28 posts tagged “conversations”

A summary of the reasons why writing Singaporean literature is so difficult, if not impossible, according to Joon and Yasmine, or why all the existing novels written by Singaporeans that we have read are so unsatisfactory.

1. The language. Singaporeans generally speak, well, Singlish, and even if we don't, we often mix languages even within the same sentence. As Joon pointed out, sometimes when we want to really express ourselves truly and honestly, we automatically switch to Malay even though we speak English 99% of the time. How do you translate "ghetto step kental", "YA ALLAH (must be all caps)", "amik kau ubat" and the hilarity of the word "snek"? How do you explain why the word "korek" is so dirty-sounding, when the direct English translation, "dig", is not? Or "sumbat", which means "stuffed"? You either write in English and sound really fake or write the way people really speak and alienate 90% of potential readers. Unless you can find a publisher daring enough to print a Singlish version of Trainspotting or A Clockwork Orange. Otherwise, film is a better way to portray the country.

2. The urge to explain everything about Singapore and living here. A lot of the Singaporean novels/short story collections out there cram all the cultural references they can into one sentence and history lessons into one paragraph. We picked up a book just now that had a story about a fashion student who was dyeing batik until "his fingers turned red, like a Malay bride's". So unnecessary. There are descriptions of HDB flats in all of these books. There is always, always, an old Chinese person feeling disconnected from their offspring, who were English-educated and don't understand the traditional ways. If someone takes the MRT, there will be a description of the cleanness and the crisp announcer's voice. At some point we have to stop telling and start showing.

3. A lot of these books have also been written by people who don't seem to know all that much about Singaporean life across all classes and ethnic groups, and hence have to prove their knowledge by dropping as many cultural references as they can. (We have insider knowledge that the author who wrote about chinese boys playing "sepak tawak" at community centres once asked a colleague, "Where is Yishun?") The authorial voice is always of someone from outside Singapore looking in, not of a local writing while living in Singapore itself.

4. Good grammar does not equate to good writing lah ok.

Did I leave anything out, Joon?

Canadian guy who is not black: I'm gonna get my black friends to beat you up. I'm gonna get my black girl friend to come and beat you up. She's big, she's gonna hurt you. You can't out-hustle the hustler.
Mari.am: In my language, you are what is called "ghetto step kental".

"Stop it! Stop IT! NOOOOO!!!"
"I want to smell! I want to smell your flesh! I want to smell your flesh!!"
"YOU FUCKING FREAK OF NATURE!"
Pause.
"You know, that pretty much epitomises our relationship. You vaguely threaten physical harm and I distrust you when you say you're not going to physically harm me."

"I'm ok with him as a human being. I'm not ok with him as... a person who talks."

Me: How do you braise chicken?
TR: What she just did.
Me: (Glares.)
TR: What?! I can't think of a clearer way of explaining what braising is.
Me: You know, on cooking shows, the chefs explain what they're doing verbally, they don't just cook and expect the audience to know what's going on.
TR: Yeah, but they're usually talking about their lives! "When I was in Bulgaria, my mother and father... Ok, now add some sugar. So you know, when I was raped..."

10 AM

Me: Last night I spent half an hour on my exercise bike and I didn't have dinner. I'm so proud of myself. Yup and I've decided that I want to starve myself.
G: Me too. But why do you want to starve yourself? You're so skinny, you'll disappear.
Me: Because I'm depressed. I want to be anorexic and hopefully die within the year.

12 PM

J: Ok so why aren't you eating? Because I don't really understand why you need to diet.
Me: It's not a diet, it's a hunger strike.
J: Right. And why?
Me: Because I want to waste away and die so that everyone will feel sorry about how badly they treated me.
J: Ok. (Turning to G) And what's your excuse?
G: Are you serious? Are you just saying that? Because that is truly how I feel right now.
Me: No I mean it. I'm really upset.
J: Ok but do you really have to starve yourself?
Me: Nah I just don't feel like eating when I'm depressed. I wasn't hungry last night.
J: You know most people eat more when they're depressed. Even when it comes to depression you just have to be different from the mainstream don't you?

5 PM

A: I feel like having nuts...
Me: Yeah they look good. But I can't, I'm on a hunger strike.
A: Why?
Me: Because I'm sad and I want to waste away and die so that everyone will feel sorry about how badly they treated me in this life.
A: Should I get cashews?

7:30 PM

J: MPA has called. They've lifted the embargo.
Me: Ok so put it in the bulletin.
J: Yeah I'm thinking it could be the 2nd or 3rd story...
Me: Put it first.
J: Huh? Are you sure? Lead with it?
Me: Yeah, put it first.
J: Ummm I'm unsure. This is such a bold decision. Can I call SJ first and ask her?
Me: Are you kidding me? I'm a fucking editor, listen to me. (I take over his mouse and do it myself.)
G: Yasmine is so smart. Look at that, she knows everything, she's brilliant.
J: I don't like hungry Yasmine. You're a meanie!
G: She's so smart, look what she's doing!
J: No, she's hungry and light-headed. She's not thinking straight. I'm not sure this is right! I'm calling M.us. (Calls M but he's driving and says he will call back in 5 minutes.)
Me: Why don't you be more like Ge.rrie and just say I'm smart?
(My editor calls J back)
Me: What did he say?
J: He told me to lead with it. And next time, listen to Yasmine because she's the smartest person here.
Me: Yeah right.
J: No, really.
Me: Toldja.
G: Expected!

9:36 PM

Just spent half an hour on my exercise bike and I am not having dinner :)

Director U-W.ei Haji Sa.ari during the talkback session after Wan.gi Jadi Sak.si, on the Majapahit royal:
"Dia kan datang sini. Kat sebelah ni. Dia lepak sini 6 tahun. Ada anak..."

At the Earshot café where the waiter/cook said his name was "Italiano Ristoranti":
- Actually dia comel jugak...
- Yeah! Aku suka lelaki cina. Especially those yang comel dan kelakar.
- I like flirting when I'm with you and Mu.na.

At Secret Recipe on Deepavali Eve:
- She's so annoying. "I want to sit with yoouuu!" We're 25 for god's sake.
- Does she have a boyfriend?
- No, but that's no excuse.

TR: I have a talent.
Y: Trolling!
TR: I have a talent for turning something beautiful into something evil.
Y: Yeah, trolling!
TR: Stop using that word. Only I can use it.
Y: Why?
TR: Because it comes from the Internet. Everything that comes from the Internet belongs to me. Like Google.
Y: Huh?
TR: Yes. You can take everything that comes from chicken. I own everything that comes from the Internet. Fair, right? Chickens came long before the Internet. 

Today my boss warned me about spies within the corporation and the government reading my blog, so of course I immediately felt compelled to blog.

Let's see... ok I'll start with how we terrorised the lone Christian at dinner last night.

F: I've seen with my own eyes this old man in a wheelchair, who didn't speak English, who didn't understand what was being prayed, what the prayer was for, stand up and start walking off the stage.
Sounds of incredulity around the table.
F: Well ok, it might have been a pact between him and the priest. It's between him and God to know.
SY: Ah, but did he walk home? Or did he take the bus?

Later...

S: Some of these kids who go to church really have no idea why they're going, you know. I was approached by a group of them once, and they were trying to preach to me. I asked them why do you go to church? And they said, "Sing song, see girls."
Y: Wow that's a great slogan! Sing song, see girls, love Jesus.
SY: Yeah, they should totally put that on a banner.

Later still...

F: It's against the law to proselytise to Muslims. They have special rights.

And then five minutes on...

F: Please feel free to say no, but I have these forms from my church...
Y: Ok I'm calling the police.
F: Ha! Ok feel free to say no. But you can fill up the form and write what you want us to pray for you for.
Y: I want money!
E: I want celebrity stardom!
We look at the form, which contains a checklist of things that you can ask for. These include things such as "financial freedom", "fulfilling relationships with friends and family", "intelligence". You were supposed to check the things you wanted, so that the church could pray that you get them.
Y: Oh my god, there's an option for Eternal Life! This form rocks!
E: We don't need intelligence, right? We're already intelligent.
Y: Yeah, and I have enough friends... I really just want money.
E: And I want to be famous.
F looks on in resignation. Eventually only S fills out the form, writing to the Baptists of Singapore, "I want fame and fortune."

I bought an exercise bike, second hand, over the weekend. Sorry Farah, I didn't want to wait until late June -- I am having a meltdown and I need to detox, like, now. Now we have a treadmill (which I despise) and an exercise bike in the house. I was telling my mother, we should start our own gym right here and charge our neighbours to use the two machines, maybe $5 an hour? Then they can get a massage on the negative-ion-generating mattress that my parents just bought, and that could help recoup the massive amount of money they spent on it. And maybe we could put the juicer to use to, you know, make juice to sell to our patrons. But like all other business ideas I have ever thought of, this one won't come to anything. Mainly because it's probably illegal? I'm not sure, and I'm too lazy to find out. Actually that's the main reason why my ideas never come to fruition.

I just realised on the bus today I'm probably going to have (another) nervous breakdown when I reach 40. Zen is just not on the horizon.

A Justin Timberlake song made me exclaim "Oh my God!" out loud just now, because of the lyrics:

Woke up this morning
Heard the TV saying something
About disaster in the world and
It made me wonder where I'm going
There's so much darkness in the world
But I see beauty left in you girl

At the third line I immediately thought of the tsunami and I thought this was going to be an attempt at social consciousness but then the sixth line hit me. Fuck, man.

Yeah I'm listening to FutureSex/LoveSounds. I can't tear myself away from What Goes Around Comes Around.

A few weeks ago my mum said, "Why don't we go to Phuket?"  I said, "No no nononono," because after Langkawi, you know, I realised beach holidays are not meant to be taken with my family. So I went to the Tiger Airways website, checked out the promotions and said, "What about Darwin instead?" and my mother said, "Your father says we shouldn't go to white people's country, they'll be racist towards us and treat us badly." Then today after working out I caught a bit of a travel programme on Arts Central and it was featuring Cappadocia, so I said, "It's Turkey. When are we ever going to Turkey?" She said, "Start saving money."
I said, "I have money."
She said, "How much would it cost?"
I said, "We could always set ourselves a budget. The only definitely expensive thing is the flight, the rest we can budget."
She said, "But with places like these we have to go with a tour group, we can't go by ourselves."
I said, "Why not?! I went to Cambodia without a tour group, I planned everything!"
She said, "Cambodia's different, it's easier to go by yourself. But you can't do that with Turkey."
I spluttered in disbelief as I wondered how to explain in the most succinct manner that a second world economy at the threshold of the European Union cannot be much more difficult to navigate than a third world Southeast Asian country fresh out of a civil war.
While I was doing that, she said, "Also your father says we should go with a tour group because the Turks will be arrogant and won't treat us nicely."
I said, "Hah? What? No! Why?!"
She said, "You know how Arab people are arrogant."
I said, "They're not Arabs!"
She said, "They're Turks."
I said, "Yes, and no country in the world is entirely arrogant!"
Ok so anyway the point of this is: I don't know how my mother lives with my father. He hates everyone. Everyone.