The Singapore That I Know And Love

There were many moments that I had enjoyed with Singapore's 50th National Day celebrations.  I loved to watch as the night sky lighted up with fireworks that lasted awhile longer than usual.  I loved  the spectacular aerial display performed by our Air Force.  Even my social media feeds seemed more colourful than usual.  Plastered cross all social media platforms, were photos of the Marina Bay Sands, skyscrapers at the central business district and people togged in the flag colours of red and white.  

You know, I thought about how much I enjoyed the aerial display by the Black Knights not just because they were technically superb but because even when the sky was grey and threatened to rain, the crowd stayed for hours to wait for the jets.  This was typical of Singaporeans, determined, tenacious and resilient.

This is a picture of the Black Knights taken by Joel right at the start of their aerial display on National Day. As you can see, the weather was bleak. 

And this was one taken by David when the Knights were practicing their moves about a week before National Day amidst sunny skies.

While I appreciated that the  pictures of skyscrapers, concrete skyline and airplanes told a story of how we had evolved from the backwaters of political and economic instability to a country that is stable and full of  economic opportunities, what I had appreciated most was that our country was more than this concrete jungle of urbanisation.  It left plenty of room for our children to ride a bike in the park, enjoy a stroll by the river, fly a kite at the barrage, have a picnic at the beach, jog through the park connector and admire flowers at the gardens.  My Singapore was more than Marina Bay Sands and the financial centre.  It was a clean, green and colourful garden city.  The transformation of many of these spaces had inspired creativity, promoted healthy living and encouraged more quality family time. When I looked  out of the window from my office which is situated within what one would call a concrete jungle,  I could see a a lot of joggers, yoga practitioners,  and cyclists enjoying their respective  activities by the marina.  

So instead of sharing pictures of skyscrapers and Marina Bay Sands the way most of my friends across social media had done, I have decided to share pictures of the better, greener, side of Singapore.

Another thing I appreciated about my country was that it was a safe haven for us. My family and I could walk on the streets at night and leave our car and front doors unlocked without fear of getting robbed.  I could accidentally leave my wallet in the taxi and would promptly get a phone call from the taxi-driver asking where he would like my wallet to be delivered to.   My nephews would not be allowed  to get off the school bus without my cousin waiting for them at the driveway.  It offered me peace of mind knowing that my family is thriving in a safe environment.

I remembered  Dad  offered to send me to London to pursue a Law degree so that I could have a professional degree and not a general one.  Instead I chose to stick with my plans to study English and Political Science at the National University of Singapore and eventually enjoyed a successful  career in marketing and public relations. That is Singapore for me. I appreciated a country that afforded me great economic opportunities defined by how hard I had worked for it, and not what I had studied.

I just sold my car recently because I did not need one.  I loved how this country was connected with efficient public transport from one end of Singapore to another.  Sure we had occasional train breakdowns and pre-booked taxis that had not shown up at the appointed time but generally, I got to where I needed to go quite promptly and without worrying if train, bus or taxi drivers were about to go on strike.

 I had fun watching a very unified sea of red at the marina barrage where locals and foreigners alike were spotted wearing  t-shirts emblazoned with "I Love Singapore".  I appreciated all the efforts made to  actively promote tolerance and unity within this melting pot of many different races, religions, and cultures.  Children in school celebrated racial harmony day annually.  It meant a lot to me particularly when my own family was  a United Nations of different races and the three of us each had different last names, Ash, Ong and Lee, which made conversations with immigration officers at certain airports quite interesting.

This, ultimately is the Singapore I had come to love. Within this tiny red dot, we appreciated each other's differences and even celebrated them. We learnt to laugh at our different quirkiness, yet we are banded by our unique lingo, "Singlish",  our unique Singaporean behaviours, our unique Singaporean food, our unique Singaporean unity when faced with tragic circumstances, international sports events or celebratory events.

These are some of the photos of a multicultural Singapore that I love.

I have got family across the globe, in the UK, the U.S. And some migrated to Australia and Canada.  However, for me, Singapore is ultimately where my heart is.  Home, is where the heart is, isn't it?

Being a Singaporean made this post a bias one. So I thought that it would be appropriate for me to quell this bias view of my country and share the exact words of my friend K, a Burmese who had lived in Singapore for a long time. These are her words:

"I don't expect public transport to be perfect. Machines do break down after all. But how amazing it is, that almost every inch of Singapore is going to be accessible.  In Burm! There is almost no paint left on some buildings, that might even erode the structure. Here, I see HDB walls being repainted just because they look dull, and the paint isn't even peeling.

 I have had my fair share of security scares, but on the bright side, I know I won't be raped and 'cat-called' at just by walking down the street.  

I love my Kopi. Even the 3-in-1 coffee mix can't replace that special ingredient of love brewed by my coffee aunties and uncles at the local coffee shops.

I also love that we are becoming more compassionate and less 'robotic'.

I could go on, but the point is that, with everything that the country has given us, wouldn't you say that it's only fair that we could look at  giving back whatever little we can?  People always complain about SingaBORE. But it's not boring if you don't let it get boring.  Be a volunteer perhaps. Give your time to society."

K did volunteer her time with the SIngapore Armed  Forces Voluntary Corp.  I have so much respect for her and she isn't even Singaporean.

Photos in this post were taken by David Ash, www.singaporemaven.com as well as Joel Lee.

About The Writer

The writer of this blog post is a Marketing and PR professional for over 20 years.  Due to her love for Mixed Martial Arts (MMA), she is also a freelance sports writer on the side, contributing MMA-related articles to several sports media.  She works in partnership with her husband, David Ash, who is an avid sports photographer from www.singaporemaven.com.  She is passionate about Muay Thai and nurtures a dream to fight competitively one day when her coach stops making fun of her.  She is also a psychic intuitive by birth and runs a consultancy that does tarot and numerology readings under her brand, Sun Goddess Tarot.  This blog is affectionately called "The Crazy AngMo" as she is married to one, although she has not yet explained to THE Ang Mo that when translated, he has been labeled  “the bloke with ginger hair”.  

A Slice Of Happiness At Work

As I was browsing through my Instagram feed yesterday,  I spotted a photo of my friend, Glenn at his workplace.  The photo showed a sea of happy faces. His colleagues were clearly enjoying a lot of camaraderie.   The sheer joy in that photo was infectious and I felt so happy, not only for Glenn, because of the passion he had injected into his job at his new workplace, but also the inspiration it could potentially create for others who were "looking for a slice of happiness" in their jobs.  When I remarked about how much happiness there was in that photo, Glenn replied that that happiness existed because "I love my job."  

How many times have you been at work, riding up the elevator to your office with a fellow colleague in the morning and you might ask, "How's work?" and he or she might reply with deadpan face and in Singlish, "Llike that loh...."  That truly annoyed me.  How could anyone come to work early in the morning, clock in 10 to 12 hour days, and feel absolutely no passion for his or her job? 

I had often advised my staff that if they felt that they were losing passion and zest in their jobs then they had to question what value they were bringing to the company.  If they found that they were gradually losing interest in their jobs, then they should be thinking of ways to re-define their roles, and re-shape how they could add value to their jobs.  Nothing, however, could be an excuse for not injecting passion into the job.  Once you lose that passion, it would be time to leave for a new job.

I love my job. I enjoy what I do everyday.  Whether I had spent time and effort making  decisions to help shape the company's business strategy or nurture my team to develop them as solid public relations and marketing professionals,  I truly enjoyed what I do daily.

The icing on the cake would be the great relationships between members of my team that were founded on trust, open communication and sincerity.  Today, this sisterhood of a team worked very hard and played hard too.  Both within and outside the office environment, I see a lot of passion and team camaraderie.

The team's happiness, like Glenn had rightly inferred, is ultimately because they all loved their jobs.

We look forward to going to work every morning, because we have so much to share, so much to tell each other, and so much to do together. Hell, we even enjoy going for girly trips together.  It's definitely a sisterhood, isn't it?

About The Writer

The writer of this blog post is a Marketing and PR professional for over 20 years.  Due to her love for Mixed Martial Arts (MMA), she is also a freelance sports writer on the side, contributing MMA-related articles to several sports media.  She works in partnership with her husband, David Ash, who is an avid sports photographer from www.singaporemaven.com.  She is passionate about Muay Thai and nurtures a dream to fight competitively one day when her coach stops making fun of her.  She is also a psychic intuitive by birth and runs a consultancy that does tarot and numerology readings under her brand, Sun Goddess Tarot.  This blog is affectionately called "The Crazy AngMo" as she is married to one, although she has not yet explained to THE Ang Mo that when translated, he has been labeled  “the bloke with ginger hair”.  

My Brother And I

My Brother

 

My brother is a funny character. He lived in my shadows as a kid trying to be like his sister, but I used to toss him aside like a rag doll because to me, he was a pain in my butt. I thought my parents doted on him more than they did me. He was like the quintessential hallmark of an Asian home - the much needed boy in the family to carry on the family name.

 

We Are So Different

 

So we grew up pretty much apart not just because we were 11 years apart in age but because I felt he was loved more than I was, I grew up as an over-achiever, attempting to prove my worth through my grades at school and at piano exams, and through each successful milestone in my career.   My brother's grades at school was less than stellar.  His earlier career stints were lack-lustre. I brought home trophies and certificates of achievements. He would be lucky if he remembered to bring home his pencil case.  I was notorious for being the school bully. He brought home complaints about being bullied in school.  When I signed up to be in the pioneer batch of the  non-uniform military officers program at the army more than 25 years ago, I went head-on into a life of discipline, camaraderie with my mates in the army and plenty of physical activity.  Apart from failing topography, I did enjoy that short stint in the army.  When my brother got enlisted into national service, the first thing he asked was, "Will there be an umbrella provided in the full pack?"

 

My Brother’s Love For Life

 

I realised through time that my parents never loved me any more or less. As parents, they just strove to provide my brother and I with whatever was needed so that we could live life with a purpose.  As time passed and eased that age gap a little more, I also noticed that my brother was just happy being himself, living life not with the intent of proving anything. He just wanted to enjoy every moment that life had to offer. 

 

Appreciating Our Differences

 

We weren't brought up any differently. We were just different.  Our perspectives on life were different.  My brother never took life too seriously, but to me, every minute wasted in useless banter, was a minute wasted in what I could do, earn or gain. 

  

My brother was happy just being himself. He walked through life enjoying every minute of it through food and travel. In fact, he actually ate the world.  Every city he travelled to outside of Singapore, and every neighbourhood he visited in Singapore were all driven by his love for food.  Food and travel were a nuisance to me. I agonised about the hassles of travel.  I worried incessantly about the amount of calories, fat content, and nutritional value of everything I ate. I used to think traveling was a waste of time and I wouldn't do so unless there was a purpose, be it work, writing assignments, workshops that I had to conduct, or for boxing or Muay Thai training.  When friends asked if I had gone on a vacation. I did not understand what that word meant.  While I lived to work, my brother on the other hand worked to live. 

 

 

I haven't quite lived and I haven't quite embraced the love for life till very recently when I grew up enough to let go of that ego that had shaped me since I was young. Through new glasses of maturity, I had come to accept that it was okay for my brother and I to view the world with different perspectives and celebrate life in our different ways.

 

Our New Blog

 

So I started a new blog, with the help of my brother. It is a blog that represents the different ways we both enjoy a common obsession - Food. Although we are siblings who grew up 11 years apart, shaped by differing experiences to see the world from different perspectives, we celebrate our passion for life with our common love for food.  However, our attitudes to food are quite different and the way we celebrate our love for food are also quite different.
 

Jerome lives to eat and hoovers everything edible that crosses his path.  As he shovels food into his mouth with that fork in his right hand, he takes photographs of what he eats, and posts pictures and notes up on Facebook with his left.  Often, his beautifully written prose about what he had eaten would be 7 paragraphs in length and would not have any punctuations in between because he had been too busy multi-tasking. 

I, on the other hand, eat to live. It is not just about my attempts to eat healthily. As I am a “cam-whore” and “social media hussy”, I spend about half an hour styling my food, taking photographs, writing notes and posting them across my social media platforms before eating them, right after the hubby has paid for the bill and is about to head out of the restaurant.  I enjoy reading all my posts about what I had eaten because I know that I had lived fully in spite of watching what I eat. 

 

It took me 35 years, to finally learn how to live life with genuine passion from my brother who does it better than I do.

 

About The Writer

The writer of this blog post is a Marketing and PR professional for over 20 years.  Due to her love for Mixed Martial Arts (MMA), she is also a freelance sports writer on the side, contributing MMA-related articles to several sports media.  She works in partnership with her husband, David Ash, who is an avid sports photographer from www.singaporemaven.com.  She is passionate about Boxing and nurtures a dream to fight competitively one day when her coach stops making fun of her.  She is also a psychic intuitive by birth and runs a consultancy that does tarot and numerology readings under her brand, Sun Goddess Tarot.  This blog is affectionately called "The Crazy AngMo" as she is married to one, although she has not yet explained to THE Ang Mo that when translated, he has been labeled  “the bloke with ginger hair”.  

My Love Hate Relationship With Bacon

After 2 years on a fitness journey, I now lead a more health and fitness conscious lifestyle and consequently lost about 24kg in weight after 11/2 years.  It was not an easy journey as I had learnt to be more disciplined by embracing a no-sugar, no wheat, no processed food diet combined with 6 days a week of training at the gym alternating between strength training, boxing, muay thai and sprints.

 

However, I do have a weakness for bacon, cake, ice cream, pasta and bread.  Amongst these, I have a love-hate relationship with bacon and cake. I tried to talk myself into this “sustainable diet” storyline, by allowing myself 1 cheat day a week.  However, my coaches and trainers wouldn’t have it, simply because after a cheat day on Sunday, I would return to training on Monday extremely sluggish, with the smug trainer barking in my ear, “Get a grip, Jo.”  After slapping me with a lot more reps of high knee sprints, extra minutes on the skipping rope, a hundred more burpees and more rounds of that dreaded bear crawl, I was asked to detail my meals every single day and post them, complete with photos, on a private Facebook group so that the rest of my skinnier, pallid and malnourished gym buddies can critique what I had eaten.  For a while, I returned to my sensible ways, though from time to time, I pined for cake and bacon.

 

I mulled about the “sustainable diet” storyline again.  I wanted to revisit the credibility of that storyline because that love part of my love-hate relationship had gradually grew to become a burning passion which manifested itself as sleepless nights, sudden and erratic angry outbursts and cold sweats when I walked past a cake shop or scanned the brunch menu at some of my favorite restaurants. From time to time, I would give myself a treat after a more intense week of training at the gym.  While I could not afford a weekly cheat day, I thought a rare treat once in a while would still allow me to get right back on track without too much of a dent on my coach and trainers’ efforts.

 

So last week, I dropped in at a new restaurant that had just opened about a month ago, called OMB or Oh My Bacon at 7 Dunlop Street.

 

This bacon-themed restaurant, a first in Singapore, was a haven for bacon lovers like my husband and I.  To him, bacon was “MAN FOOD”.  To me, being a PR professional, bacon was a “nutritious strip of protein filled with the goodness of choline which helped support brain health, and comes complete with vitamins B1, B2, B3, B5, B6, B12 and minerals like Selenium, Phosphorus, Iron and Zinc – all good stuff.” 

 

Moreover, I learnt that the good folks at OMB were so smart, knowing that there were at least thousands of other people out there with the same love-hate relationship with cake and bacon, that they had decided to invent the Bacon Brownie.  It did sound weird initially when we were recommended Bacon Brownie on the menu.  However, I did not question the oddity because I thought God had answered my prayers by combining the 2 together to stoke that flame in my heart for cake and bacon.  My man on the other hand, was looking at the dish quite suspiciously and whispered, “This is not right.  It is like having dessert and main course together.  It reminds me of the Singaporeans I have seen at the buffet tables who stacked their plates with noodles, jello and cake all at once.”    I finally urged him to be more adventurous and take a bite. He loved it.  The salty sweetness of that Bacon Brownie reminded me of salted caramel ice-cream.  In fact, speaking of ice cream, there was even bacon ice cream and you could ask for a scoop of that on the brownie!  I have to say, the Bacon Brownie was one of the best desserts I have ever had. It was moist and not too sweet.  I did get a taste of the bacon in it, though I must say, with or without the bacon, that delicious brownie was a winner.  The portion was definitely shareable so I did not feel an ounce of guilt. For the record, because we visited the restaurant on Fathers’ Day, they served all fathers a Bacon Brownie on the house, and even gifted my man a beautifully packaged jar of chamomile tea.  That thoughtful gesture really made his day.

 

David Tan, the Bacon Ambassador, and his Lady Bacon, Yenni Ng were the faces of OMB.  Beyond running the restaurant, they were earnest about getting to know their customers better.  When we got talking, David found out about the fitness journey that I had embarked on these two years and started scrutinizing his menu for items that I could eat. He suggested the Bacon and Egg Cups and proudly declared, “No gluten.”  So we ordered that, and polished the plate in 10 minutes. The plate of tiny Bacon and Egg Cups which came on a bed of crispy rosti was an appetizer portion, so one need not feel guilty about having a cholesterol-laden meal.  As the portion was small, I felt even less guilt.   The Bacon and Egg Cups were delicious. I managed to convince myself that they earned the right to be its own food group and with so much protein on that plate, my trainers surely had to approve it.

 

Next, my Bacon Ambassador suggested that I try the Bacon Bomb. Again he proudly declared, “Definitely shareable too and also no gluten.” The Bacon Bomb was like a meatloaf wrapped in strips of bacon. As I was on a low-carbohydrate diet, he opted to remove the side of mashed potatoes and laid my Bacon Bomb on a thick bed of rocket leaves and cherry tomatoes.  “The trainers will be proud of me for eating my vegetables.” I thought.

 

Although the Bacon Bomb did not look like too large a portion as it measured about 3 inches by 5 inches, I thought the dish could be shared amongst a group of 3 or 4 persons.  Now, the Bacon Bomb is heavenly. It was moist, well-baked and definitely paradise on the tongue for Bacon lovers. So this dish should be on the “must order” list.  I would suggest that if you paid OMB a visit, this should be the first dish you should try because there is a lot of meat in it hence it was very filling.  

 

Like most outstanding restaurants in Singapore, the winning formula for OMB was not that it was a bacon-themed restaurant.  OMB is bold and brazen and unashamed of what it is passionate about, and it was passionate about people. David Tan and Yenni Ng took time out to get to know their customers better.  They were passionate about making them comfortable and catering to their needs.   No matter where one stands when it comes to individual quirks about health, or whether you do eat pork or are vegan, they would creatively think of ways to customize the items on the menu to suit one’s needs.  My no wheat, low carbohydrate demands were satiated because they did not take the easy way out by suggesting that I just munched on a strip of bacon, or worse, point to the exit.  They made suggestions with every dish as to what they could remove and replace just so I would not miss out on their fabulous bacon concoction.

They understood that Bacon was a natural mood-enhancer for considerably stressed executives like us (According to Visual.ly, the umami in bacon is an addictive substance that has a neurological impact on the brain - http://www.baconismagic.ca/guest-posts/bacon-is-healthy/ ). So, they tapped into a market where diners just wanted “a whiff of that aroma and a moment of heaven”. It was like Starbucks when it first landed on our shores.  Who knew that Starbucks’  purpose was not to sell coffee? It sold a moment, the Starbucks Moment. And God knows, how many moments I had bought when I just wanted an escape from the pile of workload in my in-tray at the office or when the boss cheerfully declared a month of no-travel so he could give us some loving attention.

 

So I would highly recommend a visit to OMB for that much-needed bacon fix. Bacon is happy food and guaranteed to ensure your spouse does not walk around you on egg shells when you are on a diet and need a temporary “happy food fix” from time to time.

 

More information about OMB can be found at https://www.facebook.com/OMBsg

Note: I was not paid to write this review.  It was written objectively and all opinions expressed are solely mine.

About The Writer

The writer of this blog post is a Marketing and PR professional for over 20 years.  Due to her love for Mixed Martial Arts (MMA), she is also a freelance sports writer on the side, contributing MMA-related articles to several sports media.  She works in partnership with her husband, David Ash, who is an avid sports photographer from www.singaporemaven.com.  She is passionate about Boxing and nurtures a dream to fight competitively one day when her coach stops making fun of her.  She is also a psychic intuitive by birth and runs a consultancy that does tarot and numerology readings under her brand, Sun Goddess Tarot.  This blog is affectionately called "The Crazy AngMo" as she is married to one, although she has not yet explained to THE Ang Mo that when translated, he has been labeled  “the bloke with ginger hair”.  

 

Bacon And Egg Cups

Bacon Bomb

Bacon Brownie And Ice Cream

Dark And White Chocolate Dipped Bacon

The Ties That Bind

I re-read a post that I had put up across my social media platforms a few days ago.  “For David and I companionship means that we are Team Ash and Best Friends first and spouses second.  He was my rugby coach and remained one of my biggest inspirations both on and off the rugby pitch.  That is why we even worked so well together as a sports journalism team.  When we are focused on our respective day jobs, we are each other’s mentors when work gets tough and we always pat each other on the back when we have done something fab at work.  Friedrich Nietzsche said, ‘It is not a lack of love but the lack of friendship that makes unhappy marriages.’”

I was rather proud of myself for writing that because it was not something I had consciously thought about. However, when I looked back on the things we did as friends about 17 years ago and then as spouses for the last 14, nothing much had quite changed whether we were single or married.  We did so many things together and were almost inseparable, like fish and chips.  I was convinced that Friendship was what glued this partnership together.

 We respected each other’s quirks and individualism.  To him, I was the “woo-woo” weirdo who flew into his life on a broom.  To me, he was the Scottish jock who couldn’t speak a word of intelligible English which helped made communication within our little familial unit much better as most of my responses were “uh-huh”.  We were inspired by each other’s gifts and saw ways to put them to positive use together, like his photography work and my writing.  We enjoyed sports.  Ok let me be specific.  He enjoyed the excitement of the games played in some of his favorite sports and I enjoyed looking at some of the blokes who played those sports. We always found things to talk about beyond our respective jobs simply because we both led lives that revolved around a variety of interests.  We understood what was important to each other and made these an important part of our own lives, which brings me to the topic of Joel.

You see, David is more than a step-Dad to Joel.  If he had just depended on his role as a step-Dad to cement that relationship with Joel, they wouldn’t have been as close as they are today.  Again, the glue that helped to foster that closeness between step-dad and step-son was not this father-son relationship but Friendship.  They did things together as friends, he gave advice to Joel as a friend would and they had numerous man-to-man chats as friends that I wasn’t allowed to be part of. When one made a mistake, they helped to cover each other’s tracks…literally.  Once David finished a photography assignment at the rugby pitch when it was raining very heavily.  He left a muddy trail across my living room after hauling the photography equipment in.  When I got home from work, Joel said “It’s that stupid dog again. He’s been playing out in the rain.” 

So you see, my home is a regular YMCA. It’s a home that’s deeply entrenched in the belief that the strong bonds of true friendship, inspired by trust, honesty and opened communication is what makes this a strong family unit. 

About The Writer

The writer of this blog post is a Marketing and PR professional for over 20 years.  Due to her love for Mixed Martial Arts (MMA), she is also a freelance sports writer on the side, contributing MMA-related articles to several sports media.  She works in partnership with her husband, David Ash, who is an avid sports photographer from www.singaporemaven.com.  She is passionate about Boxing and nurtures a dream to fight competitively one day when her coach stops making fun of her.  She is also a psychic intuitive by birth and runs a consultancy that does tarot and numerology readings under her brand, Sun Goddess Tarot.  This blog is affectionately called "The Crazy AngMo" as she is married to one, although she has not yet explained to THE Ang Mo that when translated, he has been labeled  “the bloke with ginger hair”.  

Mothers And Daughters

Unwavering Commitment And Undying Love

I loved to dote on Mom. I enjoyed pampering her with gifts and lunch treats as often as I could.  In the words of my Dad, handwritten in a handmade birthday card for Mom a couple of years ago, she had taken care of him with "unwavering commitment and undying love".  Indeed, she had taken care of the entire family with unwavering commitment and undying love. So, I would never hesitate to take the day off from work to spend the day with her, call her in between my meetings at work just to ask her about her day, and surprise her with gifts from time to time. What I could do for her was nothing. The amount of sacrifices made would not even come close to those that she had made for the family. This woman's "unwavering commitment and undying love" was not reserved only for Dad, my brother and I. She rendered it generously to the rest of her family, particularly Grandma.  That is why, as  I grew up and became successful, I had always put Mom above everyone and everything else.  All I wanted was to be able to take care of her and make her happy.  I wanted to wipe off every wrinkle from her face, the tell-tale signs of the struggles she had suffered during her younger days.  

These are just some of the stories of her past that I had picked up recently.  I did not want to make the mistake I did in the past when I finally shared stories about Dad when it was way too late.   I am sharing these stories today as my belated Mothers' Day tribute to the strongest and bravest women in my life, my Mother and my Grandma. 

The Engagement Ring

On 11 August 1968, Dad and Mom got engaged to be married.  I flipped through the dusty family albums to get an insight into that occasion.  It was a day filled with so much happiness as they exchanged engagement rings and  promised each other a future of marital bliss and eternal love.   A few days ago, I spotted Mom wearing the engagement ring and proceeded to remove it from her finger to play with it.  The underside of the white gold band was inscribed "E. Nah - 11 August 1968". I thought that was rather odd.  That had to be Dad's engagement ring, wasn't it?   When one exchanges a wedding or engagement ring, wouldn't the inscription within the underside of that ring be that of your spouse's  name and not your own?  

I then asked Mom,"Where is your engagement ring? Isn't this Dad's?"  Mom then proceeded to tell me that shortly after her engagement to Dad, she gave the ring to Grandma so that the latter could have it pawned in order to have some money to feed the rest of the kids at home.  Grandma had 6 kids including Mom. It was a difficult life having to raise 6 kids post war, on my Grandpa's meagre earnings as a clerk at the university.  Mom said it was a matter of survival for the family. She felt that as the oldest sibling about to be married, while she was one less burden on my Grandma and Grandpa, Mom felt that it was her duty to help the family out when they were in need.  Dad knew nothing about the pawned engagement ring and neither did anyone else within the family.  It was a secret shared between mother and daughter.   I felt compelled as the daughter and granddaughter to finally let the cat out of the bag within this blog post because it was to me, a symbol of my mother's "unwavering commitment and undying love" shown towards her family.  If I were put in the same position, pressured by those circumstances, I would have done the same. It is this special unspoken mother-daughter connection underlying our relationship and her own relationship with her mother, that no one else on earth could ever understand.

The Hairdresser Duo

Today, during lunch with Grandma, I spoke to her about the engagement ring. She  shared even more stories from the past that underscored this special mother-daughter bond.  Grandma was a trained hairdresser.  At the family's home in Serangoon Gardens then, she had put up a sign that said "Hairdresser" at the front of the house.  Many women living in that area would visit the home to have their hair washed, styled and permed.  Grandma and Mom who had helped her then, would sometimes suffer from skin irritations on their fingers because of the hair treatment lotions they had to use in the course of their work.  When times were really tough and money was tight, Mom would help Grandma to pack the curlers, combs, pegs, pins, hairnets, lotions and hairdryer into a little old schoolbag and travel across the village neighborhood to sell their hairdressing services. They were "hairdressers making house calls".  Serangoon Gardens then was a village where many British military personnel and their families had lived.  So many of these women who had their hair treated by Grandma were wives of British soldiers.   My Grandma and Mom were such an enterprising duo.  They even took IOUs on payment for the hair treatment sessions because some of these women could only pay them on Thursdays when their husbands who had worked in the British army, got their weekly salary.  I was completely amazed at the thought of this dynamic mother-daughter team gallivanting across the village neighborhood with their little schoolbag, driven by circumstance to become entrepreneurs.   Again, it is this unspoken mother-daughter bond that inspired so much strength and courage to keep the family going, sheltered, fed and schooled.

Never Go Hungry

Grandma also spoke about how she would never allow the family to go hungry. Even with little or no money, she would open a pack of vermicelli that cost 40 cents then, and fried it with a couple of eggs and soy sauce.  That would feed the family of 6 kids and 2 adults very well. If there were no vermicelli or noodles to be found in the cupboard, she would fry a little pork lard in some oil, mixed that with rice and soy sauce and whipped up a delicious rice dish for the family dinner.  Grandma was so resourceful. She had no choice then when poverty struck, but she assured me that the family was a very happy one.  I know, because Mom, no matter what, had always embraced life with positivity. If Mom was a chip of her block, I was truly grateful that Grandma had been critical in inspiring that positivity and courage in my mother.

Today, Grandma and Mom are closer than ever. Everywhere they went and everything they did together, be it playing up a storm at their weekly mahjong games with friends or enjoying a buffet lunch uptown, I would see the same two women walking across the village neighbourhood with their little schoolbag filled with hairdressing tools. 

I love my Mom and Grandma. I wished I was as strong and brave as they were.  I am just a wee shadow of their giant selves, because what they had brought to the table were their unwavering commitment and their undying love for the family.

Respect.

About The Writer

The writer of this blog post is a Marketing and PR professional for over 20 years.  Due to her love for Mixed Martial Arts (MMA), she is also a freelance sports writer on the side, contributing MMA-related articles to several sports media.  She works in partnership with her husband, David Ash, who is an avid sports photographer from www.singaporemaven.com.  She is passionate about Boxing and nurtures a dream to fight competitively one day when her coach stops making fun of her.  She is also a psychic intuitive by birth and runs a consultancy that does tarot and numerology readings under her brand, Sun Goddess Tarot.  This blog is affectionately called "The Crazy AngMo" as she is married to one, although she has not yet explained to THE Ang Mo that when translated, he has been labeled  “the bloke with ginger hair”.  

My Beautiful Grandmother And Mother - Sometimes Looney But Mostly Sweet

Dad's Engagement Ring - He Didn't Know Mom's Been Pawned.  I Hope He Understood Why.

The little schoolbag full of hairdressing tools looked something like this.