I need a new football. Argh.

Lunch at Vivo City's Food Republic. Song bo?

A Glimpse of Mobile 18 in a brief moment of calm.

Hotel Rwanda

Hotel Rwanda was a crash course into understanding the conflicts between the Hutu and Tutsi people, as well as recreating the scenes of the 1994 genocide of approximately a million people.

The ridiculous thing is Hutus and Tutsis aren't different races. Tutsis were "anyone with more than ten cows or a long nose". And this distinction was made by, *gasp gasp* of all people, Belgians. It's like some white folks went over, measured their noses, counted their cattle, and stamped either "Hutu" or "tutsi" on their ID. That's their big divide.

Next time they'll one-up it. We'll make them play oh-ah-peh-ah-som. Palms up will start the ball rolling and stab a few palm down folks. Hey, any good excuse to murder a few of your fellow man rite?

And you wondered why most of Africa is in its existing state of affairs.

* * *

"We all knew we would die, no question. The only question was: how? Would they chop us in pieces? With their machetes they would cut your left hand off. Then they would disappear and reappear a few hours later to cut off your right hand. A little later they would return for your left leg, etc.—they went on till you died. They wanted to make you suffer as long as possible. There was one alternative: you could pay soldiers so they would just shoot you. That's what her [Tatiana's] father did."

—Paul Rusesabagina in Humo, nr. 3365, March 1, 2005

I loved "Bourne Ultimatum". The girls weren't too impressed though. Wanyi fell asleep, Linlin had a mild panic attack, and Siwen, well, she didn't like the ending.

The Girls don't get it.

GF: SDA newsletter is going to be a lifestyle magazine, I'm going to write up the Sports section, featuring Newcastle United, and occasionally Birmingham and the others.

* * *

GF: Hey Den, join SDA newsletter committee leh, Bran and YH also inside.
Bran (looking stunned): Huh? I am meh?

Is it just me or is SDA spamming my physical mailbox.

Enlarge your job scope!

Gain 35 CDE Hours!

Implants!

Father-son conversation again.

Dad: Today my colleage asked his student what was 55 + 15. The student proudly declared "75!". My colleage asked him to think again and give him the answer at the end of lesson. The student thought hard. When the bell rang he said "Sir, 75 wat!".

Constantly amazed when students hand me their consent forms.

Student 1: Tan XXX XXX Jerk
Me: Er... your name is, uh Jerk?
Student1 : It's Je- ric
Me: Oh, cos your i and c stuck together i thought was k. So sorry.

* * *

Student 2: Chia Yxxx Jxxx. Consent form was signed by Soh XXXX XXXX (Mother)
Me looking at Indian guy: Ok. stop playing around, pass me your consent form.
Chia: Huh? That IS my consent form.
Me: uh, ok.....

* * *
Nurse: It's raining, I'll pass you my umbrella
Waiting students (in unison): ella, ella, eh, eh.....

Football

Student S, who in my previous entry irrelevantly declared he was fit as a fiddle, approached Charles and I whilst we were having a quick canteen break, thumbing through EPL news on Violet's Newpaper.

S: Eh dentist, remember me or not?
Me: How could I forget, you're S rite?
S (face brightens): Yah!
Charles: Eh S, you're in the soccer team rite?
S (beaming): Yah!
Me: Oh? What position?
S: Centre-mid

There and then I wished I could join him and co. for a game, my feet yearning to dribble the ball, not-so-deftly performing comical stepovers, making my less than accurate diagonal crosses to stunned opponents, and slotting the ball pass my helpless keeper.

Football has its way of bringing people together.

That 25th Percentile and below

Moved from my ivory tower in RGS to a school in the heartlands. The real world.

Had a warm reception with students banging on the outside of the mobile clinic. They displayed keen interests in dentistry, exploring my cabinets of equipment. Their acutely inquisitive minds worked overtime to perplex us with questions that left us stumped.

Student: Eh, doctor, wat's eli-leptic fit?
Colleague: That form is for your parents to fill.
Student: Fit? (Points to right bicep) Eh I very fit wan.


* * *

A couple of kleptomaniacs who helped themselves to my gloves was enough for me to tuck the handphone lying on the table away.

Last canteen break in RGS.

* * *

Had a chat with Dad and told him of Day 1 in the 'hood. He, a teacher at "the global leader in technical education", laughed it off.
"That's nothing. These people are only 15 years old. They're harmless. When they come over to my school their much bigger and more rebellious. Then what can you do?

" My students don't come half the time. And the school is afraid to expel them because then the school would have less funds and the staff would be accused of poor motivational abilities. There's no way to enforce discipline. And at the end of the day the students rate the teachers."

I recall last week when he had to send a student to the polyclinic to be treated for injuries after being assulted by classmates. Dad witnessed the entire incident and yet the college pugilists are still in school, instead of a more apt confinement in Changi.

The things fathers do to feed their children and send them through universities. "Hey, you're 60 next year, it's time to retire." I replied, and he laughed, like it never crossed his mind.

"Speak their language, be patient and don't get angry," he dispensed his father-to-son advice before going to bed, "after all, these people represent a quarter of Singapore."

The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini

"... I wondered if that was how forgiveness budded, not with the fanfare of epiphany, but with pain gathering its things, packing up, and slipping away unannounced in the middle of the night."

Loved this book.
Loved the wondrous, heartbreaking tale, so intricately woven,
Loved the way those simple words explored recesses i never knew existed,
Loved it for the maudlin tinge, the bittersweet aftertaste, and the indelible impression on my soul.

The book to read, a thousand times over.