This time next week we will be in the comfort of our own rooms

Right now, we are rained out in Dushanbe here in Tajikistan, and we are into the final third of our journey west.

I have been keeping my friends posted on Facebook with photos from the trip; an activity I have never indulged in. I hope I am not boring them though immodestly I would say the 150+ photos (about 10 a day) uploaded so far are quite nice.

But the photos are an edited, curated experience. Being there - on the streets, getting the smiles and sometimes even the request for a photo, concluded with a flat palm on the heart to signify gratitude - these experiences cannot be properly captured on the shots. Instead, these are felt in the hearts and having now been to three Central Asian countries (we will re-enter Uzbekistan tomorrow), I must say the hospitality they exude is both warm and authentic. One would expect guides to make their guests feel welcome but Stalbeck the story-telling Kyrgyz, Madina the motherly host and Firdaus the accommodating and kind patriot are as much part of the journey as their beautiful countries.

Perhaps because we came to Kyrgyzstan via Kashgar and hence were subject to their “Big Brother” checks, the sense of relief may have made the new place even more welcoming and magnificent. I assure you we were by now hardened travellers and not that easily persuaded. In fact, at the China-Kyrgyzstan border, we had to navigate nearly a kilometre of “neutral zone” down a rough chicane road in cold drizzle, only to be stopped at a military post and being pestered to be driven another kilometre to the immigration checkpoint for SGD4 each. Stalbeck was late. It was not a good start though I must say the rest of the trip, it went perfectly. The weather cooperated, and so did the roads and occasional traffic of cattles, goats and sheep. With all these sights in order, we needed only to have our breaths taken away and they well were.

We have now left the deserts behind and ventured into mountain territory and were immediately taken by the majesty of these landforms reaching for the skies. I must addd that I felt wistful that J was not with us as he had to head back home for work. He would have been intensely thrilled.

After the harrowing tend hour drive (that could have been done in half the time if the overzealous privacy invading checks are moderated and inexplicably long lunch breaks are truncated) for the 300+km from Kashgar, we rested in a small village called Sary-Tash. We lived in the only guesthouse with indoor toilet which promptly ran out of power (and water) and ended up having to use the outhouse anyways. All these added to the adventure for we were communing with nature in this first stop in the ‘Stans like the locals, esp the Sary-Tash folks who seemed genuinely happy to see us. M and I took a walk through their village and though our destination was the panoramic views of the Tien Shan and Pamir Mountains, we were also rewarded by curious and happy kids including two boys up on a rooftop stacking hay and keen to get to know M. It must be frightening and flattering for her; frightening because in Kyrgyzstan there actually is a rite of bride “kidnaping” for elopement.

It was here in Sary-Tash that we were to encounter a new form of tour guide: the story-telling sort (in keeping with the Manas tradition in this country which purportedly has the longest story book in the world, longer than India’s Ramayana and Greece’s Odyssey. We then continued journeying west and every stop turned into an oral tradition including when he and I sat in Babur’s house at the peak of Suleiman Tol in Osh and there I heard stories of the great man’s ambition and conquest which eventually led to the founding of the Mughal Empire.

Osh is a major city that marked the start of the fertile Fergana Valley here in Central Asia. It is a 300km stretch of fertile land irrigated by the Syr Daria/river originating from Tien Shan/mountains. Hemmed in on both sides by mountains and deserts, this is the place where travellers found respite and more. We then travelled from its eastern tip in Osh, Kyrgyzstan through Kokand, Uzbekistan (the erstwhile capital and still proud of being the intellectual & cultural hub) to Khujand, Tajikistan formerly known as Alexandria Eschate and Leninabad.

The division into three countries for this valley speaks of how geography shapes history. It is THE sought after place in this lands of mountains and deserts. All the three cities that mark the tips and centre of the valley are important and now each belong to a different country, though in ages past they have all belong together, be it under the Russian Empire, the Mongolian Khanate or Somoni Empire. Under the banner of the Soviet Union, these lands were divided into states as we have today though the borders are somewhat laughable. There is a road to Kujhand where the left lane belongs to Kyrgyzstan and the right to Tajikistan.

Tajikistan is perhaps the most surprising country for us. It is as unknown to us as Kyrgyzstan except for one fact: it has been in the news since the beginning of the 21st century as a country torn by civil war. Imagine our surprise when we say that not only is it now peaceful, it is also moderate and not an extremist religious state although it shares a long border with Afghanistan.

There is advantage in adversity, as the saying goes and here in Tajikistan there is a strong patriotic fervour. The people here are happy to be free from the tyrannies of war and really want to progress. This was made so visceral to us esp on the first evening in Kujhand our guide Firdavs belted out the national anthem with vim and vigour. Indeed, every museum we step into tell of the great history of the Tajik (often extended into Persian, Aryan peoples) and how well into the modern times, they are still producing world class talents (esp of the literary, cultural sort).

All these countries are just 28 years old, from their independence of the Soviet Union. The efforts to build infrastructure (there is construction everywhere), welcome tourists (procedures are increasingly made easier, which explains our ease of travel in this part compared to when in Xinjiang) and to fire up the national spirit. I felt this more in the smaller countries (K and T, then in U).

Inexplicably (and perhaps not so), YouTube made a suggestion for me to view a video of Singapore in 1983. As it turns out, that is also when Singapore has experienced 28 years of self rule and these cities we have just seen are actually ahead in terms of infrastructure. I really hope the people are really hungry for that is the true source of progress. With the genie out of the bottle, let’s indeed hope it is impossible to put it back in again and may they grow well.

Tajikistan’s capital city of Dushanbe is almost a textbook application of city building. Markets have been cleaned up and bazaars are now housed in modern building more akin to shopping malls. The streets are wide and tree lined and it has been said that this city has more land devoted to parks and gardens than anywhere else in the world. Having walked through a couple of these, we are ready believers.

As we press on westwards, deep into the heart of Central Asia, the trip is less about sights & sounds but a voyage of reflection and renewal.

An apt juncture to start

Travelogues has been one my favourite from of writings. My blogs the last few years are more about Everyday life, at school, at work and at home. I was keen to start writing about this trip but had left this particular penmanship exercise till halfway into this travel adventure. At this point, one the 11th day of the trip, I am ready to pour some thoughts onto the page.

This trip that has lived up to all the mystique surrounding the Silk Road, and none more so than having to sit here in the lobby of the border crossing into Krgrzystan awaiting our passports, bags, phones, photos and books to be cleared. In fact clearing these staging posts has been an adventure in itself. Whether departing or arriving from train stations or crossing checkpoints on the highway, they are very careful who and what they let through. It is good precaution and one of the reasons why the country is so safe.

We started in Beijing, flying in from Singapore while Josh flew in from Tijuana after his project in Baja California. It was nice to meet this way. Really shows the globalised state we live in.

We were there on May 4th, and while this date is more popularly known as Star Wars day, it is also the anniversary of the rise of significant philosophical school of thought in the country, the anti-imperialist new culture movement. In fact, this was its 100th anniversary. It was a good time to share with Josh and Meg my thoughts on this matter.

Beijing technically is not part of the ancient Silk Road. Though the seat of the Yuan dynasty, the Silk Road terminus is Xian. So we made our way there not on the high speed railway but on the overnight sleeper train. If I find it hard sleeping in SQ, you can well imagine I hardly caught 40 winks. The rest of the travellers though slept soundly, for 8 full hours. So, they arrived all fresh and we were met by Jolene, a friendly Chinese guide who were relieved we spoke Chinese and are not from UK. A local from the city, she started us off the right way by bringing us to the museum and narrated the history of the country and city.

Xian is a key destination on the Silk Road. The first thing that underlined this fact was that Xian housed a mosque which is a living tourist site today. Then known as Changan (Long Peace), it was the capital of the very first unified China. Though his reign and indeed the dynasty Qin Shi Huang founded was short lived, he introduced one common language, one key factor to ensuring seamless communication. We saw his the warriors and horses guarding him in the afterlife. And it was here that I realised how I preferred my archaeology: raw!

I liked seeing the half buried, even fragmented pieces, in situ, rather than completely done up. I know get why some vintage car collectors prefer to keep their barn finds as is.

Xian’s ancient city walls still stands today and a timely reminder of how walls work. Our experience of walking on it is only enhanced by the viewing of Netflix’s Marco Polo that dramatized Kublai Khan’s efforts to rule all of China. That was merely 800 years or so ago but they found an advanced matriarchal civilisation of Banpo right in the middle of the city which dates back 6000 years ago. Indeed, this city is Changan.

We continued westwards just like the great monk and stopped next in Dunhuang. We were very much in Silk Road adventure mode (albeit gentrified for tourists) and rode camels (and ATV) on the sand dunes of Mt Mingsha and took in the beautiful view of Crescent Moon Lake.

What really took our breath away though is the desert scape. Dunhuang is an oasis at the edge of Taklamakan desert and the Silk Road branches into Northern, central and Southern pathways from here. And seeing how beautiful it is here, it makes sense that this strategically located town is the Crossroads. Much of the town is new but the landscape is not and we were well awed.

We also visited nearby Mogao grottoes, where the rich and the religious carved grottoes out of the sandstone mountain adorned with beautiful Buddhist art. Some of these have survived incredibly well hidden from the elements within the grottoes. It is however much harder from the theiving hands of man and sadly ancient Buddhist manuscripts were taken from one of the grottoes back to Britain.

From Dunhuang, we took another overnight train to Turpan. To do so, we had to drive almost 200kms to Liuyuan past the Gobi desert, with the Hei Shan in the background. There are two types of desert: sandy ones or rocky ones. Gobi is as rocky as Taklamakan is sandy. Both are dry but Gobi is also flat and so for miles all you see I are flat arid plains, which is cleverly utilised now as wind and solar farms turning a barren wasteland into energy producing areas. Dunhuang has been rebuilt for tourists but Liuyuan certainly wasn’t. It’s a railway station town and looks as grimy and greasy as industrial outposts are expected to be.

We were happy to be in Turpan, which is of Silk Road heritage, with security and border controls to match. How we wish we had the Khan’s golden tablet to facilitate easy passage through all of these stops but alas, two penknives and a bottle of perfume short, not to mention much time taken to record our passports (manually and photographically), we remain mere tourists on this historical path.

Turpan is proud, and rightly so, of its past but I feel it tries too hard to showcase it. With its landscapes of the Huoshan and Tienshan in between both Gobi and Taklamakan deserts, Turpan is a crossroad city just like a Dunhuang before. It too has its Buddhist grottoes in Bekzlekik but nearly all of these have been defaced by Muslims who came to dominance here 800 years ago. This is located in a canyon so all very picturesque, and so they built up new “old” structures and even film sets around these sites.

We thought we would had left Disneyland meet Haw Par Villa behind after the Bekzlekik when we visited the Grape Valley that Turpan is famous for. Alas this was no Napa Valley but rather almost an amusement centre with bright coloured shuttle cars with dance floor music and acrobatic shows. We did buy some raisins though.

The day was much redeemed when Momingjie, our jolly chain-smoking guide brought Josh and me to the ruins of the 2000 year old Yar City which is perhaps the best preserved site from two Millenia ago in the world. They’ve made no gaudy embellishments here and made the experience so much more authentic. The fact that we saw Banpo just days ago also allowed us to imagine our minds what that could have looked like.

I mentioned that only Josh and I saw the Yar City ruins. Meg had fallen ill in this desert town (just like Josh ten years ago in the Indian desert town of Rajasthan) and supermom Dawn stayed at the lodge to look after her. In fact, supermom whom we just celebrated mother’s day with came fully prepared with medicines, herbs, rice and even a cooker!

She need not rely on any shaman of the steppes to nurse our daughter back to health and in no time, Meg was up and about. The recovery was fortunately quite speedy that even at sunset dinner in Turpan at the rooftop of the lodge we were staying in, we played a question game Josh introduced us to. We continued it and learned that as parents, we have attributes that provides deep roots and strong wings. No prizes for guessing who is which.

The combination of these traits are strongly required as we pushed to the westernmost tip of China, into Kashgar. It too has the setting of a period movie and in fact The Kite Runner was filmed here. It is here in Kashgar, esp within the walls of the ancient city with its free-range kids that the full experience of travelling in these parts come alive. The people, young and old, male and female, are of all complexions. They are truly a blend of all worlds, and a living testimony to global integration.

Sure, it has it sites, like the beautiful Abu Hojak tombs which I felt was a predecessor to the Taj Mahal (and we were to learn more about the founder of the Mughal empire later) not just for Xiang Fei but also for its architecture.

Then there is the Sunday market and their great bazaar. Sadly, there was an outbreak of swine flu when we were there and the livestock market was closed. We saw the bird market instead and that experienced extracted from Dawn the observation if there was a categorisation of 4th world economies. For the way the market is (dis)organised, the throngs of people through it, the mode of negotiation (hanging out a 100¥ note to the seller indicating your last and final offer) and the general din of the place truly hark back to an earlier less developed era. Silk Road, did I hear anyone say? It’s just as well that the livestock market was closed for I dare say adding to this chaos the putrid smell of live animal droppings would be too much to bear.

The grand bazaar is much more organised until we reached the outside for on Sunday all sorts of people come out to hawk their wares and some even the household items of their grandparents on the streets. In the market, in the bazaar or on the streets, these vendors all deserve their place in the tapestry that is life in Kashgar. This has always been a trading city, from the old days of the Silk Road, and making/trading is very much in the lifeblood of the people here.

We have now spent 11 days on the road and have another dozen days to go. Our experiences on the China Silk Road have been unlike any other trips we have taken. Describing this as a trip is quite inadequate, as this is turning out to be a voyage. Strong wings, deep roots.

Ready for another sabbatical

Every 5 years, the firm allows each partner two months of paid sabbatical. Considering all the vacation days we have accumulated over the years, this is about the right recompense.

I miss my first window (due in 2010) as I was getting appointed to lead the region but managed to take it by 2014 and went to South America with D.

It’s been five years hence and I am about to take my second, and this time the whole family will start a Silk Road adventure. J needs to head back for his work attachment midway but M, D and I will continue beyond China into three of The Central Asia “KTU-stans”.

Am really looking forward to it, especially when the body has been signalling for me to take a break.

Travelling the Silk Road May not seem like a tranquil trip to do for someone in need of rest. But for a history-buff like me, retracing the journey of Marco Polo and immersing myself in new cultures (not to mention a number of oasis stops along the way) is a nice way to distract the overactive mind to something different and engaging rather than work and also to keep the body active and hopefully fitter.

J of the Jungle

You may wonder what it takes for something to feature on this blog.

If you have read this for the past 5 years, you'd know it is not only my musings. I also include pieces I find interesting that speaks to me and my circumstances. These will therefore all be captured in posterity (or for as long as Blogger.com remains in operations).

Naturally, the last 3 entries and now this 4th one are not written by me. There are essays by my children but clearly I found these meaningful and worth recording. This one was written at the end of 2016 and got J admitted into a number of US universities.

Photocredit: discoverdruham.com

The continuous high-pitched whine had my soldiers at wits’ end. The cloud of mosquitoes around our heads bore the distinctive stripes of the Aedes genus: carrier of the dreaded Zika virus and Dengue fever.

As the insect chatter rang in my ears, my boots bit into my heels and thorns wedged themselves in my arms. Never before had I felt so alive. I urged my platoon on.

We had a destination to reach. For this exercise, arriving undetected mattered. This depended not only on our training and knowledge, but also our attitude and resolve, turning away from the path of least resistance to stay concealed.

Navigation was tough; the challenges I faced in the mountains of Australia and Taiwan, the rainforests of Brunei and Indonesia, the arid plains of Mongolia and the savannahs of Zimbabwe taught me that nothing in these majestic yet relentless environments came easy. Their inaccessibility underscored their mystic beauty, and my resolve to unravel them grew. Years of training with my scout troop and the military honed my ability to visualize terrain to the finest detail, to know instinctively where we came from and where we had to go.

Nonetheless, there was still much I did not know, and the deeper understanding I craved could only come through completely immersing myself in Nature: its communities and its vagaries.

I am reminded of the Silver Desert Ant (Cataglyphis Bombycina) every time I traverse unknown terrain. Clothed in reflective armor to minimize radiation from the sun, it is easily the hardiest creature in its barren habitat. Using this to its advantage, it ventures out for food in the heat of the day, when predators scurry for shade. Yet, it can only withstand a few minutes of such thermal stress. Hence, its sense of direction, derived via vectoring the sun’s position and an internal pedometer, is absolutely crucial. Should it fail to find its way to the nest, death follows swiftly.

More than the grab-and-go missions of the specialized desert ants, the living rafts of Amazonian Fire Ants (Solenopsis Invicta) and even the colony building efforts of Garden Ants in my ant farm display selflessness that I initially thought was beyond the humble insect. Yet day after day they bravely risk lives and limbs for the survival of their colony, protecting their queen and her larvae.

In the animal kingdom, short lifespans mean there is little difference between survival and sustainability - continuity is essential. Somewhere in our evolution though, we seem to have forgotten this. Around me, an increasingly affluent Asia is bombarded with invitations to “The Great Singapore Sale”, “Black Friday Discounts”; even Mother’s Day and Christmas have been commercialized. They encourage self-centered consumerism, which could well lead us down a path of unsustainable over-consumption.

A man of the jungle, living in a small city-state devoid of natural resources leaves me yearning to be closer to nature, knowing that the demands of modern society can be met without depleting Nature’s capacity. A man of hope, I believe we will remember our responsibility to future generations. I want to live and leave a better world.

Looking for a way to realize this dream, my vocation found me. While undergoing military service, I discovered an organization with a purpose I identify with: to protect and serve. I am proud to be part of it and hunger for the guidance of a strong education so that I may better shape the system from within, to be better able to battle the insidious forces that threaten the natural environment, our physical and spiritual home.

Democritus advised: “Happiness resides not in possessions and not in gold, happiness dwells in the soul.” I draw inspiration from the way nature intended us to live; the betterment of the community is not so much an ideal as it is an absolute necessity to protect the world that we so dearly love.

Still on the topic of personal statements ...

I had posted here, with pride, essays of M. J obviously went thru the same process a couple of years earlier. This is one that got him into various universities in the UK (which he eventually opted not to go to)

Nature fascinates me. As a child I wandered around my neighbourhood catching bugs, marveling at the sheer diversity of their species and roles in the natural world. This was my first exposure to etymology and evolution, leaving me thirsting for more. Growing older, my expeditions brought me further afield. I studied, and on occasion had to live off, biomes ranging from Bruneian jungles to Australian mountains and Mongolian steppes. Here I learned to appreciate the way our environment shapes us, through its rugged and often beautiful ecosystems.

In pursuit of explanations for the phenomena I marveled at when outdoors, I came across Geography. The interdisciplinarity of the A-Level curriculum encompassed physical and human aspects, allowing me to intimately research scientific topics such as Tsunami Genesis. This taught us the origins and spatial distribution of tsunamis, and how to mitigate against their devastating effects through hard and soft preventive measures. At the same time, I investigated qualitatively the interplay between anthropogenic climate change and the Earth’s own Milankovitch cycles in raising global temperatures. Both scientific and human perspectives allow us to better understand the complex environment we live in. Perhaps studying this relationship more intimately would advance the sustainable development we desperately need in the face of Global Warming.

My love for the environment drove me to conserve it for future generations: I devoted my youth to finding a way to achieve balance between our modern way of life and the ancient natural processes beyond our control. In 2012, I travelled to Taiwan to design and build earthquake-proof buildings for the safety of their citizens. In 2013, I juxtaposed Temasek history and Peranakan culture against economy and technology to define the Singapore identity on a national stage. In 2014, I trained for, then competed in the International Geography Olympiad held in Krakow, presenting Singaporean population and resource management strategies to solve major urban planning issues on a global scale.

Despite the years I spent researching, I knew that my understanding remains incomplete.

Beyond the academic arena, I sought Geography once again during my time in the military. Our tactics were derived from the most strategic use of surrounding terrain. I realised that victory did not belong to the side that fought the landscape, instead it belonged to the side able to use the landscape to fight for them. This has proven true since the Battle of Thermopylae, and continued to manifest itself throughout history: Russia repeatedly defended the North European Plain against the Poles, Swedes, French and Germans, China sought the annexation of Tibet to prevent invaders from amassing on the commanding heights of the Tibetan Plateau. Truly, geographical acuity can determine the fate of nations.

As President of the United States and its Commander-in-Chief, Barack Obama hiked up Alaskan glaciers to personally come to terms with the significance of climate change today. Indeed, Geography informs our political, social and economic decisions on the highest levels, and cannot be overlooked.

Having lived in both Malaysia, a land dotted with oil palm and rubber plantations, and Singapore, a tiny island with a sixth of Malaysia’s population, I understand two paradigms. The first is that of the large peninsula rich and resources and manpower, able to craft policies to utilise them, whereas the metropolitan city-state with neither, has to rely instead on import and ingenuity to stay afloat. The choices that we make in order to cope with the environmental hand we are dealt defines us as nations and spells our future.

I wish to stand at the confluence of Physical and Human Geography to find the way forward for our societies to best work with, not against nature to achieve sustainability. This requires a broad yet intimate understanding of both Nature’s and Man’s vagaries, one which I hope to acquire through my further studies in one of the finest institutions in the UK.

The lessons we take from obstacles we encounter can be fundamental to later success. Recount a time when you faced a challenge, setback, or failure. How did it affect you, and what did you learn from the experience?

M also applied to US universities but merely get onto the waitlist. She had only applied to top "ivy league and equivalent" schools which are notoriously hard to get into (the recent admission shenanigans aside). In their response, the US schools however demonstrate a masterclass in managing disappointments!

One school wrote back,
"I hope you understand that the decision reflects the extraordinary range of talents represented in our applicant pool and not a judgment about your own abilities and potential. Of the nearly thirty seven thousand individuals who applied this year, most are fully capable of doing outstanding work and making a contribution to a campus community. It is painful to us that we must turn away so many superlatively talented students. You may be tempted to ask what was lacking in your application. In truth, it is usually difficult to point to obvious weaknesses when so many applicants have demonstrated real achievements and potential for the future. Our decisions say far more about the small number of spaces available and the difficult choices we make than they do about a candidate's personal and academic promise".
What linguistic prowess!

Well, it is unfortunate she was not chosen but her personal statement essay already tell us she will rise well from this.

Sounds of stiff applause filled the arena. Competitors filed in, discreetly sizing each other up. The tension was palpable, alongside the unmistakable smell of treats.

I was 12 and at my maiden canine obedience competition with my 6-month-old poodle, Caramel. Awaiting our turn, I felt Caramel’s nose against my ankle. Neither of us were good with anxiety: at the vet, Caramel had thrown up in hopes of escaping vaccination.

“Next, please.” Heart racing, I signalled her to begin the routine. To my relief, the first segment progressed well. Caramel surprised me (and the judges, I hoped) with impeccable moves.

However, part two was less certain. Despite weeks of practice, we had not mastered the “sit-and-stay”, because six-month-old Caramel just could not keep still. After instructing her, I headed for the exit, but the sound of muffled laughter stopped me. I whipped around, only to find her crouched in the midst of a Number Two. Speechless, I watched horrified as Caramel finished her business and fled the room, disqualifying us. All hopes of winning were soiled, literally.

Running after Caramel, I felt like an utter loser. My grandparents would be aghast! Second-generation immigrants to Malaysia, failing was not an option in their struggles against discrimination. They had taught me that only winners are rewarded. Imagining their frowns at this public disgrace, I was close to tears. I had never not aced before.

Upon finding Caramel, my mortification eased. Wiggling her bottom joyfully, she was oblivious to her blunder. I couldn’t help laughing. Indeed, it was absurd to be ashamed of failing instead of laughing it off and moving on! So, we re-entered the arena, my head (and her tail) held high to friendly applause.

I’ve been in many competitions since, albeit without Caramel who still poops at awkward times. Playing softball competitively for 6 years and representing my country on several occasions, I know the heartache of strikeouts and elation of homeruns. Palms sweating before each match, I was anxious throughout every season but I grew better at conquering the fear of losing. Familiar with the pain of failure on the field, I rallied my teammates when they underperformed. Earliest at trainings and last to leave, our tireless practise saw us rise from underdogs to national champions.

It was one thing to occasionally lose in sports, but it was more daunting to fail in areas I have always excelled in. Although well-meaning peers warned against overloading my schedule and staining my near-perfect grades, I accepted a prestigious offer to read Geopolitics at the National University of Singapore. A geography student surrounded by history majors, I struggled without the pre-requisite foundations (Robert McNamara seemed like just another bespectacled Caucasian.) Knowing less than others was tough, but I wanted to learn – not to become the best, but to satisfy my curiosity. I devoured jargoned readings and researched issues like the Israel-Palestine conflict. Fortunately Singapore is far-removed from violent conflict, but Benedict Anderson’s observation of nationalism as Imagined Communities holds true. Having completed the final assessments, I don’t know what my grade is, but it’s all good. At least, I now recognise defence secretaries and understand how conflicts shape policies, or how policies worsen conflict in the thick of the fog of war.

By the time I was elected vice-chair of the school’s Peer Support Board, I was unafraid to try new things and risk failure, but this also made me overzealous. In organizing Orientation programmes, my proactive ways prevented assigned leaders from working things out themselves. Thereafter, I consciously sought others’ opinions, learning to empower rather than command.

Born determined and competitive, I cannot help striving for the best. Now though, I’ve learnt to seize instead of size opportunities. Inspired by Caramel, I’ve learnt that failing is but a chance to improve. Like her, I’ll aim for Number 1, but won’t let life’s Number 2s get me down!

 PS: about a month ago, Caramel's brother, Summer passed after living a long 15 dog years. He is happy in doggy heaven.

Flying the coop

M passed her driving test two days ago. This means she can now move around even more freely around the city. It's yet another step towards adult freedom she is taking.

Come October though, she will be taking more than a step: more like a leap or a flight! After working really hard throughout her schooling years, she has done well and got admitted into a good university over in the UK.

Photo credit: Carl Court, Getty Images

The university admission process nowadays include submitting a personal statement. Here's the one she wrote that got her into her university.

My neighbours are unpleasant. They lack etiquette, quarrel vociferously, raid our kitchen and mate indiscriminately in public. While nettled by their temerity and thievery, I feel for them. These long-tailed macaque monkeys were left hungry and homeless as nearby forests were cleared for urban development. Were we the first intruders? Alarmed, my human neighbours and I petitioned to conserve the forest.

I care about how humans change nature, and how nature fights back. Take climate change: while Albert Tucker’s Prisoners’ Dilemma reinforces the imperative for cooperation, there is equal urgency for individual effort. Thus inspired, I produced a video for the National Climate Change Competition to raise awareness about climate change in Singapore. I explored Dr. Renee Lertzman’s Environmental Melancholia, where though many recognise the climate crisis, its sheer magnitude is paralysing. I addressed this aspect of human nature with a practical vision to reduce Singapore’s carbon footprint, through roads that can harness cars’ kinetic energy to power streetlights. My video was placed second nation-wide, but my bigger takeaway was the importance of behavioral science in mitigating climate change. Driven by humans, eventually affecting humans, solutions must be human-centred.

All nature is founded on biochemistry. It awed me that life could be traced back to the simple elements of carbon, hydrogen, nitrogen and oxygen. Intrigued by enantiomerism and its applications in human health, I searched for more but sadly found many gaps: Thalidomide, a drug used to ease morning sickness, caused birth deformities and even deaths due to side effects of its enantiomer. Such unknowns in the medical field underscore the mysteries about humans that still escape us and my curiosity for answers led to my topping Biology in Secondary 4.

Knowing my own studies are incomplete, I opted to read Geopolitics in the National University of Singapore. I learnt a new dimension of human science: the relationship between space and power. Man’s reliance on the environment shapes our policies. Ironically, we cheer scientific breakthroughs for preservation of life, but ignore the millions displaced in conflict. Our Rohingya neighbours suffer atrocities not too long after genocide in Germany. Thus I am grateful that in multi-racial Singapore, urban planning is guided by spatial justice. Amy Chua wrote in ‘Political Tribes’ that humans are wired with tribal instincts & identities. For cohesion of increasingly plural societies, we need both geopolitical and psychological understandings of humans to create liveable spaces that facilitate optimal human relationships. In short, geography makes us human.

 I took this further when participating in the National Geography Challenge. In my fieldwork research on therapeutic landscapes as conceived by Wilbert Gesler, I found hospital green spaces do reduce levels of cancer biomarkers. Through interacting with patients, I also found their need for emotional wellness. I proposed multi-functional infrastructure with natural elements for physiological recovery, such as lining train tracks with grass and vertical farms on apartment blocks. My research contributed to my individual Gold and team Bronze award in the competition, and my selection for the Geography Talent Development Programme.

Keen to see good plans in action, I secured an internship with National Parks Board. I made use of Geographical Information Systems to map out future zones of development for the Botanic Gardens. The exercise helped me appreciate the judicious planning needed to sustain growth in space constrained Singapore. If we can house 7 million on 50 km2, in theory the world’s population could thrive in just 1000 such islands.

Macaque monkeys are not unique to Singapore, nor are the factors contributing to their displacement. I am excited by the prospect of learning alongside leading minds, for a collective impact through individual effort when we return to the different parts of our world.

I don't think I could have written anything half as accomplished had it been my application. Onwards and upwards, my daughter.....