Honesty is the Best Policy... Or Is It?
The Singapore education system, or at least part of the syllabus, dictates that one has to impart the right values to the younger generation. And I am sure in many CME lessons (Civic & Moral Education), one has repeatedly heard about the need and the virtue of being honest - not lying. My kids are still young enough to admit their wrong-doings. Well, at least most of them - there are a few who need to be questioned repeatedly before they admit to their crimes. (And I am thankful for that - at least there is no need to argue in front of everyone else).
That aside, back to the title. Now, I have been an ardent fan of all those American drama serials - The Practice, Ally McBeal, Third Watch, Law and Order. And in many of these serials do involve a fair amount of time/ scene in the courtroom. The one whereby witnesses swear on the Bible to "tell the truth and nothing but the truth". Whilst no one is really sure if they are guilty or perjury or not, I have seen many cases where the truth is extremely twisted and so unwelcome. True, that may happen only in such TV serials, where everything is dramatised for effect, and many may say that no such action happens in our Singaporean courts.
But I find that even in everyday day, no one subscribes to this saying anymore. Not consciously, I am sure anybody polled on the street, would claim that one has to be honest, it is a virtue to be honest, one cannot lie blatantly. But not everyone is willing to live with the truth, and effects on one's psychological well-being upon knowing the truth.
I am one such example.
I adore reading, and for me, it's more about how a writer writes, as compared to the genre of the books. And I am an ardent fan of Gerald Durrell; I buy most of the books that I can lay my hands on (not easy considering that many of his books are out of print), borrow the dog-eared, tattered and torn copies from the National Library and chuckle to myself aloud in public when reading them. In case you are not familiar with him (which most people are), his books are generally first-person accounts - autobiographies of his childhood in Corfu, his animal-collecting expeditions, his setting up of his Trust Fund and zoo. Thus, it was with enthusiasm that I devoured 2 books on him - one, an authorized biography, and the other, an account of a week his good friend spent with him.
I became disillusioned. Or is enlightened the more accurate word to use here? I found out more about Gerald, knew more about his life, his interactions with people and his family. In short, I knew more truth about him than when just reading his books. It was a blow to me. I had totally enjoyed his accounts of his childhood in Corfu - the trilogy was amazing, and to me, it was paradise. I even wanted to go to Greece and visit that island because of it. It seemed as if there were no troubles, everything had a humourous twist to it and life was beautiful.
In fact, it was so perfect there that when he was forced to return to UK due to the WWII, suddenly, everything seemed so down and drab. Even I as a reader, when reading about accounts of his first job in a pet store, how he worked on a farm - somehow, even though they were also peppered with his iconic sense of humour that he always injects in his writing, I felt strangely depressed. I, too, longed for the sunny beaches of Corfu.
Only upon reading his autobiography did I realise how bad things were. It was not easy, even though the hardship did not reflect that much in his writings. And the worst thing is - being a famous author, writing books, to support his zoo, his goal was a chore to him. He viewed it as a means to support his zoo, to save the animals, and writing, was a last resort to ensure the survival of his zoo, and the rest of the endangered animals he had undertaken to protect. As a fan, I felt sick. It seemed as if I had been enjoying his books, at the expense of his emotional well-being. Somehow, that made me feel really sad.
In his accounts, Gerald always tended to gloss over the less than happy incidents, preferring to concentrate more on the animals he had seen, how they behaved and reacted to him. And while reading, I tended to do the same as well. It was only when I read in his autobiography, that I realised how many things were weighing on his mind then and how much trouble he went through. Even when writing about Corfu, where almost everything seemed perfect, and it was like paradise - I realised that in reality, his eldest brother Lawrence was not living with the family (as depicted in his books), but rather, living with his girlfriend somewhere else on the island, as they were having trouble with the family as well. Even in paradise - there was no real happiness.
In reading his books, I had painted a larger-than-life image and picture of him in my mind. If he were still alive, I'd be so eager and keen to go to Jersey and meet him personally. But the autobiography revealed aspects and characteristics of a man that removed him from my pedestal. Not that I am blaming Gerald, just that knowing the truth about a fantasy/ idol does hurt. Initially, I was indignant that the authors of the autobiographies could have painted such an unflattering picture of him. I was adamant that Gerald was wrongfully accused at first and the first week after reading them, I was still in self-denial. But I had to accept the truth. And it's not a pleasant experience.
The point hit home again when I watched "Finding Neverland". It was a movie I had wanted to watch desperately - so badly that I travelled all the way to GV Grand on the 2nd day of the CNY to catch it alone. It was good and so touching that I inevitably teared. But after watching that, I immediately wanted to find out more about J.M. Barrie - though I had never been a fan of Peter Pan myself. Lack of time prevented me from doing so - but upon reading a news article in the ST, disillusionment set in again.
The show was based on his life, and his inspiration for Peter Pan, but for the sake of having a happier ending (though I felt it was depressing enough already), they glossed out certain facts - that Sylvia Davis ( the mother of the 4 boys) was not a widow - her husband was still alive (wouldn't this relationship be subject to more controversy and gossip in reality then) and that Peter, the main inspiration for Peter Pan, committed suicide later in life (and was gay, if I don't remember wrongly). And all this news left an unpleasant aftertaste. Not that I am all morally upright and indignant about such facts, but it just serves to bring home the point that human beings like happy endings, we'd rather be ignorant about unhappy details that bring us down.
Is ignorance bliss? I personally believe it is, at least if the rest of the world are ignorant about a particular detail too. Is honesty the best policy? Not for me, I'd rather be blissfully ignorant of certain things, for one thing spoilt for me, means one less thing I can be happy about. And the list of that, is already painfully short.
Musings
Tons of things to do, but somehow, when I am home, I just feel like doing nothing, not least the work that's piling up steadily and quickly.
Random thoughts just flitted through my mind.
1. Should I resume my salsa lessons? Or more accurately speaking, should I re-learn salsa again? I arrived at this contemplation because I am partially convinced that should I ever get the special dance shoes (sports-shoes lookalike version), salsa would be a less painful thing for me. Really - try swirling/ turning on heels. Hmm, perhaps I need to listen to salsa music before I am fully convinced.
2. I really didn't enjoy what I was doing in my previous job. I firmly believe that there are many factors that influence one's perception about one's job situation. Read somewhere in an article that many of us don't have a job we totally adore, but there are several factors/ things that make it bearable, ok, likable, etc. It could be the boss, the colleagues, the pay, the things one does, the environment, etc. For me, I am just very grateful that so far, my supervisor (the person who observes me, checks my stuff, writes my report) is ok with me so far. Trust me, I have had bad relationships with my bosses previously - it sucks. And one does not even have to think about promotion - just trying to get your job done now is such a killer. So I should just be grateful, which I am.
3. I am splurging, over-compensating for what I deem as suffering. And the extent of it is bad. I have been buying so many things for other people and myself that whatever I earn is gone. Really, the CNY didn't improve things. I've paid partially for a chalet stay, paid for almost everyone's dinner, given red packets to everyone more senior than me, gotten tons of stickers, cute things, stationery for my kids and myself and splurged on food, cab rides, clothes. Oh dear, looks like I am really gonna be in a huge deficit now.
Feeling Down Under
How I wish I were in Australia right now.
Well, anywhere to get me away from me, and it does help that they are nearing spring over there in the southern hemisphere, which will also provide me with some relief from the scorching heatwaves here.
Everything had been going ok so far - well, several screw ups, but none revealed yet, so I am under the impression that everything is still alright. But had 2 conversations with friends last night, which jolted me back to reality. Or rather, just cast gloomy shades of black over me, staining everything I see with a shade of the darkest midnight black.
Apparently, my choice of career has not gone down well with anyone. Oh well, I suppose I'll never get out of this situation. As of date, I've had 2 friends tell me straight in the face that "I still think it's wrong." What the heck. Other reactions - "What?? She's teaching? It's not a short term career, you know" Yeah, I get everything bad, just short of people condemning the job, but I get all the caustic comments condemning ME, or my move. How absolutely confidence-inspiring.
And an ex-classmate is getting married - this July. Woah, that sure is fast. To a senior in her law firm. And when I express my surprise - I was told that one of our classmates has 2 kids, another one just gave birth.
Feeling kinda down now. Sighz, maybe I should just flee to one of those far flung islands and try to live there as a hermit. Life won't be so complicated then...
Happy Chinese New Year (though I'd beg to differ)
It's that time of the year again - for Chinese - supposedly the most important occasion of the year - the Lunar New Year. Methinks, it's an enjoyable festival only for kids. Really, and since the days of MY own childhood have long gone by, I am not in a position to enjoy myself.
If you are scratching your head in disbelief, trust me. I don't enjoy CNY at all.
Reasons being:
1. Prior to the CNY itself, there is the period of spring cleaning, with which my sis attacks the hse with gusto and the commanding of some highly ranked commandar of some commando unit. My mum and myself are mercilessly told to scrub, clean, arrange and do whatever chores she yells to us. To not do it would mean constant nagging, scolding, insulting, etc, I am sure you get the idea.
Which, to me, seems extremely fruitless. Cos, no one ever comes to my house to visit. Not that we like visitors also... but to drive people crazy over a spot is going abit too far. And all these cleaning will have to take place simultaneously as we are working, buying CNY stuff, etc. As a typical Singaporean would lament "Where got time????"
2. Reunion Dinner - it has long last its meaning for my family. Can you believe it? Basically, it's a whole day of slaving in the kitchen cooking food that I don't like (but have tons of significance), gorging oneself, and then having to wash every pot and pan that has been used and storing everything else in the fridge. Argkk, I don't like steam boat either. So far, today, I have been living off a diet of baked french fries, Coke Lite, Ritter Sport chocolate and cornflake cookies. I absolutely refuse to eat steamboat AGAIN.
And after the traditional reunion dinner...there comes the extensive cleaning again - the mopping of the floor, washing of dishes. Absolutely everything has to be washed and cleaned and stored before midnight. And last night, everyone conked out by 10 pm. Except me, and that's cos I was so tired I took a long afternoon nap and hence could not fall asleep, despite being extremely tired too. Talk about staying up late to prolong someone's lifespan... And the worst thing is - Mediacorp knew that everyone would be home - so they dug up all the crappy old shows for us to watch, knowing that we'd have no alternatives. So there was nothing on TV worth watching at all. Even Rat Race seemed so boring. Dun even mention the special tv shows they have for us - I hate those. It's so preplanned, packaged, commercialized...etc.
3. Visiting - every first day of the CNY, I have had to endure 8 hours of travelling and being stuck in the human jam in the customs to go across the Causeway, just to spend 2 hours eating food that don't really fit my palate in my relative's house. ARgkkk, yes, this is how I used to spend it every year. Absolutely horrific. Totally draining. This year, I told my mum that I am just too tired to go over..and I have to rest. I need it, if not, I'll get sick from exhaustion again.
But being spared that, I still have to go visiting - my dad's side of the family. See, how can anyone like CNY with all these obligations??
Well, so now, I am stuck at home, not being able to work (my mum has this thing about doing work on the 1st day of CNY - I am gonna start tmrw), not being able to catch any movies I like (all the movies I wanna watch are not being screened at the theatre near my hse - had to book a ticket for one tmrw morning at some godforsaken theatre. And the only things I have to eat are things I don't like (healthy ones like steamboat) and super fattening ones (like all the butter and fat laden cookies and sweets).
I am sure you'd understand why I have a less than passionate/ enthusiastic liking for this festival of the year.
Life sure ain't easy.
White Balls
Before anyone of you can think of any innuendos sparked off by the title, may I assure you that it is of no relevance to what I am referring to.
I tried to play pool yesterday night; for the 2nd time in my life. And may I proclaim that I did much better the first time I played it. I think I broke the record for the number of white balls I managed to get in for that night. The first 4 hits I got, were all white balls. And needless to say - there was penalty.
I would like to claim that I am colour blind - at least it will absolve me of most of the blame. Or if the game that we were playing had rules that dictated that the ball I hit has to get into the hole, rather than having to hit the white ball to hit another ball into the hole. Then, I'd be great at that newly thought-of game. Unfortunately, neither scenario materialised.
My friends were all hooting and cackling in laughter. I couldn't help but sink to my knees - I can't believe i am THAT bad. Sighz. I need practice. Mr P - can you be my teacher? hehe...
Serious, I need lots of that to prevent myself from plunging into the depths of public humiliation again. I don't even dare look at other people playing near us - we took eons to end a game.
