Music speaks louder than words

Thursday nite, my sensory organs went overdrive getting tingled by Kitaro’s out of this world music. For the first time in my life, I felt lifted by the true prowess of music – a world where words aren’t necessary and a mutual understanding could be reached by just performing or listening with your heart. And where lights and images are secondary to sounds while our sense of hearing takes control of our emotions. We feel rather than think through the abstract rather than the defined. For Kitaro is not a man who sticks to labels. This is a self-taught musician lauded for marrying the east with the west in leading a new wave of music that has come to be known as New Age. But yet, while others will thrive on the fame of being the leader of the pack, the free spirit in Kitaro refuses to conform to a label. Just as he refused to bend to orders from the Singapore’s authorities to forgo his long tresses for entry into the country 20 years ago, Kitaro is rejecting the label of New Age.

“The New Age category still exists in the Grammy Awards, but my philosophy is, I don’t care about trends, I have my own style.”

In a world where words could no longer buy understanding let alone say trust, Kitaro is saying let’s awaken the conscience, which doesn’t need a mould or definition, but is simply hidden in a forgotten corner of the human soul. Let us start listening to our hearts and not our minds.

I’m a Kitaro convert now.

More on Kitaro

Kitaro’s music journey http://www.domo.com/artist/kitaro-bio.html

Muji (no label) man

Possibly his most loved piece, Matsuri

Jaywalking and typical Singaporean

My Taiwanese ex-housemate in Melbourne used to wonder how atypical a Singaporean I am. The object of her curiosity stems mainly from how often I love to ’short circuit’ the traffic rules: always wanting to avoid taking the roundabout way and consistently attempting to cross this thoroughfare at this junction that is not more than 50 metres from the next traffic light.

She being raised and brought up with the relatively haphazard traffic system in Taiwan, on the other hand, is always insistent on doing it the right (and safe) way. We often end up negotiating whether to take the PC or unPC way home from a grocery shopping trip.

Yes, contrary to a rather popular notion of the Singaporean way of life, us, the red-dotters, aren’t really sticklers for rules.

Just round my neighbourhood for instance, it’s not uncommon to come across balding patches of grass field, made bare by the trampling footsteps of – yes, you get the drift – the otherwise ‘law abiding’ Singaporeans. And no, again, the official footpath ain’t too far from reach. The relevant authorities have perhaps given up on any hopes of ‘institutionalising’ a set behaviour and right of way amongst the residents that they end up

1. building a new footpath on top of the balded grass patches – if you can’t fight them, join them !

2. turned the patches of grass into uneven concrete slabs that render the area rather inaccessible or at least inconvenient for some – it’s either my way or the highway!

In either case, I’m rather bemused by the chain of events which seem to indicate a mutated form of negotiation taking place through an everyday practice.

My fave red dot is certainly more than meets the eye .

Social strata of commuters in Singapore and Melbourne

It’s amazing how commuting on the road says so much of the city dwellers – their aspirations and grievances, their social behaviour and value judgements.

I’m struck by how far the (use of) public transport system and infrastructure reflect the social strata in Singaopore and Melbourne. 

In a talk show on road bullies on Channel U last week, participants in the panel allude to the ’size syndrome’ on the roads in Singapore – how bigger cars tend to edge out the smaller ones and how two wheelers are marginalised on the road.  

The only possible exception to this ‘norm’ is perhaps in Pasir Ris – the so-called ‘Little China’ – where the dominant presence of a cyclist population resulted in a ‘re-engineering’ of the pedestrian pavements (into two separate lanes for the pedestrians and the cyclists) to reduce any probablity of accidents.  But again, it’s interesting to note how the two wheeled bicycle is considered a road hazard rather than an environmentally friendly form of (tran)sport to be encouraged amongst the population. 

Now, I’ve been biking for more than a year in Melbourne.  And I must say the experience is vastly different than that in Singapore.  In Melbourne, there are designated lanes – not on the pedestrian pavements but on most of the main roads – for cyclists.  There is a vast difference in this respect, as to how the cyclists are considered vis-a-vis the other road users in Melbourne and Singapore.  It’s interesting to note how cyclists are perhaps considered on par with the pedestrians rather than the other motorists in Singapore.  

This difference is magnified if we consider how the two-wheelers are considered (by other road users) in Melbourne and Singapore.

In the same talk show on Channel U for instance, there were comments passed on how two-wheelers often caused road hazards in Singapore when they chose to ride along the far left or right rather than centre of the lanes.  If we take into consideration the difference in the infrastructure between Singapore and Melbourne, ain’t it clear how this issue would have been resolved if there’s room catered for the two-wheelers on the road? 

Why then is there a lack of consideration for the two-wheelers on the road, be it among the authorities or the civil society?  Perhaps a worthwhile comment in the same talk show will shed some light on the plight of the two-wheelers.  Indeed, in a society where people are judged by their external trappings - in this case, their car they drive - is it any wonder how larger car owners tend to behave as what one of the participant mentioned, as if they ‘own’ the road?

And therein lies a fundamental difference between Melbourne and Singapore.  If Melbourne is considered to be a city that sympathizes with the underdogs, Singapore is a city(-state) that celebrates high fliers.  

On the same note, some may argue the syndrome in Singapore is far from unique.  I’ve certainly heard of similar encounters in Sydney.  So, I wonder how the drive for economic progress or material wants may indeed come at the expense of a revaulation of humanity. 

Where traditional wisdom meets modern technology

If you walk along Smith Street, you will notice this curious outfit right opposite Officeworks with a(n) (un)recognisable Chinese character on its front door:

This is the gym I’m working at now. Ok before you start questioning my motive for this blog, I’m not here to SELL the place, although yes, by virtue of the fact that I’m blogging about it,

(1) it’s related to the theme of my blog

(2) I do buy in to the concept of this gym and hope to share this with like-minded individuals.

Now that I’ve set up my disclaimer … I shall answer the next question that some of you may have in mind.

What sets this gym aside from others?
For one, this is entirely different from any other gym that I’ve come across in my lifetime – including my time spent in Singapore and Australia. The curious character at the front door, stands for ‘three’ in Chinese and symbollises the three key focuses at this gym: mind, spirit, body.

All these sounds quite new age and not really uncommon among health and fitness establishments. But you’ll realise how this establishment varies from the others when you take a short tour round the gym.

On the ground floor, we’ll come across a very modern outfit – of latest gym equipment, treadmills, bikes and these fantastic machines, called Gravity Training Systems otherwise known as GTS.

Essentially GTS is the latest fitness system designed to complement and intensify muscular and pilates workout.

While you may argue this is not quite unlike the other gyms in the market, you’ll be surprised at the set-up on second level, which sets a huge contrast to the modern out-fit on first floor.

The stairway up to next level is indeed almost like a time machine, transporting us to a time and space before modernity. This is whence the gym sheds its art of modern technology and embraces the traditional wisdom of martial arts, yoga and Chinese medicine.

The training area for martial arts students of Chinese KungFu and Taichi exudes a sense of balance between the Yin of Taichi/Chi Kung and the Yang of KungFu. With Taichi, you’ll build an energy reserve that can be tapped on to exert your movements in KungFu.

I can’t help noticing these two Bruce Lee’s posters on my first visit to the gym.

Right next to the martial arts training area is the Yoga room – a calm and serene space secluded from daily hussle and bussle of life. Again, I notice these photos on the shelves, which I presume should be portraits of some Yoga masters.

And finally, for those who need to seek relief from muscle aches or other ailments, the gym offers massage and Chinese herbal consultation services in one of these treatment rooms.

Now, how does this relate to the theme of my blog, you may ask? Well, this gym has debunked the myth of this reductionist East-West divide by fusing the virtues of (Eastern) traditional art forms with the benefits of (Western) modern technology. This is the balance we need to seek as citizens of a postmodern economy. And I will like to ask those advocating the East-West divide, how they would envision postmodern living if not through drawing the strength of such a fusion?

Photos of Chinese massage and KungFu training session taken from 3energyarts.com

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Shortly after I finished writing this post, I had a conversation with Paul, a local Australian and the founder of this gym and martial arts academy. I related my last encounter with this couple of Aussies who expressed doubts over the capabilities of our Chinese medical practitioner when they heard he’s a local Australian. Paul acknowledged that he had faced similar prejudices before from fellow Australians and visiting Asians. I found it rather ironic to learn that whilst these interested parties question Paul’s abilities, his Sifu or martial arts master of Chinese origins however, had noted how ‘Chinese’ Paul is, not just in his expressed interest towards Chinese cultures but also in his daily life practices. This is a man who named his cats, Ming, Kai and Chan – all Chinese monikers. Indeed, this conversation reminded me of Christopher Doyle, award winning cinematographer who self-deprecates as an Asian struck by a skin (whitening) disease.
While we tend to harbour a degree of sceptism towards foreigners who express interest or knowledge in our cultures, it is equally important to hold a certain optimism that such cultural exchanges will serve to extend the use value of our cultural practices. Christopher Doyle and Paul are but two case studies of people and practices abound in our daily lives that have transcended racial or national boundaries.
I would like to invite everyone to join me in celebrating these treasured encounters in our lives that serve to interrogate the ineffectual East-West binary.

*Thanks to Gerry for helping me to crystallise my thoughts. I have redrafted the last section of this blog to reflect some of the ideas in her comments below.

It’s strange to hear this from an Aussie

A couple of weeks ago, these two Aussie blokes dropped by the gym I’m working at. As we were chatting about our Chinese herbal consultation service, one of these blokes asked me whether the practitioner is a Kwai Lo. It took me a while to register what he meant. You see, Kwai Lo ( ) translated as ‘White Devil’, is a ‘derogatory term used by Chinese to address Caucasians‘. I’m not saying the Chinese had the sole rights to use this word. However, it is certainly weird to hear this from a white Australian. On reflection, I thought he could be trying to bond with the Asian – me – he was speaking to at that moment, just as how we international students adapting to the Aussie way of greeting – ‘how are you?’, ‘no worries’ etc. In any case, my answer to him was, yes, our practitioner is a local, white Aussie. Our Aussie bloke’s response was he will only be interested in the service if it’s a Chinese practitioner, not a Kwai Lo. I suppose to a large extent, it is difficult not to judge a book by its cover. However, whilst I may indeed be of Chinese descent, I’m certainly not qualified to practice Chinese medicine. Likewise, I don’t really think it’s quite fair to assume that a Chinese practitioner will necessary know more than his white Australian counterparts. And I wonder how far people still carry this essentialist assumption that a person from the country of origin of a certain practice or culture will certainly know better.