It's A Wrap

If a building falls in Irving and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound? We’ll never know because Texans paid $25 a carload to watch a stadium crumble from a ton of dynamite. They paid money to suck in a mushroom cloud of ash, dirt and, I assume, asbestos. Big Wow.

In Singapore structures go up and come down on a regular basis. The average lifespan of an apartment building is seven years. Some say it is because the weather makes them unstable. Others believe the constant rise and fall is in an effort to provide jobs. No matter the reason, the demolition is a mind-blowing art form.

First, the construction crew wraps the structure. Christo could probably learn a thing or two from their performance. Scaffolding rises up and then a mesh canvas is stretched over one storey at a time. The covering may not keep the noise down, but it keeps the dust from rising up and settling on the neighborhood homes and in the neighbor’s lungs.

Once wrapped, the heavy equipment arrives. Cranes pluck backhoes from flatbeds and hoist them to the top of the building. When I watched the process, the entire street stood still. Construction workers from a nearby site stopped what they were doing and took turns taking their picture in front of the action. The slightest blow of wind would swing the dangling 2-ton backhoe as it hung over the 20-storey building...and us!

Systematically the levels disappear. Dump trucks haul the concrete, rebar and other building bits from the site. Before the trucks leave the work zone, two guys stand on either side and hose it off. The load is properly tied down and washed. Then one day the building vanishes.

The deconstruction took several months. I snapped the pictures on my phone for fun – a before and after for my personal memory of life in Singapore. However, when Texas Stadium made international news, I knew I had to share the dynamite process of demolition in Singapore. And people get to watch it for free.

Law & Disorder

My apartment complex was the site of big news in Singapore. On 3 March, a helper fell to her death from one of the apartment towers at Draycott 8. Here is the story as reported by The Straits Times:

Mar 3, 2010
Maid Attacks Bosses, Jumps
A FILIPINO maid hit the head of her employer's wife with a clothes iron, then grabbed eight knives from the kitchen, cut her employers in a frenzied tussle, before plunging eight floors to her death.

This shocking tragedy happened on Saturday morning at Draycott 8, an upscale condominium on Draycott Park, off Scotts Road.

The 30-year-old maid had been working for a 47-year-old Caucasian and his 45-year-old Japanese wife for just a few months, according to Chinese evening daily Lianhe Wanbao.

Wanbao said on the day of the incident, the maid seemed extremely agitated and suddenly attacked the boss' wife with the iron, causing her to bleed profusely.

Shocked by the maid's sudden display of violence, the couple tried to question her but before they could do it, the maid grabbed eight knives from the kitchen, and waved them by a window at the balcony, weeping and creating a din.

When coaxed by her employers to calm down, the maid turned on them instead, and stabbed them as they tried to bring her to safety. Moments later, she jumped off from the window as the shocked couple watched in horror. She died on the spot.

The couple was admitted to a hospital for treatment for minor injuries, and have since been discharged.

As an American, I am accustomed to reading detailed news stories. Having lived in New York before moving to Singapore, I had the luxury of choosing between three newspapers reporting on the day’s events: The New York Times, the Daily News, and the New York Post. No two articles were ever alike. Plus, I had the added bonus of the Post’s witty headlines, for example "HO NO!" for the Eliot Spitzer sex scandal. No doubt the Post writers would have hit a new low creating a headline for the tragic death, but this is a one-source town so there is no need to be sensational.

The expat community, the blog-o-sphere, and the foreign helpers have all jumped to conclusions about this Filipino woman’s death. Web postings and blogs reported on the death word-for-word as written in the article. (The Chinese newspaper is owned by The Straits Times.) My friends and friends of friends called and texted me to give their helper’s version: a seasoned pro putting her boy through school working for a tyrannical woman would not snap, would not jump. She was provoked, she was pushed. A café society blog wrote, “…employer had affair with maid, wife confronts the 2 of them, husband defends maid, wife picks up knife to attack husband, cuts herself in the process. Maid tries to help by throwing iron at wife, husband comes to his senses and throws maid off the building. Couple makes up story. The end.” A forum of Singapore residents wrote that this was a good example of why "it is better to hire Vietnamese helpers than Filipinos."

What really happened? I don’t know. They are my neighbors, yet I don’t know their names. The manager says, “We ask you and your helpers not to talk about it.” The doormen say, “These things happen.” No reporters hanging outside my gate for the inside scoop and no follow-up features. The story is, dare I say, dead.

A Story of O

Why Oscar? From what I learned, there are several versions of naming the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences award statuette Oscar. Officially, it is called the Academy Award of Merit. A bit stuffy for Hollywood, no wonder a nickname was created. One theory gives the Oscar-naming honors to Bette Davis who, in 1935, likened the statuette to her husband. Legend also says that in 1939 an Academy librarian, Margaret Herrick, thought the sketch of the award looked like her Uncle Oscar. A favorite explanation, and the one on most blogs and online sites, is that the name was taken from an old vaudeville joke, “Will you have a cigar, Oscar?” I do not know what that means, but up in smoke comes to mind (a reference to a joke or an act bombing?). Up in smoke. To come to nothing.

I wonder if Bette’s husband or Margaret’s uncle were rolling in their graves knowing their name is associated with Hollywood’s biggest night, especially this year’s. The Oscar was stretched thin and the program long. The shift to nominate 10 movies rather than the usual 5 smacked of an industry’s desperation for cash. And speaking of “smack”, nice gum chewing Sarah Jessica Parker and Cameron Diaz! A potentialy sticky situation occurred when a woman in blue hijacked the Short Form Documentary winner’s acceptance speech. The craziness ended when the microphone cut off and the orchestra leader played Thanks for the Memories. I’m sure the dead Oscars of legend were miffed to see that Lauren Bacall was not paid tribute to at the Awards, rather she was cast aside with stand-and-applaud honors. While the program paid tribute to those the industry lost, it didn’t seem so heartfelt because they didn't fully honor the lifetime achievement winners. To those of us still alive, Bacall is Hollywood. It would have been something to hear her entire speech.

This year's Academy Awards only had time for the winners and losers. After all, there were nearly a dozen Best Picture nominations to summarize. With the exception of Kate Winslet, all the presenters said, “and the winner is” rather than the standard, “the Oscar goes to.” I don’t think they have announced “winner” since Bette won her Oscar statuette and said it had a flat bottom like her husband's! So now Meryl Streep is not even a winner for being nominated, she’s just a loser. For fuck sake, what does the Academy want Meryl to do? Hang the moon?

On the other hand, the Awards did present a fabulos win, Katherine Bigelow! Midway through the Academy Awards, I half expected Bob Costas to break in with a statuette-count update between The Hurt Locker and Avatar. How many times were the presenters going to mention that James Cameron’s visionary masterpiece took over a decade to make and is the biggest grossing movie of all time? Looks as if with all the money in the world a Best Picture or Best Director Oscar was “unobtanium” to Cameron. Avaterd added up to zilch.

Not for nothing, the annual Academy Awards are a big deal. It brings people together, presents topics of conversation, and rewards Hollywood with a boost in last minute box office tallies from people going to the cinema to see all the nominees and/or nominated movies. More importantly, it is broadcast worldwide. Since the nominations were announced, my sister, Valerie, and I emailed our predictions and talked about the awards being a battle of the sexes, exes and military might. Two days before the Awards, she watched Inglorious Basterds and I went to see Up in the Air (it finally made it to my part of the world). Then, on Sunday night in Ohio and Monday morning in Singapore, while Valerie sipped champagne and I drank coffee, we Skyped and watched the first half of the broadcast together. Isn’t that something?

Everything's Coming Up Orchids

Orchids, orchids everywhere! The national flower of Singapore is an orchid - the Vanda Miss Joaquim, to be exact. The National Orchid Garden, located at the highest point in the Singapore Botanic Gardens, displays over 600 species and nearly 500 hybrids. “Orchid” can be found in the name of hotels, corporations, restaurants, streets and residential communities. Orchids are the pride of the nation.

I’ve never been a big fan of orchids. It began when I discovered Raymond Chandler and Damon Runyon at the tender age of 14. (Bear in mind that my mother would not allow me to read any book by Judy Blume.) I was babysitting every Saturday night for the hippest mother in my neighborhood. When I couldn’t watch another episode of Love Boat and Fantasy Island I hit her bookshelf for a “good” read. Chandler’s first, The Big Sleep, was my first too. The dialogue between the dames and dolls, thugs and two-bit players captivated me. I felt a bit naughty reading the thoughts of men, but also wiser for learning the language of the denizens of the underbelly of the cities. It is my pulp fiction favorite partly because of Howard Hawk’s first-rate movie version staring Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall. In both the book and the movie there is a brief mention of orchids.

The other night I was watching The Big Sleep on TCM again for the first time. My dislike for orchids stems from the following exchange between Philip Marlowe and General Sternwood:
Sternwood: I seem to exist largely on heat, like a newborn spider. The orchids are an excuse for the heat. Do you like orchids?
Marlowe: Not particularly.
Sternwood: Nasty things! Their flesh is too much like the flesh of men, and their perfume has the rotten sweetness of corruption.

Knowing that William Faulkner wrote the screenplay (amazing, right?), I decided to read the same scene from the book. As written by Chandler:
Sternwood: I seem to exist largely on heat, like a newborn spider. The orchids are an excuse for the heat. Do you like orchids?
Marlowe: Not particularly.
Sternwood: They are nasty things! Their flesh is too much like the flesh of men. And their perfume has the rotten sweetness of a prostitute.

Corruption and prostitutes. Would it be too obvious to compare the city-state to pulp fiction? Is it base to relate the racket of sand smuggling into Singapore with the underground world of Eddie Mars? Is it rotten of me to point out that Miss Singapore wore an elaborate orchid costume during the 2009 Miss Universe pageant? That wouldn’t capture the essence of Singapore now would it?

Black & White and Red All Over

The official language of Singapore is English. Other languages spoken are Malay, Tamil and a host of Chinese dialects. After that, there’s Singlish, a Pidgin of sorts formed from Singapore’s shanty past of immigrants and uneducated peasants. One word rising up through all tongues is ang mo, slang for Caucasians/Westerners.

Ang mo = red hair. It is Hokkein, an ancient and local Chinese language. Sometimes it is spelled "ang moh," but no matter the spelling the derogatory meaning is the same. The word refers to the fair-haired Western settlers of Singapore. Not that the settlers were all redheads, rather, they were all evil. At a recent party a few expats were debating whether "ang mo" is racist. No one could agree because it is commonly used by whites, locals - everyone. Ang mo is not censored in the media or from social conversation, unlike the Japanese term, gaijin.

Gaijin = ghost person or foreigner. It is broadly used in the country for anyone not Japanese. I lived in Tokyo for a few years and do not remember seeing the word in print, but I do remember hearing it spat out at me in the subway once when I exited before the locals. The origin of gaijin has a little color in it. The Portuguese were the 1st to visit Japan. They were referred to as nanbanjin, “southern barbarians.” Oddly enough, when the British and Dutch arrived they were referred to as komojin, “red-haired people.” All these red words for white people make me think of a common pejorative I grew up hearing in the 1970s, honky.

Honky = white person. It was used by blacks to disparage whites. I laugh now because it sounds as dated as the Richard Pryor - Gene Wilder bathroom scene from Silver Streak. However, it was never meant to be funny, especially when delivered by Shaft. John Shaft. I can find no resource which delineates the true origin of honky (also spelled with an “ey” or an “ie”), but from the Urban Dictionary to Wikipedia two theories are constant: "honky" is a term for a person who frequented honky-tonks, or a white man honking his car horns for prostitutes in the African America red-light districts. In one reference, I read that honky stems from a West African word, honk nopp, “red-eared person.”

Red = evil. That would be the Philosophy 101 conclusion, but it isn’t that simple. The devil is often depicted as wearing red, but so is Santa Claus. Red M+Ms are toxic, yet red tomatoes are healthy. The Red Army signifies blood shed, yet the Red Cross is a sign of aid. Red is actually black-and-white.

Merry New Year!

Bright Lights, Big City-State

The holiday season centers on pleasing the eye and touching the heart. It’s about continuing with tradition, keeping in touch with family and friends, and preventing mosquitoes from breeding. In Singapore, dengue fever is always in season! Most live Christmas trees sold come with a powder to mix in the treestand water to keep mosquitoes from breeding. Posted signs in garden centers where trees are sold warn: If They Breed You Will Bleed. Ho! Ho! Hum...

Christmas fever is hot in the city-state. Each year a corporation decorates Orchard Road, the main shopping drag. The sponsor adorns, garlands, and lights the sidewalks, trees and everything in between. The shopping malls and buildings along the stretch decorate and light their facades from top to bottom. As if it were not bright enough, there is the “Orchard Road Christmas Light-Up.” For one day only, on December 25th, a portion of the road closes and fills with even more brightly lit displays.

We woke on Christmas morning to a solid, steady rain. It lasted all day, but ended at dusk in time for us to “Light-Up.” The road was so bright that night the birds were chirping. Thousands of people were shuffling, pushing, spitting, and posing in the streets and on the sidewalks. Singapore’s Christmas mass.