My life (Part one)

I don't know who might read about the life of someone as insignicant as me, nor do I care. Now then, for a little disclaimer:

The below mentioned characters really do exist and is/are not products of
my imgaination. I am no good with names though (lucky you) so most of the names
will be made up.

The Beginning

I lived with my grandparents when I was young and boy was I a handful then. I attended school at the small but respectable Ghim Moh Primary which I have no memories of except some teeth brushing ritual during recess which I totally abhor. This is because entire groups of us, little imps would gather at a longish metal sink and on command start brushing in a fluid "up and down" motion. Now this is perfectly alright for me- other than the fact that sometimes my friend's toothpate foam would invariably land on my shirt . I also had to walk in the canteen with my toothpaste and toothbrush , which was still wet mind you ,in my pocket.

During recess I would eat the food my grandmother prepared for me and handed to me when she walked me to school every morning. Sometimes it was egg-dipped bread , at others I just threw away the entire recess and spoiled myself with a 10c piece of hotdog.

I learnt cycling with my grandfather in those innocent days, where results don't matter and the other thing that matters was what time recess and the end of classes was.

It was all well and good, until my parents decided for me to stay with them. Don't ask me why I didn't stay with them in the first place but I gathered it had to do with their hectic working lives.

And so I moved from Buona Vista to Bedok.

The Head Rub

I found myself in Fengshan Primary School in the morning of 3 Jan 1994. So why Windy Hill? ( I know that the feng in fengshan is not wind, so just leave it alright?) Why you ask? Because of predominantly one factor. My Aunite was teaching there and by some ridiculous chance got into the best class in Primary three, 3/1.

As you might have guessed, the people were all geniuses. One topped English, Maths , Science in the entire level had time for art and was a top athelete. In fact, they were so good, I suspected I had a learning disability and promptly got myself a retarded look.

OMG. That look is so retro Elvis would have been so proud of me.

And so that was the ugly truth. What was I thinking? I looked like a misfit in the Primary School. And misfits like me attracted bullies like houseflies to rubbish. So I got myself a Malay bully at a tender year of 9. I thought he wanted to be friends with me intiately. But only when I told my parents he borrowed 20 cents from me every recess( which he never returned) and in turn gave me a headrub with his knckles on my temples did I realise that the world wasn't the pretty with rainbows bridges and chocolate-coated sunflowers.

My father confronted him and of course, that was the last time I went to recess 20 cents short with a headache.

But the biggest problem was not the bully. Oh no. It was my class. They were geniuses remember? Despite averaging a rather good band 2s and grade Bs, I got last in class.

As clever as they were, they did not know that my Auntie was one of the maths teachers in the school which I had been instructed to keep quiet about lest the pupils suspect something if I did too well. Of course, that wasn't too difficult since I got last in class, remember? I felt like a spy on an espionage mission.

Of course my parents got mighty worried and got me tuition for every subject I got a Grade B or a Band 2 in, except Art.

Despite the tremendous effort I put in, I got last in class in the final semester examination again. It seemed that I just was not cut out to be in the special stream and so in Primary 4 got transferred to the class 4/3.

By this time I knew Chinese was not my cup of tea. During spelling tests I copied. Of course I made an effort to copy some words wrongly. My Chinese teacher was a wrinkled affair wearing a pair of thick magnifying glass-type glasses. Everytime a Dictation test was coming she would pull out weaker students in front of the class to recite the passage together. I was naturally a permanent member of the exclusive "club".

" Hai Wei (that was my Chinese name)," she would fuss, " Wo Kan de chu de mei hao hao xue ni de ting xie." (I can see that you didn't learn your dictation properly.)

" Lao Shi, ni you bu shi wo, ni ze me dong?," (Teacher, how did you know?), I taunted.

She paused all-knowingly and proudly announced, " Kan ni de zhui xing," ( by looking at your lips), all the time looking smug over the over of her glasses a.k.a Ken in Singapore Idol.

I had been exposed.

Then there was the maths teacher which fortunately or unfortunately came in the form of Mrs Maureen Tan, my Aunite. I remember being the best behaved during her class. You never knew when she would call my father or mother. For all you know, she could already have entered my parent's number of the fast-dail option in her handphone.

I kept my friends nicknames for her well in the recesses of my frontal lobe in my subconciousness, well hidden from her.

"Shh!," the look-out would signal. " Boring Tan lai liao!"

But that was not the only thing I had to hide form her. Whenever family gatherings between my family and my Aunite's family came , I prepared myself for the worst and braced myself for the nagging that was sure to come.

" You know hor," my Aunite would fuss to my mother , who by now was mollified by how I was exchanging stamps with Isaac during a Chinese Class," Daniel , your handwriting is so illegible. 9 look like a, 5 look like s!"

As if to rub salt into the wound by cracking a cinche joke, she would continue disapprovely,

"Aimming to be a doctor is it?"

My mother would then reciprocate with a forced smile.

That year I got into Top ten of the class. Yes, even with bad handwriting.

The remarks in ink was made by the Principal. Talk about an exemplary student. Who's last in class now eh?

And to add that final hint of gold in the word "exemplary", I was made prefect that year. It was pretty much a good thing with what being able to wear a red tie with the golden words prefect printed on it and the "privilleges" that came it ( The teachers could call me to carry their books. Imagine that.The Honour.) Of course it came with certain "inconveniences".

One of which was not being able to go for the full recess because I had duty ten minutes before the bell rang for class. It was a duty which I disbatched with the utmost diginity. I caught people running along the corridor along the teachers' room and scribbled their names and classes down in a notebook. The system was sound but the fact that I kept misplacing the notebooks meant there was no permanent record- something I've long solved by making up names whenever the disciplinary mistress does a spotcheck.

I went up to Primary Six, all the time keeping my top-ten title and graduated from Fengshan in 1997 with my Auntie as my form teacher with an aggregate of 232.

- to be continued-