Category Archives: Unimates

Banana Bread in a Pan

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I’ve been neglecting my blog for a long time.

It’s not because I’ve ran out of ideas and stuff to blog on, it’s just that I’ve been bloody busy with university life this semester. Running a society is much, much, much harder than I thought. Especially if you have events every week and your members are all International or Exchange students who have high expectations of you to create the best Australian/ USYD experience for them.

On top of that, I’ve to make sure the society is running smoothly so that the Clubs and Societies Office don’t come down on our asses with the ferocity of Cerberus.

Luckily, I have a great Treasurer and Secretary who help me to keep track of things.

I have to admit though, as a lazy perfectionist, the majority of the pressure came from myself. I was determined to create the most fun environment conducive to the international student body n USYD. With almost 10,000 international and exchange students in USYD, it’s a tall, tall order. Certainly not something I can accomplish within my university academic career. But at least I can set the foundation. I hope.

And let’s not mention my academic career. Not too stellar as I wished it would be. I still try to keep up with my work, but it’s quite difficult to be honest. Doing three English Literature subjects as a third-year Uni student is terribly draining. The amount of novels and plays I have to read almost every week is more than my current personal monthly reading quota (1 book a month, to be exact). This does not include the articles and journals that the lecturers assigns every week for each seminar.

There’s this English Lit course that I took. It’s called Fantastical Women and it’s about how women characters are portrayed in Literature and how women writers attempt to break away from the traditional, patriarchal forms of literature.

Interesting, I know.

But some of the novels and most of the articles are complicated at best and confounding at worst.

Most of the time, I turn up for the Fantastical Women seminar without doing any of the readings. Under the eyes of all English Literature majors and professors, this is the worst insult you can ever hurl. As an English Lit major myself, I feel very insulted too.

Anyway, there’s this girl in my seminar who sits near the back of the lecture room with me. Because of our seating arrangement, we always end up in the same discussion group. After being in the same group with me for a number of times, the first question she’ll ask me is this:

“Have you done the readings/ read the novel?”

And my answer to her, age-old and ever unchanging as a rock:

“Nope.”

Sometimes, she’ll subtly change her method, in hopes that my answer will come out different.

The girl will pick up my copy of whatever novel we’re covering in the seminar and her first comment will be:

“It’s so new!”

Of course it’s new. I just bought the novel a few days ago and I haven’t even read it. To be honest, I don’t even know why I bother buying the novel. Probably keeping up with the appearance.

Then she’ll ask me, “So… you haven’t read the novel, have you?”

“Nope.”

I must have broke that poor damsel’s heart a million times.

Yesterday, it was our last seminar. We were waiting for the lecturer. So a bunch of people sitting near me was talking about the current novel. It was Jeanette Winterson’s The PowerBook. The girl, half turned in her seat (she’s always sitting in front of me), reached out and took my copy of the novel.

Holding the book, she hesitated, not sure if she could withstand another heartbreak.

Willing what must be the last vestige of her hope, she flipped through my copy.

She paused.

She glanced at my sleep deprived face.

“Hey, you’ve read the book.” The dog-eared pages betrayed my rough handling.

I just smiled.

She smiled, a glimmer of hope shone through. Maybe I wasn’t so hopeless after all.

Half an hour later, she found out the reason why I read the novel.

My partner and I had to give a seminar presentation on the novel. I think her hopes might have deflated a little.

But I have to say that she had such unwavering faith for a traitorous English Lit major like me. I would have asked her out if only I wasn’t so preoccupied with another girl.

Oh well. Life goes on.

Anyway, I’ve rambled on for almost 742 words without even reaching to the main part of my topic.

BANANA BREAD.

I love bananas.

I fucking love banana bread.

I seriously could orgasm when I eat banana bread with Nutella.

Since I love banana bread so much, I decided to bake it. I mean, why not? I have all the baking equipment and ingredients in my kitchen and banana bread is pretty simple to make.

So last week, I went out and bought bananas, some butter, eggs and a loaf pan.

After waiting for a week for the bananas to become nicely ripe, I decided I couldn’t wait anymore and burst out my baking hat and apron this afternoon (I don’t have a baking hat and apron).

It’s on.

BANANA BREAD!

Okay, ingredients.

You need:

  • 2 1/3 cups (525g) of mashed, overripe bananas
  • 2 cups (250g) all-purpose flour
  • 1/2 cup (115g) butter
  • 3/4 cup (110g) brown sugar
  • 1 teaspoon (5g) BAKING SODA
  • 1/3 teaspoon (2g) salt
  • 2 eggs, beaten.

 

Pretty simple, really.

Now, what you do is this:

Take out bananas. The apple is there to speed up the ripening process:

 

 

 

 

 

Lay them out in a row on a baking tray. Adieu my good soldiers:

 

 

 

 

 

Then roast the shit out of them in the oven at 230 degree Celsius for 5-7 minutes. (You did preheat your oven, did you?):

 

They won’t explode. Trust me.

 

 

 

Take the roasted bananas and squeeze the gooey banana nectar into a cup and mashed them up. Mash them good:

 

I had to prevent myself from drinking that sweet, sweet nectar.

 

 

 

Now prepare the batter. You still remember the other ingredients, don’t you? Let’s have a recap:

 

Ignore the weighing scale. You won’t be needing it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There’s a few things I would like to point out. First, use BAKING SODA. Not baking powder. BAKING SODA is also known as bicarbonate soda or bicarbonate of soda. Baking soda IS NOT the same as baking powder. Don’t screw this up.

Second, don’t buy raw sugar just because it’s brown. Raw sugar IS NOT brown sugar. This is how brown sugar is supposed to look:

 

Brown sugar has the consistency and feel of dark, wet earth.

Don’t fuck this up.

 

 

 

Oops, almost forgot the eggs:

 

 

 

 

 

Now, in a bowl, mix the flour, baking soda and salt together:

 

 

 

 

 

Melt butter in a saucepan:

 

Here’s a tip, don’t just leave the butter burning in the saucepan. You’ll only get burned butter. That’s not what you want. You just want to melt the butter. So remove the saucepan from the heat and constantly swirl the butter around. Get it? Good.

 

 

 

Once butter have melted, in a SEPARATE BOWL, mix butter and brown sugar together:

 

 

 

 

 

Stir in eggs and mashed bananas until well blended:

 

Oh boy…..

 

 

 

Stir banana mixture into flour mixture:

 

Hmmm….. come to papa.

 

 

 

Now, when you stir the mixture, DO NOT OVER MIX. You’re not entering some ‘best-human-blender-arm’ competition. Just stir to moisten to the mixture and make sure there’s no more white flour specks left.

DO NOT OVER MIX. JUST STIR TO MOISTEN THE MIXTURE AND MAKE SURE THERE’S NO MORE WHITE FLOUR SPECKS LEFT.

Get it? Good.

 

 

 

Lightly grease the loaf pan with butter. Use a brush to spread the butter around:

 

 

 

 

 

Now pour that sweet, sweet-looking mixture into the loaf pan:

 

I… cannot… wait… any… longer….

 

 

 

Now pop that into the oven (YOU DID PREHEAT YOUR OVEN, DID YOU?). Bake the banana bread for 60 to 65 minutes at 175 degrees Celsius.

Do not touch the oven. Do not open the oven to ‘speed up’ the baking process. Unless you have those ancient oven that doesn’t have a glass window on the oven door, just leave that fucker alone.

Go do the dishes. They’re not going to clean themselves.

After 60 to 65 minutes, open the oven and insert toothpick into banana bread. If the toothpick comes out clean, it’s baked. If not, bake for 5 more minutes and test it again.

The result is this:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sob. So… beautiful.

 

 

 

Let bread cool in pan for 10 minutes, then turn it out onto a wire rack. I don’t have a wire rack, so I turned it out onto a cutting board:

 

Our banana bread in heaven, nourished be thy name.

Your bananas come, your bananas be done,

In our stomaches as it is everywhere else on earth.

GIve us this day, our daily banana bread,

And forgive us our hunger,

As we also have forgiven our hungerers,

And lead us not into over-bingeing,

But deliver us from our guilty snacking.

For thine is the banana, and the bread, and the banana bread, for ever and ever. Amen.

 

Thou shall now feast on the fruits of your labour.

As it was my first time making banana bread, it came out okay. Both my housemates said it was not bad for my first time. But there are improvements to be made:

  1. Let bananas ripen more. I was too impatient
  2. Get MORE bananas. 8 medium sized bananas were only enough to yield 2 cups. I probably need to use 10 or 11 bananas.
  3. Use slightly more brown sugar.
  4. Use slightly more flour, salt and baking soda.
  5. Bake it for 5 minutes longer. You can see the base is still slightly wet.

 

The banana wasn’t that sweet enough (due to the lack of overripe bananas), so NUTELLA came and saved the day!

Hmm…. chocolate and banana, the best of both worlds.

Now go bake your banana bread. May Banana bread bless you, my child.

I got the recipe here.

 

 

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I wanted to use this song for my rally video for the Singapore Blog Awards 2011, but then decided not to because of copyright reasons.

Anyway, here it is. Fantastic, simple song.

 

Eating Prawns

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This week has been a pretty hectic week for me. So apologies for the lack of updates.

I had two exams in this week. One was a take-home exam for an English Lit subject and another was an in-class exam for an International Security subject.

Each exam is worth 40%.

But it doesn’t end there. My take home-exam was due on Tuesday and my in-class exam was on Wednesday. So after submitting my take home-exam 10 minutes shy of the deadline, I flashed back home, took out my well-used midnight oil lamp and crammed for the in-class exam.

Stressful week indeed.

But… it hasn’t end yet.

This week is the last week of school and I’m currently on STUVAC, which means study vacation. It’s just a nice way of saying cram week. So during this one week, I’ll have to prepare for another take-home exam and an open book exam. At least I’ve got two exams out of the way already.

Anyway, enough of sidetracking. This post is not about exams or assignments or cramming or burning midnight oil.

This post is about eating prawns. Or more specifically, how I eat prawns.

But first, I would like you to meet Cooked Prawny:




Delicious, no?

Anyway, there’s a short back story to this post. Last night, I was at Star City (an integrated resort in Sydney) with a group of friends. The event was actually a society dinner but only a handful of people turn up, so it became a dinner with friends. Anyway, this restaurant, called Buffet Garden (what else?), was apparently famous for their all-you-can-eat prawns.

Their entire menu is all-you-can-eat by the way. I don’t know why the emphasis was on prawns.

Since I wanted to get my money’s worth, I grabbed some prawns and slices of lemon and settled down for a second round of feasting.

As I was chomping down on my prawns, the Secretary-elect of Unimates was tediously peeling the shells off her prawns. The outgoing President, a Chinese Filipino and a true blue, born-and-bred man of the sea (who happens to be doing his Masters in Information Technology), glanced at her and said, “Do you know the best way for peeling prawns?”

The Secretary-elect and I stared at the IT Man of the Sea. There was a best way to peel prawns?

The best way to peel prawns?

“First, you bite off the head,” the IT Man of the Sea said, “and you suck the head.”

The prawn’s head. Not a blowjob.




The Secretary-elect stared at the IT Man of the Sea and said, “Oh, I don’t really like the head.” Then she went back to peeling the shell of her prawns.

Meanwhile, I popped another prawn into my mouth, shell and all.

Yep, that’s how I eat prawns.

On the other hand, everyone at my table was peeling the shells of their prawns. I guess the majority of people eat prawns this way too:




Say hello to naked prawn.

Looks disgusting, right? When I was young, I always thought de-shelled prawns looked like orange-coloured, crescent-shaped testicles. Moving on.

So yes, I eat prawns in its entirety. I believe this is the second best way to eat prawns.

Why second best? 

Well, one of my cousin has the talent of eating a prawn with its shell and after a few quick seconds, he’ll spit out the shell.





I tried doing that but I always get jaw and tongue cramps after a while. So I reverted back to my method.

So why do I eat the entire prawn with the shell?

Well, basically, I’m a lazy person. When I was a young kiddydums, I was taught to remove both head and tail, peel the prawn and then devour it. But after a few frustrated attempts with prawn juice splattering on me, I gave up and popped a prawn into my mouth.

It was… not that bad. Definitely crunchy.

Since then, I have been eating prawns this way.

Some people balked when they see me eating prawns this way. Questions range from: “Don’t you get pricked in the mouth?” to “Is it disgusting?” and to “Do you get hepatitis and food poisoning?”

Do I get pricked in the mouth? Yes, in the beginning. But now I’m pretty skilled enough to not get pricked in the mouth.

Is it disgusting? Not really, and the shell doesn’t dull the taste of the prawns (for me, apparently).

Do I get hepatitis and food poisoning? So far I have been given a clean bill of health. I know correlation does not imply causation, but I’m sure I’m not the only one that eat prawns this way. As long as the prawns are cooked properly, I’m fine, you’re fine, everybody’s fine. This also applies to cooked food in general.

However, eating prawns with shell does have one drawback, especially when I was a kid.

You see, when I first started eating prawns that way, my family and relatives had no idea about my new prawn-eating method. Being a Singaporean Chinese, we would get prawns one way or the other when we had a large family gatherings. At that stage in my life, I was a skinny, little runt, so my parents and relatives like to force-feed me. Every time they see my empty plate, they’ll pile food on it. Prawns included.

During the first round, I’ll polish off every single prawn. Of course, I ate the shells too:




 

Unfortunately, since my plate was devoid of prawn shells, one of my parent or relative would take pity on me, thinking I didn’t have any prawn, so they pile a second helping on my plate:




I would finish off the prawns, albeit at a much slower pace.

Once again, my parents or relative would see my plate empty of prawn shells, so they’ll pile a third heap onto my plate. By now, I’m protesting that I’m too full. But no one actually listens to a small kid’s protestations, do they?

So I have to eat the third heap of prawns:




After what seemed like an eternity, I managed to fill my little stomach with more prawns. But… another relative walks by, glances at my plate and goes, “Oh, you haven’t had prawns yet.”

Another fourth helping. Motherfuc…..




This time, I wised up. I leave the prawns’ heads behind as an incriminating evidence:




Since then, I’ve been eating prawns this way. I’ll make sure to leave some heads rolling so that people know I’ve eaten prawns.

So how do you eat prawns?

P.S. I googled “prawns in Australia” and got this. It’s the top result.


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I found this hilarious music video by nigahiga about two days ago. Make sure you watch the entire thing:



This is KevJumba’s version:



And the acoustic version by Chester See:

But I like this song best:


Brownies

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The first quarter of this year has been filled with events, both for me and the world at large.

And some are not really good events either.

Jan 2011: Revolutions in Egypt, Tunisia and other Middle Eastern and North African countries.

Feb 2011: Earthquake in Christchurch, New Zealand.

March 2011: 9.0 magnitude earthquake in Japan. Civil war in Libya.

Late March 2011: Earthquake in Burma. Civil unrest in Bahrain. NSW Labor Party lost power for the first time in 16 years to the Coalition. NSW Liberal leader Barry O’Farrell becomes NSW Premier.

A very busy first quarter.

For the media, this is a perfect field day for them. The perfect mix of politics, civil unrest and large-scale natural disasters. And since I’m a media politics student, it’s my duty to keep abreast with the news. But I’m reaching the point where I’m sick and tired of the news.

So fuck the news.

For approximately another 10 minutes.

 

Besides being updated on world news and checking if any of my Japanese friends were doing okay, I was busy feeding the masses of the Unimates society.

What’s Unimates? Basically we’re a society that brings together most of the international students in USyd and bring them around Sydney, New South Wales and Australia. More accurately, we are sort of like an international network, where people can meet and make friends with everyone from everywhere.

For this semester, I’m the Coffee and Cakes officer. Basically, this girl and I are the unofficial caterers.

We have Coffee and Cakes every Tuesday morning and the two of us are in charge of organizing, preparing the food and drinks, making sure that the members are kept sated and satisfied. It’s not an easy job, but we have people helping out, so it’s doable.

The only problem is that everyone keep asking for my brownies.

See, the problem was that I baked brownies for my friend’s Christmas party last year. It was my first time but it turned out to be a huge success. Unfortunately, 80% of the people at the party were or still are, Unimates committee members. So they recommended me to make brownies for Coffee and Cakes.

It was a great idea and at least I could bring something homemade for the event. So for the first C+C (Coffee and Cakes), I brought the brownies.

They were gone within 30 minutes and there were still at least 40 to 50 people who had not got the brownies yet.

Considering it was my second time making brownies, the response was pretty good.

The only problem was that the people (aka the people at the Christmas party) came too late and didn’t have the chance to try my brownies. The vice-president of the society, had heard wonders about my brownies but he was too busy helping out and didn’t have a chance to try it out.

So I promised that I would make brownies again.

For the next two weeks I didn’t make brownies cause I wanted to try something else for Week 2 (chili jam meatballs and vegan mashed potatoes) and was too fucking lazy and tired for Week 3.

Week 4 came and I decided to bake brownies.

Some people would usually bake the brownies the night before. But not me. I demand fresh-out-of -the-oven brownies. So I got up at 7am, baked two batch of brownies (after baking brownies for so goddamn many times, it only takes me about an hour) and brought them to C+C.

Good times were had by all.

But it’s tiring waking up so early or staying up all night just to bake brownies. So I’ve decided to put the recipe. I actually got it from this website and follow it closely. But you can make some tweaks to it. Be creative. Just don’t blow up the oven.

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The Recipe

Note: The original recipe calls for 16 servings of brownies. But I double the ingredients to make 32 servings (I have mouths to feed after all). If you want to bake 16 servings of brownies, use a 8 x 8 inches baking tray. If you want 32 servings, use a 9 x 13 inches baking tray. The recipe below is for 32 servings.

 

Brownies:

  • 225 g (1 cup) butter
  • 400 g (2 cups) white sugar
  • 4 eggs
  • 10 ml (2 teaspoons) vanilla extract
  • 55 g (2/3 cup) unsweetened cocoa powder
  • 125 g (1 cup) all-purpose flour
  • 3 g (1/2 teaspoon) salt
  • 2 g (1/2 teaspoon) baking powder

You might want to ease up on the vanilla extract cause if you put too much, your brownies might have a slightly bitter taste. Also, I use Cadbury’s Baking Cocoa Powder (I think that’s the name).

 

Baking time:

 

  • Preheat oven to 350 degrees F (175 degrees C). Grease and flour an 9 x 13 inch pan.
  • In a large saucepan, melt 1/2 cup butter. Remove from heat, and stir in sugar, eggs, and 1 teaspoon vanilla. Beat in 1/3 cup cocoa, 1/2 cup flour, salt, and baking powder. Spread batter into prepared pan.
  • Bake in preheated oven for 25 to 30 minutes. Do not overcook.

    •  

    Seems pretty simple right? That’s because it is. But there’s some things you need to take note first. Always, always preheat the oven first. That’s the first thing you have to do. My oven is some brand-new, fan-forced, Italian-made oven, so I can turn it on and know that it’ll be hot and toasty within a few minutes. If you have an old one, it might take longer. As a rule, I preheat the oven while I’m preparing the batter. Rule one: Know your oven.

    Rule 2: Shift the cocoa powder. Especially when you are greasing the pan. What I do is that I grease the pan with some butter (using a brush makes things easier) and shift a mixture of cocoa powder and flour over the pan. This prevents the brownies from sticking to the pan during the baking process. I usually use one part flour and one part cocoa powder. You don’t have to use a lot. The most you should use is about 1/2 cup. Also, when you are making the batter, I recommend to shift the cocoa powder. It makes the brownies much more ‘smoother’. But it’s up to you to decide.

    Rule 3: Don’t over mix! Just mix the batter enough to make sure that all the ingredients are mixed together. You want to retain the thick, fudgey taste.

    Rule 4: Don’t overcook. Seriously, I can stress this enough. I usually bake my brownies for 25 minutes and then I take it out and let it cool. While it’s cooling, the brownies are still baking due to residue heat. The last thing you want is burnt brownies. So don’t overcook.

     

    As for the frosting:

    • 85 g (1/4 cup and 2 tablespoons) butter, softened
    • 30 g (1/4 cup and 2 tablespoons) unsweetened cocoa powder
    • 30 ml (2 tablespoons) honey
    • 10 ml (2 teaspoons) vanilla extract
    • 240 g (2 cups) confectioners’ sugar

    To make:

    • Combine all ingredients in a saucepan and heat it. Remove from heat and stir. Pour onto warm brownies. Wait for frosting to set.

    I can’t find confectioners’ sugar in Sydney. So I got chocolate icing sugar from Coles. If you use chocolate icing sugar, I suggest using 1 cup. Oh, and shift the cocoa powder.

    The frosting is optional. The brownie is already quite sweet by itself. But if you have a huge sweet tooth like me, then go ahead, make the frosting.

    That’s it! Brownies for all!

    Sorry no pictures.

    Now will people please stop hounding me for brownies.

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    To the Old Man in the toilet at Carslaw Building at University of Sydney this afternoon

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    I rushed into the toilet outside the Science Faculty’s office at Carslaw Building after printing out my class timetable for this semester.

    As I entered the toilet, I saw you standing in front of the long, metal trough where we fine gentlemen relieve ourselves.

    You stared at me as I entered.

    And I stared you as I entered.

    But I averted my eyes to give you some modicum of privacy as you did your business. I hastily entered a cubicle at the other side of the huge toilet to relieve myself.

    As I was in the cubicle, I heard some footsteps walking up and down the length of the toilet.

    After spending 10 minutes in the cubicle, I exited, only to find myself face to face with you.

    Okay, not exactly face to face. But you were standing near the metal trough and was facing the direction of my cubicle. Your entire body language was in one big hesitant question mark, as if you wanted to see if I was still in the cubicle.

    Or else you wanted me out of the toilet but was unsure of revealing your deep desires.

    At that instant, I realized who the footsteps belonged to.

    You glared at me as I walked towards the sinks to wash my hands. Through the mirror, I saw that you returned to the same position at the metal trough and unzipped your jeans. At first, I thought you suffered from an extremely shy bladder or had some urinal problems.

    Or perhaps you had an enlarged prostrate. Or trucker’s bladder. Or whatever the f*** it is.

    Until you started furiously stroking your penis.

    If you were shaking it up and down, I would have understood. Maybe you were trying to get rid of some urine stuck in your urethra.

    But no, you were stroking the entire shaft of your penis.

    And I became momentarily blinded by that sight.

    Blinded with disgust.

    At the same time, you stared at my reflection.

    I hastily looked down and washed my hands with the concentration of a surgeon. As I turned off the taps, I glanced up and saw through the mirror that you were still staring at me, but this time you gave me a look.

    A look that seems to say I know what you did in the cubicle.

    I grabbed a few paper towels, sandpapered my hands dry in my haste and exited the toilet.

    To the Old Man in the toilet at Carslaw Building at University of Sydney this afternoon, I was in the cubicle taking a huge dump because I ate a tonne of barbecued sausages during the Unimates’ Welcome BBQ.

    I was not in the cubicle doing what you thought I was doing.

    I now regret eating those sausages.

    I now regret, even more, going into that toilet at that time.

    So Old Man, if I ever see you in a toilet (and I remember you very clearly, how can I not?), I will make a quick exit, regardless of how urgent I have to answer nature’s call or how crowded the toilet is.

    Because I don’t ever want to watching you f***ing masturbate in the public again.

    What a f***ed up blog entry this is.

    What an even more f***ed up situation.

    Secret Societies and NDP.

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    Warning: Very Long Post and Rant Ahead. For Sharmen and Gilbert, skip if you don’t want to waste your “2 years”.

    Happy reading.

    I’ve been blogging a lot the past 2 days and I have 3 reasons for this sudden spurt of inspiration:

    1) I’m procrastinating on my studies. My reading list is just piling up and up.

    2) I’m bored

    3) I’m procrastinating and cannot be bothered to study. What’s the point in doing things half-heartily?

    4) I’ve got a lot of things to say. Might as well do some verbal diarrhea now cause I’m not going to blog for the rest of the week (I’ll be studying very hard to catch up on the readings).

    Okay, that’s 4 reasons.

    Anyway, I got off MSN with Ranga a few hours ago and we were both talking (me talking, he bitching) about NDP. For those non-Singaporeans, NDP means National Day Parade. NDP falls on 09 August and its the day when Singapore was unceremoniously kicked out of the Malaysia Federation in 1965. We are the only country to be given our independence against our will. What a fucking irony.

    Yes, I know a lot about Singapore’s history. I am FASCINATED by my country’s history. I’ve read Lee Kuan Yew’s memoirs: “The Singapore Story” and “From Third World to First”. And not the abridged versions. The thick, proper ones. And not because I was in History class, I read them out of my own free will (and time).

    Anyway, Ranga was complaining how NDP was just the same old, same old. Halfway through, he mentioned that it was 8:22pm in Singapore and he was feeling very irritated. I asked him why and he said something about the pledge. Then I realized and started LOLing at him through MSN.

    Apparently, I read on Temasek Review’s website that every Singaporean is encouraged to say the National pledge at 8.22pm. Ranga said he was not going to do it and said that serving 2 years in National Service was equivalent to saying the pledge 100 times. I couldn’t help but agree.

    I don’t see the point of having a country-wide mass pledge because it seems too co-ordinated and seems like another Singaporean attempt to break the world record. Okay, let’s say our 3 million odd people says the pledge, what happens after that?

    Nothing.

    Why?

    Cause if you think about it, every morning from Monday to Friday, thousands upon thousands of school kids are saying the pledge during school assemblies. So essentially, we are having a mass pledge day after day during school weeks. I know cause I sang the National Anthem and said the pledge everyday for 6 years in primary school.

    So after the 3 million odd people said the pledge, they’ll just continue with doing whatever they’re doing in their life. What an anti-climax. Same old, same old.

    Halfway through our MSN coversation, Ranga asked if I had to celebrate NDP in Sydney. I told him that the Singaporean Student Society in the USyd might be holding a dinner celebration or something like that. I don’t know cause I didn’t join the society and frankly speaking, I only know one Singaporean student, a girl, from the university. The rest are my army khakis and I’m pretty sure that the 3 of them are not celebrating NDP too.

    Coincidentally, my dad SMSed me to ask if Singaporeans were celebrating NDP in Sydney. I told him I didn’t know and he asked if the embassy were celebrating.

    I replied: “Don’t know, not sure.”

    He asked if I was registered with the Singaporean embassy. I returned his question with a question, asking if I had needed to register with them. Wait later kenna called back enlistment, then how? He told me to register with them so that I’ll be inform about any Singaporean celebrations or events.

    I think I’ll register with them. But only if I run into any difficulties or problems in Sydney. But for me attending Singaporean events? Forget it.

    Back to the MSN conversation.

    Ranga said that he finds these Singaporean Student Societies stupid. In fact, when I told him that it was not only Singaporeans doing it and the Koreans, Chinese, Taiwanese, French, German and Vietnamese and majority of the international students have their own societies, he said he found all of them stupid.

    I agreed with him, more or less.

    I agreed with Ranga because it was kind of pointless on congregating together in a foreign country. I mean, you go to a foreign country to either work or study for the next few years and to me, you’ll need to submerge yourself into the local culture. I mean, what’s the point of staying to a foreign country for a few years and not learning anything?

    I understand that the purpose of having these societies are to provide support and help for their own nationalities. Yes, we all get homesick in a new country and we all feel lost. These nationality societies provide some comfort by reminding us of our home country and hey, you get to speak in your home country lingo and probably get to meet some hot chicks/hunks!

    I don’t find anything wrong with that but I find it rather ironic.

    Let me pick on my own nationality (who else can I pick on?).

    I bet the majority of the Singaporeans student here complain about Singapore constantly. Hey, I admit I’m one of them too. Weather fucking hot and humid. Government fucking restrictive. We guys have to serving 2 years of NS. Fuck lah. Singapore not fun at all lor. Singapore boring lor. Singapore where got 4 seasons, HAH? Singapore no hot chicks/ hunks. Singapore boring, Singapore boring, Singapore sucks, Singapore fucks, Singapore and the list goes on.

    Yet, over here, they congregate together. For what? Just like what Ranga said, when they are in Singapore, they complain and complain. Yet once they are out of Singapore, they form Singaporean societies. He also added that if they loved Singapore so much, they should have just stayed on in Singapore. Exactly my point.

    Step out of your comfort zones! Explore new cultures! USyd has so many international students! Explore their cultures! This goes to all the nationality societies. In fact, USyd, or more accurately, the USyd Union has a society called UniMates and I’m a member of that. UniMates is formed just for international students. They organize outings to explore Sydney and Australian cultures and to provide support for international students. Homesick? Join UniMates. Lost and sleepless in Sydney? Join Unimates. Not sure of what to do with your course? Join UniMates. Want to meet your future BF/GF? Joing UniMates. UniMates. UniMates.

    Yeah, this is blatant advertising but I couldn’t care less. The only thing I see good coming out of these nationality societies is national solitary. Seriously, its a waste of time and money if you don’t make full use of the diverse cultural and social life in university.

    Won’t it be funny if you studied in a foreign country and went back to your homeland, not knowing anything about your host country??? Let’s take this scenario for an example. Let’s take ME for an example:

    Parents: “Ah Boy, ah, so how’s Australia? Got learn anything new?”

    Ah Boy (Me): “Got lor, economics lor.” (I’m doing Arts but majority of the Singaporeans are in Econs and Business).

    Parents: “No lah, I mean, about Australia, Sydney.”

    Ah Boy: “Like what?”

    Parents: “Like their culture, what they eat, drink, how they dress, what’s the lifestyle.”

    Ah Boy: “Err… the shops close very early. Like 9pm. No 24 hours food outlet.”

    Parents: “And?”

    Ah Boy: “Err… uh….. ya, that’s all loh. Oh and got a lot of Singaporeans friends.”

    Parents: “KNN, spend 3 years just to make friends with Singaporeans. Then pay $100,000 for what?”

    I’m not saying that it’s not right to make friends with our fellow countrymen. Neither am I saying that we should start adopting Australian mannerisms, accent, style and et cetera. No, what I’m saying is that we should stop being so insulated in our own little world. It irritates the shit out of me to see every nationality congregating together in the university. Each world making minimal contact with each other or the local population, each world minding their own business. Maybe I’ve only been in school for one month and haven’t explore much of the dynamics of the student population.

    Damn, I should take up anthropology next Semester.

    But yeah, so far what I noticed is each little bubble bouncing around without making contact at all. It’s really a shame for USyd, really.

    I once told the Singaporean girl that I would never identify myself outright as a Singaporean to the Singaporeans in USyd. I’m not trying to avoid them or reject them but for me, if I wanted to make any new Singaporean friend, I would have stayed on in Singapore. If a Singaporean here asked if I am a Singaporean, I would say yes, I’m Singaporean, I won’t deny it. But when I hear a group of Singaporeans chattering nearby, I won’t go up to them and introduce myself as a Singaporean.

    Which brings me to yet another point.

    Neil Humphreys, a British writer who stayed in Singapore for 10 years once gave this remark. During his student days in the University of Manchester, he noticed that the Asians tended to stay within their own groups. They cooked rice, ate rice, spoke Chinese, Thai and other Asian languages and hanged out together instead of mixing around with other nationalities. So Chinese with Chinese. Thais with Thais and so on.

    Now he’s not being racist. No, he’s not. Hear me out first. Or you can go read his travelogues on Singaporean culture. I bet he knows more than the typical Singaporean teenager. So shut up and listen.

    Neil Humphreys came from a working class background. A blue-collared background to be exact. A single parent (his mum) home to be more exact. Now, at that point of time, the class system was still quite entrenched in the British mentality. So for a working class, blue-collared boy like Neil to make it to university, it was quite a surprise. Really. Neil also added that his London Cockney accent was quite distinctive within the student body as most came from the middle to upper classes.

    Instead of trying to blend in with those classes and hiding his blue-collared background, Neil said he decided to stick to his accent and stick out like a sore thumb. He stuck out even more when he befriended a Scottish guy who spoke in very thick Scottish accent. But that’s another story.

    What Neil said was that he found it rather absurd that all the Asians stuck together instead of learning more about their host country’s culture. The only Asian friend he made was a Hong Kongker, who rather succinctly told Neil that if he wanted to make Hong Kong friends, he would have stayed put in Hong Kong.

    Therefore, Neil also encourage one to absorb the local culture. During his 10 year stay in Singapore from the 1990s to 2000s, he stayed in a HDB flat in Toa Payoh and ate in coffee shops. And was subjected to many pokes and prods from Singaporean heartlanders. He did not go to Singapore on some expat packages with some MNCs. He just plop himself in Singapore and called it home for the next 10 years and worked in local, quasi-governmental organization like SPH (Singapore Press Holdings) and as a teacher.

    His Singaporean travelogues should be read. Seriously. But I’m just diverting away from the main issues.

    Right now my favourite ‘Singaporean’ author is staying in some city called Wallagoong or some obscure place, probably trying to absorb Aussie culture there. But that’s not the point.

    The point is, if I wanted more Singaporean friends, I would have stayed in Singapore, innit? INNIT? If I wanted to congregate with other Singaporeans, I would have studied in NUS, NTU or SMU.

    So please stop congregating in nationality societies. It defeats the purpose of studying in a multicultural university.

    Finally, I’ll like to bring up another matter.

    One cold, cloudy day in school, I was trying to walk as fast as I can to the bookstore to get some novels that were required reading for English class. I was only wearing a thin cardigan and sweater and so I was trying to get to the warm bookstore as fast as possible. Along the way, this Chinese woman stopped me and I made a mistake of slowing down for her.

    Before the words came out of her mouth, I knew exactly what she was going to say.

    “Are you a student? Do you go to church? I am from a church nearby and would like to invite you to our bible studies.”

    This have happened to me 4 or 5 times. I realized they always target the asians and never the caucasians. And then they always target ME. WHY? Anyway, I declined her offers as usual and started to increase my walking speed. It was FUCKING cold. The sky was overcast and there was no sun that day.

    Then she asked me where I was from.

    I was still walking, so I said “I am SINGAPOREAN”

    “Oh, so you are Japanese.”

    Well, I was so shocked that I actually stopped in disbelief. The Chinese women took the wrong hint and thought that she caught my attention and so she went on blabbing about some ridiculous thing about how 1 in 2 Japanese are atheists or don’t believe in God or want to but have no idea where to start. She hopes to convince those 1 in 2 Japanese that there is more to life and God is the way and so on. All this while, she kept looking at me.

    So I guess I must be those 1 in 2 Japanese.

    After she finished her little speech, she stared expectantly at me, waiting for my reply. I was cold, tired and irritated and so I gave her a curt “not interested” and walked off.

    Well, halfway to the bookstore, I decided to stop at a bench to readjust my heavy backpack. From the corner of my eye, I saw a couple creeping up towards me.

    They really creep up towards me. I’m not joking. Seriously. They approached me silently and cautiously, eyeing my every movement.

    I felt cornered.

    Before I knew it, the couple were standing beside me and they just stood there, not saying anything.

    I looked up and politely asked them if I could be of any assistance. After all, USyd has dozen of tourists walking around the campus and the couple could be one of them.

    But they were not tourists.

    The male started hesitantly, he asked me in a rather soft voice if I would like to join their bible study and that their church was just nearby. Would I care to join them for one session.

    No, I didn’t care and declined their invitation. Fortunately, they were not as persistent as the previous Chinese lady and so they smiled and left me alone.

    Damn it, I think I need to re-grow my facial hair and look like a hobo. In that case, these people would leave me alone and stop approaching me. I mean, out of all the asians walking around me (and there are A LOT), they always target me. WHY? WHY? WHY?

    Maybe the Singapore Student Society are out to get me through these means?

    Scary.

    I’m fucked.

    P.S. Its 3am and I’m really, really tired. So I’m sorry if this blog just goes on and on randomly. I tried to structure it coherently but am just too tired.