When I was 10: New neighbours

That year was a year of significant change in my life. I not only moved schools that year but my family also moved houses. New houses meant new neighbours. Our left door neighbour had a daughter who was coincidentally the same age as me. We coincidentally went to the same school and was supposed to be in the same class that year (that is till I moved schools that year).

I clearly remembered my first encounter with her. I was playing in our house compound, running barefoot with mud between my toes when I saw her over the fence. My parents nudged me to say hi. I went over and we introduced ourselves.She said her name was Yvonne. She then invited me over to her house to play. I told her, I'll ask permission first. My mum said I shouldn't go over because I was muddy and dirty. She suggested that I invited her over to our backyard instead. She declined the invite. Perhaps she didn't quite like the outdoors or perhaps because I declined hers first. I still do not know.

But that was my first and last encounter with her. I never really saw her again after that. I heard that she became a doctor.

When I was 10: the pork buns

My tummy was grumbling. It was recess time and I removed the lid off my lunchbox. I was excited because everyday a different food item was packed for me. Today, two white fluffy buns stared back at me. Char siew bao (roasted pork bun) - one of my favourite snacks in the world. The pork meat was succulent and coated with a dark sweet and salty sauce. There was a slice crunch from the condiments. And the bread was soft like fairy floss. As I about to grab one, a friend peered into my container and quickly shot a look at me. Her eyes were wide open, like I had a broken human finger in there or something.

"You can't eat cha siew bao in school. You cannot eat them in front of Muslims," she said.

That revelation was completely new to me. I never knew Muslims could not eat pork. I was not told in my old school. My family certainly didn't warn me. Did they even know? If they knew, why would they pack pork buns in my lunchbox then?  I was extremely embarrassed and pushed it aside. I can't seem to recall whether I actually ate the buns that morning or suffered through my hunger.

In my old school, we had only a few Muslim kids and one Muslim teacher in my year. Because Muslims were such a small minority, most of us were oblivious to the Muslim rules and practices.

One other time, I undid my bottle cap to drink water in class. As I swallowed down my first few sips, a Malay girl, who had short curly hair and round silver glasses, sitting right behind me told me, "You're so rude. You shouldn't drink water in front of Malays (who are Muslims) during Puasa (fasting) period."

I was in disbelief and shocked. I didn't even know what Puasa meant. I think I went home that day asking my parents what Puasa was and why couldn't I drink water in front of them.  My parents explained the situation and that day was the last time I performed that "rude" act.

When I was 4: Honey stars

I am able to recall many moments of my early childhood. I always assumed that this was a normal phenomenon, only to realise that many don't recall much of their early years. I don't believe that I have a special ability or memory. I'm able to because every so often, when I'm unable to fall into the slumbers of sleep, I play a game with myself - I force myself to recall memories of my life, starting from my earliest memories. I believe that earliest memory I can recall is probably when I was 18 months old. So I'm starting a new series on my blog called: "when I was".

I've always been called butterfingers since I was young. I guess I deserved that title. Meal after meal, I'll tell myself, "Don't drop it. For once, don't drop it." But it always happened. I always spilled my rice, milk, cereal, you name it. Once, I was eating a bowl of cereals. I don't remember the name of the cereal. But it was golden in colour, shaped like stars and tasted sweet, like it was coated with honey. (Perhaps it was called, honey stars?) I remember it being yummy and I was in euphoria. But my euphoria moment didn't last long, before I knew it, I was sent into the fast-speed elevator and descended back onto earth. I had dropped the entire bowl of honey stars cereal. Unlike Van Gogh who painted the sky with stars above Cafe Terrace, I painted the carpet of the apartment with my stars.

O no. Big blunder. I would be scolded for sure. Lucky for me, being a lactose-intolerant baby, the cereal was dry. Otherwise, I might not be here to write this entry. Anyway, having grown a long white beard, I twirled it with my right index finger and in my infinite wisdom, came up with a brilliant thought, "I shall hide the cereal under the beanbag. No one would know. After all, it could have been anybody in this household."

So I did just that. I dragged the beanbag across the hallway and placed it on top the evidence. Problem solved.

A few days later, my mum discovered the evidence. "Who did this?" she asked. I kept quiet. After all, my brilliant coverup had no loopholes in it.

Little did I know, I was the only one in the household who ate honey stars.

When I was 4: Ribena

I am able to recall many moments of my early childhood. I always assumed that this was a normal phenomenon, only to realise that many don't recall much of their early years. I don't believe that I have a special ability or memory. I'm able to because every so often, when I'm unable to fall into the slumbers of sleep, I play a game with myself - I force myself to recall memories of my life, starting from my earliest memories. I believe that earliest memory I can recall is probably when I was 18 months old. So I'm starting a new series on my blog called: "when I was".

I've always loved cooking and having high teas from a very young age. But tea wasn't tea when you were 4. 4 year old children sip air from plastic cups and cooked plastic pasta on stoves without heat. Still, it was fun all the same.

I was having one of usual play dates with my father, cooking and eating plastic food with plastic cutlery on plastic pans and plates.

"Can I have ribena please?" I asked my dad.

"Sure. Here you go!" he said as he handed me over a purple cup.

"hahaha!" I laughed and squealed. "No, I mean the real ribena!" I said.

"It's real ribena!" he said as he continued holding out the cup.

"No, no, no!" I laughed till my sides hurt because the 4 year old me found it hilarious that I couldn't quite explain what real ribena was.

It is weird that I'll still find it funny today? =)

When I was 4: Life

I am able to recall many moments of my early childhood. I always assumed that this was a normal phenomenon, only to realise that many don't recall much of their early years. I don't believe that I have a special ability or memory. I'm able to because every so often, when I'm unable to fall into the slumbers of sleep, I play a game with myself - I force myself to recall memories of my life, starting from my earliest memories. I believe that earliest memory I can recall is probably when I was 18 months old. So I'm starting a new series on my blog called: "when I was".

My first brush with death was my dead fish that jumped to its death from an ice cream container. Earlier that night, my family and I were dining at our usual Chinese restaurant. We were usual patrons there and I remember that we always received a warm reception from the staff there. I guess the head waiter/manager must have liked me or perhaps, it was a seasonal gift, but I was presented with a tiny fish in a tied up plastic bag. It was my first "pet". That night, we (or rather one of my parents) untied the bag and placed the fish in an empty ice cream container. Later, before bedtime, I went to check on my pet fish but found it lying limp on the carpeted floor. It must have jumped out, my dad said.

When I was 18 months old

I am able to recall many moments of my early childhood. I always assumed that this was a normal phenomenon, only to realise that many don't recall much of their early years. I don't believe that I have a special ability or memory. I'm able to because every so often, when I'm unable to fall into the slumbers of sleep, I play a game with myself - I force myself to recall memories of my life, starting from my earliest memories. I believe that earliest memory I can recall is probably when I was 18 months old. So I'm starting a new series on my blog called: "when I was".

I don't recall too much of my 1.5 year life. I have only two mental snapshots of that period in my short life. The first snapshot was in Mt Buller, Victoria, Australia. My extended family were up in the mountains for a ski trip. I was obviously too young to ski. All I remember was the dark sky with heavy snow. I remember it being cold and gloomy, with a wooden signboard in front of me. We must be standing in front of a restaurant or a hotel.

My second memory is being in Singapore. I remember being on an escalator in a shopping centre in Singapore. I remember that my parents had bought a large Mercedes toy car for me, one that I could sit in and pretend I was legal to drive. It came equipped with batteries and pedals. All I can recall was my dad carrying the car (probably in the toy box) and the long escalator ride. Sometimes, when I'm gallivanting the shopping paradise island, I still find myself looking around, hoping for something to "click", to see whether I can recall the exact shopping center we were in, the long escalator engrained in my memory.