Service? Getting served would be more like it.

Ever encountered service so bad you felt aggrieved paying the service charge? I experienced it with my secondary school pals today. We were having dinner at Imperial Treasure at Marina. There were 8 of us, and after queuing for a bit, we found seats. Our orders were swiftly taken, and here was where the trouble started.

I have two friends who don't like chilli very much. They ordered the same item, and one of them said “少辣”, and the other said “不要辣”. We also ordered two side orders. Between the arrival of the first and last item in the same order, there was a waiting time of 20 minutes. This is not counting the time we waited before that till the first item appeared. Which meant that by the time the last unfortunate guy got his food, everyone else had finished theirs.

But that wasn't the worst of it. My two friends who had made special requests for less chilli, well, their orders arrived, and the two bowls were filled with chilli. There was literally a mound of chilli powder floating on the noodle soup in both bowls. You know, when people make special requests, they usually have good reasons? This was just farcical.

My friend had them double check the order. Apparently, the waitress had written "More spicy", and "Not so spicy". Like seriously what is wrong with these people. When we wanted to change the bowls, she said "Oh its okay, the one who wanted no chilli can take the bowl with slightly less chilli, and the other person can take the one with slightly more chilli." Slightly more my arse. There was enough chilli powder in either to kill a cow. What about I take the chilli powder and shove it up your backside. Okay maybe not, with you being such a pain in the arse, you might actually enjoy it.

It wasn't the best solution, but we were out to catch up, so we decided to leave it at that.

After that our side order eventually arrived, but only one did. We waited 20 minutes for the next one, before we were told "The second side order didn't turn out too well, so we have to prepare it again. Do you want to wait for it or do you want something else?" Fed up with waiting, we ordered something else, which took even more time to arrive.

After this entire incident, we were rightfully pissed, so we decided to call for the bill and leave. We waited another 10 minutes just to receive the bill, at which point we were like this is stupid, let's just leave. The moment they saw us leaving, the waitress immediately rushed over and asked us if we wanted the bill. Well actually yeah, didn't we ask you for it 10 MINUTES AGO?

It took another 10 minutes for them to swipe our credit card, so we decided no way we are paying the 10% service charge. Really, what service? We spoke to the cashier and she was like "No you cannot not pay the service charge."

Yeah right fuck you understand. We told her we wanted to see her manager. Her manager was more accommodating, and she said okay we can't refund you in cash but we can give you a $10 voucher for dessert. We were quite happy with that arrangement, because we were heading off for dessert anyway, so the group of us started celebrating the fact that we didn't have to pay the 10% service charge in front of the restaurant.

Then my friend saw a poster. He was like, "Eh, why does it look so familiar?" Here's a picture of the poster.
What the bloody FUCK. We were entitled to this voucher ANYWAY because we had spent a total of $102 on our meal. Which means the manager had just "refunded" us our service charge by giving us something we were already entitled to! And we were celebrating in front of this poster like a bunch of morons!

Obviously at this point, we were so angry, you cannot even begin to imagine. Not only had we experienced bad service, we had just been taken for a ride. We went back again to the manager, and we badgered her till we got our 10% refund in cold hard cash. Our bill then became $93, but we kept the voucher anyway. We felt we were entitled to it in light of their shitty service and devious trickery. It sure was smart, but we aren't that dumb either.

Even while eating dessert though, there was more to come. We were eating at Andersen's, and my friend decided to ask the waiter for his recommendation, because he couldn't decide. Here's the conversation.

Friend: Well, I can't decide between the brownie or the banana split. You work here, so which do you recommend?"
Waiter: "Well, it depends on your really, the brownie is very good, but then again, so is the banana split. Both are very good."

小二，老板付你薪水来讲废话的吗？不然，废话怎么会这么多？

You know, when we ask you for a recommendation, it is because we trust that you have enough brain matter and experience to help us make an informed decision. Humans have brains for a reason. Use them.

Seriously.

And the curtain falls.

I grew up listening to his songs.
I grew up wanting to sing like him
Dance like him
Get a crowd on its feet like him

The first song that I jumped around to
Even before I knew what it's name was
It was "Black or White."
And who could forget the Moonwalk in "Billie Jean"
Or the anti-gravity lean from "Smooth Criminal"
Or the peace anthem of the 90s, "Heal the World"
It was a beautiful song then, and it still is.
I might be more cynical now, but I still believe in it.

Now he's taken his place among the stars
As all the greats do.
The world will never see another MJ
But it can be thankful that he lived.

RIP Michael Jackson, 1958 - 2009, the "King of Pop", singer, dancer, composer, and performer extraordinaire.

Singapore and H1N1

It has been quite impossible to ignore H1N1 here. Singapore is certainly still living under the shadow of SARS, and as a result, they are taking extremely combative measures to battle its spread. It worked fine till June came and everyone took off for vacations to H1N1 affected areas and came back to spread the love.

Back in the UK when H1N1 first broke out, I never really felt the impact because the place was so huge and the cases were far apart. Right here, it's a happy breeding ground because no matter where you go, there's lots of people. You could get it from taking the MRT. You could get quarantined because a friend of your friend knows somebody who got H1N1, and he met that person, who met your friend, and your friend met you. Next thing you know, you're in jail. I had a joke with a friend once about being quarantined when I returned from the UK. When I talked to her yesterday, she was being quarantined, and I had just returned from outside. It would have been funny if it wasn't so damned ironic.

You start to realise that Singapore is such a paranoid country. It's like Singaporeans have never learnt to take it easy. I guess being surrounded by our dysfunctional neighbours in the north and south makes for a nation of paranoid people. Why else would we have terms like "kiasu" and "kiasi".

One person gets H1N1 here, and the next thing you know there's a press conference to assuage the minds of the locals, the health authorities roll into action and start demonstrating how to wash your hands the right way, all the shops start stocking surgical masks, principals start cancelling CCA trainings and after school activities, and companies start hiring cash strapped students to conduct temperature checks twice daily. School bus operators start disinfecting their buses everyday, as do taxi drivers with their taxis, the Straits Times gives a daily update on the H1N1 situation along with expert opinions from people who have never contracted H1N1, stories of survivors are paraded on the front pages, and people are quarantined and monitored on facebook, email and even twitter.

Big Brother is watching you. He even knows how many slices of bread you had for breakfast, and that you weighed yourself on the scale today and made a face.

Despite that, there are hundreds of cases now. Despite the reminders to be a responsible citizen if you've returned from H1N1 infected countries, to monitor your temperature twice daily and report to the authorities if there's anything unusual, we still got hit by H1N1, big time. You know what this means? It means it's time to go out and celebrate at The Butter Factory. Shit, it's closed? Oh, H1N1 broke out there too. Damn. Good thing I don't club.

My mom made me stop doing my stuff for 10 minutes yesterday to demonstrate how to wash my hands. I don't read any of the H1N1 stuff in the papers, because I'm totally convinced they play up the situation to generate sales. She even went to the extent of making me repeat the steps back to her. I was only half listening but I'm lucky I have a good memory so I remembered the steps and made her think that I was paying full attention.

To all guys, this is a lifeskill you should learn. To appear like you're listening when you're not. It's more important than anything you'll ever learn in school, because it saves listening to a lot more unnecessary nagging.

If anybody wants a tutorial, I can show you the 7 steps to wash your hands. I will guarantee that by the end of it your hands will be so clean, even air is dirtier. As for how to act like you're listening, it's a talent, and like any talent, it gets better with practice.

On an unrelated note, here's the video for WKWSCI's FOC 09.



Be a responsible citizen. Do not attend if you have H1N1 symptoms of any kind. I don't want to go to jail. I don't have $50 to bail myself out.

The Intellectual Snoob.

Amos referred this blog to me. Apparently it was featured on STOMP, and it's quite an entertaining read. I haven't read anything recently that amused me as much as it reviled me and gave me the creeps. The blog is here http://theintellectualsnob.blogspot.com/

The author of this blog is an "Intellectual Snob", which quickly becomes apparent when you read her profile. This is her profile on her blog, quoted ad verbatim.

"I read Political Science at Yale University and East Asian Studies at Harvard University after attending Raffles Girls' School and Hwa Chong Junior College. I love to observe the social behaviour of people I meet, and extrapolate their projected behaviour, verbalised thoughts, psyches in their deepest recesses of beings, muted mutterings, emboldened proclamations, naive starry-eyed notions and false bravado. I don't suffer fools gladly. While some say this is my biggest weakness, I believe it's concurrently my biggest strength. Because it's the cherished, icy ability to see things for what they are unclouded by misguided, socially enforced political correctness that gives me a crystal-clear vision of the world and the many fools that inhabit it. At the same time, it's tragic because it's the fools and jesters who know not who they are. Afterall, ignorance is bliss, they say."

She spends her entire blog slagging off the supposed inferiorities of locally educated students from her all knowing eye high up in the sky, beaming down upon us mere mortals in a mix of disgust and pity. Personally I would think being right at the top where she is must be a very lonely place, but she does not seem to want the company of mortals, because she is perfectly fine in her throne up in the sky throwing down divine bolts of judgment to strike the swine educated in local pig farms.

This is her take on local graduates.

"No critical thinking, no logical faculties, no linguistic flair, no presentation talent, no creativity and originality, no emotional sensibilities, no higher-order thinking skills, no intellectual foresight- these are just some of the more common symptoms in the poorly educated witnessed by the rest of society.

It is appalling, because these very same institutions relish making grandiose false claims about their standing, causing great embarrassment overseas among us when we are identified to be Singaporeans by our foreign friends.

There is no remedy, because the common people will always form the great unwashed.

My friends and I feel that this country's future does not bode well. It is possible that there are more stupid people in this generation than the last few. This is because of the multiplier effect. Even if the brilliant had the same number of offspring as the poorly educated, the poorly educated forming the bulk of the sample will spawn more below average minds, making their presence felt in more channels.

On a more microscopic level, it sucks because there are so many of them, one finds herself starved for deserving companionship and good conversation. I'm not even expecting them to be as intelligent as Nobel laureates in top universities we know. It's not often quantum physics or genome technology dominates casual conversations. All we ask from them is have brains of acceptably average IQ capable of processing simple information and even that is not possible with them."

It would be impossible to debate this person on the folly of her ways, because she apparently doesn't see anything wrong with it, but I'm reminded of a line from a Beatles classic, "Hey Jude".

"For well you know that its a fool who plays it cool. By making his world a little colder."

We may not be as clever, or as well educated as Miss Snoob. I would never profess to be, because I know where I stand, and growing up I've been immersed in a system where I've always had peers who were and will always be far more brilliant than I will ever be. All I know is, I'm happy where I am, and a person who spends so much time slagging off everybody else, she can't be very happy. I mean, how happy can you be if you thought you were stepping on dogshit every step you took.

The wisest man in ancient Greek civilisation, probably the first society of intellectuals, was Socrates, precisely because he made this statement.

"I know that I know nothing" (Ancient Greek: ἓν οἶδα ὅτι οὐδὲν οἶδα hen oída hoti oudén oída)

The greatest fool isn't the person who knows nothing, or the "great unwashed". The greatest fool is the person who thinks she knows everything, because then, she knows nothing.

"At the same time, it's tragic because it's the fools and jesters who know not who they are."

Honestly, Miss Intellectual Snoob, I couldn't have said it better myself.

It's Singapore, LAH.

It's weird to be back. Everything's all so familiar, and yet it isn't. I came back to my room and I was like "This is not my room. Where's my stuff?"

Now that I'm back, everyone wants a piece of me. I haven't really had any time to myself till now, 4am in the morning when I can't sleep, and everyone else is deep in slumberland. The first night I was back I had to entertain my cousins who had stayed over to welcome home the expeditioner from faraway lands. I was quite jetlagged so I don't think I made a very good host. The second night I had to eat supper with them. They ordered wanton noodles, oyster omelette, char kway teow and rojak, and they said "Eat." Wow thanks really but eating that much Singaporean food at one go is the way to make you wish you were eating fish and chips again.

Actually, no I did not just say that. Blasphemy! I have just cursed myself into a lifetime of eating potatoes and their ilk. My current attitude towards potatoes is something close to I want to take that darned tuber and just do something to it. The only problem is, if I shred it I get fries, if I slice it I get chips, if I squash it I get mashed potatoes. The angmohs really love potatoes. No matter what you do to them, they will still find a way to eat them. Damned tuber.

One question I'm constantly asked is "How was Europe? Was it fun? What's the most memorable thing about it?" I'm really sorry to everyone who has asked me this question because I've done a really bad job of answering it.

Here's my usual answer. "Oh it was really fun."

That's the kind of answer you give when you just came back from a trip to like, Johor Bahru. It makes you seem like such an asshole because you took so much money and went on a flight of fancy and all you say about it is 5 words. I tried explaining my trip, then I realised they didn't really have a frame of reference to refer to, so it was quite futile. One comment went down pretty well though. It was this one.

"You know how they say the French are rude? Yeah it's true. The French are rude bastards." To which the whole extended family reacted with laughter.

Actually, the Singaporeans aren't much better. This guy speaking is actually pretty potty-mouthed too. And on the bus, I overheard two uncles having a "chat" in Hokkien, which made me smile. I forgot how much I'd missed the bite of authentic Hokkien... pleasantries.

The next question I keep getting asked is, "Why is your hair so long?" I told my cousin I was keeping it long so I could empathise with what it was like having long hair. She dismissed it as my usual rubbish. My aunt thought it was cool. Well, I think it's cool too, only that the weather is seriously making me feel like a haircut is necessary so I don't die from being overly furry like a Siberian husky. My dad was more direct. He thinks it's gay. He just flat out told me "Long hair does not suit you."

Wow thanks dad. Way to go. My mom even had to chip in "I think when the angmohs saw you they must have been scared. Why this guy hair so messy like some homeless person." Alright, that was really kind of rubbing it in already. I've decided that first thing tomorrow I'm going to do something about it.

Tomorrow, because I spent today looking over the skyline of Singapore.
High above on the Singapore Flyer.

=)

Pfft.

I was looking for baggage lockers at Heathrow so I could dump my heavy bags while I took a walk around to buy stuff, because I'd arrived too early to check-in. Being utterly unfamiliar with the place, I somehow stumbled into the section for passengers requiring special assistance. I asked the staff there if they had any idea where I could find baggage storage facilities and they gave me a blank look. Maybe it was because I wasn't in a wheelchair so they couldn't figure out how to help me.

As I was turning around to leave, a British girl rushed right up to me and asked "excuse me what does this word mean? do you speak japanese? what is this word?"

She was pointing at the word for rice "米“, so I told her that word meant rice. Then she went "So my name is RICE?" My Japanese name is RICE?!

"No, that's just the meaning of that word. What's your name?"
"Emilia"
I looked at the Chinese characters scrawled on the piece of paper.
"艾米利亚“ (ai4mi3li4ya3)
It was a pretty good fit.

So I told her "It's the whole phrase, that's your name. The Chinese do it that way." I then pronounced the whole thing out for her.

What happened next was totally unexpected. She went like "Okay you're like super cool! You speak like Japanese and Chinese. Alright thanks!"

I only have one thing to say. For the last time, I am not Japanese!

Cheers. It's been one hell of a ride.

It's funny how all good things always come to an end, too soon. Just exactly 5 months back I was sitting in my room in Singapore, packing my luggage, full of trepidation, and yet secretly excited. I did not sleep much that night.

Now I'm sitting in my room again, over 6000 miles away, packing that very same luggage bag, and I don't know what to say. I don't even know how to describe what's happened to me over the last 5 months. Normally, I would call it the time of my life, but I don't want to jinx that. I believe the time of my life is yet to come, so I shouldn't say that or it will all go downhill.

I've walked along the beaches of Barcelona, traversed the countryside of Italy, and walked down the Champs Elysees. I've seen the girls in the windows at Amsterdam, strolled in the gardens of Prague, hauled myself into a night train in Budapest, and watched an opera in Vienna. I've visited the English towns of Windsor and Bath, climbed atop a hill in Edinburgh, the highest churchtower in Porto, and I saw the harbour where the Titanic was built in Belfast. I visited the Cadbury factory in Birmingham, fooled around as a leprechaun in Dublin, and ate Swedish meatballs in Sweden. The last is nothing much I know, but Stockholm was so boring I struggle to find something to remember it by.

All this came to an end in Berlin, and atop the Reichstag I looked out at the Brandenburg Gate and gave thanks that I've been privileged enough to have been given the chance to experience this, to have backpacked across a continent and met people from all over the world, something many of my peers will probably never get the chance to do.

And I look back at the pictures from my earlier trips, when I was new to everything, from the first few times I visited London, to my first trip to Belgium, and I see how much I've changed. I really miss those times, because in them I had an innocence in traveling that made me go "wow" at everything, before I became "Eurojaded". I will always remember the first time I went to London and was utterly confused by the Tube system, or how I had to navigate the labyrinth under Charing Cross station as I struggled to find the exit to Trafalgar Square, the first place I set foot upon in Central London. Or how excited I was when I saw a pond of swans and ducks in Belgium, or rows and rows of chocolates waiting for me to sample them.

Somehow, I do miss that person I once was, but I know that person is gone, replaced by someone who has had his eyes opened to the workings of the world. This experience has been humbling, to say the very least, because I've come to see that the world is not just about Singapore, and it's not just about me.

And I know its the little things that I will miss the most. Like opening my window in the mornings and taking in the cool morning air. Hearing the different strains of music playing out of the different windows in my hall. Watching the locals go about their lives. Eating in the cafeteria on Indian food Thursdays amidst the hustle and bustle of other students and staff. Taking a walk to the supermarket to buy groceries for the week. Taking the bus down to London for a walk about town.

I will even miss sleeping on the bed in my hall room, or sitting in this very seat that I'm on as I type this. The very same seat I've slumped into as I returned from countless other trips, utterly dogtired and happy just to have Internet access again.

Everything's all packed now. I've been typing this line by line even as I packed items into my luggage.

I'm ready to leave.

Berlin (13/06/2009 - 15/06/2009)

"Berlin! Berlin! Wir fahren nach Berlin!." ("Berlin! Berlin! We're going to Berlin!")

Reaching Berlin was on many levels a personal triumph for me. First of all, I very nearly didn't make it here because of a disastrous airport mixup back in Barcelona, but that's another story.

Secondly, of all the European cities, I really wanted to see this one, because it had the most turbulent history, and just 20 years before, it was impossible for me to have walked across the Brandenburg Gate because the Berlin wall was still in place. Well, I was 3 years old then so I'd have probably stumbled across, but that's not the point. It was also poignant that I'm non-Aryan, and I'm walking free in a city that once housed madmen who deemed killing non-Aryans perfectly normal.

Lastly, this was the last leg of my solo trip, and also the last holiday destination of my exchange, so if I had survived somehow all the way to this point and still had enough money and energy to have a blast, I knew that I would end this exchange on a high.

I did have a good time in Berlin. In slightly under 3 days, I traversed the whole length and breadth of Berlin, even heading into the outskirts in the North and South to Sachsenhausen Concentration Camp and Potsdam. I basically walked till my feet were blistered in 3 or 4 places, covering distances of up to 15km each day, and I got even more chaotah. But it was worth it, because I knew my experience would be been lesser had I taken the easy way out and skipped places.

Day One
Brandenburg Gate. A symbol of unity and all that is German, it is probably also the most iconic symbol of Berlin.The Jewish memorial within Berlin. The uneven height of the stones made it extremely fun for me experimenting with the self-timer on my camera. I know, it's not supposed to be a place for fun but I'm a tourist.
The former site of Hitler's bunker. Well, what do you think of its new purpose?
A segment of the Berlin wall. Checkpoint Charlie, the former border between East and West Germany.
The Reichstag made entirely out of chocolate. Gendarmenmarkt. A square with the concert house, the French cathedral and the German one, the German one identical and opposite the French one but of course a little taller than the French one because this is Germany. My guide proclaimed this the most beautiful spot in Berlin but I found a nicer looking one later.
I found it extremely funny that this church was dedicated to Saint Hedwig. A CS joke I know but its still damn hilarious.The History Museum and the TV tower, the former symbol of East Berlin, in the background.
The Berliner Dom at Lustgarten, next to the Museum Island. I think this place was prettier than Gendarmenmarkt, but that's probably because I prefer greenery and fountains.
The East Side Gallery. A grittier Berlin that what most of us expect, but no less important. This 1.3km section of the Berlin wall is the longest preserved section of the original wall, and it is the heart of Berlin's underground scene, with political messages aplenty.Some girls adding their own messages to the Berlin wall and taking a picture of it afterwards.This made me think. Simple in delivery, yet what a message.A unusual bridge spanning the River Spree.

Day Two
The Reichstag. The seat of Germany's government, and the theme of endless WWII games where you had to clear this building. It was really unreal to see this thing in real life and realise I'd spent hours shooting Germans out of this building in Call of Duty or Medal of Honor or something.

Sachsenhausen Concentration Camp - I won't post many pictures of this place because it made me sick to the core. However I will post the more important pictures so you can see for yourselves the kinds of conditions people were made to endure.Arbeit Macht Frei - Work makes you free. The same sick and empty phrase that marks the gates of Auschwitz-Birkenau and other infamous concentration camps. This was the first real concentration camp, set up in 1936 outside Berlin as a model for others to follow, both in its design and treatment of prisoners.The guide giving us a talk about the place. Behind her is the former roll call area, where prisoners had to stand while their numbers were individually called out. On a particularly cold winter night of minus 20 degrees, over 180 prisoners lost their lives on this square, dropping dead as they froze to death, because all they were given to wear was one layer of blue striped pyjamas.
Conditions inside one of the barracks, each housing 400 people. The whole place was covered in filth, simply because there weren't enough toilets, and people were squeezed together on the bunk beds 3 to each bed, and the remaining prisoners were stacked on top of each other on the floors.
A marker for one of the destroyed barracks. The stones above represent stones left by other Jews. Jews have a custom of putting a stone to mark places where Jews have died. The grounds of the prison within the prison, where inmates were subjected to "special treatment", out of sight of the other prisoners. People were hung from these poles from their arms bound behind them, so that as they were beaten on these poles their arms would eventually be torn out of their sockets.The foundations of the former execution chambers and the crematoriums. The Germans would kill people, then loot them of everything that could be used, their tooth fillings, their bones, hair etc. They even sold ashes to rich Jews requesting remains of their relatives in the camps, but of course whose ashes those were was dubious. The Germans made a profit off every prisoner killed. Small wonder they had money to finance their war effort.
The worst building in the camp, the Pathology lab, where terrible medical experiments were done on people. It felt awful to just be in that place, because even 60 years on you could still smell the antiseptic, and buildings that old aren't supposed to smell like anything. It was literally, the smell of death. When the guide told us to head down to the cellar mortuary to take a look, all of us actually hesitated because nobody really wanted to go down there. I won't post the pictures I took inside because I feel uneasy even looking at them now.
A quote left by one of the survivors of the camp.

Potsdam - City of Palaces
This place used to be the palace grounds of the former Kaisers. However, the Germans still haven't found enough money to restore all the buildings, so come back in 10 or 20 years really, or you'll just see a lot of scaffolding. It is a common story throughout Berlin actually, because so much of the country was bombed in WWII they are still raising money to restore all of the historical buildings.The first and last pictures are the main palaces of Potsdam, the Schloss Sanssouci and the Neues Palais.

Day 3
A bombed out church, partially restored and then left as it is to serve as a reminder of the effects of war in Berlin.
I walked into Tiergarten, the biggest park in Berlin, and right into its heart, the Siegessaule, a tall tower that overlooks Berlin, crowned by a golden angel on top, the same angel that crowns the Bradenburg Gate.
This tower is actually the site of the annual Love Parade, a gay festival, as a picture in its museum attests.However, I was to see something very different. Note how empty the road leading up to the Bradenburg Gate is.I walked right into a strike by taxi drivers all over Berlin without realising it. The strike was mainly peaceful, but it sure was quite an experience. The moment the drivers saw me taking pictures they started unfurling their banners, and shouting slogans at me.I decided to queue up to get to the top of the Reichstag because I hadn't the time the last 2 days, and while in the queue I was entertained by this group of mimes with their act. Basically the 5 of them would control different body parts, and they would move them according to the actions they wanted. It was really good, and I was amazed at how coordinated it all was. Of course it wasn't free, but I was happy to tip them at the end.
The guy on the right has the longest handlebar mustache I've ever seen on a person in real life. I was utterly fascinated by it. He reminded me of Josef Stalin. Haha.Snapping a picture in the roof of the Reichstag. I liked the mirror effect. I know, boliao.The top of the roof.
The glass roof of the Reichstag from the outside. Wurst :-)
Currywurst :-)))
What is currywurst? The best thing in Berlin. Ridiculously expensive here, so I'm going to make my own back in Singapore. It's a chopped up German sausage in ketchup with curry powder over it. So easy to make, yet it tastes so darned good. I bought one at every single currywurst stand I saw. That's probably where all my money went.