reveals itself with the placement of the final piece.

The crazy thing is I was okay with it. If it had happened when I was younger, I would have cursed and  swore at the indignation, at the wasted time and effort to arrive at imperfection. But not today. 

Age does crazy things to you. Really had enjoyed the journey rather than focusing on the destination. 

And perhaps that was exactly the significance of this dissectologist's final piece.

Desiderata

This poem was written in 1927. I was today years old to have the fortune of being acquainted with it. 

Well, the first thing I had to do (whenever I come across texts that speak right to my heart) is to write it out by hand. I enjoy practising my handwriting and the whole process allows me to think more thoroughly about what I am writing. My favourite portion is the last three paragraphs.

My immediate thought was I wished I knew it when I was younger, when it would have helped, when I really needed it. But I figured I would probably not had been mature enough then to glimpse the gems within. 

desiderata (noun, plural) - things that are desired, wanted, or needed

Yes, the younger me would not be able to see that those are the things that are truly desirable, blinded the way I was by peer pressure, social norms and my own monkey mind. ... Immensely thankful that I now have some wisdom to be able to appreciate this prose-poem.

May this sharing brings peace to your soul.