June

was the month
- I had another birthday. I have unequivocally reached the landmark "senior" status.

- In keeping with what I've done for many years now, I made this a birthday month. I made a conscientious effort to live everyday for myself (as much as I can).

- I finally decided to give some real thought to the awful woman's question, "What do you want at this moment in your life?"

The answer is - nothing. I want for nothing.

Leaving aside the good health and the adequate IQ I enjoy but cannot take credit for, the one thing I consciously worked towards is to not be poor. I did not need to be rich, only not poor, so that I may have choices in my life. I reached the goal; I knew it when I reached the target.

So, honestly, I want for nothing.

The silly woman doesn't read my blog (she doesn't know how to access it) so I guess I will write her one day to tell her. On the other hand, maybe not, since it's not anything she can possibly understand as she carries on talking at me.

- This has been a very special month.

p.s. Tomorrow I will be in Brisbane for five days. Just because.

Catching up with the friends

This has been one of the most fun weekends catching up with friends:

Over coffee,
when the girlfriends updated each other about work, travels, bringing up baby and husband. You know, just girl talk, where we actually really understand and empathize with each others' stories. Of course I have my Bali and Paul Ropp stories to tell.

Over dinner,
when the man and I listened with delight about the friends' holiday in Kunming, Yunnan. We were totally enraptured with their stories of the charming lifestyle of the plateau community of LiJiang.

when our delight turned to disbelief that they were so moved as to want to operate an inn/resort there. By evening's end, I have visions of our friends being another China Cuckoo in the making. We will make sure he reads Mark Kitto's book before he does any thing else...

Over sms, elsewhere,
the special friends have arrived in San Francisco, the first leg of their California-Nevada- Oregon holiday. They are having a great time with shopping and dining, using the list of must-do's and must-see's that we compliled.

It has been a fun weekend knowing that just about everybody is doing great :)

Asia Global Bellydance 2010

I have to give it to the contestants. They have the grit and the determination, as well as EQ and the skills to pull it off.

The competition was held in a public venue. Under less than flattering lighting. The contestants focused on dancing to the panel of judges, dance friends and supporters, but they also have to dance to a rudely gawping audience who happened to stumble upon the event on their afternoon stroll through the shopping malls.

traditional/fusion

The contestants are required to showcase one traditional and one fusion number. The traditional category is straightforward so it is comfortable segment for everyone - performers, learned audience and judges.

The fusion segment is another story. I don't think it has ever been adequately described or defined what this is. Maybe the very concept of fusion defies description and definition.

The contestants who came up with a modern take on bellydance by working in elements of jazz and salsa managed to combine everything beautifully into a coherent work of sass and eye-candy. Others played it safe by going "tribal", specifically American-Tribal Style.

Then there were the rest. I assert that mixing genres without a strong grasp of the cultural, historical or social roots of the dance(s) can only produce a messy end-product that is confused rather than fused. I just wish that the non-existent dance form loosely called fusion be dropped altogether. (I really really dislike fusion.)

Lastly, I wish the emcees would stop pounding the contestants with the same inane questions :
- How long have you been learning bellydance?
-Why did you take up bellydance?
- What is the difference betweeen traditional and fusion bellydance?

And the contestants handled every one of the silly questions with grace and charm.

Like I said, I have admiration for these contestants.

And they stared

Remember I bitched about how Singaporeans can stare? Unblinkingly, unwaveringly, rapt in their own world of staring...

Here they are at it again.
What are they staring at? Go ahead. Take a guess :)

ps For answer, click here.

Where the gods live

I remember my early visits to Bali.

I remember how the mornings dawned in shafts of gold and silver through the thatched alang-alang roof of a Bali cottage. It would be another day of peaceful happiness on the island.

Already, young women were making their way to the many, many shrines with offerings of fresh flowers and fruits. And the gods would bestow their blessings upon the tropical paradise in the form of glistening lagoons, majestic mountains, rich paddy fields, blooming orchids and bouganvillas.

Everything about the place and its people was simple, even basic. Amenities for the tourists were at best adequate. There was a sense that this place was heaven on earth, where visitors and locals shared moments of each other's happiness.

I don't always feel this way about Bali anymore. I don't deal well with cab drivers who rig their meters to jump about 30% faster. My mood turns foul at the hotel check-in when they try to switch me away from the class of accommodation I had booked and paid for in advance. I don't like the aggressive purveyors of cheap tourist-grade goods. I am tired of having to fight my way through everything everyday.

These days, I go to Bali specifically for the Paul Ropp warehouse sale. I particularly look forward to seeing the team of women who work the shop floor of the facility.

It has become a habit for us to bring them fresh fruits and pastries from Singapore. It gladdens us to see their eyes shine with delight at the sight of these "luxury" gifts as much as it tugs at my heartstrings to understand that they could otherwise never taste anything as extravagant as this.

And for those brief glimpses of happiness shared with these special people, I feel again that maybe the gods do still live on this island.

The Paul Ropp Experience

Kerabokan is a short distance from Seminyak and Legian, but is a completely different world from the Bali of tourists.

Here, among artisans of wood, granite, glass works is the workplace and warehouse of Paul Ropp.

Here, away from the glitzy and spiffy (read sterile) Paul Ropp outlets, is where I prefer to shop for my bohemian/60s-flower child clothes.

I like that sense of stepping back in time and shopping at source ...

I feel good

I feel good. I have sorted out the clothes to bring to Bali. And the flight isn't till seven in the evening tomorrow! I feel so organised; it is a delicious feeling.

The past 10 days had been somewhat stressful. One weekend ago, there was the family dinner to tough out. Then I ended up having to show up for work a few afternoons last week, including Saturday! But things began to fall in place at the end of the week, starting with a nice quiet evening with a couple of friends over for a dinner of steaks with all the trimmings.

I even had time to reply to all my mail. Well, almost all.

I re-read the annoying birthday email from her; I cringed at the opening sentence where she shouted , "H A P P Y B I R T H D A Y ( M Y N A M E ) then blah blah blah, ending with, "So, my dear (my name), what do you want at this moment in your life?"

I want to not reply to her. I want to delete and forget the email altogether; hey, I can do that. It is my birthday. So I did just that. So there.

Back to my clothes for Bali: I am bringing exactly 2 pairs of Paul Ropp shorts, 2 Paul Ropp bras, 2 crop tops,2 Indian scarves to use as pareos. They take up half an inch of space at the bottom of my suitcase, which I hope to fill with more Paul Ropp clothes.

I feel good. Life is good.

Mistakes from the past

I dread opening the mailbox (e- and snail) in June. I shudder to pick up birthday cards/letters from people I don't want to hear from. Worse if a thank you reply is expected. There's no saving grace all the way around, because they just go in the trash bin, if I even read them at all.

There are two people I particularly dread to hear from unfailingly every year in June and in December.

She is one. She who keeps telling me how much she enjoys hearing from me, then goes silent for months before she writes another bluffing-people lovey-dovey letter/card.She who keeps saying come visit her for her to return hospitality. And went hmm and ermmm when I showed up...

The other is the ex who will still send me cards/letters to tell me how much he loves me and thanks me for the time he was in my life.

I think some mistakes are so horrible that we can never ever be allowed to be truly freed from their coming back to haunt us...

A weekend of Bellydance in June

The weekend of June 19th and 20th is taken up with bellydance activities.

On Saturday June 19th, there will be workshops by Sujee Choi (picture on left),of South Korea. Important details here.

The Asia Global Bellydance Competition (part of SSF10) takes place on Sunday 20th June afternoon. Details here.

A family dinner in June

I quit having birthday dinners/parties after the 21st.

For the next 30 plus years, my birth month became a period that I selfishly reserve for myself - going wherever I want, doing whatever I want, seeing whomever I want.

Then last year I decided to bring in the family for a dinner get-together again because it was a significant year. I couldn't see waiting another 5 years for the next significant birthday - some old people might not be around by then and I might actually be inexplicably sorry about that fact.

I naively thought I could get away with doing a birthday dinner with family once every 5 years. But as the month and day got nearer, they started asking if we'd all be getting together again, just like last time.

I could not bring myself to disappoint them, so I said yes, of course we will. Just like last time.

Of course the old woman created a lot of tension for everyone in the days leading up to the date.

Finally, on D-Day we are at the restaurant that I so looked forward to. Where the man arranged for a private dining room with the most spectacular view of Singapore from the 33rd floor. Where every course of the meal was thoughtfully pre-ordered, painstakingly prepared and now impeccably presented at the table on exquisite dinner servers.

And I realised too late I did not have my camera to record any of this for posterity.

And so.

I shall remember this occasion in my mind's eye and hold it close in my heart for a very long time to come: an evening of happy memories with my family that is more than a difficult old woman.

May

was the month
- I caught myself having to work at not slipping into a funk.

The reasons seem trivial.

There was having to sit at the same dinner table with the old broad. She gave me her "I'm so cool I can say hi to you" smile. I glared at her, air kissed the other women, and sat where I was buffered from her by 2 people. Ten years of repressed animosity toward her was not going to turn into sparkling angel dust just because she turned her smile in my general direction. I want her acknowledgement of her wrong doing (no, it's not over the whisper of a rumour about my face); I want her unreserved apology; then I want to carry on having nothing to do with her.

There was Mother and the conversation I endured which left me so agitated that I had 2 sleepless nights after. I will leave this doozie of a story for another time.

There was the realization that I still have a long list of worthless friends. Seeing them brings no joy; it's just work. I want to retire from this form of work.

- I am glad the month is over. It's like I leave the funk behind when May ended.

I can start anew in June.