I Was Lucky Enough To Go To Kyiv

I was lucky enough to go to Kyiv for work last year. It was long way to go to conduct a training session but we, my boss and I, were welcome with open arms by colleagues and agencies. After the longest flight of my life, Kyiv was a sight for sore eyes. But not till I was held up at the airport immigration. My boss, Chinese Singaporean, went ahead of me in the same line. I bet the immigration officer had trouble connecting the dots of racial mixture of a country many mistake to be in China. Despite my lovely full-page Ukrainian visa plastered across one of the pages my passport, the border guard was not happy. He called a friend, a similarly terse looking chap, and they spoke in Russian. It's an aggressive sounding language that would make anyone more nervous. They then disappeared for a while and the initial point of service returned to stamp my clearance after about 5 minutes. Phew. No one called the secret police.

My first impression out of the airport was that Kyiv got lots of forest. Our hotel driver was nice and he told us about what Ukraine and it's capital city were about as we cruised along the large highway. I noticed that several Euro 2012 billboards were still up, clearly a source of pride for the nation. Our driver introduced the main river Dnieper and told us that long long ago, a few brothers were on horses and came to river. They thought it was a good place to make ground and settle, surrounded by low hills. One of brothers was called Kyiv and the village, and now city, took his name. It's "Keev" not "Kee-ev" like many of us erroneously say.

The city itself has lovely monuments and seemingly old buildings. I was surprised to learn that many of the buildings aren't that old. The city has gone through many pillages, sackings and resurrections. It even burned to the ground once or twice. There are many cathedrals and churches. I visited the St Sophia's and St Michael's, and one gets swept away in the grandeur of it all. The gold domes of these churches positively glow at sunrise and sunset, like flaming beacons to guide the lost. At St Sophia's there was a patch of the original 11th century floor covered in a glass case for all to compare against the gold and coloured glass that adorns the main hall now. Some streets look very European, like those in Germany or Vienna. Low-rise buildings, usually 4-5 stories, nothing to smear the skyline. Some looking quite worn, others polished to gleam and impress. The luxury of space makes the city less imposing.

It isn’t easy to figure out the people of a city in a matter of a few days. We got by with the English but the locals weren’t terribly conversant. The people we met when we got lost once or twice could pleasantly help us out but beyond that interactions were limited. We had trouble at a restaurant with menus completely in Russian, and luckily ended up with a wonderful prepared piece of pork. I’m sure the people are nice despite the tough exteriors. And yes, there are more than a few model-like ladies sauntering about – a response I had to give several times when I got back home to questions about the famed beauty of East European damsels.

I was quite enamoured with Kyiv in those few days, enough to tell people if the Ukraine had a permanent residency program, people should apply, to add the mere 2.8 million people in the capital now. There was an air of potential there but maybe that was the tourist in me conjecturing.

But sigh, Kyiv is burning now. A rage unseen for a while now but not unfamiliar. A divisive issue to resolve - to be more European or more Russian. It’s quite clear the former masters have issues letting go, regularly poking, prodding, offering gifts, threatening with verbal and economic barbs. It must quite awful being pulled along. The country seems to be split, unsure of a clear path. What’s clear is that the people want to be heard, not sitting silent, not letting the fires, bullets and beatings get to them. The rest of watching can only hope for a peaceful resolution.

A friend told me yesterday that Ukraine was a new country. I replied no. Yes, they’ve just been independent since the Iron Curtain fell in the 90s but as a roughly distinct entity since the 11^th century, just that the hands had changed many times over. From the Mongols, to the Poles, to the Tsars and so on. Maybe a lot of people don’t get that, thinking that it’s merely an offshoot of the USSR. I remind people of the game RISK where Ukraine appears as a country and ask how long has that game been around.

Well, fingers crossed that differences are discussed and not fought over, that the fires outside are put out and the ones burning in the people's hearts are soothed by calm voices. 

An Amputation For A Fish Tooth

A few days ago I un-friended someone on Facebook. 

Not unusual you might say - people have been culling their massive lists of late, keeping their nearest and dearest close and saying sharp goodbyes to acquaintances and insurance agents. Well one doesn't even wish goodbye on Facebook. It's a mere unemotional delete, a clinical amputation.

Anyway, the person I removed was someone I know from university. Nothing about those past interactions made me contemplate the removal though said person was an asshole sometimes. But then who isn't. It was a post about shark's teeth instead that provoked my ire. 

Said person put up a picture of a great white leaping into the air wrestling a seal in its mouth. The image caught a giant tooth dislodged from the predator's jaws, flying into the air. What triggered my outrageous action was this person's comment "Look at those yummy fins". I replied that the comment was offensive. The reply that came back was some crap about cultural imperialism which no one would be able to link back to the shark and the point I was trying to make. I then posted that eating sharks' fins was perhaps in fact Chinese cultural imperialism to which the reply was a straightforward terse "No". I gave it a couple of minutes before deciding not to reply. I was irked, perhaps more than bothered. Several thoughts swirled in my head. It was easy to be impetuous and I would have lost my level head, and made a stupid reply. Quickly, I knew it wouldn't be worth it.

Two things bugged me about this encounter of sorts, and perhaps these are perennial bugs.

1. People not being able to accept their own argument turned against them. It's a failure of logic for me. It's like when a fat person tells you to lose weight. When one's argument is turned against himself, the sane thing to do would be to admit one's mistake. Pride and ego has got in the way. We've all been there. I guess it's about growing up.

2. We have yet to figure out we aren't here to ravage the planet. Our very existence is detrimental to Earth. A shocking statement perhaps but think about it. We've polluted the land, seas and sky. We've cut down trees because furniture is more important than oxygen and home for animals. We've killed off animal species and are killing off more for their feathers, bladders, horns, skins and other parts for decoration, medicine and sport. Our burgeoning populations are demanding more and more resources from the planet to meet modern day needs. Not just food and water but energy and minerals. Not many are thinking about what will happen when these things run out. 

So with the sharks - we're killing them off for the wrong reasons. Their fins have no nutrition whatsoever. It's an arrogant display of wealth for animal parts with no intrinsic value, just a dollar sum assigned by the winners of capitalism. Chinese capitalism at that. Sigh. 

We're killing off sharks for fins, not meat, and not many care that we're vanquishing an apex predator. Fishermen whose sole purpose in life is to fend for themselves and their families hack off sharks' fins because they fetch more money than sardines. The loss of these creatures will have repercussions down the food chain, a crisis we can't imagine yet because it's never happened before. Maybe with the dinosaurs but we weren't around then. We are going to be the death of this planet. The flu might take us first though.

With said friend, the relationship was lost years ago. We didn't really keep the conversation or the friendship going. So it was an easy decision to make, now that the shark line was drawn. Harsh? Maybe. Impact to my life? Minimal. Feeling better about myself? Yes. Feeling sad for un-friend? A little. I hope un-friend's kid(s) gets to respect sharks more. Maybe I am doing old man things. 

Picture from http://uk.news.yahoo.com/

Sree Ganga, Cook & Brew and Liverpool Winning - Three New Things Last Week

It turns out I did three new things last week. Well sort of. I went to two new places to eat and drink and managed to watch Liverpool magnificently defeat Arsenal.

First good place to eat - Sree Ganga on Stanley Street. It's a small Indian eatery in the Telok Ayer conservation area, a locale already chock-a-block with restaurants selling good food. This sort-of-new place is along the same stretch as Kamal Fried Chicken Briyani, the only other competition in the cuisine category. My colleagues and I had tea here once after a meal elsewhere, and had to sneak past the long queue of hungry patrons to get seats and jump the order process. We sipped the very milky tea and observed the eager eaters. The food had to be good and I had to come back another day. I did so last week. I went early 11-ish, and ordered 2 chappatis, beetroot, tofu sambal, fried bittergourd crisps and chickpea dhal. At the counter, I added a tea and the server gave me a pappadum. Sounds like a lot and it came to $9. But boy was it good. The chappatis were thin but substantial. I have a soft spot for beetroot, dry fried with cumin and coconut. The tofu sambal was a spicy surprise, the tofu fresh, firm and tasty. The chickpea dhal was thick, chunky, so flavourful and delicious. I saved most of the bittergourd to the end (I don't know why) but they rounded the meal nicely. The masala coating was sufficient to mask the bitterness and lend the Indian spice kick. Everything was brilliant, and those were just the vegetables! There was mutton masala and other fish and chicken dishes too. The promise of good food is enough for Singaporeans to storm this place and I hope they do well for they will surely reap more dollars from my thinning wallet in due time. My waistline will suffer in silence. (The pix above was post-publish update, no tofu but spinach with mustard seeds and coconut. Gorgeous!)

On Friday, I managed to persuade some colleagues to have a drink or two at Cook & Brew. This is a bar-restaurant at the new Westin Singapore at Asia Square Two. What's cool about this place is that it's 33 floors above Marina Bay. The glass front and open terrace magnetically draw first timers to the awesome view. There's not much on the west side of Marina Bay, just a lot of construction, open land and road. I bet it's pretty at night though, with lights from the ships and docks. The recent cool weather also makes for pleasant outings and conversation at the terrace. The other cool thing about Cook & Brew is the space. Someone took pains to plan out the ideal aesthetic emptiness of confined entertainment spaces. Dark wood floors, mood lighting, long bar, spots of seating. The bar itself is perhaps 10 metres long with an accompanying stream of high chairs. The cushy looking sofas are spread before the open glass wall before the open terrace where there's lots of seats for couples. Apparently many men go out in pairs for a Friday post-work drink. I was there about 530pm and it wasn't crowded, quiet even. The restaurant end was empty, the hungrier crowd coming later about 7-ish. Loungy music played overhead as I had a Heiny with another earlybird invitee. Oh yes, the best thing about Cook & Brew, the beer is quite cheap. Heineken pints for $10 and Kilkenny pints for $12. Unfortunately, the wines and cocktails aren't at reduced prices but they won't bust the bank. Sounds good already I bet. I haven't there on Saturday but I guess it'll be a nice and quiet place for a intimate date. Hint hint. (There's an equally pretty Lobby Bar, so you might end up there instead). http://www.thewestinsingapore.com/en/cookandbrew

On Saturday afternoon, I got a call from a friend who needed help. He asked to borrow my National Service full pack items. In my sleepy stupor of the late afternoon I said I would think about it and later made up my mind to go meet him. (I would collect my MacBook from repair in the same one fell swoop of an outing to the city). I met said at a bar at Prinsep Street where lo and behold everyone was watching Liverpool play Arsenal. I arrived as I received a notification from my Live Score app that Liverpool was one up over the Gunners. Woo hoo! That's the way to start a good evening. I must write at this time that I do not have the sports channels on my cable subscription so my allegiance to Liverpool and "Other clubs not Manchester United" has not been truly professed with live match watching. I live for scores on this phone app and results on websites. My boss would also come around early in the week to extol the virtues of his team, Chelsea. This screening at the pub was my first time watching a live match in maybe over a year. Same for my friend. As I settled down, came in goal number 2. What?! Liverpool up 2-0 against the league leaders. Skrtel the defender again! This was getting to be quite fun. At the table I sat at, my friend, a fellow Red, had brought along two Arsenal fans. They were getting a little miffed at the quick onslaught. Then low and behold, Sterling adds number 3. Three minutes later, Sturridge is doing a funky dance as he puts in a sensational goal number 4. What was going on with Arsenal? The TV shot of Arsene Wenger and his not-so-merry men all arms folded in their deep blue winter jackets made me laugh. I'd like to think Liverpool was doing this well because my friend and I were watching. Haha. I forgot how entertaining football could be. Liverpool had a fantastic game, ending the rout 5-1, the one goal Arsenal pulled back on was a penalty though they did try hard. Suarez didn't score and I felt he deserved something. Gerrard was awesome. He was all over the place in a good way, assisting the assaults and toeing the backline when defence was due. I realised that shows hosts were adopting American style analysis, with instant replays, on-screen drawings and lots of stats. They showed the percentage of Coutinho's forward passes. That's insane. I don't think we need that depth of stats, just to watch the game and have a pint during and after. Fun, no silliness. It was a good good game. Go Reds, let's keep it going. 

Mahjong - A Metaphor For Life

I was going to write about democracy and politics and how people get it wrong or assume things are ok till they go to pieces but decided I needed to think about it some more. So I am going to expound the values of mahjong. 

I was in university when my hostel mates started and strayed into the rapture of mahjong. I didn't want to try then because I would see them spend hours at a time, mostly till the wee hours, at this fine art. I needed more sleep perhaps. Come to think about, my JC classmates played mahjong too. With cards so that their hostel officer (they were Malaysians) wouldn't hear the familiar tak-tak-tak from scrambling tiles.

From watching my player friends, I learned a few things. Mahjong could make you crazy. It can be addictive. There's a thrill in the mix of luck, skill, vision, perception, deception and folly. Anything could happen in every round. The brain perhaps craves the stimulation. The wallet less so unless you're winning. 

Mahjong is a social enterprise. We all hear stories of those who play silently and are so skilled they know at first tiles' throw they know what combination one is after. I don't like those people. They tend to be yaya or too proud of their talent. When they hurl criticism for taking longer or throwing an unexpected tile, it makes the game less fun. I know they mean well but that's not what it's about for me. I play with a group that's a little messed up when we play. Not exactly beginners but we still refer to the Wikipedia rule book for Singapore mahjong when in doubt or for validation of opinion. We eat all the time. We drink all the time. Last night's game saw Chinese New Year cookies, crisps and tarts being passed around. We had beer and Moscato as well. A fat cat made it's way around our feet, shuffling, slinking and meandering about looking for attention. The TV was on, then the radio - welcome white noise.  We talked about silly and serious things as we played. We even sang a birthday song. The social nature of the game draws me in and keeps the fun going. It's also a good way to learn about people and make better friends. 

I have to emphasize the rules about the game. There are so many that beginners often the pay the price before committing them to instinctive memory. There are etiquette rules about keeping dice and aligning tiles. You also don't tap people on the shoulders lest you put their lucky fire out. The game rules are amazing. There are multiple ways to win and each has its pros and cons. There are rules that apply to various sequences and formations. Winning from picking the back tiles gives you an extra point. You can even steal the winning tile when circumstances allow. What's also awesome is that the game is sometimes not about winning but playing defensive so that the group doesn't suffer maximum financial loss. It's strategy with a twist. 

But it's the smarts that keeps most going. It's a brainy game. You have to see the big picture and solve your own puzzle at the same time with the tiles you pick. It's a metaphor for life! The brain has to process lots of details and keep tabs what's been thrown out and recalculate the odds of getting what you need to win. Or is there another way to win? And good lord, what do I with this tile? All these questions present opportunity and action. I feel the brain needs these pokes and prods to keep on its toes. Kids should learn mahjong to hone their mental processing and memory. At least they'd won't be running around gallivanting or be up to mischief. 

It's great to win, horrible to lose. But letting money get in the way would only sour the all the other advantages. Forget the gambling. Mahjong teaches one to let go whether you've won or lost before.  Each round is an opportunity for change. One again, the metaphor for life. 

I lost $4 in last night's game (we play 20-40 cents), the last for the Snake year and first to welcome in the Horse. I slept at 5am. My body clock is off. But mahjong with friends is worth it. So if you're not quite convinced, get the smartphone game app.