The journey to Hong Kong has been almost a comedy of errors. What was meant to be a family trip to Japan got cancelled, then re-elected to a trip to HK with my siblings. To add spice to the situation, I somehow managed to inform everyone that the flights were booked for Friday to Monday, only for us to discover that it had been booked for Thursday to Monday. On Wednesday afternoon, no less.

We all overslept on Thursday morning.

Luckily my dad woke us all up, rushed us to the airport, and we were off. By that time, we were so exhausted that we slept throughout the entire flight.

What else can I say about what there is to do at HK right? Walk, shop, eat, repeat. Then sometimes for variety you do two parts shop and one part eat, or vice versa. It’s a nice town, but incredibly crowded and everyone is always jostling (or as I like to say, “jocelyn yeo”).

The thing I really enjoy most is hanging out with friends that are here. It’s the simple joys of sitting around a meal or drinks or whatever, bantering and talking as this was a perfectly normal, ordinary weekend activity for the both of us. That’s what I like best. Plus shopping really hurts my legs.

Speaking of having legs that hurt, I asked my friend if I could join her to hike the Wilson Trail today. Note to self: Do not attempt to trek up trails that involve more than a thousand steps unless you feel absolutely sure. Even if you do, don’t. I could barely feel my legs today.

Alrighty, it’s time to go for dinner at a French private kitchen place at Wan Chai. Many thanks to S for the internet.

So the US elections have come and gone. And now there’s a new president elected into the House. What I find really interesting is how people in Singapore (or at least those that I come in contact with) are all die-hard Obama fans. Don’t get me wrong, I really like Obama. He was just starting out as a senator from Illinois when I was in college there, and has just grown from strength to strength, and positioning himself to become a really fresh change to the political scene.

What I don’t get is how Singaporeans with almost no exposure to a) The type of politics behind the politician and b) The House they represent, can be such staunch Obama supporters. I mean, they were like cheering when he became President, as if he was Roger Federer and had won the French Open finally, or Liverpool winning the English League. They basically have no idea what his policies are, or are going to be, except that he was going to bring change that you can believe in.

I sure hope so, because the people that cheered Obama’s victory probably did as well for a soon-to-be former president when he won with slogans and ideas like “No Child Left Behind”. No points for guessing, it was George W Bush. Oh, how the fickle flock come and go.

P.S I like this The Onion skit on Obama supporters

阿嬤我回屋

I haven’t been up so late without going partying since, well, college freshman year. Back then, there were very few non-study aid jobs (read: jobs that international students could take), but one of them was working as the IT consultant at one of the campus computer labs from midnight until 8am. Silly ol’ me jumped in to take that job, and while it really did teach me about sleep depravation and discipline, it wasn’t something I wanted to do for the rest of my life. (I scratched Night Guard out of my list.) There were friends that kept me company until 2am before they collapsed of exhaustion and boredom in the lab, after which I’d play Romance of the Three Kingdoms 2 until daylight. Then I would trudge back to the dorm, shower, and attend my 9am class in a somewhat comastose state.

Tonight was a little different though.

The waiting area for the Critical Care Unit in Mount Elizabeth is deadly quiet in the early hours, except for the whirring of an air-conditioning unit. There are a few people scattered around, sleeping in their own familiar and unfamiliar way. There is the lady/man/person that’s curled up with a blanket over her/his/its face the entire time that I was there (somewhat like Wilson in Home Improvement), the dude that’s so contorted that I feel painful for him, and the resident person that I see all the time there sleeping serenely. My dad and brother are in the hospital with me. They’ve been the real troopers, especially my dad. Like Peter, I fall asleep while I am supposed to be keeping watch, only to find them awake there, still constantly checking up on Grandma. Ah, my dad. Tower of strength that he is, he never slept through the night. I’ve got 28 years on him, and still, I don’t make the first cut. There is so much to learn, so much to admire.

It’s 4:30am. My dad is getting hungry, so we take a stroll through Orchard Road, towards Lucky Plaza. Now I know how Singapore does it. It’s at night when the workers clean the roads, dispose of the trash, and do their construction work that keep the Automaton Nation firing on all cyclinders. You have to admire it even as you walk half numb half hungry to MacDonalds.

We order, take our food, and walk back to Mount Elizabeth.

The food is terrible, but the company is great. We eat our hash browns, Big Breakfasts, McGriddles, McMuffins and the like. Just like what they say about alcohol, we feel full but not filled. It is time to say goodbye to Grandma because our aunt has come with her husband to take over our shift.

We always have dinner at Grandma’s from Monday to Friday. There is always dinner there. It is always almost the same phrase that we say to her in Cantonese (loosely 阿妈我回屋) when we go home. That doesn’t change as we go into the Critical Care Unit, stroke her arm, and say those words to her.

Resp rate 60, Oxy satur 69.