Wednesday, October 19, 2011

Block 9

I think one of the biggest sources of concern upon moving was the issue of space... Personal space...Houston is a rather spread out place after all... Our Houston house is by no means palatial, but it is decent sized...with a pool and basically no neighbors to hide from or tiptoe around. I could play my music as loud as I pleased...as late as I pleased. The boys could run around outside in the grass, up and down the block...but never much farther, as it was after all H-town and not the safest place on earth...

However, Block 9has turned out to be a revelation in many ways...

Obviously it will always be the source of many, many firsts. It was the first place we stopped upon our arrival from Changi(actually it was the second after Joseph Tan pulled into East Coast Park so Deah could have "a puff" as he called it, but I will speak about the Singapore beaches later). We pulled into the taxi turn around on Holland Close and stepped out of Joseph's car, sweaty necks craning in apprehension and wonder. We had only seen a couple of pictures of the interior of the place(which were rather misleading in retrospect), and obviously had no grasp of what exactly HDB clusters were, which are government housing blocks, or as we call them in the U.S, projects, the difference being these cost an average of 500,000...

The first thing I noticed was the lush vegetation...everything is green and tropical, with palms, flowers and grass in every possible available space. Everything is manicured immaculately and healthy looking, in stark contrast to the building itself. There are winding cement paths and stairs taking you to the various levels of the grounds in an efficiently symmetrical way, many of them interrupted by playgrounds and exercise areas strategically placed so you must go through them to reach your destination.(Nothing in Singapore is accidental). Other paths are punctuated with sitting areas and BBQ pits...With round steel canopies hovering like halos above the marble benches...The grounds of Block 9 itself are a complex layered labyrinthine network of paths and plateaus, with a mix of route methodologies to choose from...short steep steps, curling stair cases, winding slightly elevated paths, criss-crossing fern-framed ramps all leading you efficiently to your destination...

Once you have made it through the maze of marble and vegetation you come to the Block itself. Ours is a 22 story sky-framed mass of faded peach and bone...The residences begin on the second floor, the fist floor consisting of communal lounging space. These spaces are a combination of open ended round booth tables, Mahjong tables with multiple stools, and Chess tables with two stools. All are made of tiny one inch tiles of differing color and design, but primarily the peach-bone color of the Block, only slightly less faded than the cement walls which have sheltered them for decades, but my favorite are the ocean-blue tiles which adorn a select few.Several of the booths face caged TV sets perpetually tuned to the local Singapore station...there are always Aunties sitting around bitching about something or another. Block 9 boasts of a Karaoke bar shrouded in black-paned glass, but we have yet to muster the balls to enter...

Flat 13-50 is nestled in the middle of the 13th floor, reachable by either of a pair of elevators on either end of the walkway which also serves as a balcony of sorts where you can gaze down and the open area to watch the children play, or let your eyes and thoughts wander along the symmetrically rowed windows of the surrounding Blocks. Most of the surrounding flats hang their laundry from 9 foot drying poles which protrude from their windows and proudly fly their underwear and t-shirt woven family crests...


The flat itself is fairly non-descript, but very nice and clean. It looks like an IKEA showroom just not the really, really nice kind...more like the large dorm room outfitting. The front door opens to the living room consisting of a three cushion pleather couch with an end table, a wall mounted TV, and a small table with assorted electronics, opening into the dining/computer/homework room, into the kitchen/shower/toilet/utility room, ending in the storage area. On the left of this procession are the two bedrooms, ours with one double bed, a glorified armoire, and a nightstand...the boys with a mirror image of the glorified armoire, two bunkbeds, and a small desk. The shower and toilet in the kitchen was a bit awkward at first, but at least they both have doors. The only hot water is in the shower by way of a wall-mounted box. The cooktop rules as it is GAS!!!. I was initially going to set up my studio in the back room, but the cramped and cluttered nature of the surroundings lend absolutely no inspiration or motivation. The view from both the kitchen and our bedroom is of a wooded park sitting atop a hill and Holland Village. The hill is home to morning Tai Chi ensembles fluidly ushering the new day...

It is amazing how little you miss the mountain of shit you accumulate over time and, as it turns out, we can live comfortably with less than 1/4 of the shit we had in Houston. The amount of superfluous nonsense you acquire is directly proportional to the amount of space you have to store it. The irony is that the love in your heart is inversely proportional to the amount of superfluous nonsense in your life. Clutter has many manifestations, the physical often leading to the mental, insidiously creeping in to your heart looking to wedge itself between you and your family.  Ridding ourselves of the comforting space Houston affords has brought me closer to Deah, Marston and Levi than I have ever been...

We share four rooms, one toilet, one shower and one TV,  but more importantly...
we share this experience.


Friday, July 15, 2011

White Noise

    One of my favorite moments in film is Sailor Ripley lighting a cig....framed by the haunting roar of white noise.White noise to me is symptomatic of change and movement. It is the sound of looking back on how you looked forward to a moment in your life. A definite moment you either were looking towards or shrinking from. A moment which was at once so very far, yet simultaneously was lurking around the corner....waiting to snatch you away from the comfort of your present existence.
  
    You know when you reach that moment when months had ticked away as seconds do...memories have a distinct way of shrinking time, even as we are making them. It is at that moment when white noise attaches itself to the memory of  how you reached your present space and time, when images blur from repetition and the sounds theses images possess bleach themselves of their tonal distinction...white noise...

    So, I had this in my mind leading up to our departure for Singapore. I had memories of what lay in my future accompanied by white noise, not dissimilar to the gutteral whine of a jet engine ramping up. I knew that when this jet engine was ramping up, the roar would call to mind the smear of images comprising the approach to this day...when everything would change.

    June 19th is usually a long way from March 3rd.....but not in 2011 it wasn't. I closed my eyes and sheepishly sought sleep the night of my interview, knowing it would neither come quickly or stay easily...eerily similar to the night before our departure...usually seeking sound to succumb to sleep, I cupped my ears from the inside and stepped blindly into the darkness...awash in white noise...

   I don't really know why I didn't cry that day...I was certainly saddened by the fact we were leaving, but more so by the fact tha so many of those I love were sad because we were leaving...I don't worry about misconceptions, those who know me know there are a few things I am terrible with...Christmas, birthdays, anniversaries...goodbyes. If you ever want to feel loved, move to the other side of the world and watch the welling tears of those dearest to you...you can't sheild your eyes from the stinging shine of tear streaked cheeks...

    When the plane left the ground and the jet engines began to unwind, the memories of the final days meshed with this moment and my hopes for our future..

...and the silence washed away the sound of white noise...