Tuesday, November 02, 2004
Martial Law
I've been having spats with the parents recently, to the extent that I'm beginning to feel that coming back may well have been a mistake.
And I haven't even started work proper yet. roll eyes.
I'm not really into washing my dirty linen in public (and in truth i'm rather averse to the whole concept of laundry...) suffice to say that I had a strange upbringing; very sheltered, very cloistered, a strange mix of traditional chinese values (by the neo-oriental mum) but a daily spoken tongue of 100% english (courtesy to the mother's obsession with El-O-Kew-Shun). I spent 24/7 at home thanks to geography (the house is located on an islet of green far insland from civilisation in the middle of a forest of other houses, and trees. it takes 45 min to walk out to the road, at a good pace.) and the iron hand of the parent-patricians.
I remember not being allowed to go out. "It's a waste of time". Nor being allowed to have ECAs, except chess (vote of approval from the father who was a chess player) and badminton (sometimes. when the mother wasn't in the It's Too Dangerous mode.)
Not Wasting Time entailed studying at home. Television and computer were prized commodities only afforded to me when I could discover the latest hiding place of the Key (courtesy of the Mother.).
It was a strange upbringing, devoid of much in the way of human warmth and love, and rather academic. Sometimes we were caned, but considering how few opportunities there were to be bad under the Iron Rule of the Patricians, these times were few and far between.
It's funny how my life under my parents mirrored the Singalanders' relationships to their government, innit.
The first time I rebelled against Dynastic Law was over a girl. Isn't that always the way?
It wasn't such a big deal, it's not like I'd done anything horrific, or even vaguely adult.
Said girl was leaving the country and having a farewell bash. She lived on the other side of the island to me.
Mother : "Don't be silly. Of course you won't go to your friend's farewell. It's a waste of time."
Oh, if only she knew...
Anyhow, I went.
I had to.
And I haven't even started work proper yet. roll eyes.
I'm not really into washing my dirty linen in public (and in truth i'm rather averse to the whole concept of laundry...) suffice to say that I had a strange upbringing; very sheltered, very cloistered, a strange mix of traditional chinese values (by the neo-oriental mum) but a daily spoken tongue of 100% english (courtesy to the mother's obsession with El-O-Kew-Shun). I spent 24/7 at home thanks to geography (the house is located on an islet of green far insland from civilisation in the middle of a forest of other houses, and trees. it takes 45 min to walk out to the road, at a good pace.) and the iron hand of the parent-patricians.
I remember not being allowed to go out. "It's a waste of time". Nor being allowed to have ECAs, except chess (vote of approval from the father who was a chess player) and badminton (sometimes. when the mother wasn't in the It's Too Dangerous mode.)
Not Wasting Time entailed studying at home. Television and computer were prized commodities only afforded to me when I could discover the latest hiding place of the Key (courtesy of the Mother.).
It was a strange upbringing, devoid of much in the way of human warmth and love, and rather academic. Sometimes we were caned, but considering how few opportunities there were to be bad under the Iron Rule of the Patricians, these times were few and far between.
It's funny how my life under my parents mirrored the Singalanders' relationships to their government, innit.
The first time I rebelled against Dynastic Law was over a girl. Isn't that always the way?
It wasn't such a big deal, it's not like I'd done anything horrific, or even vaguely adult.
Said girl was leaving the country and having a farewell bash. She lived on the other side of the island to me.
Mother : "Don't be silly. Of course you won't go to your friend's farewell. It's a waste of time."
Oh, if only she knew...
Anyhow, I went.
I had to.
