Sunday, 12 August 2012

Ah LOng Jie: Hairy Legs and Boys In Cute Shorts

My dear friend, Ah LOng Jie's journey through her teens is documented below:



When I passed my primary school leaving exams and moved into SAC located downtown, I didn't know I was headed for the world of urban living right on Bras Basah Rd - the middle of town.

My long 45-minute bus ride from the east of Singapore gave me glimpses of the world, where hawkers peddled noodles and ice kachang balls and sometimes in front of the coffee shops selling Hainanese chicken rice; and where sarabat stall sellers sold bryani and teh tarik.

I was the gawky twelve-year-old from the gangster-infested district of Macpherson growing into my teens and discovering a new world.

I morphed into the urban gal - running for buses which never waited, while glancing at the Catholic High boys in khaki shorts and oftentimes with unshaven legs . To many, they demonstrated a lack of civility and were often compared to the "English educated boys" at SJI as crass and unfashionable. To me, they were geekish Chinese educated boys in cute shorts.

I was meant to enjoy the gastronomical world of enjoying a spread of cuisine offered around the school area - relishng Victoria Hotel's chicken rice in cool air conditioning, the beef noodles with fresh sliced beef in thick dark soy based gravy laden with lime and irresistible chilli or the luxury of the Western pork chops after I have scrimped on my pocket money. After school hours , we would also saunter into the Bugis area of transversites and to more wonderful culinary delights, and a mixture of Mandarin and English songs blasting from the tape recorders. Shopping was part of our lifestyle, as I recall buying music tapes by Karen Carpenter and Bee Gees.

Inside our school, a linear British designed block of building which housed about 500 girls, I remembered fondly the Friday morning masses where having a religious moment meant a morning away from classes. I totally leveraged on it (God forgive me).

The pre-class courtyard mass and singing in the mornings liberated my lungs and allowed friendships to be formed across the snaking lines of giggling girls.

My CCA, one of which was school basketball, was the sole reason why I grew from a dwarf and gained five centimeters of height - I could reposition my place as the second person from the front to the middle of the line after lower secondary.

The late sports teacher Mr Quah's military and communist athletics trainings toughened me, gave me gusto and a fearless streak. I also morphed into an unfeminine androgynous gal which barred me from boys who were threatened by my boyishness and adroitness.

As I write this and watch the London Olympics, I am pleasantly reminded of the gold medal we won for the nationals inter-school games for 4X100m relay . The crowd at Kallang Stadium cheered jubilantly as we surpassed the other gal teams.
That experience of elation and pride is still not forgotten though I cannot remember my running mates except for Peggy Teo. At that time, our modest lifestyles meant there was no camera to record the medal ceremony.

Then there were Girl Guide days of campfire singing, knotting and obstacles courses, cooking outdoors with the most scanty resources of twigs and burnt leaves. In the midst of the urban setting outside the church , there was smoke spiraling as we hope that the rice will be cooked and the soup boiled. We would huddle proudly together to eat the little that we cooked with happiness and in unabashed camaraderie. "Be prepared" was the mission mantra. That was imbued in me.

My school days at SAC are dotted with bittersweet memories of play , pranks and sometimes prayer. Bitter because of the angst of the growing up teenage years, sweet as I was often emotionally comforted with our singing songs from ABBA, Don Mclean, Roberta Flack and the movie Grease.

Never one to shine academically, I was contented to pass adequately to move on to college.

I didn't realize that the best days of my life were over because college and university proved to be a bore and quite forgettable.

SAC was truly the place where I grew and blossomed.

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