My driving instructor is not a dislikeable man. In fact, being with him on the roads as a new driver is one of the safest feelings I own these days. He is an older man from days of the seventies, I think of him as sort of a radio. You know he says the same things at the same bends, gives the same advice and makes the same corrections for his students at certain junctions. Having been a driving coach for nearly three decades, he is like a long-suffering vehicle himself on the road, a man who lays out his speeches like well-planned roads and eatsbreathes diesel advice.
Whenever it gets too stressful for me as learner driver- over-paranoid on gear switching, stalling my engine in middle of a road, I invite forth his brand of heartland uncle banter. Whenever he gets too repetitive in his seasoned but confusing commands: ‘Switch gears now. The car is yours to control, so pace yourself. BUT switch gears NOW’, I switch his motor-mouth radio on. Suggestive conversation starters like, ‘So, the government just revealed the budget.’ Or, ‘Malayasian traffic is crazy.’ He will then start and go on and on with little to contribute on my part. Only a couple of mmms and yes-I-agrees and a smattering of conversational probes like, ‘oh why? ’ suffice.
Stories, opinions, beliefs then spill forth- topics that are well-oiled from coffeeshop discussions, beliefs strengthened from the consent of band of brothers in the drive-instructing circuit. He talks about pre-developed Singapore in its kampung days. Rising fuel costs. The uncorrupted white-shirted government and its cut-throat but wise policies. The theme of late: ‘Our kind is expiring’ he says. These days, everything seems to be in its last generation.
I secretly admire people like him. I imagine the way they think about life, and I think it’s a happy life they lead. It’s a kind of simplicity that disguises wisdom. It is a steadfast way at approaching all milestones on your path, a realistic way of approaching mean-hearted-trouble in life, sometimes, with a bit of mean-heartedness on his part.
As a safety ambassador on the road, he advocates road etiquette- giving way to others on the road, being responsible and giving appropriate signals to oncoming traffic. But ever so occasionally, you see a complementary but more steelly side arise in him. I am cutting into someone’s lane now for example– we move alongside the other vehicle for a while as my inexperienced driving-self begs for entry, but then my instructor becomes assertive on my behalf, he grabs the wheel and cuts belligerently into desired lane. The car behind me is annoyed, he honks (It is always a man who sounds the horn) we show him our Honda butt.
The instructor tuts. “Never mind him. I gave him so much time to proceed ahead and he didn’t. What’s he so mad about now? Hasn’t he been a learner before?”
Filed under: comment, daily grind
May 22, 2009 • 3:22 pm 0
the battles that start at home
So I’ve been working at this place for 2 months. A non profit organisation working for HIV/AIDS care, education and advocacy. Everyday, I learn more about how people feel about HIV/AIDS. The impression is that its everywhere- all of Africa and your concert-making Bono- so hugely-in-your-face a disease and yet to flip the underside of its infamosity- how much do people really know or care to know about it? What if someone you knew got it?
We’re in the car, I’m my usual stir-the-pot self, Dad is his usual reticent self.
“So you know that Candlelight thing I attended the other day…?”
Dad: Hmm.
Me: Its an event they hold, to honor the lost (to AIDS), the ‘victims’ to the virus-
Dad: (cuts me) Honor? Why use the word honor? What good did this people do to deserve our need to honor them? In fact, to put it in a bad way, some of them deserve it.. For someone who has a basic command of English, it is difficult that you choose to use this word to express the event. Perhaps you can say, to remember them, it is unfortunate that they died to AIDS, yes – but honor is something you use for people who have given service! Their death is hardly honorable!
Me: I merely lifted the official international descript! And certainly not everyone deserves it! I suppose they chose the word honor, because that is simply what we do for the dead- no death is unworthy, all deaths are the same- te loss of a human life. We don’t judge deaths. Also, I feel that used the word because we want people to remember at the end of the day, that dying to AIDS is not a natural death, its not a failure of any part of the body, its a virus. A malicious virus. Its a scourge, so we honor the loss to an epidemic, a worldwide tragedy.
Dad: (still chuffed) Well, I understand that word perfectly well. It’s just not the most appropriate word to use.
Me: So ANYWAY, during that event…. (I try to steer the conversation back on track).
We continue this conversation over the dinner table, over shared dishes and side glances to the idot box.
Me: So, you don’t really like my job, do you?
Dad: Not really. I just feel uncomfortable that you’re working with so many funny people…
Me: You’re afraid I’m going to turn gay too? Turn lesbian?
Dad: No.
Me: So you’re afraid I won’t meet any eligible people- is that it?
Dad: No. Although thats true, its unlikely you’ll have an affair there…
Me: (maintaining my usual straight-face) So what?
Dad: You’re working in the fringes of society. Its grey. It’s not what we normally face, around Singapore.
Me: Yes, I appreciate it. If anything, I think it only adds value. I like working in the fringes of society.
Dad: What were they like, initially, to you?
Me: Reserved. They kept to themselves. Not any more than people in another office would. But now everyone is great. The ice has broken.
Dad: So you only end up helping gay people?
Me: No. But if so, why not? If they’re gay, and they’re positive- they’ll be doubly discriminated against.
Dad: Shouldn’t concern you. I don’t have anything against them. Yes, I think they’re hilarious- from speech to behavior, I think they’re great entertainers. But that’s it. I have nothing against them.
Me: Okay…
Perhaps Dad is indicating to that ’space’ we as Singaporeans are encouraged to give to homosexuality in civic society. Yet discussed under such circumstances, I am forced to rethink a previously acceptable stance, is this live-and-let-live mentality, adequate? While one might quietly tolerate, there will always be latent negative energy dredged out by the majority when they think of this minority. They are uncomfortable.
I quote my Dad not to show how supposedly narrow-minded he is. I really appreciated that he shared his views. Had I been in another less contentious job, this conversation would never have seen daylight. Yet my Dad represents a class of conservatism, a middling population I suspect Singapore will outgrow. The future is pretty optimistic when we are talking about gay or AIDS.
But for now, I think the stigma is still apparent. People just don’t say it out loud. They don’t debate, they just assume blindly, judge narrowly.
Filed under: comment, daily grind