Where is God in this?

I drew these when I was listening to a sermon on Sunday about being rooted in God's love. At one point, he asked: "What is love to you?" My immediate heartfelt response was: "Christ dying on the cross for me". The passage cited was Ephesians 3:16-19.


I drew the first picture when the pastor was elaborating on those verses. To me, God's love would be the arrows extending towards infinity in four different directions. That, to me, was how much God loved us - the height, breadth, length and the depth. The second picture completed my understanding of love, which is expressed fully and completely in the cross.


The pastor said that the measure of the love we offer to others is also a measure of Christ's love which dwells in our hearts. If we close the door to Christ in our hearts, then we will not be able to extend love to others.


Our love to others flows out of Christ's love in us, that is, the Holy Spirit that dwells in us. It is this which enables us to love the "unlovables" because through human effort alone, we would fail miserably and we would find it exhaustive and emotionally draining. Without the Holy Spirit in us, we would not able to extend agape love - the unconditional love and concern for others, and also expressed in God's spiritual love for His people. God says this is how others will know us as His followers.


During our dark times, it is extremely difficult to believe that God loves us because all we can see is the deep hurt, the searing pain and the immense sorrow. Sometimes we feel like David in Psalm 13 (How long, O LORD? Will You forget me forever? How long will You hide Your face from me? How long shall I take counsel in my soul, Having sorrow in my heart daily?).


I have felt like David on a few occasions, when worries overwhelmed me, when fears threatened to sink me and my emotions got the better of me. My comfort? Taking one day at a time because "always remember that the future comes one day at a time" (quote by Dean Acheson), and knowing that God is piggybacking me because He knows my load is far too heavy for me to bear alone, even though I may not feel it. God is always with me, and that is enough for me.


During those times, I also find it a great comfort to read biblical verses that reassure me of who I am in the sight of God - fearfully and wonderfully made, and of such tremendous value to God that He would die for me.


Human memory is short and this is why we need to be diligent in reading the Bible daily, so that God's eternal promises fill our mind, our spirit and our soul and there is no room for Satan, whose role is to kill, steal and destroy.


Ephesians 3:13-19

13 Therefore I ask that you do not lose heart at my tribulations for you, which is your glory.
14 For this reason I bow my knees to the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ,
15 from whom the whole family in heaven and earth is named,
16 that He would grant you, according to the riches of His glory, to be strengthened with might through His Spirit in the inner man,
17 that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith; that you, being rooted and grounded in love,
18 may be able to comprehend with all the saints what is the width and length and depth and height—
19 to know the love of Christ which passes knowledge; that you may be filled with all the fullness of God.

The year ahead

A timely reminder from a dear friend
that life is lived in the present,
not forgetting the past
but looking ahead with hope
to a better future.

The way we live

Wherever man may stand, whatever he may do, to whatever he may apply his hand, in agriculture, in commerce, and in industry, or his mind, constantly standing before the face of his God, he is employed in the service of his God, he has strictly to obey his God, and above all, he has to aim at the glory of his God.
- Abraham Kuyper

Have we progressed?

The "quote" phase of my blog now, it appears.


"The test of our progress is not whether we add more to the abundance of those who have much; it is whether we provide enough for those who have too little."
- Franklin D. Roosevelt

A lesson in life

Found this quote from a magazine some time back:

"Intelligence could damage me if thought wasn't experienced with emotion and wit wasn't tempered with compassion."

A Father's love

Earlier today, I was standing next to a family in an MRT train on my way home from work. I noticed that the father kept raising his left hand towards his daughter's face, and she persisted in pushing his hand away. I took a closer look and realised that her face was very close to a backpack carried by another passenger. Her father probably wanted to protect her face from any injury caused by the backpack should the train suddenly jerk or the male passenger lose his footing. His daughter seemed irritated and annoyed by his hand being so close to her face.

This led me to think about the times when God was trying to protect me from harm and I, like the daughter in the train, kept pushing Him away. Only on hindsight did I realise that God had His reasons for putting His hand so close to my face.

Metaphorsmic

I really enjoyed this excerpt from Gogol's St. John's Eve:

My late grandfather's aunt used to say - and you know it's easier for a woman to kiss the devil, meaning no offense, than to call another woman a beauty - that the Cossack girl's plump cheeks were as fresh and bright as the first pink poppy when, having washed itself in God's dew, it glows, spreads its petals, and preens itself before the just-risen sun; that her eyebrows were like the black cords our girls now buy to hang crosses and ducats on from the Muscovites who go peddling with their boxes in our villages, arched evenly as if looking into her bright eyes; that her little mouth, at the sight of which the young men back then licked their lips, seemed to have been created for chanting nightingale songs; that her hair, black as the raven's wing and soft as young flax (at the time our girls did not yet wear braids with bright-coloured ribbons twined in them), fell in curly locks on her gold-embroidered jacket.

Reflection at lunch

"Evening" (G.K. Chesterton)

Here dies another day
During which I have had eyes, ears, hands
And the great world round me;
And with tomorrow begins another,
Why am I allowed two?

My reading journey continues with Orthodoxy by G.K.Chesterton and The Collected Tales of Nikolai Gogol (new translation by Pevear and Volokhonsky).

In Philip Yancey's foreword to Orthodoxy, he referred to this poem, which to me encapsulated Chesterton's gratitude and humility towards Jesus.

It also reminded me to be thankful for every day of my life because every day is a gift from God. I am alive not because I will it so, but because God blesses and preserves my every breath.

A different kind of toon

Fahrenheit 451

I popped into Borders with my nephew today. His parents told him that he could buy only one book, so he went around the children's section diligently, checking out books and gasping at their prices before settling on a book called Small Steps, the sequel to Holes.

As for me, I went around and bought four books: Other Colors (Orhan Pamuk), M is for Magic (Neil Gaiman), An Ode Less Travelled (Stephen Fry), and The Making of a Poem (Mark Strand and Eavan Boland). Recently, I told myself that if I were to step into a bookstore, I could buy only books by authors that I hadn't read before. Unfortunately, this proved harder to carry out than I expected. I already have books of the first three authors listed above.

I came back home too late to get a haircut and so I decided to read Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury. Just finished it and probably finished it too fast. This book was written in 1953, and its message is still as important now as it was then. I think it's best summed up by this saying:

Where they burn books, they will end up burning human beings, too.
- German poet Heinrich Heine

The book has this excerpt which I like a lot because it paints an encouraging picture of humankind:
"But that's the wonderful thing about man; he never gets so discouraged or disgusted that he gives up doing it all over again, because he knows very well it is important and worth the doing."

And of course, given my recent interest in poetry, I was delighted to come across a beautiful old poem, Dover Beach, written in 1867 by Martin Arnold, a part of which was recited by Montag the firefighter in the Bradbury book:

The Sea of Faith
Was once, too, at the full, and round earth's shore
Lay like the folds of a bright girdle furled.
But now I only hear
Its melancholy, long, withdrawing roar,
Retreating, to the breath
Of the night wind, down the vast edges drear
And naked shingles of the world.

Ah, love, let us be true
To one another! for the world, which seems
To lie before us like a land of dreams,
So various, so beautiful, so new,
Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light,
Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain;
And we are here as on a darkling plain
Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,
Where ignorant armies clash by night.

A renewed sensitivity

Poetry does wonders for one's appreciation of a word, a phrase, a sentence.

I just went through an edition of the Economist and was compelled to put these down:

Insouciance

Trenchant

Greenmail

Amateurish theology stokes religious extremism

"The only security of all is a free press," Thomas Jefferson wrote to Lafayette in 1823. "The force of public opinion cannot be resisted when permitted freely to be expressed. The agitation it produces must be submitted to. It is necessary - to keep the waters pure."

來來去去

My poetry entries have been interrupted by entries about friends.

I also met up with another dear old friend (I like very much your description of me as an old friend, thank you) on Sunday.

We ate, walked and talked; it felt so right. We ate Taiwanese beef noodles and drank bubble tea. After that, we walked around, looking for a place to have some dessert. It was a cool night.

The gods were not with us. The cafe at the National Museum seemed closed and the Killiney Kopitiam was also pitch-black. So we went to Zion Road hawker centre. My friend had hot milo and I wanted to have soya bean dessert but, of course, the stall had only chin-chow left. So I resigned myself to drinking hot milo.

My friend was facing the TV screen at the hawker centre and there was a charity event on. Those who sang on the 881 soundtrack appeared. I made a mental note to buy the soundtrack.

We got to talking about many things (life, work, poetry, night, church, God, sin and grace among them), of which my friend said six words about Christianity which I immediately penned down in my black journal.

I always count it pure joy for such rest and company amid the hustle and bustle of the city life. A precious moment.

The coming of Dawn

It's a wonderful feeling when an old treasured friend calls you when she's in town and tries her utmost to arrange to meet you, even though she's got a family in tow, a hundred and one relatives to meet and ten thousand more things to do.

I was overjoyed when I received her call, and she was surprised that I could recognise her voice even though she hadn't called me in years. I replied and said, "Of course, I can recognise your voice!" I was happy just to hear her voice. I wanted to see her kid but I told her that I could settle for handphone shots of him, plus her husband in the background. Ha ha ha! I always like to have digs at her husband because I know he can take them in the right spirit, and he also gives as well as he takes.

She smsed me one to two days later to suggest meeting up for lunch near my new office. So we arranged to meet at 1pm at Far East Square. I told her that I had about 1.5 hours for lunch, give or take a few minutes. We settled on Botan, a Japanese restaurant.

We placed our orders and she showed me photos of her kid. I remembered that there were 41 shots and I saw every single one of them. He's extremely cute!!!!!!! And her husband hadn't changed a bit since the last time I saw them (which says a lot, I think!). She was moaning the fact that all her single friends look the same as they did the last time she caught up with them, while she is not in as good a shape because of her son. I told her that children are a blessing from God, and also her son's very cute and very chubby!!!! He's about 1.5 years old.

We had a very good conversation over lunch. It's quite amazing but it's as if we had seen each other only yesterday because we were pretty at ease with one another. I gave her my update (spiritual life, new job etc), while she updated me on her family life and how they've been doing etc. I think my friends underestimate how much I value spending time alone with them. My smile didn't leave my face during the entire 1.5 hours.

I'm happy to see her and know that she's happy, and I think she feels the same way, too, about me. Lunch went by too fast but when we went our separate ways, I was still happy because I know I will catch up with her many times again in future.

A petal's edge

Light lily lily light light lily light


Imagically
Lightli ly


Outline stones for the wind


All creatures come

To mind to oneness


(Donald Revell)


While reading a book on poetry criticism by Donald Revell, I smsed a friend to tell her that every time I came across a poem, my first instinct was to give voice to the poem. That happened to me once during a crowded MRT ride, and I stopped myself when I suddenly realised that I was talking aloud to myself. Her response was that poetry is about sound.

I was delighted when I came across the poem above by Revell that he had included in the book. He wrote it after he walked to work along a back alley, not looking for anything, but chanced upon tiger lilies all over the place. For me, the sound of the words just hooked me. My gut feeling was happiness - sunlight on flowers.

Yes, my next few blog entries will be on poems from the book. Revell included some fine examples, and I'm almost ready to dash down to the nearest bookstore to get some more poetry/poem collections.

A Poet's Eye

I picked up a book on poetry criticism from Borders recently. The writer is so in love with poetry - very evident from his words. He cited a few poems and among them, this very beautiful love poem by George Herbert:

Love bade me welcome: yet my soul drew back,
Guiltie of dust and sinne.
But quick-ey’d Love, observing me grow slack
From my first entrance in,
Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning,
If I lack’d any thing.

A guest, I answer’d, worthy to be here:
Love said, You shall be he.
I the unkinde, ungratefull? Ah my deare,
I cannot look on thee.
Love took my hand, and smiling did reply,
Who made the eyes but I?

Truth Lord, but I have marr’d them: let my shame
Go where it doth deserve.
And know you not, sayes Love, who bore the blame?
My deare, then I will serve.
You must sit down, sayes Love, and taste my meat:
So I did sit and eat.

Midori, welcome to this world!

Lily gave birth to Midori Pia on
Oct 11, 2007 at 6.08pm.
Midori weighed 3146g at a body height of 47cm.
Lily and Stephan, congrats!!!
Children are a blessing from God.
Your lives will never be the same again,
and definitely for the better!
Whoopee!!!!!

Stone in the bosom

After the badminton session today, I attended the 4pm church service and then met my church friend (and former colleague) K for dinner. I had not met her since I quit from my job four weeks ago. So it was nice to just meet up with her and catch up on what's been happening in her life.

We both like Japanese food so I suggested Kuriya and told her that it was my treat. She drove us to the branch at Great World City and we ordered the kaiseki meal for October. She frequents that outlet regularly because the kaiseki menu changes every month. We spent a good two to three hours there, just eating and talking.


I took back the one-sheeter describing the menu so that I could list the items down here:

Appetizer
- Boiled mushroom in chrysanthemum
- Oyster boiled down with soy sauce
- Braised ivory shell
- Duck with grain mustard
- Conger eel rolled with burdock

Sashimi
- Amberjack, tuna, flat fish

Grilled
- Grilled asparagus rolled with beef
- Grilled king crab with miso paste

Refreshment
- Angler fish dressed with citrus vinegar sauce

Deep fried and braised
- Deep fried fish ball with grated lotus root served with minced prawn ankake sauce

Main course
- Salmon roe, king crab, minced tuna belly on rice served with soup

Dessert of the day


I told my friend that I'm hooked and that I'll probably go back there once a month from now on for the kaiseki special. :-)

Yesterday once more

I have been playing badminton for the past four weeks, on every Saturday at Delta Sports Complex. When I'm on the court, I feel like a kid again. I'm enjoying every moment, and my face shows it because I'm smiling all the way regardless of whether I win or lose. The feeling of playing just for the joy of playing, and not having the pressure and stress of winning every point at all cost, is simply divine. I could play for six hours on a badminton court but wouldn't last 15 minutes on the track.

I played competitive badminton from when I was in secondary one all the way to university level. My school days were confined to studying and training. My schedule was court training on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays and physical+ court training on Saturdays. In between, there would be school competitions as well as overseas competitions.

The places where you would find me would be my home, my school, the badminton courts in my school or at the Singapore Badminton Hall in Guillemard Road or at Delta Sports Complex (yep, I'm back there again).

I led a very regimented and disciplined life - no drinking, no smoking, no late nights and no partying. But I loved it because my coaches and my team-mates were fabulous and I wouldn't have wished it any other way. I always thank God for those times because they helped mould me into the person I am today.

I haven't played badminton since I graduated from university in 1994. Two years ago, I played my first badminton game and I tore my right Achilles tendon there and then. I didn't feel any pain at all but my ankle was swinging freely and kind of detached from the rest of my leg. I put on an ankle guard and my friend quickly drove me to Tan Tock Seng Hospital because that was the nearest hospital.

When we reached the hospital, however, I asked my friend whether we could have some food first because I was hungry. So we had lunch at the Peranakan food place at Novena before going to Tan Tock Seng for treatment. In hospital, I also had to call one of my colleagues to say that I couldn't make it for a play that I was supposed to watch that night, and to ask her to come and collect the tickets from me at the hospital.

I had surgery and was in crutches for three months. My surgeon said that I would have no problems playing badminton again but he added that when he operated on me, my right tendon was in as bad a shape as that of a 60-year-old grandmother. He warned me that my left tendon would go the same way and rupture if I didn't do anything to strengthen it. Obviously my many years of playing competitive badminton have taken a toil on my physical body. My GP, however, said that this was the end of the road for me as well as physically demanding sports was concerned, saying that I should stick to cycling and swimming and avoid tennis, badminton and squash. I took my surgeon at his word.

Four weeks ago, I started playing badminton again. I'm more careful this time around. I warm up quite thoroughly before I start playing and I warm down after the session is over. So far it has been okay but I check my tendons after the end of every session. Today, I slightly twisted my ankle but it should be okay. My strokes are still not fully there, I'm missing the hit zones in terms of accuracy, and my smash is pretty weak because my right shoulder hurts whenever I try a hard smash. But I'm happy because I'm again playing a game that I love a lot. :-)

I'm thankful to God that in my new job, I get to walk quite a bit every day because I've to walk to the bus-stop, walk from the MRT station to my office, walk out for lunch, walk from my office to the MRT station and then from the bus-stop to my home every day. This definitely does help strengthen my legs and my tendons.

I hope that by the end of the year, I would be able to play at the level that I think I should be playing.

It is a nice feeling to be back at Delta Sports Complex and ever so often, I look around at the hall and I think about my coaches and all my team-mates that I had throughout the years, and I pray and hope that wherever they are, they're living life in their own way, in a way they want it to be lived, and that they are happy, contented and loved. Amen.

Beam me up, Scotty

Over the past two weeks, I found myself trying out all possible bus+MRT routes to my new workplace in Raffles Place. These options included the following:


1. Take bus 190 down to Orchard, and take the MRT from Orchard MRT station to Raffles Place MRT station.
Travelling time: 1 hour
Complications: I've to be at the bus-stop before 7.30am so that I can reach my office at 8.30am. If I take bus 190 after 7.30am, I huff and puff my way into the office 15 minutes late, at 9.15am.


2. Take bus 190 to Choa Chu Kang MRT station and take the north-south line all the way to Raffles Place station.
Travelling time: 1.5 hours


3. Take bus 190 to Choa Chu Kang MRT station, and then change at Jurong East station and take the east-west line to Raffles Place.
Travelling time: 45 minutes
Complications: Packed sardines, enough said.


Option 3 is the winner. I've also explored different ways to returning home from the office. (Yes, the Hokkien phrase "bo liao" comes into mind.)


Tip of the day: When it's past 7pm on a week day (excluding Fridays), the fastest way to get from Raffles Place to anywhere else is to take the MRT to Newton station and hop into a cab from there. It worked for me on three different days.

My little piece of Heaven

I like my new office because it has a cosy feeling. At our level, there's also an outdoor balcony, which one can use for a private call or to feel some warmth from the sun. That is my little piece of heaven, because when I'm not meeting people for lunch, I will sit in a chair there and read a book, with a cool drink in hand. So far, thankfully, I haven't had any bird's droppings on my hair.

There is a time for everything

Change is strange and disconcerting. It can make one extremely happy and excited but yet cause one to have fear, anxiety and worries. I recently went through a bout of drastic change in my life: it was extremely stressful for me but at the same time highly liberating.

I had been in my first job for the past 13 years, and my company and my bosses had treated me well. Recently, however, I had the nagging feeling that I was reaching a plateau in my work and that I wasn't as challenged in my job as I had been previously. I did a stock-take of my career. I asked myself whether I could see myself continuing to do the same kind of work, day in and day out, for the next 10 to 15 years. My heart's response was no, and my mind's response was no.

I prayed to God about it, and I asked God for an open door if He wanted me to move on to a different stage of my life journey.

God was faithful and He responded in such a speedy manner that I'm still reeling from the impact. About one to two months back, I was on the phone with a friend and we were discussing careers, God, and purpose in life. I told her about the kind of job that I would like to try next and she then told me about an opening in my current company, through a mutual friend. These two friends would prove integral in my moving on to a new path in my life, and I really thank God for them and their part in it.

Cutting to the chase, I went for my job interview. Following that, I sat for a written test and then I met my boss and two other colleagues at another session. I was offered a position, which I accepted. Before my first interview, I had prayed to God and told Him that if He felt that it was the right time for me to move on, I had faith that He would clear all obstacles in my path. I thank God, and give Him all the glory, the honour and the praise because He has my life in His hands and He's in total control.

That time was a terrible period for me because I couldn't confide in any of my colleagues, especially one whom I was very close to. At the same time, I was also going for interviews and turning up for work after that - this was extremely tiring for me.

Strangely enough, I didn't struggle with whether I should quit but rather with when I should tell my bosses and my close colleagues about my decision.

I dropped some broad hints but when I handed in my notice and the news got around, the reaction was one of shock because I had never given any indication that I was unhappy or that I would leave. Many had assumed that I was going to be there for the rest of my working life. After I handed in my letter, I was at work for only two weeks before I went over to my new company.

This was how fast God moved in response to my prayer.

The stress, however, led to me mixing up the bags of personal items that I took back from my old office (13 years' worth) and the bags of things I had bought during my trip to Washington D.C. Till now, I am still searching for some gifts that I had bought for my friends. I was also apprehensive about the fact that I was going into a new job that required me to not only edit but also write content and into a completely different industry. I had to pick up a lot of new things very fast. I prayed to God and asked Him to enable me to have a humble and teachable spirit so that I would be able to learn things faster in my new job. (My new colleagues have been wonderful, helping me along every day and telling me not to stress myself out.) One coping mechanism was that I wrote down everything that I needed to remember in my job. I told my new colleagues that I was a visual learner - I remembered things better if I wrote them down.

I also dropped off the face of the earth and was incommunicado. I didn't meet up with my friends, sms, e-mail or even blog. My consciousness also totally blocked off the fact that I had a church commitment which required me to turn up for sessions every Monday of the month apart from the first Monday. My supervisor called me up and sounded very exasperated because I had not even contacted her to explain to her what was going in my life and why I was missing all those sessions. I tried explaining to her but I couldn't really say why I totally forgot about those sessions; I also felt that I was quite irresponsible so I apologised.

Along with the stress, however, came tremendous relief that I had settled the move and now I was into a new phase of my life.

I have already been in my new job for about three weeks, and it has been immensely liberating. Previously, I was working every day from 4pm till about 1am, and I found myself struggling to juggle certain areas of my life - like having time for my family, my friends and also time for God. As well, I invariably had to work every Sunday because I needed Mondays off for that church commitment. Now I work from 9am to 6.30pm on weekdays, and my weekends are free. This means that I have now more time to meet up with friends over weekends and I get to have dinner with my parents on weekday nights. Previously, I would have been up till around 6am before I went to bed and this had a draining effect on me physically. Now, I sleep around 11pm and I get up by 7am before going to work, and I feel that my body has been the better for it. Previously, I could never ever meet up with my friends on weekday nights, especially on Friday nights, because of my working hours. Now, I can arrange for dinner appointments on any weekday night. Previously, I would do my quiet time and blog about it from 2am to 4am daily. Now, I do my reading (of the bible or a book) during lunch-time in an outdoor balcony in my office, with a cool drink in hand. I haven't had the time to blog yet except for today, but I expect that my blogging will again be a regular feature of my life once I'm more settled at my new workplace. My blogging is an extension of my quiet time because I blog about the verses I read and study during my quiet time.

I was also very excited by the challenges in my new job. One stops learning and one's creativity dies if one's mind is not constantly challenged or stretched. New experiences add new feelings, new sensations, new ideas, new passion and above all, new layers to one's life. As well, I was always very encouraging to people when they quit; I told them that it was good to get out of one's comfort zone. Well, I myself now have stepped out of the boat, and with God's grace, I have faith that I will walk on water.


My quality of life has improved by leaps and bounds since I started work in my new company. As a friend said: "You're finally getting your life back!" Yes, a big amen to that. I still owe my two key friends a big and well-deserved dinner treat.

School of cool

I had a broad smile on my face on Sept 13 when I picked up my papers and saw that one of my dear friends, Quiet Notes, was on the cover of Life!, along with other home-grown and foreign talents who will be heading up the School of the Arts.

When I spoke to her, her comment was that some of her relatives had said she looked like she had put on weight because her face looked rounder in that cover photograph. She turned to me and asked, do you think so, too? I laughed because I can't lie very well (and I shouldn't lie as well) and so I said I agreed. But then I told her that photographs and the screen tend to add at least 10% of surface area to people's faces, and so she shouldn't worry too much about that.

I'm excited for her because she's excited about being one of the pioneering people driving the curriculum of the new school, which has as its mission the nurturing of youths talented in the arts, with the vision to groom the next generation of artists, creative professionals and individuals who are passionate for, and committed to the arts in Singapore. The school opens next year and offers a connected arts and academic curriculum for youths from 13 to 18 years old.

I told her that I had read the article and checked out the other faculty members, and that they all seemed to be extremely talented and very unique individuals. Above all, they have the passion and love for the arts and that counts for everything when it comes to nurturing young minds and growing young hearts.

Washington D.C. through my eyes (XXIII)

The biggest surprise in the National Museum of the American Indian was a section on the impact of the Gospel on the native Americans. It was not easy reading for me as a Christian, however, because in some areas, the native Americans were forcibly made to drop their traditional and tribal practices and accept the church and convert to Christianity. Our docent is Catholic.

Washington D.C. through my eyes (XXII)

Creation Story, 2001
Harry Fonseca
(Maidu, Hawaiian, Portuguese)
Sacramento, California)

In the beginning appeared
Helin Maideh and Turtle
on a raft;
And it was black,
it was dark

For quite some time
They floated around
Then Turtle asked Helin Maideh
For a place to rest.

So Helin Maideh called ko-do-yam-peh
And down came
Ko-do-yam-peh
On a feathered rope,
In the form of the sun;
He landed n the raft

And Ko-do-yam-peh told Turtle,
"If you want to rest,
You have to work for it."
So he took Turtle,
Put Turtle
In an endless sea.

Turtle dove down
Was gone for four days,
four years,
four hundred years -
Time isn't that important.

Anyway, Turtle returned
More dead than alive.
So, Ko-do-yam-peh took mud
From under Turtle's paw, he took mud,
Rolled it into a little ball
And placed it on the water.

It grew to become the world,
Once the world was created,
Ko-do-yam-peh created
the animals and the plants,
The streams and rivers
And the mountain ranges.

And then he created the first two people.
And, he gave them the gifts of fire,
The first bath,
The Kum,
And the changing seasons

At first there was order,
But after some time,
Chaos returned to the people.

Hummingbird was told
"Fly to the north
and bring back
Hai-kut-wo-tu-peh and Wo-non-meh."

Hummingbird returned
Telling how to prepare
For the visit
Of these two old men.

"Gather silently
In the Kum
With no light
That they should not be seen."

The two old men
Descended,
Through the smoke hole
On the Kum.
They talked to us.

Then two young boys
Threw pitch on the fire
And the fire flared
Exposing their bodies.

Wo-non-meh's flesh was
All edible animals,
And Hai-kut-wo-tu-peh's
All edible plants.

When the fire burned low,
The teaching began:
"Limit chaos and
Cultivate order:
By singing, dancing, and
Talking to each other.

Realise life is short,
Respect your elders,
And recognise that death,
is part of living."

When the two old men left,
The two young boys
Fell over dead.
And a rain of fire,
Destroyed almost all.

Except a few
Who followed
The old men's teachings
And life was good.

Over time, chaos returned
Returns.
And the lessons proved true,
Are true.



Story told by Henry Azbill, 2002
and put to verse by Judy Allison.

Washington D.C. through my eyes (XXI)

The National Museum of American Indian's Identity by Design exhibition also featured leggings and moccasins. Modesty is still an important virtue among native American women.

Cheyenne leggings and moccasins, ca.1890
Probably Montana or Oklahoma

Shoshone leggings and moccasins, ca.1910
Idaho

Nez Perce moccasins, ca.1900
Idaho

Blackfoot moccasins, ca.1910
Canada

Assiniboine leggings and moccasins, ca.1890
Probably Montana


More dresses below (you may catch a familiar symbol that's very close to my heart)

Washington D.C. through my eyes (XX)

The National Museum of American Indian had this changing exhibition called Identity by Design - tradition, change and celebration in native women's dresses. I love colour, patterns and materials so this exhibition was a perfect fit for me.

Such exhibitions reaffirm my wonder in the creative ability of mankind, and my belief in the existence of God who created us in such a wonderful and beautiful manner, with tenderness and love.

These carriers (above) are used by native American women to carry their kids when they are doing their house chores or working at home. Our docent told us that these carriers were still being used even today in the various tribes. He also explained that because the carriers had a flat back, those who were carried in them grew up with their backs of their heads being also flat. He said he was one of them. In Singapore, these carriers would be equivalent to the sarong beds suspended in air that we slept in while we were young. These exquisite carriers are all hand-made.

The dresses below are examples of the traditional dresses worn by native Americans. Our docent (I forgot his name) said that many of the most beautiful dresses are not on display because when native American women die, they are buried in their most beautiful traditional dresses.

The dress above is worth a mention because it's actually a contemporary dress made by Dora Old Elk from the Assiniboine tribe in Montana, who happens to be a good friend of the docent. I like the colours.

Sentosa outing with my nephew Justin

Washington D.C. through my eyes (XIX)

National Museum of the American Indian: This relatively small museum was a delight for the eyes right from the outset.

The museum building itself - draped in Kasota stone - is a marvellous piece of work, designed by Douglas Cardinal (Blackfoot) and a team of Native architects and consultants—including Johnpaul Jones (Cherokee/Choctaw) and artist/designer Ramona Sakiestewa (Hopi).

Its beautiful exterior led me to touch it, feel it and run my hands along the surface. You know when you're standing somewhere and you feel like there's no way you could ever exchange that moment for any moment else? I felt like that. The design was exactly right for a Native American museum. The interior is equally impressive.

I actually went to the museum twice because I didn't have enough time the first time around to even enter the museum; the first time, SL and I had lunch at the cafe and after that, I had time only to go to the gift shop.

I highly recommend the museum cafe because it features some menu double-takers like buffalo chilli and eel with walnut salad. I wished I had a bigger stomach because I would have tried everything there. Sigh...

The museum's permanent and changing exhibitions are curated by Native Americans, which is commendable because this ensures that their stories and their lives are told by their people. The museum docents are also Native Americans.

The docent who led the free guided tour that I was on was from the Lakota tribe, so his tribe is mainly from North and South Dakota. He left a deep impression on me because of the way he spoke about his people: his pride was evident.

He was disgusted by the Disney movie Pocahontas because he said it gave a false image of his people - for example, in the movie Pocahontas was scantily clad; the Native American woman prides herself on modesty and thus is well covered from head to toe. He has a master's in anthropology and is a teacher.

When I heard him talking about his people, I just had this thought: Am I just as proud and passionate about the fact that I'm a Singaporean, and do I know a lot about my heritage and my people's history and my country? Well, for me, I'm proud and passionate about being a Singaporean but I have to admit that I'm not very clued in to the rest.

When I was there, the museum had this changing exhibition called Identity by Design - tradition, change and celebration in native women's dresses. I'm fascinated by patterns and colours so this exhibition was an eye-opener for me. I'll post about this in my next entry.