The Straits Times Blogs - Bertha Henson

Curious facts about Singapore

2008-11-20T02:04:00Z

Bertha Henson is flummoxed by what the Peruvians think of Singapore.

In Lima

SOMEBODY in Peru's committee tasked with organising the Apec summit this weekend in Lima has a sense of humour - or maybe not.

Among the paraphernalia of paper that greeted journalists covering the meetings was a factsheet in English on "curious facts'' about the 21 members of the Asia-Pacific Economic Cooperation forum.

Most of the countries had three such "curious facts''; Singapore has two. The first is that Singapore has a "large engineering project'' which expanded its territory by the size of two New Yorks. It had the Singaporeans among us scratching our heads and googling New York for its exact size.

The second had to do with just how Singapore expanded its territory. Indonesian islands which "have long been responsible
for providing 80 per cent of the sand'' needed for the "expansion project'', it said.

Of all the curious facts about Singapore, it flummoxed us to think that the Peruvians thought these two points worthy of mention.

What about:
Singapore is the only country in the world to ban chewing gum?
Or: Singapore has succeeded in making new water out of old?
Or even: Singapore is the only country that requires you to not just have a licence to drive, but to bid for a licence to buy a vehicle to drive?

Some thing about our infrastructure, whether port or airport or even the Electronic Road Pricing system would be nice. After all, it says that China's Shanghai has the third largest port in the world, Malaysia has the world's largest hotel with 6,000 rooms and Taiwan has the world's tallest skyscraper at 508 metres.

Move away from such heavy-duty stuff and there can still be: Singapore's national flower is the orchid Vanda Miss Joaquim. At least, this will compare with the elephant being a national symbol of Thailand and pencak silat, which is defined as a "primitive martial art'', as the Indonesian national sport.

The Peruvian focus on Singapore's obsession with its lack of size is a tad better though, than what comes through as the South Korean's obsession with robots. Incheon and Masan cities will be the first in the world to have theme parks dedicated to robots, did you know?

The second admittedly extremely "curious fact'' is that the South Koreans have drawn up a set of ethical rules "to prevent abuse of robots
by humans and vice versa''.

One wonders though what the Filippinos will make of the Peruvians choice of "curious facts'' about their country. All three facts had
to do with Spanish, their erstwhile colonial masters.

So we are educated on the fact that the teaching of Spanish will be reinstated in high schools in the middle of next year; that the use of the Spanish language dates back 400 years and it was an official language until 1898.

Of course, being the host country, Peru is at liberty to create the best profile for itself.

For your information, the Peruvian sea is one of the "richest on Earth'' because the cold Humboldt and the warm Nino currents converge there.

This is probably why the Peruvians put out the second fact: that it is the largest producer of fishmeal in the world. And talking about
food, it says the Peruvians hold the Guiness record for having the "greatest variety of dishes in the world''.

The host country has also slipped in other details about itself, under curious facts about other countries.

In case the Chinese did not know, next year marks 160 years of Chinese immigration to Peru. The Japanese should also realise that the first Japanese landed in Peru on April 3, 1899, on board the Sakura Maru.

Next year will be Singapore's turn to host the Apec meeting.

Word of advice: Do without the "curious facts''.

They just make the guests bristle with indignation.

Rotan (or rotten) way to discipline

2008-11-06T06:01:00Z

Bertha Henson discusses meting out punishment for kids.

SO THIS stepfather doesn't believe in sparing the rod, delivering 100 strokes in two hours on the 10 year old.

It had me thinking about my childhood.

One hundred strokes? The most, 10 strokes for me, I reckon.

Over two hours? Probably in just 10 minutes or less.

Caning is a tiring job for the caner. You must be in full fury to wield the rotan. Never with two canes tied together either, as was the step-father's weapon of choice. In fact, I believe that the impact is greater if the rotan was thinner, worse, if the end was split. You would end up with bleeding cuts, not just beautiful strokes over your skin.

To cane or not to cane?
ST file photo

Another thought that came to my mind was that the 10 year old boy must be really naughty. He played truant, didn't do his homework and was caught lying to his teachers. I'll wager it wasn't his first brush with the cane.

So should I surmise that past punishments didn't work?

It used to be that a caning was what you can expect at home after some transgressions in school. (In this case, it was the boy's teachers who blew the whistle on the step-father) I wasn't the only child with rotan marks in class. Sometimes, we would compare each other's injuries with pride, or commiserate with each other in tears.

And never, ever would we even think of skipping school if the rotan is what we can expect when we get back home. Play truant? Better not even think about going home then.

Rewind some 30-plus years and I think both parents would have landed in jail, for what is now seen as brutal treatment of minors. In fact, my father was once called to my brother's primary school to face his principal, as his teachers had noticed cane marks on him.

My family had a great laugh when told that my father was suspected of child abuse. In my family, the cane was wielded with impunity and while we were scarred. it was only temporary.

When I was in the United States some years back, I was asked about our practice of "flogging'' prisoners. Truth to tell, I have always associated "flogging'' with whips. We use the cane, a thick one and a doctor has to be around to ensure that the criminal would survive his just deserts - that's somewhat what I said.

Jaws dropped, especially after I add that most homes had a smaller version of the prison cane for naughty children. Some enlightenment came to their faces when I asked what they used to discipline children. The answer: The belt or the garden hose. Well, so there!

The rotan, I guess, conjures in those living in what they deem civilised nations, some primitive image of punishment .

A few weeks ago, a childcare teacher was proscribed for rubbing chilli on a child's mouth.

Some younger colleagues were astounded. I opened my mouth to say so what? It was something that's done to discipline naughty kids, I said. In other countries which deem themselves more civilised, a similar act would be "washing out your mouth with soap''.

Taking into account cultural differences, I guess the rotan here is the belt over there, the chilli is the soap.

I never got the chilli treatment but I did get the onion treatment. Here's how you do it: Crush some shallots into some baby oil and smear it liberally over eyelids and under eyes. It's the punishment for cry-babies. You cry because you simply cannot stop crying - and next time, you think twice about throwing a tantrum.

Okay, so 100 strokes is way too much for a kid to endure. In fact, he had to be hospitalised.

And the chilli treatment from someone who is not the kid's parent is unacceptable.

I doubt though that either kid will be scarred for life. More likely, the adults will be.

Working 9 (pm) to 5 (am)

2008-11-03T07:55:00Z

Bertha Henson observes how the seedier side of night life has evolved.

DUXTON Hill was where I used to hang out in my much younger days, when the grandly conserved shophouses were still sourcing their first tenants. That's circa late 80s and early 90s.

I remember the original Elvis at one corner, where the computer-nerd executive-types hung out and even a Flying Dutchman restaurant which which has no connection with the radio deejay. Then there was J J Mahoney's - a karaoke place for the English-literate but tone-deaf. (Journalists used to hang out there by the way and it's where many story ideas were born in an alcoholically-hopeful haze.)

It was, in those days, pretty atas or high class. Bars were private cosy corners although it had the usual handful of inebriated angmohs who were tolerated by the locals. Good conversations were to be had and a woman, even while alone, was never molested. Nor even put upon.

And yes, bar prices were pretty, well, pricey.

When I returned to the area for a reunion with pub-kakis from work after a hiatus of some eight years or so, I gasped at the changes that have been wrought. The bars I used to frequent were filled with Filipinas at "work''.

No choice, said the owner. They bring in the men. Yes, they do but not the sort that would make a "non-working'' woman like me comfortable. Then I again, I would drink as much as the next man out to get his kicks under the table or in the alley. Someone has let the place go from hip and glamorous to so-so and now downright dinghy and seedy. So who do you call? Vice-busters?

It's a downright shame what the place has become. After so much hoo-haa about the conservation work to protect the heritage of the area, we decided that we can turn the place over to the working women to turn tricks.

Is this a question of economics? Too many pubs fighting for the same dollar? If so, we'd better start figuring out if other currently atas' places will degenerate as well.

By the way, some of the men who entered the pubs were hapless tourists who probably believed Duxton Hill environment was quite different from that of Orchard Towers. Poor things. At least, those who go into the four floors of whores know what they were getting into....

Or do they?

Has it escaped anyone's attention that the working women have spilled out onto the streets and accosting men along the main Orchard Road belt itself? Believe you me, I have no problems with working women hawking their wares in designated confines.

But I do take umbrage when they congregate around taxi stands and the queue line has to form away from them so passengers avoid getting hassled or, in the case of the Caucasian men, pawed upon.

During the Formula One weekend in September in particular, they were in Orchard Road in droves. What was clear was that most were freelancers trying for a piece of the action, rather than the usual heavily-made up types who haunt the area. Simply-dressed, rather than skimpily-dressed, they waited at traffic lights and hooked themselves on the arm of men walking alone.

One Caucasian was escorted across the road and some metres down Orchard Road before he finally shook her off. She returned to her position at the traffic stop somewhat dejectedly.

I was amused. But not so amused as to wonder what my country has become. There's no need for so much seediness and slime to be a hip and happening place, right?

Relaunch madness

2008-08-04T11:46:00Z

Bertha Henson recounts the madness pre-080808.

SO MUCH work, so little time.

Eyes glaze over the hundreds of words on the screen. Think pictures. Think graphics.Focus on the newspoint, don't let the story drag on and on. Keep the story short. Keep it tight. No, make it longer, give it depth. Let it rip.

That's the trouble with newspaper relaunches. The good ole' kiasu people that we are want to "prepare'' for it. Thing is, how does a newspaper "prepare'' for the news that's months, weeks and now, thankfully, days away?

So we end up thinking of trend stories, "inside'' stories and other feature-type stories. There will be some lamenting - that we are in the newspaper business, not the magazine business.

Would anyone really wanted to read reams and reams about some issue or someone?

Aren't readers supposed to be time-starved? Want their news bite-sized? New complication: Should we leave such "briefs'' to the Internet and give readers something meatier to chew on? After all, today's newspaper is yesterday's news.

So we end up doing trend stories, "inside'' stories and other feature-type stories. And there will come that niggling suspicion that we will have "too much''.

And the other big question: What if something big breaks on August 8th? Or August 9th? Or August 10th? Another tsunami, a bridge collapse, an aircrash?

All that work will be pushed back and, in journalistic parlance, scheduled or "skedded'' for a later date when the pages are big and plenty and the world calms down again.

Then we end up going mad.