Wednesday, December 31, 2008

2009

What does 2009 mean to me? Doesn't quite herald much at this point of time... if anything, it signals the end of 2008, a year I am most reluctant to let go of!

Am currently packing my room, just realised it kind of makes it seem like I'm packing for the new year... but I'm not. I'm packing for my peace of mind... and to unclutter my presumably cluttered mind of 2009.

I want to throw a fit so that 2008 remains, but I am incapable of throwing one and 2008 will go. I entrust the new year into God's hands.

Mood: Pensive, reluctant

Sunday, December 28, 2008

CAMPIONE


It is way too soon to speculate, but I'm really thinking now that Liverpool might just win the long due league trophy this season. It will be our 19th, and a resounding reminder that we are the best team in the land. 

And we haven't had Fernando for most of the first half of the season... 

Keane is starting to come good, but he isn't starting. Gerrard has been ever-reliant, ever-inspirational, every bit Captain Fantastic... Alonso regaining the form reminiscent of his first season here... Reina hasn't put a foot wrong, his distribution has been top top top class! Riera far exceeding everybody's expectations, supplying from the left with aplomb and trickery aplenty. Hyypia turning back the years, such a towering, imposing figure at the back... and at corners! Kuyt running off pairs of socks every game he's played... that's probably every game. 


Stevie G holding aloft the league trophy come May... I'll be a very, very happy fan and then I'll study hard for A's. 

I blog funny today, because I haven't done so in a while. 

Piknik

(photo courtesy of Jemimah)

Long time

Camp Christmas

Ohana:





The Sim juice that courses through your veins. When all are found wanting... they're waiting. Family, complete or not, is still family! 

Thursday, December 25, 2008

The Gift goes on...

and all you have to do is accept... really!

Merry Christmas everybody! To me, Christmas is not merry merely because of the lights and sounds, laughter and fun... but because of the joy of the redemption that was given unto the world this day with the birth of our dear saviour Jesus Christ.

Saturday, December 20, 2008

Personali-tease

I have a dozen personalities, and I get rather confused over what I really am like sometimes. Take today for instance, I reckon there were 4 different me's. Or maybe they're just emotions. Whatever it is, I'm just glad that I've got my values and beliefs grounded.

Friday, December 19, 2008

Türkiye

Tuesday, December 16, 2008

Dreams... dreams of you and me


You, the girl of my dreams. You, the adidas factory outlet that had beckoned ever so seductively at I who was trapped within an unfeeling, relentlessly bus guzzling avariciously (lol I thesaurus-ed this) on the neverending, meandering road ahead. It's odd, I've taken my blogging to true journaling - that is writing with pen on paper. 

Right now, I am on te coach, as I have been for most of the days (most of the time of the days, everyday that is) and I am listening to the music on my phone (the Turkish music playing from the speakers onboard are... not quite my taste, unsurprisingly). Song playing through my inner-ear earphones (that block out 70%? 80%? of the surrounding sound, thankfully) is "Love it When You Call" by The Feeling. Good, cheerful, uplifting song while the coach navigates through the dry highlands located within the bowels of Turkiye. It is 340km to Istanbul, a good few hours of coach-riding before we reach our final stop of the trip. It's been quick-going, these days (fortunately?),  aided by the sun setting at 5pm (it is 4.15pm now by the way, I'd better write quick). My tailbone area is a little sore, I've probably clocked at least, and easily too, 40 hours on my bum including the 10 hour plane ride. It's been a long time I've preferred standing to sitting! I've been rather different that way - amongst other ways I've been different. 

Recently I'd imagined myself being better at talking to adults. Well I do hope it's not my imagination, for I'd quite connected with 'em elders like I've never before recently. But having been on this trip with a group whose average age I'd gauge at 40-ish, I finally understood why people claim adulthood extreme boredom. The past few days have been as dour days I've had in recent times (the past year perhaps), I haven't had a good laugh on the trip (save for from 4-4-2 magazine) and I've just been hanging around my phone, my cap, my Life is Good hoodie and souvenir shops all selling the same things! It's been such terrible dullness at times I think I might have teared in boredom or torn my hair out - it was that bad!

I hadn't quite recognised the generation gap that existed between my mum and I till now. (It is 320kim to Istanbul now by the way, and it's beautiful, the scenery - just past by a valley of pine tress and snow-covered ground. Nice.)  It isn't that  my mother isn't cool... or that I am way too cool (hmm... perhaps I shouldn't be ruling this out). She's just cool in a different sort of way, in the sense that she grants me an immense load of freedom, relative or not. She doesn't quite appreciate my kind of music though, and conversation between us doesn't quite come easy. 

During this time I've found seventeen a most odd age to be too. Perhaps it is exacerbated by me not being the most proactive socially on the trip, but I've found talking to adults on the trip not quite the easiest thing to do, or at least the connection is hard to establish. Well, I just don't quite enjoy talking to adults right now, for they seem to have a certain zest and fun sucked out of their souls (:0). There are three kids on the trip, and I can't quite get myself to bother about them because you know, I'm at a grand old sagely age of 17 and besides they've got the sec 1 girl to entertain them. I only go into CEC mode when required, as with most other modes. Now, into zzz mode I go!

- written on a coach steaming through vast fields/barren hills/snow-covered ground on winding roads, which sorta accounts for the utterly boring writing. 

Housefly, Timefly, Butterfree

Just spent a good ten, twenty minutes swatting at two of the largest houseflies I've ever seen. Am spending the night at Otel Yurdaer, an art-themed, cuisine-centred hotel located by the highway linked to Istanbul. The radiator in the room is well heaty, and when I opened the window to let some cold air in (probably a couple or so degrees, or maybe sub-zero woots), these two houseflies dove right into the room (which by the way, is far from luxurious, but passable by hotels-by-the-highway standard I guess). Broke into perspiration lumbering round the room, shoe/makeshift-flyswatter in hand. Smashed the bigger one (size of big toe nail) while it made the none-toowise move of landing motionless on the mirror for some time (perhaps not quite classifiable as a move). Housefly inerts lay smeared across ze mirror. The other housefly (size of thumbnail) now hovers about the fluorescent light overhead, and i will not sleep in peae until it is d-e-a-d. 

*takes a sip of Sirma mineral water which is of pH6.95*

 written lying prostrate, which sorta accounts for the lethargic writing. FYI, smaller housefly did not die in the end, for I just... slept. 

Monday, December 15, 2008

Took a Turn in Turkey


It is most queer. Today is the fifth/sixth day of my Turkey trip and I am most puzzled that I have conducted myself the way I have for most of the trip. As with most days,I discover more about myself each day, and I have figured myself out a wee bit more these few days. 

Turkey hasn't quite been as exciting or fun as I had originally thought, but her people are as unfriendly and dangerous-looking as I had imagined, and the places as barren and undeveloped as I had envisioned. It is fortunate the days have past as fast as they have. 

Yet it is not all doom and gloom, although I am indeed disappointed with the behaviour I have exhibited for I have been as much of a teenager in the past few days than I have ever been, and this scares me. I'd always delighted (albeit meekly and secretly... not so now perhaps) in the fact that I was atypical of the stereotypical teenager - didn't quite subscribe to the trends and cared nary s hoot about most things that mattered to teenagers. Was strangely blissful throughout my secondary school years and sought not the need to be given breathing space and to emo. Because circumstances were such that the teenager in me wasn't reeled out. 

In the past few days however, loneliness and utter boredom have brought out the teenager in me! It is most strange that there is not a single other teenager in my group of thirty four. There's a sec 1 girl, but she doesn't quite count and she's not the sort I'd have lots to talk to about anyway. So I have pretty much been enclosed within my teenage bubble the last few days, and it has been good in some ways, but mostly not good. 

(And oh yes, I've been wearing a cap through the trip which is quite poseur and teenagerish, but it's really to conceal my bad hair which on days seem cool from the front but quite a disaster from the sides/back.)

It is most unlike me to seclude myself and retreat to a corner listening to music, but it is what I did today for I was really bored to tears listening to yet another Turkish salesperson pitch his product. 


- written on a coach steaming through vast fields/barren hills/snow-covered ground on winding roads, which sorta accounts for the weird writing manner. 
 

Monday, December 08, 2008

Good move

"Good Move" is a section of the line of clothing that is Life is Good... you could check it out here if you want to. Unfortunately denizens outside of the United States of America are unable to purchase Life is Good merchandize over ze net... yes I am just as gutted. Well there's always Velocity at Novena Square, but the range is rather limited there.

Well if anyone's feeling that someday you'd want to bring a little joy into my life, I'm eyeing this, any of these, this, any of these, this, or this.

Ah, material comforts in all their temporal glory. Okay, but I think Life is Good is a really cool brand and I quite like browsing through their sight. Pity the shipping is a problem though.

Hmm well came back from my morning run not too long ago, head is a wee bit woozy still... my fitness is horrible haha. Weather was great though, it was somewhat nice running through the drizzle and gusting winds, at least initially, before thoughts of catching pnemonia a day before heading overseas forced their way through the wooziness into my head. It was good though, now I'm dry and eating watermelons and the heat from the laptop is keeping me nice and warm. The swirl and swooshing and buzzing sounds of the washing machine is somehow comforting too. My mum is hanging around town right now waiting for me to join her... doing some last minute shopping before leaving. For me it would be my Christmas shopping because from now till then I'll be away and at camp. It's great that I'm so occupied these holidays, I am such a happening person.

Oh I wanted to write about my run this morning. Well initially I'd wanted to head to the gym and do some statics seeing the rain, but once I stepped outside the coolness of the weather totally willed me into having a nice, cool jog. If you haven't noticed, I'm horribly equipped for the heat that consumes Singapore most of the time. So I thought the pleasant chilly breeze would spur me to run like I knew no fatigue. Well, I tired out.

So I headed towards the nearby Buangkok Green Medical Park (previously known as the Institute of Mental Health, and perhaps more well-known also as Woodbridge Hospital, Ban Qiao) where there was a relatively more charming jogging trail. Well any dedicated jogging trail sure beats running parallel to exhaust-emitting, menacing traffic and cars containing envious passengers staring out at extraordinarily fit joggers.

So I thought that perhaps the lush surroundings and enchanting nature around me would perhaps spur me on to speeds previously unknown... but I trudged on, immensely bothered by the pace at which I was passing by the posts marking out each 200m, and the betrayal of the trees which had promised to be just pleasant shade, for they now showered torrent after torrent of after-shower on me!

The weather... the surroundings... they couldn't quite cajole me to leap and bound. Then I approached the portion of the jogging trail which had past the swaying trees and vast expanse of fields... and now ran parallel to the fenced-in corridors of the medical park... of which the mentally unsound were free to roam.

I was fearful that they would shout and hurl abuse at me, for my impression of most of the mentally unstable was that they were beings of rage, of violence and of bloodlust. I even prepared myself mentally for some raving lunatic to scream and shout at me, and made sure that I wouldn't be too unruffled by such an incident happening, for I was rather afraid of being taken aback and taking a tumble haha. Yes it is most unfortunate that I had thought this way. It is all I have been exposed to, but now I know.

So I saw the first inhabitant of BMP, and I prepared myself for the worst... he was sitting down. He saw me, raised both arms... and said hi. And then he smiled.

My defence mechanisms were immediately thrown out the window, and I smiled back as best I could (now even though some say I can't quite smile), and hollered back a "zao an!"

And I leapt and bounded the next 200m of the round!

The next round, I saw the same man, and he was glad to see me too. This time he left his bench and came right up to the fence. He asked for my name, but after that I didn't quite get what he meant (perhaps why he's in there)... oh and he was Malay too.

Good start to the day, will leave my house for town now!

Dream a little dream of who?

What does it mean... when someone starts entering your dreams? Help, I'm no longer just dreaming of Liverpool winning the Premier League this season!

Thursday, December 04, 2008

1.00

I want to eat crabsticks, I will eat crabsticks.

Wording

Recently I put together some words in the dead of the night for I was inspired- by what I don't know. And I don't wanna let it slip away into the archives haha, so I'm putting it up here again. It's called "Fools love" hehe don't ask me why I wrote it... I wasn't quite me in the dead of the night... I'd like to think I was Gnow Kered hahaha. Okay this is most odd. Yes I am a very weird person... at times. You might have read it earlier, but I don't wanna let it slip away into the archives so I'm reposting it hahahaha.



Fools love

Off the edges that brim the depths,
Off the security of certainty in a lone heart.
Oft the hearts of sages rim with death,
And into Man's collection of heartbreaks they log their part.

Into the murky darkness of love the bold enter -
Hearts in tandem, they plunge as one.
Yet these are hearts that feel no fear,
For they are hearts in tandem - the battle's won.

Off the edges that brim the depths,
Off the security of certainty in a lone heart.
Oft the hearts of two hurtle, perhaps
Into dangers yet conceivable by a single heart.

Into these unknown dangers the twin of hearts enter,
Hearts in tandem, they wield sword and shield.
Yet these are two hearts that stumble in fear,
For though they are hearts in tandem, each can feel still.

This is love and its most queer nature -
Hearts go a-fluttering to heights that top the tallest peaks...
Or plummet to hellish levels that sear.

Yet always it is love that all fools pick -
Fools with no armour and paucity of gear.
Fools who at a love's gaze grow weak.
Fools who for a love lost would tear,
Fools whose hearts are so bound- vulnerable to each prick.
Fools who have thoughts impeded and minds unclear,
Fools who for a lover's eyes a lifetime they seek,
But will us fools ever find somone so dear?

-Gnow Kered, on love but not in love. 29/11/2008

Sometimes we forget,

that we are less than what we are,
that we are more blessed than we are.
That the distance must remain,
and the human impulse... we restrain!

-Gnow Kered, a musing me.


I should sort out my room, it's in a horrible mess! About time I did too, been putting it away far too much, since post-promos. Let's see, tomorrow I'm busy, Saturday I'm out, Sunday morning it shall be then! That's if I wake up early... oh and to fuss over Camp Christmas too! Lots to settle, got to get my life back in order... soon.

-Derek, amusing me (by amusing me I mean I try to amuse myself, I'm not saying I'm amusing).

#609

Am currently panting like a dog... it's nice to have blood pumping through my veins again... if only it didn't take so much out of me... phew.

I know I have grown up when...

I read cornroll's archives! Haha I really cringe when I read my posts of yore. Yore isn't quite the right word, but I think it's cool so there you go haha.

Wednesday, December 03, 2008

Laos.

Today my sister departed from the Budget Terminal for the country that is Laos. She will be backpacking there for 12 days with a friend and I won't be seeing her until the 19th because I will be leaving on the 9th with my mum too. I think I might miss her, and not just because I now have to settle my own meals, wash the clothes and take care of the rabbits. Yes I know I am utterly useless at home, as well as everywhere else. Haha.

And today I remembered to feed the rabbits at night upon my mum's reminder, but I almost lost Sharpi while he was hopping around the house and then Scrappy decided it'd be fun to take a dump (and out came like what, 30 pellets of excretion!) outside of her cage. Tsk, these rabbits. If they weren't so cute I'd be having rabbit stew one of these days.

Woo, and I'm off to sleep now. And it's queer you know, rabbits never seem to sleep. See, the finer things in life they don't appreciate.

Tuesday, December 02, 2008

To care

It's tiring to care, and caring could well be a full-time job. People who cared could be called.... carers. Or friends.

Monday, December 01, 2008

My Grandmother, Wee Kim Yean

Today I attended the cremation of my grandaunty, known all this while to me as "Mm". She was my grandfather's sister-in-law, and even though I did not know her very well, I did see her each Chinese New Year hustling about her house serving new year goodies to visitors. I'd visited her a few months back on her hospital bed, and even then she was still highly alert and mentally sound. It was hard to imagine her as an unresponsive corpse, but I saw her through the glass panel of her coffin today.

I've been talking to adults more than I've ever had in my life, and talking about things that matter a little too. Last night at Mm's wake I talked to my first uncle, Uncle Davy, proper for the first time. I asked him about his children, he asked me about my studies. We talked about his becoming a pastor, his education experiences. We talked about my spiritual life, we talked about things we hadn't talked about before. It was nice knowing my uncle better. Last night at Mm's wake I too talked to Auntie Nelly, one of the two daughters of Mm, cousin of my mum. She had flown over from Auckland to attend to her mum months back, and now she's flown over to attend her mum's wake and funeral. It was refreshing talking to her too, I talked to her about the possibility of studying overseas, asked what it was like living overseas. All I heard was good, and I am excited at life and its possibilities. Perhaps I will now think more on what I might take in the U - meaning I will now think on what I might take in the U.

The morning today was spent at Mm's last rites and cremation. It was a sobering experience for me, and it was good I went, for I had a choice actually. It got me thinking about death and the brief flicker of light that is life. Mm, also known as Maria, was Catholic in her living days and it was interesting for me to attend a Catholic funeral too. At the HDB void deck where the funeral was held, we first sang hymns which were totally unfamiliar to the Christians ones I know. I listened, and tried to understand the lyrics. And Catholicism is really as some people describe it as, rather similar to Christianity, yet vastly different. Recently I've been questioning the differences between the two.

When we went to the Catholic church which Mm and her family attended, I was quite surprised by the splendor of it. The building was really modern and rather posh too, and we proceeded to more hymn-singing and prayers which I listened to but did not partake in. It was interesting to see how Catholics worshipped, for I'd never been to any masses conducted while schooling in Catholic High. Once again, vastly different from what I'm used to. Somehow I'm a little relieved that there aren't as many rituals practiced in Christianity. Heh.

Then at around 11am we went to the crematorium, and I got to know Uncle Richard better there. He was a bit effeminate in his ways and he kept recommending I take Psychology and Sociology. Then I told him I wouldn't want to be facing depressed people all day, and that psychologists must also ensure that their personal lives were sorted out. He replied that passion exceeded all drawbacks... but a passion to counsel - its not quite in me haha, not at the moment. I think right now I know about my relatives more than I've ever have.

It got more emotional as we viewed the cremation from the uh... viewing hall. It was rather dramatic, because we were viewing from the top and then the coffin was on this machine that was tracked towards the incinerator. I must say that even though I hadn't felt much emotion till that point, the atmosphere in the hall did chip away at my resolve bit by bit. All this while the Catholics present were saying their prayers, so it might have soothed the agonies of the direct family members a little. I can't imagine what a viewing hall without religion would be like... things would definitely be more emotional and there would be little comfort I guess.

I don't know, but a strange thought entered my mind as I saw the daughter of Mm sobbing away. I'd like to think that I wouldn't cry when my mum passes away, for there is the assurance that her soul would be spending eternity with God, a most wonderful thing. But I think I would cry, because I was actually on the verge of tearing while witnessing someone who I didn't quite know enter the incinerator. I think I would cry because of the memories that I have had of my mum while she was alive. Yes and I would realise that there would be no more of these memories to be created anymore and I would feel sad about that and cry. Haha.

Well me being newly mature me and all ready to talk to adults now, I talked quite a bit to my grandmother(maternal side) today. My grandma's really aged quite a bit, she's 78 this year but I never quite realized how old she looked till today. Never remembered her hair being so white. Really wanted to talk to her extensively today, about her life story and all, because I've never. And I never had the chance to talk like that with my grandfather, her husband, because he passed away when I was 12, so me being kiddy me then didn't quite talk. So after lunch, when my mum went back to school for work I followed my grandmother back to her home (my cousin's house) to just have an afternoon chat with her.

My grandmother Wee Kim Yean is really a lovely woman. As in she's incredibly good-natured, sociable and well, cute haha. Really adventurous and bold for her age too, she would go bumping around with her younger sister (grandaunty - known to me as See Yi Poh) to faraway places like Tampines haha. It's really quite nice to see someone still having so much optimism and joy at 78, you'd think that life would have drained the colour in a person and burst her bubble. So I really quite enjoyed talking to her.

So I spent a good chunk of the afternoon talking to her, and it was great! Looked through all the old photos in her collection, heh. My grandma was quite a camwhore LOL. It's in the genes I tell you.

Well it's rather understandable that my grandma doesn't quite remember things that have happened, nor did she recall when her grandparents set foot on Singapore. She obviously didn't go sleuthing about like I did haha. So all she could remember was that her grandfather was from Fu Jian and sold salted fish in Singapore haha.


Wee Boon Chit and the Nanking Dispensary
This is Wee Boon Chit, my great-grandfather. He was university-educated and apparently very smart. According to Kim Yean he was skinny and incredibly good-natured too, he never beat them and seldom raised his voice, and just chided them nicely. He practiced medicine and set up the Nanking Dispensary (南京药房), hiring Dr. Richard Hu's father as one of the doctors. Was quite a success, this medical hall, there were long queues and Boon Chit made a lot of money. According to my mum he fused Eastern and Western medicine. They also produced miracle cure-all powder (like prickly-heat) from scratch and the panadol then which was called Lak Gao Sar (693). So what Kim Yean and her siblings did was to help out at the medical hall, grinding powder and so on. The Wee family lived on the second story of the shophouse, but it wasn't a shabby life at all haha. The shophouse was located at Cross Street, Chinatown. Boon Chit himself worked as the second in-house doctor at Nanking Dispensary. Unfortunately Boon Chit and his wife, Ang Siew Keng, did not quite store their money well enough haha. They didn't want to store all of it in the bank, so what they did was to hollow out certain parts of the walls in the shophouse to store the moolah, concealing it with false walls. And well, quite a fortune got lost when the government tore down the shophouse to reclaim the land, apparently the workers helped themselves to the Orchid notes. So... that was that. I don't know what happened to the Nanking Dispensary following the tearing down of the shophouse. Following the tearing down of the shophouse, the Wee family moved to Katong.

Ang Siew Keng, my great-grandmother

The birth of my grandmother and her siblings
Well, all I know was that Boon Chit was quite disappointed that none of his children were keen to take over Nanking Dispensary. My grandmother, Wee Kim Yean (黄金燕), was born on 5th July, 1930, and her name was given by Siew Keng. She was the sixth of seven children, born after her three elder brothers: Keng Cheng (1925), Keng Siong (1927) and Keng Swee (1928), and two elder sisters: Kim Hio (1920) and Kim Pei (1924). Her youngest sister was Kim Poh who was born in 1933 and with whom she was and still is the closest to. Keng Cheng has since passed away in Singapore, Keng Siong is still alive but is living in the US, Keng Swee went to China to work when he was young and never came back. Her elder sisters Kim Hio and Kim Pei have passed away too in Singapore at ripe old ages.

Kim Yean's childhood of luxury!
Kim Yean and her siblings were fortunate to have been born into a wealthy family. She had an extremely privileged childhood relative to the times, and never had to worry about not having food on the table. In fact, she was served by an Ah Sam, a maid, and had a rotound Malay chauffeur to drive her around in a Merc! She spent much of her childhood carefree, but had to attend lessons which were arranged for her. She took sewing lessons from a tailor, paying him $30 a month, she learnt the piano but gave up in Grade 1 (haha at least I made it to Grade 3 heh), and had tuition lessons on top of these too. Kim Yean and her siblings didn't quite like studying though, even though they had all the means too. Kim Yean only had a Primary Five education at Anthony's Girls school when she was married, Keng Siong and Keng Swee made it to Secondary 4 in Chung Cheng High school. Keng Cheng went the furthest, reaching pre-uni education and eventually went to Australia to further his studies. Kim Yean spent her childhood playing hopskotch and badminton with neighbours and friends after school and she liked eating angkoli fish and long beans. Haha. Boon Chit, their father and my great-grandfather, was understandably disappointed in his children for he had wanted them to become doctors and nurses to help out at Nanking Dispensary.

My grandmother, Wee Kim Yean, when she was in her 20s.

WWII
World War II came around when Kim Yean was 13 years old, and it was a most traumatic two years for her. Fortunately her father Boon Chit had cleverly created an underground hideout behind the Nanking Dispensary shophouse in anticipation of the shelling, and the Wee family would scramble into the basement whenever the wailing warning signals went off, which Kim Yean spontaneously demonstrates a version of haha. The Wee's survived on bread and noodles, and the two years were spent in agony waiting in the house, for it was dangerous going outside. The girls in the Wee family also had to smear charcoal on their faces to make themselves unattractive to the Japanese soldiers.

My late grandfather, Sim Cheng Kim.

Kim Yean finds love in Eng Hoon Street
I found it surprising that my grandparents only got married when they were 28, which I thought would have been an overdue age to get hitched in those times. But Kim Yean told me that it was normal then. I'm not too sure actually haha. The Wee family had a few properties on the island - besides the shophouse at Cross Street (which was torn down only after Kim Yean got married, by the way), they also owned a house in Frankel Estate, Katong, and a two-storey house along Eng Hoon Street, Tiong Bahru. And it was during Kim Yean's living stints at Tiong Bahru where she got to know this dashing young neighbour one year her junior, Sim Cheng Kim. I'm not kidding, he really was quite good-looking haha, so you all can now officially stop wondering where my good looks come from hahaha. Ask my grandma about her courtship days and she immediately starts to blush and giggle and I see suddenly the 23 year old Kim Yean before me haha. They were good friends and neighbours and hit off quite well, and Cheng Kim started asking Kim Yean out for movies at the old Capitol Building. Kim Yean also quite fancied this young man and they actually confessed their feelings to each other haha. So they went on dates and walks at the seaside hehe.

Boon Chit objects to the budding romance!
In typical fashion, Boon Chit wanted his daughter Kim Yean to marry a rich man, and he actually introduced doctors to Kim Yean to date. However, Boon Chit could not help but notice that Kim Yean had been going out on dates with Cheng Kim, a mere abacus-wielder at the Bank of China who didn't earn much. However, Kim Yean told her father that Cheng Kim was who she truly loved and Cheng Kim too even contemplated committing suicide if Kim Yean were to leave him. Boon Chit relented in the end, and my grandparents got married at age 28 at a hotel in Orchard Road! Sweet!

Kim Yean in her wedding gown!




Kim Yean with her first child.


Reality after the drama
Marriage life was not easy for Kim Yean who had now married into a Peranakan household. She was expected to know how to take care of a household. Fortunately, she had picked up cooking from her Ah Sam (maid) when she was younger. Now she had to learn new skills like grinding chilli padis as well as cope with the change in language used - the Sim family spoke Malay at home. Kim Yean gave birth to her eldest daughter, whom I know as Auntie Mary, when she was 28, then my mum when she was 29, then my eldest uncle Uncle Davy when she was 31, followed by my second uncle when she was 33 and finally the fifth child Uncle Robin when she was 39! Life was tough for the large family which survived solely on Cheng Kim's job at the Bank of China. As a result, Mary had to chip in working as a nurse, and my mum gave tuition and became a teacher. Only my eldest uncle, Davy, was able to get a university education due to financial constraints.
Kim Yean carrying her first son, Davy.

My uncle Davy in his graduation gown, flanked by Robin on his left and Beng on his right, and in front of him his proud parents!

Kim Yean and Cheng Kim with Kim Yean's second brother Keng Siong, who lives in the US now.

My grandfather Cheng Kim and me years ago!


Kim Yean - my vivacious grandmother who is always game and has inspired me with her life story and her ever-bubbly nature!



What's to come...
So there's my grandmother's story, but it doesn't end there... will chronicle my mum's when she's old enough heh... then I'll write my own story!