Exploring London

The cheapest and reputedly, the safest way in exploring London, is by bus. At 11 GBP, it covers 6 zones and unlimited transfers for 7 days. That's approximately S$34.40. Certainly more expensive than travelling about in Singapore (which for the same amount, would give me 2 weeks of bus AND train travel), but by far, the best option that I've got, with a shoestring budget. Right outside Kingsley's home there's a bus stop, so it's a lot easier on the legs on a cold evening to walk home from the bus stop than from the Tube stop.

With the elections looming up and a keen fight between Labour, Tories and Liberal Democrats for the seat of Government, bomb threats on the Tube are common, and especially so with the ante raised on the Molotov cocktail of hairy issues such as controlled immigration, healthcare and foreign policy with respect to Iraq.

Staying in East London allowed me to have a glimpse of how diversified London's population is now. Arabs, Somalians, blacks, Algerians, Turks and other ethnic groups tend to stay cheek-by-jowl in South and East London. There apparently is the largest mosque in UK only a few bus stops away from my place of residence. I note that immigrant-owned shops tend to open real late into the evenings. Perhaps, they were like the immigrants of my own country in the early 1900s. Eager to forge a new future for themselves, immigrants did not mind the long hours and low pay that their occupations demanded of them.

How does it feel then, as a minority amongst minorities, being female and Chinese?

I felt very much at home, though a little wary about coming home late in the evenings as these areas are known to be trouble hot spots and muggings and other crimes are rife. I am glad that I am able to claim the Lord's protection upon me, although it helps that you affect an attitude of knowing where you are going and sending a silent signal to others not to mess with you.

Indeed, living in a big city does have its problems. You have immigrants being absorbed all the time, with the local populace perhaps getting a bit nervous about jobs, supporting a swelling lower class and an emerging middle class of immigrants for those who have made it. Comfort zones are being challenged. As a colonial power, Britain is seeing the rise of another power on its very own shores... the power of immigrants changing the face of the UK. Even in far- flung quiet corners of the country, I can always find either a Chinese or Indian-Muslim eatery, which will close late (and often the only take-out food that you can find on Sundays).

Indeed the tide has turned.

The Full English Experience

Hui Min brought me out on what she termed as the English Experience.

You go for a walk in bitterly cold weather (what she termed as good weather was at most 13 degree celsius!).

My green parka did not do very much for me in such cold weather. With the spare time that we had from the camp, Hui Min decided to bring me out on a walk in the surrounding countryside.

It was drizzling and the sheep in the surrounding camp grounds basically just stood there and bleated. They were not even bothered by the cold! My nose was starting to run and I felt a cold wind chilling my bones.

We passed by a decrepit church that had seen better days. Service was over and it was quite empty. The churchyard was full of tumbled down and broken grave stones, which Min shuddered. According to her, it was bad luck for the next generation for their ancestors' gravestones to be broken and untended to.

What shocked me was that while the church was lovely, Min pointed out that many people do not go to church anymore. You could have congregations of 10 persons or less. Some churches, due to falling attendance, would have to close shop. Others, were converted into shops or God forbid! pubs and discos.

It was really horrid.

Our final destination was to end up in a pub for a drink, which according to her, is the final goal of any walk! Much amused, I was bought a drink at the pub and we had fun being filled with the spirit. Of the non-alcoholic kind of course. Afterall, today IS Easter Sunday. :)

The Burning Flame

I did not regret joining the Derbyshire Church camp.

It was a camp that ORTV set up for overseas Chinese based in UK. You could see so many Chinese people gathering together to worship God together in Mandarin.

It was a unique feeling and what amazed me most was that many of them were very new believers, but rooted strongly in the Word and very fervent for the things of God.

While I tried my best to follow the Scripture in Mandarin, I must admit that jet lag got the better of me. It was so embarrassing to be nodding off during service, sermon and benediction.

But I digress. Worshipping with them led me to ask some questions of my own. While Kingsley sees himself as a Chinese and not as a Singaporean and affirms his Chinese identity thoroughly, for me, being a visitor and having always worshipped in an English service, I tend to see myself by my nationality first and foremost.

But truly and surely, Scripture does teach that all tribes of every tongue will worship the Lord God in spirit and in truth, and it is in this spirit that I began to love and respect my fellow brethern from other lands.

Poor Little Rich Girl

Her name is Catherine (pronounced CAR-therine, to distinguish it from Katherine, she said) and she came from a well-to-do family.

She's rather helpful for a young girl. Pleasantly plump with fair features, she offered to let me bunk in with her after I got back to my room to find that the central heating had effectively turned my little room into a steaming sauna, with no way of adjusting the heat.

Together, we tried yanking my room window open, to no avail. The Taiwanese lady living in the next room (whom I shall term as the Pink Flamingo), decided to flee to Tao Shi-mu to complain about the lack of ventilation.

The campsite's night watchman and DM came by and they recoiled from the blast of heat as soon as they opened my door (I took care to shut it after me, so that they could feel the heat when we all got back after making the complaint. This is to show that I was not overexaggerating about how unbearable it was, much as I hated the cold).

While everyone finally got open my door, I pointed out that since my room was on the ground floor, it was certainly insecure for me to stay with a wide open window, seeing that the campsite had other strangers visiting the premises.

Finally, Tao Shi-mu settled the problem by getting an individual room for all of us. This time, a double bed in the newer wing of the campsite. It was ensuite (unlike my old room), had adjustable heaters and best of all, coffee and tea making facilities.

Catherine came over to talk, and over tea and chips, I found out that she had been sent abroad to study hotel management and her dream was to work at the Dubai hotel that resembled a sail boat). She did indeed come from a monied background (parents own a hotel and property business) and she had stayed in some of the finest hotels all over the world (no less than a presidential suite, most of the time). Her remark about "didn't like our previous room as it has no ensuite" made me realise that she is a little pampered.

However, she is unhappy.

She had endured a broken relationship with her boyfriend (who's currently in jail) and found it hard to forget him. She was thinking of staying as an unmarried girl and give herself fully to God.

I'm not so sure about the wisdom of such thinking. It is indeed a very good thing to do, but she being so young, she should instead concentrate on getting to know and serve God in whatever capacity, till she received a very clear signal from Him that she's suited for singlehood.

I think that would be the best course of action for her for the time being. While she's preparing her visa to Switzerland, I do hope that someday, she'll grow strong in her newfound faith.

Beautiful Stranger

I hate flying. Even if it's on Qantas, which happened to be my favorite airline at the moment.

I was stuck, right in the middle seat, in a cross hemisphere flight from Singapore to UK. The flight originated from Sydney, and a whole bunch of Aussie lads, eager to spend Easter hols in springtime London, packed the aisles.

I was stuck next to a very nice Sydneysider girl and an absolutely incontinent Aussie lad who had at least 6 bourbon cokes while seated next to me. The 6 bourb cokes created havoc with his bladder and he had to step over me and the Sydneysider each time to use the loo. I was trying to pack in as much sleep as I could over a 13 hour flight but it was futile. Even the Qantas stewardess had to tell him to watch his limits as he had a drop too much.

Apart from slow queues at immigration @ Heathrow, I managed to lug my bag (with its precious cargo of homemade chilli paste) onto the replacement bus service. It's an advantage that I'm petite and looked very much like a poor student. I seem like a helpless girl unable to carry her suitcase down the stairs (yes, there are no escalators at older Tube stations).

A nice porter came to help me at Hatton Close down the flight of steps. At Bow Street, another helpful fellow (this time a construction worker) smiled and gave me a hand with my case. That really helped.

*****

I don't know his name, but he has the most beautiful pair of eyes that I've ever seen.

Tired though I was, I had to make a trip to meet up with Ben to pass him his chilli and other stuff that the family wants to give him. I was glumly staring at the floor of the train, daydreaming when my eyes fell upon a pair of gleaming shoes. Men's shoes.

I looked up and there was this young man with short brown hair, and lovely eyes that were brown, with hints of gold in them. (I know it sounds rather implausible but really, his eyes looked like that!)

They were the loveliest pair of eyes that I've ever seen. They seemed to convey so much warmth and I never tire of gazing at them. Until I noticed the white cane that he was carrying in his left hand.

He was blind.

A little stunned and not forgetting my manners, I immediately got up to ask if he'd like to take my seat.

He replied in a warm and friendly tone that he's doing fine and will be getting off soon. He obviously does not think his impairment as an impediment and has in fact, worked around it.

I got off the train, thinking that for the infirm, the Tube is really not all-inclusive. With so many flights of stairs, confusing exits etcetra, if you are old, lame, blind, deaf, I wonder how anyone could navigate around the public transport system easily.

My regard for this nameless young man rose. That's my beautiful stranger for the day.

In The Beginning

In the beginning, there was a girl.

Welll.... not quite a girl, certainly a woman. Someone who is on the wrong side of 30, in fact.

She had many ideals and cherished hopes, but after 8 years of working, she was rudely woken up to the sad reality that some of these cherished ideals do work, others ... nah.

Perhaps, in the pursuit of doing what is right or what to her is principled, she received in turn, a few nasty blows and setbacks.

But she never stopped believing in doing what she thinks is right and true, although she feared deeply that she is slowly losing her grip in the morass that was her workplace. Perhaps, what was more detrimental, she feared she was losing her faith in what ought to be right and wrong, her heart was aching, her mind was troubled, her soul, parched.

Until one day, she suffered a grievious personal loss. One that shook her to the core of her being.

She was surprised at the turn of events that followed and the people that she met. How God slowly but surely began to part the curtains of doubt to lead her step by step through the fogs.

For when the fogs and mists lifted up, then could she see what is the path that she had trodden so far. She still did not see clearly what is her path now. But she is now more confident and sure that she will not sit back placidly and take any nonsense or endure any cesspool willingly.

This is her story of what happened during her month-long trip to self-discovery.