Miss Brown's (own) Story

Hitherto for all the articles that I've written about Miss Brown, I've tried to write them in her voice, in her perspective, and from her viewpoint. Perhaps they might be wrong, perhaps they might be right- we don't know- no one can fully read another person's mind- but, having known Miss Brown for slightly under ten years, and having been on closer terms with her for the last five, suffice it to say that I understand her better, and that I understand what she hopes for, and yearns for. 

 

A little background about Miss Brown first, though- for it is essential that we see her as a person. Not a person with a history- that, we all are- but a person with a childhood, a person with a family, a person with a life. 

------------------------------------------------------------

Miss Brown is today an elderly lady pf just over 80 years old. Born (somewhere) in China during the 1930s, she came down as a child to the Peninsula with her father, mother and elder brother. The family lived (somewhere) on the east coast of the Peninsula. When it was that the little family moved back to China, we don't know- Miss Brown's information is vague on the timing- but when the family next came back down to the Peninsula, it was just her mother, elder brother, and herself. 

 

Her father had passed away in China. 

 

How her mother dealt with the loss, again, we don't know. Women, especially widows, had had to make choices that women of today no longer need to make. Let's just say it would not be surprising if Miss Brown's mother threw herself into hard work and raising up her children. We have no idea what it is her mother did when they lived on the east coast. All we know is that Miss Brown remembers going out to the fields with the other children and catching frogs, as well as fish in the river.

 

According to Miss Brown, thereafter came a season whereby she was always traveling up and down the Peninsula from the town where her mother was, to Singapore, where she stayed with a relative in the shophouse, and where she attended school. I suppose it was her mother who decided that she was unable to work and look after two children at the same time, so whilst her elder brother stayed up north for a while, she came down to live with a relative. 

 

It was around this time, it is presumed, that Miss Brown's distinctive personality started to develop. Living with relatives in however large a shop house, is not the same as with one's own mother and brother, and one guesses that Miss Brown- as a child of 12 or 13- never felt like she was welcome in the relative's house. She doesn't mention how day to day living was like- perchance she doesn't remember- but she does mention playing badminton in the alley next to the house. 

It was here, likely, and we can only hazard a guess, that she learnt to appreciate- or depreciate- the significance of possessions. It can be hard to explain without sounding like it is a disorder, so I shall leave it as it is, and we'll just have to accept that even though in extreme of cases it can become a disorder, for Miss Brown, learning not to place any feelings on her possessions was a form of survival. That did not mean that she didn't want anything. ON the contrary, she wanted it very, very badly, and would do anything to keep the thing with her.

I've digressed a little from Miss Brown's story, but this is important, for her love of possessing would play a pivotal role in her life much later.
 

Miss Brown received a Chinese-based education, studying at a school down the road from her relative's home- and again, she changed schools several times- three, I think- but she did eventually manage to graduate with a certificate.  Onwards to dressmaking and hair-dressing school she went thereafter, where it was likely the most interesting time of her life, learning with her class, interacting with her friends, going on special excursions and outings. 

She met and married her husband in the 1960s. By then her mother and elder brother had been in the city for quite some time- at least a decade or so- and she was running her own salon somewhere on the eastern side of Singapore. Two years short of Independence, Miss Brown married. 

She suffered a miscarriage in her early years of the marriage, and it was a trying time, especially since she lived with her in-laws (and their gossipy tongues) in their large shop house. It was a time where women who married were expected to have children, and any woman who didn't was subject to ridicule and sarcasm from the family. It was a challenging time for Miss Brown. Her husband worked in the Police, and he was hardly at home, so she was left on her own to handle the insults and taunts. 

It was in such an environment that Miss Brown sought for her first child. There was a girl, she was told, whose parents had decided to put up for adoption, and so Miss Brown went to see the child. According to her, during that very first visit, the little girl of around six months old, grasped her finger and refused to let go. 

For the rest of her life, no matter what or how the relations were between her and her adopted daughter, Miss Brown would cling to this memory. of the little girl (innately) desiring her, and choosing her to be her mother.

This would have done well had the girl understood what she meant to her adopted mother and the degree to which Miss Brown needed, and wanted, the girl in her life.

But she didn't.

A fact which did not surface until much, much, much later in life.

And so the girl grew up in the shop house together with her adopted mother, her adopted father, and all the relatives on her paternal side. She did not know she was adopted- her adoptive parents had changed her name to that of the family's. Whether or not the paternal side treated her differently, whether or not she had overhead any gossip, or whether or not she had been the victim of taunts by her cousins, we don't know- it has never been said.

What has been said, however, is that she discovered her adoption papers when she was all of 27-29 years old. It may have been earlier, but who knows?

Who knows what another person really thinks?

Who knows what is in the heart of another?

No one.

Not even a counsellor or a psychiatrist.

She didn't confront her adopted mother upon discovery of her adopted papers. Why, we don't know for sure, but it would not surprise anyone if there was a change in attitude towards her adopted parents thereafter.

Was it made obvious?

Were there tantrums or demands or anything whatsoever as in the description of acting out?

No, none of that.

None whatsoever.

But distance was quietly created.

Where once mother and daughter went to many places together and talked together, where once mother and daughter even dressed alike- when she was already 17- now there was a quiet distance.

There was an opportunity for her to work in another country. She took it. And in doing so, left behind her mother for close to six months. Miss Brown, who had never been separated from her daughter, and even her children, suddenly found her days having to be spent without her daughter by her side.

Even with the phone calls from her daughter on an almost daily basis, it must have been startling for her. What was said in those phone conversations, we don't know- there are no notes nor are there any diaries on those conversations- if they are, they are probably kept somewhere- but somehow they must have made Miss Brown feel for the very first time that her beloved daughter was starting to drift from her.

No surprise she would feel this way, for she had never been separated so far from her daughter- and for so long! What else would her daughter not be capable of, if she could bear to be away from her mother for so long?

And so Miss Brown decided not to tell her daughter that her birth father had passed on.  

It would be years later that Miss Brown finally found out that not only did her daughter know that her birth father had died, not only did she know that Miss Brown had concealed the information from her, but also that she deeply resented her adoptive mother for not letting her see her birth father for the last time.

It would also be around this time years later that the deep-rooted resentment the girl had towards her mother finally showed its claws and horns, with previously unheard-of anger, desire, greed and hatred unveiling itself.

By then the girl was no longer in communication with her mother. 

The separation was, shall we say, abrupt- very, very abrupt.

How shall we say it?

This is a girl whom you have been living with for no less than four and a half decades. All through her childhood, her teenage years, her young adulthood, her adulthood, all these years you and her have been together- with bouts of separation, yes- but still a bond between mother and daughter.

This is a girl whom you have loved and accepted with her personality, her quirks and her desires. When she told you she was in a relationship with a married man, you disapproved, but gradually came round to it anyway, accepting him as part of your life, having him over for meals and inviting him to come along for special occasions, placating your husband when he disapproved, even going to their apartment to recover when you fell ill.

This is a girl whom you believed would take care of you whenever you needed her- so much so that when you had an ear infection, you told the doctor (proudly) that you wouldn't be going home but your daughter would be coming to fetch you to her place to recuperate for a few days, which eventually turned out to be a few weeks, then a few months.

This is also the girl whom you had been seeing day on day even as your other child handled his career because you held the position of power in his workplace and so decided that it would be good to have her join him and herself in the workplace where it would then become a family business and that, even though she lived with her married man boyfriend, through the business, the family would be kept together. 

Miss Brown never expected the separation- it had not occurred to her that such a possibility could happen.

At that time she, her daughter and her daughter's boyfriend had been living together in the same apartment for close to three years. Sure, it was a little cramped, and there was much noise, and her daughter didn't tell her everything, but she had gotten used to their routine. Mornings she would wake up and wait as they rushed around getting ready for work. Evenings sometimes she would prepare dinner and they would come home to eat. At other times they would buy dinner back for her.

For a while, Miss Brown thought that It might have been the Stroke that caused her daughter to move out of the house and leave. After all, not everyone had the capacity to be a caregiver and look after someone whilst needing to work. And then she thought it might have been because of the medical expenses brought about by the Stroke. Or that it might have been because her daughter felt ashamed and responsible for not noticing that her mother was suffering the onset of stroke and told her to sleep it off.

But even if she did feel the pressure, why did she wait till three months after her therapy commenced to announce her departure, and have it happen so abruptly right after?

Why did she not notice that her mother was in fact getting better and that she was more independent and did not need her help to get around? Yes, in the earlier days- the first few days after coming home from the hospital- she had needed her help- even to the point of simply opening her mouth and letting herself be fed soft fruit. But that was not needed anymore. Her therapy was good enough that she could go out together with them, have meals together, she could even cook for them if she tried.

Why did her daughter not see that?

And why did her daughter take the process of separation so literal and so methodical that everything was done step by step?

We do not know whether it would have been less painful had the separation- or as some of us like to call it- abandonment- been 100% immediate- it might have been a worse shock for her- but whatever it was, for Miss Brown, finding out day by day that the opportunities for interaction, and communication, were decreasing and becoming lesser and lesser, was a very painful reminder that her daughter no longer wanted her, no longer wished to speak to her, didn't care how she was anymore, and was totally done with her.

------------------------------------------------------------

What actually happened in the gradual abandonment, I shall leave for the next article- this article is already a very long one- and you may judge for yourself if the methodical, calculated process was any better for her.

the Swatow dimsum

This place, tucked away in the heartland neighbourhood of Toa Payoh, has fast become one of my new favorite places for dim sum- and hearty dim sum buffets- because dim sum is best appreciated when there's variety- lots of it- on the table- and at a flat price.

 

Call me suaku, but until I turned up here at Swatow Seafood, it never occurred to me that a place this far from Chinatown (and her outskirts) would have dim sum this good.

 

Of course I'd forgotten about the growth of housing estates that sprung up all around Singapore in the mid 70s, the wave of people who went along with it, and the enclaves that 'resettled' in their new high rise flatted homes.

 

Swatow Seafood is as Chinese a restaurant as it can be. From her décor to her table setting to her service, the place exudes a subliminal grandeur that even tea-drinking, newspaper-reading, quiet-discussing elderly can abide. There're strong hints of the Teochew heritage all around the restaurant, of course, especially at the entrance, where two formal-looking chairs, and two ceremonial robes (male and female) hang on the wall behind.

 

Not only do they make for a great post meal photo-op, they also let you in on a little of cultural appreciation. 
 

Elements of the Teochew culture are rich here, starting from the very first dish that they serve to you. You would think you came here for dim sum, yes indeed, but the first plate that appears on your table is a smorgasbord of little appetizers that include strips of cold jellyfish, steamed broccoli, smoked duck, a bowl of soup, and some sort of fish cake.  

The dim sum comes thereafter- trundling along in steaming baskets and hot trays on trolleys pushed by the wait staff who introduce the dishes and make recommendations as they go along. They know their stuff- these ladies- and can answer questions easily on the ingredients and whether the filling is too sweet or even what ratio of ingredients there are inside that pastry puff.

I usually get my favorites- char siew pau, har gow, siew mai, cheong fun, yam puff, prawn puff and char siew sou. Between the yam puff and the prawn puff, I actually like the yam more, but who can resist a big, pink prawn inside a crusty deep fried piece of flour? The char siew pau is, of course, fluffy and warm and soft and I have to decide whether to be refined and eat it with chopsticks, or go barbaric and eat with my hands. The cheong funs- I usually take prawn and char siew- are warm, soft and silky and we split the three pieces equally between us so it's all good and fine.

They have some lovely offerings here that I don't quite find elsewhere and so I always make sure to get those. 

Like fried siew mais.

I know it's not really big a deal- it's just fried- but it is done really well and it is unusual! 

Then there's the red bean pastry. 

Sure, it is not too hard to find, but I like how it adds a sweet-savory alternative to the meal repertoire.

From time to time I have the radish pancake (where I'm tempted to eat only the crispy sides) or the pumpkin pancake (where I'm also tempted to eat only the crispy sides).

I have the custard pau and the pau with salted egg filling too if the mood strikes. Whoever came up with salted egg filling- described with a most grandiose sounding name- is a genius, and it takes effort to not have it in an unbecoming way- like licking up the filling from the interior of the bun, or making a small hole and sucking the filling up, instead of eating it like a decent, well brought up adult- munching the pau as a whole.

Their century egg pork porridge here is wonderful. I'm Cantonese, so having a bowl of thickly textured century egg porridge is familiar to me. What makes theirs unusual is that they've added gingko nut to the preparation, and so although there's no gingko nut in the porridge (I haven't found any thus far), the taste of it lingers in every spoonful.

Then there's the salted egg fish skin. I suppose it is something one can expect when you're at a seafood restaurant- and a Teochew one at that- but this is really good. The first time we came, we had two plates and felt so stuffed thereafter. The second time we wised up and stuck to one... whilst quietly wishing that we could tapao the second plate away. :P

Of course we didn't.

Too rude we would have been- and as much as we can stretch the rules of customary etiquette- grabbing a plate of salted egg fish skin in plain sight of the staff, we just can't.

I wouldn't want to be banned from Swatow Seafood.

For the reason that their afternoon dim sum buffet gives me the chance to relive wonderful memories of Chinese-restaurant dining at a great price. The lights, the décor, the tablecloth, the chairs, the carpet, the table setting, the staff, the way they serve- it's all reminiscent of special birthday dinners and wedding dinners at the Chinese restaurants I used to go to.

It's been a long while since I've been to one- I guess relationships differ somewhat- but memories of family dinners and lively chatter come back to me from time to time, especially when dessert is served.

Because no where else but in a place like this will the wait staff come trundling down the aisle between the tables with a trolley full of typical dinner-time desserts that include black sesame paste, almond jelly and longan dessert, and cute little bowls of mango pudding (already) infused with evaporated milk inside.

Changi's Jewel

I thought that by dropping in a month later after her initial opening I would have successfully managed to avoid the crowds that the press said were thronging Changi Airport's latest addition JEWEL day by day.

Nope- wasn't the case- wasn't the case at all.

Maybe I should have dropped in on a weekday.

But who has the time?

Best part was that the crowds weren't just within the dome-like structure of JEWEL- they were also at the terminals- and at Terminal 3, from which where I was coming.

Families; families with ambulant elderly, families with non-ambulant elderly, families with children, families with prams and young children, married couples, single couples, individuals, locals, visitors, foreign workers- they all came to explore JEWEL, make an excursion out of it, and basically have a good time.

And why shouldn't they (or we)?

Is not the airport as a transportation hub for everyone, regardless of circumstance or status or purpose? No one said you couldn't hang out in the public areas. No one said you couldn't have a meal or a snack or a coffee at their F&B. And no one said you couldn't go to the waterfall-vortex thing, feel the cool mist, and watch all the water gushing down.

That's what I did.

First stop, in fact- because this fountain (or so I call it) is indeed one of the most charming, and cooling places in the airport. If they had a butterfly garden inside the transit area at one time, now they've brought it out, and it isn't a garden anymore. It's more like a hillside terrace covered with thick shrubs, plants, flowers and trees. The landscaping intrigued me, so much so that I didn't care about getting close to the fountain, but I wanted to observe the vortex of water falling down from a place amidst all the shrubs and trees.

Somehow I managed to get to what I think was the third level (sidestepping and jostling with the selfie-takers along the way) until I found a quieter spot where through the little leaves and skinny branches, I gazed at the fountain, feeling the spray of mist on my face, and slowly, gradually, shut out the chatter of the crowd.

Yes, it is possible to find a quiet spot within the dome and forget where exactly you are. It is possible to be settled amongst green leafy foliage and think of how nature is, and how nature used to be, and how even though we don't really have it as much as we wish these days, we can still seek a respite amidst the leaves for ourselves.

Of course, all that serenity disappears upon entering the shopping areas, and no wonder, for there are really a good many retail stores there, and where there's good shopping, there the crowds will be. It doesn't matter whether the same stores are in their own housing estate ten minutes' walk from home- it is just a different vibe seeing the store in a brand new environment.

In a way, I think that's true.

It's the same with the dining places. The food can be the same, but in the airport, with people coming to and fro, with visitors armed with luggage trolleys, backpacks, bags, coats and the occasional scarf, one realizes that the vibe's completely different.

Unfortunately I can't be absolutely sure, because we didn't go to our regular favorites, but instead chose to try out a brand new place which we had hitherto never even heard before- but my friend is the adventurous sort who is game for delicious-looking cuisines, so we found ourselves at PizzaMaru, which, interestingly, is right in front of the Pokémon Store.

The meal was good.

At another time I would not have given much thought to the crust of a pizza or even its ingredients, but when presented with a handmade chewy crust that has been infused with green tea, or when the pizza comes to you with lots (and lots) of cheese, beef bits, cherry tomatoes and cute little pieces of broccoli, it gets my enthusiastic vote, and a hearty round of applause.