MH370 - 4 Things I've Learned

The MH370 saga has indeed been that, a saga, a long rigmarole of an unfolding drama. It's been 17 days since the plane went off radars and in that time, we've been fed many conclusions, then have them torn apart overnight, to arrive at new ones soon after. No one's found it yet.  

I have these truths to tickle your fancy and to have nodding your head in agreement to (hopefully):

1. A plane can be lost. A huge flying piece of metal can disappear. It's a startling outcome for any lay person. Despite all the spy movies we've seen.

2. Trust is underrated. There's a lot of it placed on many people who ensure that a flight takes off and lands properly thousands of miles away in another country. We as passengers tend to assume that everyone does their job, day in day out, to a level adequate for us to be safe and sound, and cared for. Everyone from the baggage handlers, security officers, immigration personnel, pilots, air crew, radar specialists, ground crew, air traffic controllers, other countries' air traffic controllers, cleaners, aircraft technicians, aerobridge control guys, runway sweeping teams, everyone. So many people have to do their job reasonably well so that passengers on a flight make it to their destination. 

There are so many possible points of failure and yet statistically, air travel is safer than driving a car. (It's just more dramatic when a plane explodes than when a car crashes). Putting trust in all the cogs in the whole machine to work is a daily miracle. We have to trust that all the people, given how topsy, turvy and tipsy life can get, are alright physically and emotionally to do their jobs right. One emotionally distraught food handler would be enough to make a flight do an emergency landing if everyone is suddenly poisoned. Now imagine suicidal pilots, and we've had a few real life examples (Egypt Air 990, Silkair MI186). 

So smile at the aero bridge guy when you get on or off a plane today.  

3. There was an article somewhere on the 'ultra syndrome'. Explained simply, it's about countries not revealing too much about their data gathering capabilities aka spying on their neighbours. And that's sort of what happen with the MH370 investigation. When one country asks another if it saw a large metal bird flying over it's airspace, seemingly undetected, the right answer is always "no". Saying "yes" would mean a few things:

A) Yes, our radar spotted it but we didn't do a thing about it. And the associated assumptions of incompetence, apathy and nonchalance.

B) Yes, our radar spotted it and we shot it down. And didn't tell anyone. 300 lives perished. Shhhh.

C) Yes, our radar spotted it and we had a chat with the pilots and let them through because they seemed nice people.  It seems most countries took a "no but we did notice this" approach. The extra information was provided quietly to the Malaysians over several precious days.

Sigh, who's the friend you can you trust these days?  

4. Last thing, news people still get their geography wrong. Losing a plane is one thing, not checking Google Maps to make sure Kuala Lumpur is where it is supposed to be is unforgivable. Does no one care about the Asia Pacific? Does everyone only know where Bangkok is?

 And Perth too?! 

It's difficult for many of us to truly appreciate the gravity of the matter unless we had a loved one on that ill-fated flight. We're merely spectators, receiving, observing, contemplating and processing. And concluding. Others are crying and grieving. The uncertainty will go for a while. This is one of those moments when the old cliché ‘time will heal all wounds’ applies. 

We wait some more, and watch the lawsuits begin.

If The Crimeans Felt Ukrainian, Things Would Be Very Different

Singapore is a tiny island city state with about 5 plus million people. The residents are made of mostly those of Chinese descent, Malay descent and Indian descent. You'll find many foreigners working here, about 30% of the shuffling feet and tired eyes that make it work each day. There are many Bengali and mainland Chinese labourers and many Filipinos who liven up our service and administrative roles. In the city, you'll also run into many Caucasians from Caucasia. Just kidding (because no one knows where that is), they are mostly Americans, Australians and Brits. (We call them angmohs, it is not a bad word anymore, just descriptive.) A very diverse mix getting along, for the most part, waltzing along safe, well-lit streets passing too many coffee outlets. We've generally been getting along for almost 200 years. Yes, there have been skirmishes here and there, scars in history from bouts of ethnic violence. Nothing of late, maybe youths up to no good, that's all. Well maybe the recent Little India riots are a reminder of what could go wrong.

I bring all this up in light of what's happened in Crimea. If you’re not aware, the entire Crimea peninsula has decided to be part of Russian territory under Russian care and concern, severing ties with Ukraine. It all happened in the last two weeks. An entire land mass of 26,000 sq km and 2 million people now belong to Russia. (Imagine all the fact books that need to be corrected now. The Singapore government would bend over backwards for that kind of space btw). It's almost unfathomable but it happened. Some people are not happy about it but the Russians are apparently ecstatic and will most definitely defend its new born to the fullest extent of civilised nuclear-powered aggression.

There are lessons here for those in power, everywhere. Especially governments in charge of diverse peoples from various ethnic backgrounds. I think what the Singapore government has done right is, firstly, it’s kept its ear to the ground. There are many grassroots organisations here that are close to residents, looking out for those in need of help. Some of these are based along racial groupings, like those providing educational help. Some are based along religious lines. What's useful is that the people's feelings very quickly surface to the top and issues can be looked into proactively.

The second thing is our policy of integration and meritocracy. Everyone is treated fairly. We study together, play together, eat together and work together. We expect everyone to be civil to one another.  We respect each other for the distinct perspectives we bring from our respective cultures and upbringings but do not discriminate each other because of them. We speak mostly English, a language that helps everyone communicate and also relate to the outside world. It used to be Malay. I remember my dad, a Punjabi Indian, talking to a Chinese shopkeeper in Malay. Malay helped everyone get along with the indigenous population on the island all those years ago when the British started the economic engine that is Singapore still runs. (I believe everyone here should learn Malay because we're surrounded by 200 million of them in Malaysia and Indonesia. It'll make holidays simpler.) A friend commented some months ago that only in Singapore would Chinese, Malay, Indian and angmoh friends be able to sit at table at a bar with food and drink, have conversation and laugh at each other’s jokes.

Then there's National Education. Many poo-pooed this school-based initiative that started some 15 years ago because they felt it was too forced, propaganda-ish and perhaps cheesy. Sure it is. If you want our youth to learn about our shared history as a nation, our successes and failures, more importantly, make them think about the fragility of our existence as a tiny nation, you damn well force it on them. Make them realise that our fates are ours, and not someone else's to decide. Make them appreciate that regardless of colour or creed or language or background, we are all Singaporeans. This is our homeland, one to be proud of and to protect, because we all have a stake in it. Singapore isn't perfect but at least those in charge have got around to try to bring its people together. If the Crimeans felt Ukrainian too, then maybe things would have turned out all together different. 

I think secession is alright if it is handled the right way, measured with deliberation and democracy, subject to the will of all the people. There's perhaps the right way of obtaining self-determination and perhaps less-than-ideal methods. Quebec had a referendum where they found themselves 2% of votes shy of being independent of Canada. Scotland is planning a vote to decide if a split from the UK is the right future. It's all planned and civilised. The Crimean situation happened and is happening at the barrel of a gun. The majority Russians in Crimea decided quite unilaterally it seems to part ways with the Ukraine government, and started to put up Russian flags everywhere. I guess it helped that the Russian Navy parks its boats on Crimean shores. Soon, unidentified gunmen were all over the place. Minorities there have been given little say or choice - go Russian or get out. Some might call it some form of ethnic cleansing, with Ukrainians and Tartars being targeted. Many decry the Crimea referendum as a sham. What's worse I feel is that the Ukraine military has done little to defend its people or this land. I didn't hear a peep. No one's really sure what they are doing. Their internal crisis has made Ukrainians vulnerable and unsure. The BBC reports that many feel like their destiny is no longer in their hands. That must be a terrible, sad feeling. 

Russia has an interesting policy to protect its citizens whether they are at home or overseas. Other countries with sizeable Russian populations are feeling uneasy now. The Baltic states and perhaps Central Asian countries are especially frightened now. Imagine if the 300,000 Russians in the UK decided on self-determination in a posh London neighbourhood and asked Russia for help. It sounds insane but that's sort of essentially what happened in Crimea. That'll be a cliffhanger eh. The folks in Eastern Ukraine want union with Russia too, and they have been boisterous about their desires. It won’t be surprising if a similar ‘legitimate’ referendum happens there and everyone has to pick sides to fight on.

I can't really pin down why this situation so far away bothers me enough to write a second blog post. Maybe I feel for those who get bullied into a corner for no fault of their own. It's strange to imagine all this happening in this day and age, and all we can do is mostly sit and watch it unfold like a movie. Maybe I feel the helplessness of it all, despair squished into a short span of time. And every day something new but terrible happens. 

The Cheapest SKII, Toast Of London, MH370 And Awful Awful Pain

I present the week's highlights:

1. SKII is cheapest on the Singapore Airlines flights. Yup, the lotion on KrisShop is most value for money. It's $198 for a 250ml bottle. And the current promo rewards the buyer with an small 30ml sample bottle of the stuff. I know this from my return trip from Tokyo last week. Also, a colleague had asked me to purchase a bottle of Cellumination Mask In Lotion. I agreed and decided to do a little test. On the way out, I checked that the price in Singapore Duty Free shops at Changi was $90.50. I checked the price of the same product at Haneda Duty Free, intending to make the purchase on Japanese soil in yen. Surely a Japanese product would be cheaper at home. It was Yen7200. Wait a minute, let me google this. Yen7200 was S$89. And using my credit card would tip me over that figure and in fact I would pay more than I would in Singapore. Nay, nihon water not cheap in nihon des. That was an Ah-ah moment. On the way in, I picked up the said desirable for S$90.05 at Changi. Voila. The mysteries of inflight and duty free shopping solved for the vain but value-conscious. 

2. I saw this British comedy on the plane, Toast Of London. It's bloody hilarious. It's about a theatre actor Steven Toast who gets into all sorts of spills and thrills. It's intelligent and silly, sort of a modern day Benny Hill, and punctuated with the odd profanity. He says 'unusual' as 'un-oo-su-al'. And there a silly song in each episode. I saw two episodes and am sold. Bloody brilliant. More please but from where? Hmm. 

3. A Malaysia Airline plane crashed. And apparently I was last to know. I found out after yoga on Saturday at about 5pm. The rest of the connected and informed world found out early that morning. I was bummed and couldn't really enjoy the two ciders I had after yoga. The second I ordered because I was progressively more bummed after the first drink. The the crazy details started coming details and till now, no one sure of anything. At first all the rescue ships went to the Gulf Of Thailand. Now they're circling around the Malacca Straits. Chinese relatives called mobile phones of some of those on board to hear the phones ring without satisfaction. There were two guys on board with stolen identities. Poor guys turned out to be Iranians seeking asylum. Then news of the co-pilot allowing passengers to frisk and fondle in the cockpit in an earlier flight came to light. Malaysian bomohs performed rituals for bodies and souls to present themselves for  a quick end to the searches. Flightradar24, a plane tracking website based on signals from aircraft, first showed the plane climbing to 50000 feet and then disappearing into the sea between Malaysia and Vietnam. The site later updated its data to show the plane on its way past Vietnam and vanishing off Hainan island. It was closely tracked by another plane which also went missing on screen. An email from an oil rig worker off Vietnam indicating a burning plane sited falling from the skies is along making its rounds. Other theories of slow decompression, alien abduction and God's punishment have surfaced too. Sigh. It's terrible that we can conclude much. All this technology and we can't find a downed plane. The story continue. God bless those 239 souls. 

4. I pulled my back unceremoniously on Sunday morning. The pain subsequently spread to render me immobile and quite disproportionate. My hips were dislocated it left. My right higher than the left. My right leg was consequently longer than the left. Seriously. Walking was painful. Standing up was painful. Going to the loo was maddening. Lying down was my only respite. I also managed to quickly imbibe two Suniton pills, painkiller and muscle relaxant combo. This was noon I think. By the afternoon it got excruciating. I took a Tramadol, the last power-packed punch of pain numbing meds I had. I was still contorted. Hmm, I looked the NotreDame dude. Two years ago, I ended up in hospital when something similar happened. That was when I felt the worst pain I had ever felt. I was so in pain my sister said I turned pale. I felt like my lower spine was alive and was trying to detach itself from me like that baby alien from Aliens. I did not wish to repeat that fate. My mum seeing me in this sorry state moaning and hunched all day offered me her drugs. I declined having my equivalent stash nearby. I took an Arcoxia before succumbing to bed. The next day I went to the doctors to replenish my Tramadol hoard. Yum. I was floaty by 1pm. I later picked my drugged, sorry ass up to travel to my sinseh who seemed displeased at my state. Oh Uncle Tong. He pushed and pulled and cracked and adjusted me. My hips seemed level now. Almost. I went home slightly miffed at the reception I received and took another nap. Two days later, I am still in some agony but managed the day at work. Sigh, middle age. I shall seek out an osteopath a uni friend recommend. Osteopath today, wheelchair supplier tomorrow. The horror. 

Mumbai - It Can Only Get Better

After the usual hellos, the first thing that people asked was if it was my first trip to Mumbai. I would then reply it was my first trip to India. They'd then gasp in astonishment. An Indian who hasn't been to India? Goodness gracious give the man a chappati slap and a cup of chai. "You have to go to Punjab" my Punjabi colleague went. Then he went to describe how the villages were full of druggies or mostly deserted. The contrast of that encounter pretty much sums up my experience in Mumbai and India over the middle of this week. Work fortunately took me on my virgin trip to 'the motherland'. Or should it be 'fatherland'? It's definitely Hindustan or Des. I think 'Mother India' was a magazine.

The commercial and slum mix

Anyway, it's that kind of city, old and new, rich and poor, opulent and meagre, luxurious and deplorable. The plane flew over shanty towns to land at the spanking new, shiny Terminal 2 of Chhatrapati Shivaji International Airport. We, me and 2 colleagues, quickly got through immigration before getting stuck in a jam of cars trying to escape from the multi storey carpark. This was my introduction to Indian traffic and the unwritten protocols of horn, slide in and conquer. There wasn't much to see or figure out on the way to the hotel because it was about 1030pm (1am SG time) when we arrived. Our brains may have been curious but the eyes and body were failing at this odd hour. 

The next morning was a delight to the senses, still a reinforcement of the contrasting nature of the largest Indian city. Straight of the hotel came the onslaught of the seemingly thousands of pesky black and yellow autorickshaws that honked, squeaked and blared while zipping about in any and every direction. I was laughing at all this. An entire land transport system that ignores traffic lights and abides by the honk. Alongside these rickety moving contraptions were brand new cars with prim and pretty passengers. We met our first cow to block traffic. A joke comes to mind - Why do cows have bells? Because their horns don't work. Haha.

Autorickshaws at their best

We passed many squatters and their squatter homes. We went on bridges over rivers that were polluted with trash. We went past low buildings that were homes to many but were in a state of squalor. People were pouring onto the streets to go about their day, kids in uniform going to school, men and women in semi-formal business attire taking autorickshaw rides, people waiting at bus stops to take noisy, red buses, men pushing carts of tomatoes and vegetables. Then all of a sudden the madness gave way to a semi-state of order, the office area. This collection of shiny new buildings in East Bandra were a complex of commercial spaces designed to attract the banks and MNCs, and successfully they did. What's interesting is that the zinc and wood structures where the poor live are a mere a stone's throw away too. Posh gloss versus humble beginnings. My colleague told a story of these squatter dwellers being offered free housing elsewhere and upon seeing it, decided to rent the new premises out, and returned to their old homes. Wonderful. 

Morning meeting

I think it's coming along but there's a long way to go for India. Unlike China where sometimes the powers that be steamroll through decisions for the good of all, much  power rests at the individual level in India. A shack in the middle of the city is still a space carved out for the right of abode, existence and posterity. This has perhaps tempered how quickly positive change can happen. But I sense the middle class wants more. Soon they'll ask for order, for traffic at the least. Famed for the peak hour jams I had to get the truth from my those living the Mumbai life day-to-day. Colleagues who lived 9 km from the office confessed that they took anything from 45 minutes to an hour and half to travel one way to or from work. That's insane eh. If the authorities there get this right and are able to put in some working system and maintain obedience, Mumbai might be unstoppable. We took a ride in a taxi on the new Sea Link bridge. It's actually named after Rajiv Gandhi. There was a jam on it because there was an accident but also because 4 lanes were merging into 2 lanes at one end. Raises eyebrows and calls for a "Hmmm" doesn't it? 

After witnessing the less than perfect state of affairs, I surprised myself when I talked about the potential for new services and businesses that the middle class is hungry for. There's so much that can be done to improve efficiencies or save time. Not knowing the true picture, for the dreamer the sky's the limit here. It's a good feeling. I hope red tape and individual interests don't get in the way too much. Mumbai can only get better. 

Here are some random observations about India's largest city

Superb Masala Dosa at Grand Hyatt

1. No I did not get Delhi belly or Mumbai madness or whatever a gastrointestinal dilemma would be called. The paranoia that brews from horror stories led my colleague to use bottled water to brush his teeth. The food we had was controlled from a source perspective, so no street food or drink, only proper restaurants. It was wonderfully spicy, the long lasting kind that keeps grinding on the inside hours after lunch. Hence the yoghurt or milk to calm the exuberant concoctions. Delicious. I had machine-made chai which wasn't bad but I wanted to try true preparations from a chaiwalla. Next time. Oh yes, Indians eat late, like the Spanish. I thought a restaurant we went to was not quite doing so well given the 6 people there at 830pm. An hour later, it was a buzzing with hungry patrons.

Terminal 2 CSIA

2. They take security pretty seriously now. Any hotel or shopping mall worth it's salt has a X-ray machine for bags and a walk-through metal detector for guests. At the airport, be prepared to have your identity and bags verified up to 4 times before you board your flight. And oh yes the new Terminal 2 is pretty nifty looking. 

3. Did you know Mumbai was previously 7 different islands? One of those islands was called Bombay that was the site of a Portuguese port that was passed on to the British as dowry when some Portuguese lady married an English king. 

With all the reclamation that's gone on, it's still actually smaller in size than Singapore, 603 sq km against 716 sq km. Who'd have guessed?