When the artist's daughter text-messaged me to invite me, I did not reply. That's the beauty of text-messaging. Impersonal. No loss of face for either party should the outcome turns out unfavourable.
However, on the afternoon of New Year's Eve, the lady phoned me personally: "My father invites you to celebrate the end of 2009. He invites a small group of close friends. Please come."
When the artist made a personal call, I obliged as I had met her father who is as old as I am. The father is a good artist, but we cannot make long conversations as his command of English is limited and I cannot speak one word of the Myanmar language. When an interpreter like my friend, Khin Khin was present, the father and I could carry on a longer conversation about the business of art. Though Khin Khin was invited, she did not go as she had another New Year's Party to attend.
I had to make an extra effort to engage in conversation with a culture so much different from mine. A Singapore artist sat next to me as I sipped my small glass of Irish liqueur with cream. I had brought along a Jack Daniel bottle and my host opened it to share this sweet potent coffee liqueur with everybody.
I tried to make small talk with this Singapore artist on a common topic. With artists, I would talk about his art and the business of art. He was not in the mood for an engaging conversation unfortunately for me and left for another table.
Then 3 Myanmar men in their 30s arrived and sat on my deserted table. Were they artists? They did not look like one although how do male artists look? Is there a stereotype. Maybe, a man with pony-tailed long hair. One who wears a flowery shirt and flashy ear stud on the left ear?
The 3 men were wearing T-shirts and in their 30s. Their leader was Charlie, a tall slim man of fair complexion. He elaborated on his job and said, "I drive Prime Movers." I did not know exactly what a Prime Mover was. I figured it was a gigantic vehicle that has a long back to hold containers. It would haul a container and truck it within a port terminal. Containers are big metallic boxes than store a lot of goods for transport from one country to another. That much I knew.
Another man was thin and looked sun-burnt. He was called Moe. The third man was slightly plumpish. All worked as prime mover drivers in the Maritime and Port Authority of Singapore (MPA) and could converse in English. This was a rare opportunity for me to meet the foot soldiers of the MPA as I have had never met this profession in my 60 years of living.
Now, how to engage them in conversation till the clock struck 12 midnight? How much there is to talk about the job of being a Prime Mover Driver? These men could talk on various topics.
Moe smoked furiously. Charlie said, "Moe loves cooking. He is an excellent cooker." I did not correct his use of the word "cooker" as that would spoil the mood of the meeting and would be impolite. After all, I am not the spokesman and enforcer of the "Speak Good English" Movement of Singapore.
Charlie meant "cook." He continued, "Moe cooks well. He sold Thai curry to the workers in the block of flats we live but he was ordered to stop doing it."
"Why?" I asked, thinking that Moe was entrepreneurial. He would just sell a few packets at $1.00 each to make some money. After all, the employer had not increased his salary over the last few years especially in 2009 which is a year of severe recession.
"Moe sold over 100 packets and the canteen operator complained to his employers," Charlie laughed at Moe's expense. "He is not supposed to make money in his employment contract."
"The canteen operator had to stifle competition as he had to pay rent while Moe has had under-priced him," I said. "Why don't you sell the Thai Curry to the betel nut operator in Peninsula Plaza when you are not working?" I asked Moe. "You work 3 days for 12 hours per day and then you have the next 2 days off work."
"He may get complaints and lose his job," Charlie said.
"How about selling betel leaves to Peninsula Plaza?" I asked. "It seems to me that the operator was doing a good business during weekends when Myanmar workers come to buy the betel leaves smeared with a white cream and then wrapped around some nuts."
"There are many betel-leaf plants in Singapore," Charlie said. "Moe told me that there is one in Holland Road area." I asked, "Can he pluck the leaves and sell them to the operator at Peninsula Plaza?"
The hobbyist cook shook his head. "The Singapore policeman will catch me plucking. I will be jailed and lose my job."
In Singapore, the increasing costs of living and the reduction in working hours during this period of recession affected people like Charlie and Moe most. Charlie switched to another topic which I believe is a common problem in employment agencies.
Charlie asked me, "Is there a way to help Myanmar workers who pay a fee $3,000 to employment agents to get back their money when they lose their job soon after employment? They borrow money to come to Singapore to find work and when they are sacked soon after employment, they lose a lot of money."
"I don't think that the Singapore Government would be able to help," I said. This is a free market and the government is not involved in a private employment agency business. If the employment agent and the employer collude to make money out of the prospective worker by employing and then sacking the worker, it is hard to prove and it is very costly." There is no organised voluntary organisation to help such Myanmar workers from predatory employment agencies.
"It may be best for your friends to go to a big and reputable employment agency in Yangon," I mentioned the name of a famous agency in Yangon. "How did you get your job?" I asked. Charlie said, " I was recruited on a G to G (Government to Government). I paid 4 months my salary as agent's commission". Charlie earned around $550 per month.
Predatory businessmen are common in this world. The bigger the corporation, the more ferocious their appetite in pressing down service providers' fees. The Main Contractor would get the job. He would delay payment for several months to subcontractors. If they complain, they don't get any more jobs. I know of one main contractor who under-priced his garbage collection tender to get the contract. An art gallery owner with money would buy good artwork at distress sale prices knowing that the unknown artist needs money to survive as passion without sales cannot feed the family and the artist.
In this New Year party, I had a glimpse into the world of the port workers who seem to have no future unless they get a driving licence for Category 4. Charlie said, "I failed the driving test 3 times. The tester was not kind to me. In my first test, I did not look at the mirror before driving off. In another test, I sped up when the traffic light was still green but stopped immediately when the light was red. The tester failed me. Every test cost me more than $300." His English was good and if he had a Myanmar degree, he would be earning twice as much.
In any case, if he passes the Class 4 Driving Test, he could drive another type of prime mover and earn more with less fatigue. "The Class 4 Prime Mover has a simple job. From Point A to Point B to unload containers," he said to me banging his two fists against the sides of his head. "The job pays twice as much without the headache." I presume his present job was very tiring and cause physical exertion.
I had never entered the PSA but I could not imagine the hard labour and physical exertion involved.
Soon, it was time for the artist's daughter to open the bottle of champagne to wish everybody a "Happy New Year". We were dining on the roof top terrace. Charlie pointed to the full moon in the sky. "There is a rainbow to the left of the moon," he told us. The moon was very bright in this black sky with few stars, as if a big torch had been shone onto it. Yes, there was a ring bow to the left. There were two rainbows. Was there any significance in astronomy? I don't know and did not think much about it. Science would explain the formation of rainbows after a shower. But rainbows on a moon-light night? I am sure there will be scientific explanations unlike the encounter my friend, Khin Khin told me about in her New Year party.
Khin Khin affirmed, "As the hostess cut the cake to end the year of 2009, blood droplets appeared from her forehead and on top of both her hands. She continued cutting the cake and gave a piece to all present."
"You really witness this?" I asked her again when I met her at Ridgewood Condo on January 3, 2010. Khin Khin managed this condo rental and sometimes I accompanied her to this place and sometimes I do meet some of her interesting tenants. These tenants live in a world so much different from my little veterinary world of dogs and cats.
"Yes," Khin Khin was positive. "I saw the blood streaking down from the hostess' forehead and appearing like the dot you see on the forehead of Indians."
"Like a big red dot of paint in the middle of the forehead?" I don't remember what name it is but the Indian culture does have ladies practising this method.
"Where did the blood come from?" I asked another person who had attended this party. "Was it from the large cake? Was it real blood?" The other person confirmed the phenomenon and did not know what to make of it. What was the significance of this phenomenon.
"The blood comes from the thin air," I speculated.
"No," Khin Khin said. "My husband said it comes from the vein."
Khin Khin's husband is a Myanmar veterinarian and his version had a scientific backing unlike my statement. Blood oozes out from the capillaries via the veins and appear on the forehead and hands. Yes, this is scientific. How could blood appear from thin air?
This was Khin Khin's incredible but true story. It sounded like an episode in a science fantasy like the Avatar movie. A person can be in two places at the same time. An avatar. A fantasy rather than a phenomenon.
Double rainbows to the left of a brightly lit moon. Blood appearing on a person. That sounds like a cock and bull story. However, I do not dispute the credibility of Khin Khin's story as she is a no-nonsense plain-speaking lady and her husband and two other guests had witnessed the event.
Will there be more phenomena to surprise Khin Khin and I in the brand new year? I don't know.
P.SPhenomenon: An appearance: anything visible; whatever, in spirit or matter, is apparent to, or is apprehended by, observation; as, the phenomena of heat, light or electricity; phenomena of imagination or memory. That which strikes one as strange, unusual or unaccountable. An extraordinary or very remarkable person, thing or occurrence.
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