Life, Laughter and Everything Else

One of the greatest joys of this exchange are dinners in a cross cultural setting that brings forth current day issues and culturally diverse opinions on it. Recently I had the privilege of being part of one, which began when one of the girls, who was doing her phD in Sweden, expressed her concern of how difficult it would be for her to find a husband in China given her superior educational background. The issue she said, would not be raised by her potential husband, but by his parents stuck in an outdated attitude towards marriage. Her situation received a lot of support from the table and the discussion went onto include how the girl, if she was better educated and older would be at the receiving ending of much criticism from the elders. We talked about how education was changing attitudes towards these ways of thought, how today, what mattered was the person and not society’s measure of him or her and how we were all becoming more humane. In this mood of openness, I decided

Somebody up there do not want me to club. It has been one experience that has eluded me despite my multiple visits, that has brought as much excitement as me sitting in a meditative pose.  This is all the more interesting because my intention was simply to get a feel of it, and not kickstart a career as a party animal, that would either way not work for a person who dared not even to dance in the shower. Perhaps  though, it is not the circumstances, but the person to blame. I should have known I was not the party kind the very first time I set off. As I was tying my shoe laces, my father would politely enquire where I was going to. “Going to club”, I responded. “What? Like a community club?”, he carried on. I am not the most superstitious of persons, but when you are about to do something, it has to start off on the right tone. There and then, my father set the expectations of me, and all the stamps I received on my waist before entering the club became but somebody’s

One of the most remarkable thing about being an exchange student and going out to see the rest of the world is that you are hit by the sudden realisation that there is a lot, as in really a lot of people with whom we are sharing this planet with, about whom we never really bothered to know more about and compared to whom we share as many similarities as differences. As a Singaporean, these circumstances have put to the test, the strength of my identity and how proud I am of my life back home, especially when one my European friends ask me, “So tell me more about Singapore”. And to describe my life back there, I have no need to look further than the group of friends who followed me here, and it is with some pride, some amusement and some could-do-better feeling that I write this article. A Swedish guy I once met at a bar told me how his Singaporean friend described Singaporeans and Swedes as the most emotionally private people on this planet. The Swedes I have noticed thus far,