Saving Gaia. One bottle at a time

I save a bottle for recycling today.
Big deal!

I am not fanatic about recyling. I do make the effort to set aside newspaper and paper waste for recycling. They are sold to the rags & bone for 10 cents a kilo. That's about a dollar a month. Pocket money!

Recently, the waste disposal company placed recycling bins all over my neighbourhood. I felt guilty about throwing away the wine bottle into the thrash, so I dropped it off into the recycling bin along with some empty milk powder tins. All of a sudden, it struck me how much trash we generate each day.

While doing the dishes today, I saw a sesame seed oil bottle that Raine has thrown into the trash. I picked it up. It is extremely greasy. I paused a while and then set about cleaning it for recycling.

I recalled a news article about Pulau Semakau. It is landfill (or sea fill) between two small islands. We dumped enough rubbish there is build up a new island. And that is after burning the combustible for energy. The residue is dumped into concrete cells The island when filled up in 2050 will be put to good use. Now it is already serving as a wild life sanctuary. Great job of waste management but I guess each of us can still contribute a small significant part.

I am saving Gaia by being more active in recycling and saving energy. One less bottle for the seafill. One drop less in the sea.

Saving Gaia for Gracie.

Rich and poorer

Raine and I was having a conversation about a rich Singaporean billionaire who has the whole of a 11-storey condominium for his family of three.

Raine made this observation.
"Well, the poor only have one worry - the lack of money and they are easily made happier by money. Any amount of money. The rich will have problems which cannot be solved by having more money."

How true is that. Imagine what a dollar means to the old man who trudged around Chinatown on one leg, selling packets of tissue paper. I guess I was too pragmatic then. I had no need at that moment, so I didn't buy any. The old man took it in his stride. Gave Gracie a big toothless smile and made funny noisy, as he hobbled by.

First bump on the head

It has to happen sooner or later.
Sort of like the first bleeding wound that I can remember as a child. We roamed the neighbourhood, my cousins and me, climbing onto the abandoned garages, squeezing through dirty drains. One by one, my playmates all suffered cuts and bruise from dramatic falls and tumbles. I accepted that my fate would be no different but I played on without a care.

It finally happened one day. I ran too close to a small drain and lost my footing. The result was painful but not as dramatic as I thought it would be. Multiple lines were scrapped along my upper thigh. Just enough to bleed but there will not be any trophy scar. Well, at least, that was out of the way.

With Gracie, we were very careful about her falling off our bed. We love to have her on our bed with us at night. Especially after when she woke up crying. Our king size bed also serves as a changing table and for her day naps. So whenever Gracie is on our bed, we will be very careful to prevent a fall. She would be surrounded by pillows and bolsters. It happened much when we least expected. Right when our vigilance are still heightened. At 5 months old. Gracie was taking her usual 8 pm nap. I was by her side watching her drifted off to sleep. Actually, it is more like tossing and twisting off to sleep. I then left the room to watch TV. Moments later, Raine chided me for not ensuring that Gracie was well sandbagged. My wife is normally more kia-su. She would cover the floor below the bed with pillows and bags of diaper. However, that night, she did not and she corralled Gracie with a bolster. I would not have done that. I had that it rolls off the bed easily when Gracie twists about. I regret not cautioning my wife on this.

About an hour later, Gracie cried out as she normally does after she woke up. Raine went into the bedroom and gave a terrified shout. Gracie had fallen off the bed onto the floor. The whole household was tense as we debated on what to do next. My mother-in-law who was staying with us at that time, was an anchor of calm. For once. I wanted to bring Gracie to the hospital for a check up but she seems to be alright. No prolonged crying. I was doubtful but it was decided that there no need for immediate medical attention. Much later, after the storm subsided, I went online to research on the topic. Hmmm...we are not alone on this. Plenty of advices from other parents on the various forums. That eased my mind a little. We did consulted a GP a day later when Gracie developed a cough. The GP assured us that babies are actually quite tough. If there is no vomiting, she will be alright.

Well, that's another story for my wife to exchange at the playground. As it turns out, there were several other children with worst experience, including one who fell out of his crib, twice the height of our bed.

With a small child, one can expect the unexpected. Like the time when Gracie arched over backward and almost hit her head on the table at the hawker center. I was holding her by her lower body against my chest. She suddenly threw herself backward and swung through more than 90 degree before snapping back up violently. I think she missed hitting her head by a mere cm or two. At that moment, as Gracie cried fearfully, I felt as guilty as if I had committed some horrific crime. Fortunately, she suffered no injury other than a nasty shock.

We have learnt our lessons and are more careful with Gracie now. And I do not accept any more of these things that will happen sooner or later. Some things need not happen for us to be wiser. I am painfully aware of this, each time my mother preaches some common sense stuff about baby to me. Now I listen and think through the relevance to my situation.

We don't speak English

"Hello, care to join us for a drink?" , I asked.

The reply had me fumbling. The shorter woman spoke in Mandarin and state that they do not speak English.

It had me fumbling because my Mandarin is "half past six". Sure, I have an A for PSLE and B3 for O level, but the damage was done in Primary 5 where I had a terrible Chinese language teacher. I think he really relished the 15- 20 min that he took every week to cane and humilated me for failing the spelling test. I have fantastic Chinese language teachers for Primary 6 and secondary school (it is only after 19 years that I realised the good that they have done for me...) but when I left secondary school, I left hating the subject and the language.

So there I was, 18 years after my last Mandarin exam, the most important pop quiz of my life. My mind scrambled to find the words to piece together a sentence in Mandarin. I failed miserably. So rusty was my command of the language. Fortunately, the two ladies were lenient. They declined to join my table but accepted my company at theirs.

I learnt that they are from China. The shorter and older woman is already a Singaporean, having stayed here for 8 years. The younger and prettier lady is quieter. She is here for a holiday. "Great, I can show you around!", I blurted out. "But not for the next 2 weeks. I will be busy with work.", I quickly added. Duh! I was relieved when the conversation changed to other topic.

Suddenly I spied a colleague walking into the pub. I hailed him over, glad for the distraction. I was feeling very embarrassed at my stuttering Mandarin. My friend was immediately engaged in a lively conversation with the short woman. By then, I was feeling the effect of the Chivas Regal. The noisy din in Madam Wong was begining to be muffled and irritating.

Time for a quiet exit. Especially from the rowdy bunch whom I came out with. The ones who egged me on to approach the two ladies at the next table earlier.

It was raining cats and dogs. So much for the escape plan. I rejoined the party inside. Madam Wong was not really my scene. I preferred Siam Supper Club. Actually, I was begining to be weary of pubbing.
It has been a long party. 16 years till that date. Beginning with Subway at the Plaza hotel back in 1988, peaking with 7 nights a week at Music Underground, with all sort of places in between. All sort of action as well. Bar fights, cat fights, illicit affairs, big spenders. The stories that I can tell. Drinking tequila through the nose. Pretending to swallow estacsy pills in the company of a gangster chief (cornered when foolishly wandering into a off-limit disco in another country. ) A disco which only serves mineral water, imagine that (Estacsy apparently creates unquenchable thirst). But that's another story. I digressed.

Back in Madam Wong, the rain subsided enough for me to dash for a cab. The two ladies were on their way home as well. So I offered to see them home. We had exchanged numbers earlier but I did not expect to see them again. Like so many other women that I met. Some of whom are still very crossed at me for forgeting that we ever met, time and again. Well, I am not into dating at that of my life. Still nursing a hurt that lasted the past 12 years. Yup, that pathetic!

Anyway, I was soon buried in work. In the midst of getting a huge outdoor display ready for a VIP review, I received a call from the Chinese girl. How about supper tonight? She asked. Standing out in the open, with a thunderstorm 7 miles away, previous minutes ticking away, I really do not have time for this. But she melted my heart. "You don't like me?", she asked in plaintive voice.

I do like her. First impression is that she is dressed weirdly. A bit country pumpish with flowing dress and tresses. But I like her eyes. Sigh!~ It's always the eyes that get me hooked.

We had supper at Geylang. Pork belly soup. We talked and we talked. My brain rediscovering words and expressions in Mandarin that were buried for so long. Luckily, my teachers have taught me well. By the end of the night, I was seriously considering marriage. Little did I know that I would be dragged into a heart wrenching experience from China to Australia.

Fast forward to refocus on Gracie.

"Do you want to cut the imbilical cord?". That confirmed my impression that the doctor is indeed a bit nutty. I was wondering what I need to do. Raine seemed to have it well under control. No need for me to do the huffing and "push, push, push" thing that they always show on TV.

Thinking back, I remember she looked so small, lying by herself while the nurses tended to my wife. And wet. But she can sure scream.

Later, when the three of us were alone, I told Raine,"Let's remember this moment. No matter what may happen in the future. Especially when things all go wrong. Let's remember this moment."

Gracie is the bond that hold us together. Glueing a marriage that has at times been rocky. I am not sure whether Raine remembers what I said. I suspect not. But it is enough that I do.

Everybody whom I meet is in some way my superior

I cannot remember who said these words but they struck me hard and they stuck deep in my mind. Today, it is the welcome message on my handphone and PDA. It serves as a reminder to be humble.

6th Month

"She's cute!". That's the comment from most people who saw her. Especially when she flashed her toothless smile. At 6 months old, Gracie has came a long way from the wet bundle I was asked to handle at her birth. Those 6 months and the proceeding 11 months have sped past and are now a blurred memory. I still say prayer of thanks for the package of happiness that have changed my life.

Hi, I'm Mach and this is the story of my daughter, Gracie. Born on 24th Dec 2006, 3 days shy of my own birthday. She is so different from both my wife, Raine, and I. As soon as she could smile, she spent much of her waking hours squealing and gaggling in delight. As she grow older, she smiles lesser after encountering too many strangers with responseless expressions. Still she delights many people with her laughter and smiles. Strangers will stop and make funny noise to elicit more laughter from her, and walk away with a big smile on their faces.

Yet this story has not been all rosy and smooth sailing. It really began more than 2 years ago. With a hello....