Raquel Gan

in class today, a nicely-dressed lady wearing prada glasses was telling me about the shit gaddafi is doing to his people. as a student of journalism, she follows the news from abc, cnn, and so on everyday. at the back of my mind, i wasnt really listening to her; i was wondering whether she knows what all libyans really want.
i don’t know the answer, and probably most libyans are still confused. so how would this lady know what we should be doing in libya? gaddafi, the media call him a murderer, i do strongly agree. at the same time, how do we expect him to step down when he was humiliated once when israel defeated his country. israel, the country americans backed up with all means once, or maybe still going on. now we expect gaddafi to give up all his efforts in preserving the arab way (which may be the wrong way to us) to the rebels who were inspired by western ideologies.
that lady, a really smart one, will one day be writing on major newspaper and we will all be reading her works. she will sit in her air-conditioned office writing about hardships in another corner of the world. what we are going to read is only through her prada glasses facing a cold machine. perhaps, one day, she will move out of her office and face the reality. then, maybe a little too late, she will realize she has wasted her life writing nothing but lies.

Amanda Chong’s essay on ‘What a Modern Woman Wants..’

“The old woman sat in the backseat of the magenta convertible as it careened down the highway, clutching tightly to the plastic bag on her lap, afraid it may be kidnapped by the wind. She was not used to such speed, with trembling hands she pulled the seat belt tighter but was careful not to touch the patent leather seats with her callused fingers, her daughter had warned her not to dirty it, ‘Fingerprints show very clearly on white, Ma.’

Her daughter, Bee Choo, was driving and talking on her sleek silver mobile phone using big words the old woman could barely understand. ‘Finance’, ‘Liquidation’, ‘Assets’, ‘Investments’… Her voice was crisp and important and had an unfamiliar lilt to it.

Her Bee Choo sounded like one of those foreign girls on television. She was speaking in an American accent.The old lady clucked her tongue in disapproval. ….. ‘I absolutely cannot have this. We have to sell!’ Her daughter exclaimed agitatedly as she stepped on the accelerator; her perfectly manicured fingernails gripping onto the steering wheel in irritation.

‘I can’t DEAL with this anymore!’ she yelled as she clicked the phone shut and hurled it angrily toward the backseat.. The mobile phone hit the old woman on the forehead and nestled soundlessly into her lap. She calmly picked it up and handed it to her daughter..

‘Sorry, Ma,’ she said, losing the American pretence and switching to Mandarin. ‘I have a big client in America . There have been a lot of problems.’

The old lady nodded knowingly. Her daughter was big andimportant.

Bee Choo stared at her mother from the rear view window, wondering what she was thinking. Her mother’s wrinkled countenance always carried the same cryptic look. The phone began to ring again, an artificially cheerfuldigital tune, which broke the awkward silence.

‘Hello, Beatrice! Yes, this is Elaine.’ Elaine. The old woman cringed. I didn’t name her Elaine. She remembered her daughter telling her, how an English name was very important for ‘networking’, Chinese ones being easily forgotten.

‘Oh no, I can’t see you for lunch today. I have to take theancient relic to the temple for her weird daily prayer ritual.’Ancient Relic. The old woman understood perfectly it wasreferring to her. Her daughter always assumed that her mother’s silence meant she did not comprehend.

‘Yes, I know! My car seats will be reeking of joss sticks!’ The old woman pursed her lips tightly, her hands gripping her plastic bag in defence.

The car curved smoothly into the temple courtyard. It looked almost garish next to the dull sheen of the ageing temple’s roof.. The old woman got out of the back seat, and made her unhurried way to the main hall.

Her daughter stepped out of the car in her business suit andstilettos and reapplied her lipstick as she made her brisk way to her mother’s side.

‘Ma, I’ll wait outside.. I have an important phone call to make,’ she said, not bothering to hide her disgust at the pungent fumes of incense. The old lady hobbled into the temple hall and lit a joss stick, she knelt down solemnly and whispered her now familiar daily prayer to the Gods.Thank you God of the Sky, you have given my daughter luck all these years. Everything I prayed for, you have given her. She has everything a young woman in this world could possibly want. She has a big house with a swimming pool, a maid to help her, as she is too clumsy to sew or cook. Her love life has been blessed; she is engaged to a rich and handsome angmoh man.

Her company is now the top financial firm and even men listen to what she says… She lives the perfect life. You have given her everything except happiness. I ask that the gods be merciful to her even if she has lost her roots while reaping the harvest of success.

What you see is not true, she is a filial daughter to me. Shegives me a room in her big house and provides well for me. She is rude to me only because I affect her happiness.. A young woman does not want to be hindered by her old mother. It is my fault.

The old lady prayed so hard that tears welled up in her eyes. Finally, with her head bowed in reverence she planted the half-burnt joss stick into an urn of smoldering ashes.

She bowed once more. The old woman had been praying for her daughter for thirty-two years. When her stomach was round like a melon, she came to the temple and prayed that it was a son. Then the time was ripe and the baby slipped out of her womb, bawling and adorable with fat thighs and pink cheeks, but unmistakably, a girl. Her husband had ticked and punched her for producing a useless baby who could not work or carry the family name. Still, the woman returned to the temple with her new-born girl tied to her waist in a sarong and prayed that her daughter would grow up and have everything she ever wanted.

Her husband left her and she prayed that her daughter would never have to depend on a man. She prayed every day that her daughter would be a great woman, the woman that she, meek and uneducated, could never become. Awoman with nengkan; the ability to do anything she set her mind to. A woman who commanded respect in the hearts of men. When she opened her mouth to speak, precious pearls would fall out and men would listen. She will not be like me, the woman prayed as she watched her daughter grow up and drift away from her, speaking a language she scarcely understood.

She watched her daughter transform from a quiet girl to one who openly defied her, calling her laotu, old fashioned… . She wanted her mother to be ‘modern’, a word so new there was no Chinese word for it. Now her daughter was too clever for her and the old woman wondered why she had prayed like that. The Gods had been faithful to her persistent prayer, but the wealth and success that poured forth so richly had buried the girl’s roots and now she stood faceless with no identity, bound to the soil of her ancestors by only a string of origami banknotes.

Her daughter had forgotten her mother’s value. Her wants were so ephemeral, that of a modern woman. Power, wealth, access to the best fashion boutiques and yet her daughter had not found true happiness. The old woman knew that you could find happiness with much less.When her daughter left the earth, everything she had would count for nothing. People would look to her legacy and say that she was a great woman but she would be forgotten once the wind blows over, like the ashes of burnt paper convertibles and mansions.

The old woman wished she could go back and erase all her big hopes and prayers for her daughter now that she had looked out of the temple gates. She saw her daughter speaking on the phone, her brow furrowed with anger andworry. Being at the top is not good, the woman thought, there is only one way to go from there – down.

The old woman carefully unfolded the plastic bag and spread out a packet of beehoon in front of the altar. Her daughter often mocked her for worshipping porcelain Gods. How could she pray to them so faithfully and expect pieces of ceramic to fly to her aid? But her daughter had her owngods too, idols of wealth, success and power that she enslaved to and worshipped every day of her life.

Every day was a quest for the idols, and the idols she worshipped counted for nothing in eternity. All the wants her daughter had would slowly suck the life out of her and leave her, an empty souless shell at the altar..The old woman watched the joss stick. The dull heat had left a teetering grey stem that was on the danger of collapsing.

Modern woman nowadays, the old lady signed in resignation, as she bowed to the east bone final time to end her ritual. Modern woman nowadays want so much that they lose their souls and wonder whey they cannot find it.Her joss stick disintegrated into a soft grey powder. She met her daughter outside the temple, the same look of worry and frustration was etched on her daughter’s face.

An empty expression, as if she was ploughing through the soil of her wants looking for the one thing that would sown the seeds of happiness. They climbed into the convertible in silence and her daughter drove along the highway, this time not to fast as she had done before. ‘Ma,’ Bee Choo finally said. “I don’t know how to put this. Mark and I have been talking about it and we plan to move out of the bighouse. The property market is good now, and we managed to get a buyer willing to pay us seven million for it. We decided we’d prefer a cosier penthouse apartment instead. We found a perfect one in Orchard Road .. Once we move into our apartment, we plan to get rid of the maid, so we can have more space to ourselves… ..”

The old woman nodded knowingly. Bee Choo swallowed hard. “We’d get someone to come in to do the housework and we can eat out – but once the maid is gone, there won’t be anyone to look after you. You will be awfullylonely at home and, besides that the apartment is rather small. There won’t be space. We thought about it for a long time, and we decided the best thing for you is if you moved to a Home. There’s one near Hougang – it’s a Christian home and a very nice one.”

The old woman did not raise an eyebrow. I”ve been there, the matron is willing to take you in. It’s beautiful with gardens and lots of old people to keep you company! Hardly have time for you, you’d be happierthere.” “You’d be happier there, really..” her daughter repeated as if to affirm herself.

This time the old woman had no plastic bag of food offering to cling tightly to, she bit her lip and fastened her seat belt, as if it would protect her from a daughter who did not want her anymore. She sunk deep into the leather seat, letting her shoulders sag and her fingers trace the whiteseat.

Ma, her daughter asked, searching the rear view window for her mother.. “Is everything okay?

What had to be done, had to be done. “Yes” she said firmly,louder than she intended, ‘if it will make you happy,’ she added more quietly.

‘It’s for you, Ma! You will be happier there. You can movethere tomorrow, I already got the maid to pack your things.’ Elaine said triumphantly, mentally ticking yet another item off her agenda. ‘I knew everything would be fine.’ Elaine smiled widely; she felt liberated. Perhaps getting rid of her mother would make her happier… She had thought about it. It seemed the only hindrance in her pursuit of happiness. She was happy now. She had everything a modern woman ever wanted; money, status, career, love, power and now freedom without her mother and her old-fashioned ways to weigh her down……

Yes she was free. Her phone butted urgently, she picked it up and read the message, still beaming from ear to ear. “Stock 10% increase.” Yes, things were definitely beginning to look up for her and while searching for the meaning of life in the luminance of her hand phone screen,the old woman in the backseat became invisible and she did not see her in tears.”

yesterday i had a worst fall ever from mountain biking. losing much blood leading to a blackout in an island without medical centre worried me for a good five seconds. then, it came to me that it was nothing; nothing compared to my fellow human race in war zones or medical ill-equipped areas. worse, if it is complicated with politics.

i am lucky because my friends have first aid knowledge. we have the luxury to afford not only rudimentary education but also additional life skills. on the other hand, some countries are struggling or even depriving their people from basic education. to ask, how would they know what to do if their friends or family members are down with infectious wound or any diseases. certain cultures or villages would definitely have traditional methods in curbing such problems. however, the western invasion (NGOs and UN-related organizations) in many rural areas have slowly eroded such practices and enforced western medical knowledge. hence, more and more people are reliant on western medications and equipments which are way too costly for the government or that there is rampant corruption. at the same time, more new diseases are surfacing which requires longer time for the new generations to source a traditional solution. in such instances, western team would once again emphasize on such shortcoming to rely on traditional based methods.

i am once again lucky because the injury is induced by myself. there are so many left dead due to the war fought ouside their house. they are more than innocent, so why did they die? in the past, soldiers fight soldiers in a war. modern warfare happens in urban centre where large number civilians stay. furthermore, more destructive and indiscriminate weapons are used which are unable to gaurantee the safety of innocent civilians. when left wounded, war zones provide an unfavourable situation in relieving the injuries. death rates accumulate, and i ask, what are we trying to achieve? just look at what shit america have done to iraq.

finally, how am i not lucky when i know i will recover once i brave through the pain in cleaning the wound? however, for them everyday is an unknown. even had they made it to the hospital, it is still uncertainties ahead. they had to brave the excruciating pain with the most raw equipments, sometimes without anesthesia. i would rather die. whereas they never give up, they are the heros in lives.

we are all humans, but why the inequality?

The Burmese didn’t name their protest with such sophisticated title – Saffron Revolution. It was the robes of the monks that inspire such a title for the Burmese monks and people efforts in retaliating the military government nonviolently.

The demonstrations were sparked off when the government increased the fuel twice the amount, exacerbating the struggles of all Burmese. The monks decided to reject alms and marched the streets to pressure government to end poverty. Initial warnings such as tear gas put more people, especially students to join the march. As usual, repressive government used greater force to curb the demonstrations, monks were arrested and murdered.

Burma VJ is a documentary comprised of videos taking during the demonstrations and smuggled out with personal risks by the reporters. We thanked them for those who sacrificed their lives and those who are still working hard in providing the world with information. Exactly because of them, we are able to see an election happening in the coming month. The video below is a section of the documentary which I find most, well, mixed emotions.

Nonviolent strategies are not the perfect solutions but still one that would work better than any others. People will get arrest, will die, will suffer. However, if the demonstrators persist in their cause, it will only further expose the atrocities of the repressive regime. Continued pressure internally and externally would ultimate cripple the regime. Had the military forces decided to join the monks and students, the military junta might have been eliminated. Despite the charismatic democratic leader, Aung San Suu Kyi placed on extended house arrest and not able to participate in the coming election. I sincerely hope with new parties representing the people, that there would be a change in Burma. Else, the repressive regime would stay in place for another god knows how many years. Furthermore, if people decided to stand up for their cause, god knows how many the military would kill again.

May all beings living to the East
All the beings of the universe, be Free
Free from fear, free from all distress, free from poverty
May they have peace in their hearts

Free Burma.

without any information, i (and u as well) would assume these two men as criminals who just came out from the police station or court. or maybe just some hippies (i mean, look at the dreadlocks!). or maybe just some homeless, jobless men wandering on the streets. just nothing good, i assume.

well, now they looked really cute, aint they? one t-shirt says ‘the only solution is love’ with a lovey dove on the side and the other t-shirt shows a man dumping weapons into the bin. indeed, it is rather hippie (maybe its the dreadlocks?), like nobody would treat them seriously. but many things should be not be judged on the cover. the man on the right is Ciaron O’Reilly and the left is Jim Dowling, both are nonviolent activists in human rights and anti-war issues. and no, it is not ad-hoc; they devote their lives for such a cause.

that was Jim getting caught for blocking a major military access road to the Talisman Sabre 09 exercises being held at Shoalwater, central Queensland, Australia. getting caught and attending court is common, but the attitude should remained positive (like him). it is exactly such optimism that keeps the opponent off-guard. for example, he was in a blockade where activists locked their arms in a line, which the police threatened the use of force had they fail to disperse. however, the police didn’t use their batons and did the otherwise; they have to carry the activists away from the road (gently). that, is the power of nonviolence.

of course, this post is not to ask the readers to think about nonviolent protests but to be aware of it. nonviolence is a strategy to achieve positive ends with positive means. if u r (or going to be) a police, think when you are ordered to disperse civil resistance groups. if u r teacher, think whether you should encourage free speech and creativity in your students. if u r an adventure-seeker, think whether u should be sourcing for challenges in your life when there are existing challenges in the social structure in the world.

peace.

this photograph is not recent and the story behind it is not uncommon, but still for those who are clueless about it:

Photo by Kevin Carter. In March 1993 Carter made a trip to southern Sudan. The sound of soft, high-pitched whimpering near the village of Ayod attracted Carter to an emaciated Sudanese toddler. The girl had stopped to rest while struggling to a feeding center, whereupon a vulture had landed nearby. He said that he waited about 20 minutes, hoping that the vulture would spread its wings. It didn’t. Carter snapped the haunting photograph and chased the vulture away . However, he also came under heavy criticism for just photographing — and not helping — the little girl. When the photo was published, hundreds called to ask whether the little girl had survived. It was such a shame that the publishers could only say that the girl was able to escape from the vulture but her fate was unknown. Hence, should we honor Carter whose photo translate the situation in Sudan to the world or should we criticize him for not helping the little girl (i mean the camp was only less than 10km away). My first intuition was that he should help the little girl! How possible could he just sit there and wait for 20min for a wildlife show involving your own species? It takes less than 5 sec to just snap a picture and he could then help the little girl. He took his life not long after the photo was published. Still, I wouldn’t pity such a man who left behind his family in struggle of his own emotions.

I am narrow minded and I HATE IT.

Just a week alone, i got agitated twice on the argument of whether there’s a need of army. First, with boyfriend then with a considerably good friend in Singapore. I hate how I am being brainwashed from my uni studies. I called it brainwashed because I find myself so contradicting that I don’t know where my stand is now. I am angry too, on why people around me are not experiencing what I am going through. Yes, I am being petty and jealous here. Am i being too pessimistic? Am i thinking in the right direction? and finally, who’s is there to determine what is right or wrong? god, parents, friends? I am so ambitious that I want to make this world a better place, but so often i find myself incapable in doing so. How am i going to convince strangers in the future when I am unable to convince people around me? BUT, why can’t people around me have their own perspectives? Why must I make a change in them? This frustration follows me for years since I learn about Hitler to Africa and now the whole world on globalization and development. I have so many questions since young on why there are images on the television to why the sky is blue. It was so easy to find the answers from encyclopedia  (and the wu la bo shi) to all those questions. Now, i have the biggest question of my life whose answer seems to be the mathematics’s infinity. Again, why do we need to seek for an answer?

Thanks for even going through the first paragraph. I would stop here and go on telling you why I think army is not necessary.

To understand that army is redundant, we need to believe that humans are not inherently violent. However, I believe most of us will think that humans are inherently violence, otherwise how do predecessors practice hunting? Furthermore, we always have this perception that the primitive humans are barbaric who do killings without rational reasons. However, statistics shown that its the 20th century killings that are the most rapid. 20th century humans are supposed to be more rational because we have gone the enlightenment period and embrace science and logic to explain our world. This increasing violence is because of our structure and system we are living in. The most primitive people do not just kill humans for the sake of killing but were often burdened by traditions and radical religion practices. In present days, however, humans start killing for economical and political gains. We,  humans got greedy. The system make us greedy and desperate. In order to achieve the best from what the system can offer, we use desperate measures like killing and getting ourselves into wars. This system that i have been talking about is food production. Predecessors used to to hunting in a group and distribute the food amongst their families. However, since the invention of food production, humans are producing for people they do not know and continue to do so because it gives them money to survive in the system. This is when landlords and farmers established, which also mean unequal distribution of wealth surfaced. Which human, in the right mind, would want to work as a hard labor farmer and see most of the benefits reaped by the landlord? When oppression prolonged, resistance surfaced and violence followed. I hope you are following me well and understand why we are not inherently violent. If humans’ brains have a violent prone area, they are developed and not given naturally. This is not a statement dropped from the sky but scientifically proven.

Hence, if humans are not inherently violent, why are we still trying harder and harder to maintain or even escalate this violent world? Some may think we need the army to DEFEND our country. If you step up and say our country do not need an army, what makes you think your neighboring countries will not follow suit? I thought humans love to ‘monkey sees monkey do’ sort of attitude? Furthermore, if you get into a war, what makes you think you are doing the most right and honorable thing? As a soldier, you are a tool to the leaders. They aroused your nationalistic feelings, get you into a war that fight for themselves. Instead, you went to the battlefield and kill people who are also manipulated by their leaders! Those that perish are the one with family as well, they are exactly who you are! Hence, wars are just for the fun for those leaders, not you! If you are thinking about Hercules or Guan yu, those brave and honorable warriors, we are NO LONGER IN THAT PERIOD OF TIME. Wars today are fruitless and ridiculous where soldiers were sent and no names recorded like the Normandy invasion! Who are you dying for and who you are killing? Do you exactly know the answer? Perhaps you really enjoy the adrenaline in doing such things,  then you are just being a selfish bastard; inflicting pain on others to gain your happiness.

Hence, I’m not saying ‘ o this particular country X must not have an army’ but everybody! everybody should do their part in disarming and abolish army. Armies may be seemed to helping countries in crisis, but this is not the solution. The solution is to provide basic needs to all humans and ultimately equality; budget on military should be revised, those resources should reach those that really need them to eradicate the problem.

Even my best friend is in the army, it has provided the wrong mindset in us people. I hope more and more people can see the truth within. and, I still love all my friends.