To Help, or not To Help

The accident happened the first night we arrived at Sapporo. We were on our way to the hotel after dinner. The bus turned left at green light, three quarter passed the pedestrian crossing, when a drunkard man walked into (literally) the bus, and fell - face down, in a cold winter night.

It was a crowded street. Along the main street were pubs, shopping centres, stores, and people were busy crossing the road. But no one (the locals) stopped and helped. They just walked pass the man lying on the road, gave him a second look, and carried on with their lives.

Of course the accident held us up for nearly 2 hours.

Which reminded me of our investigation on altruism.

According to Latane and Darley, in order for people to reach out to help, we must first notice the incident, interpret it as emergency, assume responsibility, and then we try to help. At each fork of the path, the presence of other bystanders may divert a person down a branch toward not helping.

So there we go - in a big city where it's crowded, we are less likely to assume responsibility - "someone surely will help that man"...

It's probably common in big city, or a cosmopolitan. We have grown so far apart even though physically we are getting closer (imagine Singapore and its 6 millions population in the future).

I am just wondering if such accident happened in Singapore, whether we would reach out and help - by carrying the man to the pavement, calling the police, stepping up as a witness....

Finding Laksa

I am constantly in search for authentic Penang laksa. My friend, who is of Penang origin, and I share notes on which stall sells the best Penang laksa. We started with the food court in China Square. The boss eventually moved to Boon Lay and then to the USA to sell laksa. Then we found one at Joo Chiat, which by far was the most authentic (although the price was a bit steep), but has since folded. We also found one stall at the Aljunied Ave 2 hawker centre, which was a bit salty to our liking, but fairly authentic, other than the "noodle" itself.

However, when I went to taste it again yesterday, somehow it was not the same anymore.

You see, authentic Penang laksa has several "characteristics" - the fish stock must be made with "ikan kembong" (or "ikan batu" as it is called in Singapore), with the fish carefully scrapped so that every spoonful of soup you taste is full of (melted with) minced fish meat. It should come with thick "white noodle" ie the laksa noodle (but can't find it in Singapore). It should come with generous shredded vegetables, pineapple, onions, and most importantly mint leaves.

The laksa I tasted yesterday had chucks of fish in the soup. This means you taste the soup and the fish separately. The vegetables came in, not shredded, but large pieces. And there were two mint leaves.

I think it is difficult to maintain one's tradition and culture when you move to a new place where the environment lacks certain things to help you upkeep your tradition. What we, the immigrants, always do is to assimilate into the new environment - from the way we speak, the things we eat, our mentality, our expectations... so that we can be accepted into the newfound land. If we so decided to stay true to our traditions, then we run the risk of being isolated, or segregated.

Food is like this. Our custom is like this. Can't find the same noodle. So we make do with whatever we have. Don't have time to scrap fish anymore. So we make do with big chucks of fish. To adapt to the locals' taste bud, we make slight changes - a bit sweeter, a bit less sour.

But it is not the same anymore.

Maybe I should open my own stall and sell the authentic Penang laksa. But then again, if I insist on the real thing, maybe my business will go bust very soon.

I Have A Dream

I normally wake up remember my dreams. Rarely as vivid as yesterday's. I actually dreamt that I was giving a speech during a dinner - those sit-down dinner. And I clearly remember my speech.

I talked about how to be a better person, and I raised 4 points:
1. We must be forgiving. There's an old Chinese saying: "be strict on yourself, but be generous toward others".
2. We must be responsible.
3. We must be empathy. Confucious said that (and I am attempting to translate because in my dream, I spoke in Mandarin) for every 3 persons, there would be 1 who can be our "teacher".
4. We must have love.
And I tend to think that these are the 4 principles (I thought it should be the "rules of three") that I live by.

I believe that we have to be forgiving because everyone has a story to tell. For every mistake that one makes, for every act that one does, I tend to believe that there's a reason behind it. I don't honk at drivers who make last minute turn because I think maybe they are unfamiliar with the directions; I don't criticise people who speak with an accent because I once spoke with one... I think we need to be more generous and accommodate difference. Maybe then we would be happier.

I also believe that everyone can be my teacher. The worst boss ever can be my "teacher" because he/she teaches me how NOT to become one such boss; the person who screams at me teaches me the real meaning of being gracious... And if I put myself in another person's shoes, I think I can be even more forgiving.

The funny thing is that, in my dream, several faces where clearly seen. And these were the people I really want to address to in real life, had it been possible.

(I pray for peace throughout the world and the happiness of all humanity.)