A story Lee Kuan Yew told

I cannot recall for sure; but I think he told this story to a bunch of foreign correspondents at an event in Helsinki. Anyway, this story is based on a Chinese idiom; 塞翁失马，安知非福*. This story can be found in The Straits Times Bilingual Collection, Vol 1, page 86, under the title, Fortunes and misfortunes.  

But when I was telling this story to my children when they were young, I titled it, The Story of Sai Weng.

* Sometimes written as 塞翁失马，焉知非福

Long ago, there was an old man who lived at the border. His wife had died more than 10 years ago, leaving him with a son, whom he brought up. The old man had a mare which he took good care of. When the mare became pregnant, he became very busy and happy. He planned to sell the colt when it had grown so he could use the money to get a wife for his son.

               Unfortunately, when the mare was about to deliver, it suddenly disappeared. The old man and his son searched everywhere, but could not find it. The old man was very sad. After some time, however, he was himself again and behaved as if nothing had happened. His neighbours came to comfort him. The old man, moved by their concern, said: “I do appreciate your concern. However, do not vex yourselves over my problem. Although I have lost my horse and cannot afford to have a daughter-in-law now, no one can say for sure if this is good or bad.”

               Several months passed; and on one clear and windy night, the old man heard the familiar neighing of a horse from his bedroom. He hurried out and saw 3 horses coming towards him. When he realized that one of the horses was his very own mare, he shouted for joy. There was also a small horse which apparently was the mare’s offspring. He hastily brought them to his stable. When the neighbours, who had been awakened by the noise, learned what had happened, they came to congratulate him. The old man was extremely happy. After some time, however, his face darkened briefly and sighing, he said calmly; “Let’s not be too happy. This could be a misfortune.” His words caused laughter, and everyone said he was over-suspicious.

               The old man’s son loved the young colt and rode it often. One day, while galloping along a mountain track, he fell and broke his leg. Many surgeons were consulted, but he could not be cured, and eventually became a cripple. The neighbours came to comfort him. After thanking them for their concern, the old man said: “Though my son has become a cripple, there is no need to grieve, for who knows what good may come out of this incident.” The neighbours were puzzled  by what he said.

               One year later, the imperial court decided to wage war against a neighbouring state. All the able-bodied young men were conscripted into the army and most of them never returned from the battle field. The village became deserted and quiet. Only the old man’s son who had been disqualified because of his disability escaped conscription. Thus even in the midst of the chaos of war, he got married and soon had a son. The old man and his family lived in peace and happiness.

            Many people who witnessed this admired and said of the old man: “When the old man of the frontier loses his horse, it may be good fortune; when he gains another horse, it may be a misfortune.”

The End

At the end of every story, there’s a language tip like this. I learned my hanyu pinyi partly from here.

“And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose.” (Romans 8:28)

An unforgettable blind date

Victor’s post about the cinemas of old reminds me of an unforgettable blind date that I had a quarter century ago.

I think the year must have been around 1984. At 32, I was still single and my sister Pat was not happy. Her reputation of being a highly successful one-woman SDU was being tarnished by her uncooperative brother. SDU, in case you do not know, stood for Social Development Unit. It was formed by the government to match-make university graduates. It was the product of the Great Marriage Debate triggered by then prime minister, Lee Kuan Yew during one of his National Day Rally speeches.

My sister was really scary. She still is actually. She doesn’t ask for your permission before she arranges blind dates. She simply gives you the phone number and tells you everything has been arranged; just make the call. Even if you object also she doesn’t care. It was a real torture for me.

Anyway, I spoke to this girl on the phone. For some reason she did not want me to go to her house to fetch her - too far, I may not be familiar with that area etc. As she lived in the northern part of Singapore, we agreed to meet at the Imperial Theatre car park in Upper Thomson Road. I gave her a description of my car. I believe at that time I was driving a Subaru 1600GL which I bought for only $13,000 from an Australian colleague of my brother’s at Citibank. The car had only clocked a mileage of less that 30,000 km.

Map of Upper Thomson in vicinity of Imperial Theatre (From my 1981 Street Directory). Notice the Thomson Village, Kampong San Teng Road, and the Little Sisters of the Poor, which is still there but now has a different name.

At the appointed time, I arrived early and once I got there, I realized that I had inadvertently chosen the perfect place. There was no way she could miss me.

You see, the Imperial Theatre was a small theatre that we used to go to when we stayed at the kampong in Lorong Kinchir off Lorong Chuan. (Read story here). But since we moved out in 1974, we seldom went back there. And so I did not know that in the eighties, Imperial had become an Indian movie theatre.

When my date arrived, one show had just ended and another was about to begin. There I was in the car park, standing next to my car, the only Chinese in a sea of Indians.

A filial daughter - Lam Chun Chew

While my fellow fanatic about old Singapore places, Peter and I do some 'research' for our next post about Bukit Timah, here's a 'grandfather story' from my brother Chun Chew to keep you entertained.


I had an uncle who stayed in Malaysia and got married during the Japanese occupation. His wife bore him seven daughters in a row. After giving birth to the last daughter, my uncle was rather disappointed because he wanted a son very badly, seeking agreement from his Peranakan wife to give away his last daughter to his elder brother, who himself had several kids. His elder brother was quite happy to adopt this lovely baby girl, but my aunt was so distraught missing her child that she could not sleep at night, crying bucketful of tears for her daughter.

Being a forceful lady, she demanded that her husband to take back the baby from his elder brother, who just lived next door. Having seven daughters was not a problem financially, as my uncle was quite a successful businessman. Next year the couple was lucky with the arrival of a son.

Time flew. The kids had all grown up. What happened to the last daughter? She was the brightest of the lot and did very well in her studies. She graduated with flying colours from a top Australian university, got married to a very successful architect from Malaysia, who himself was also a top scholar. Both obtained scholarships to do post graduate studies in the US. Later on when they returned to Malaysia, the husband was involved in planning many large building projects and she herself holding a high position in the private sector. One day I met my uncle in Farrer Court and he told me that this daughter and her husband are very filial to him and his wife. They sponsored my uncle and aunt to visit the US, Europe and many other places, showering them with unconditional love.

This story reflects some core human values. Namely a mother’s intrinsic love for her child who is irreplaceable, an important role a daughter can play in a modern society and the love of ones parents is a moral commitment.

Photo credit.

Thanks to Flickr member cromacom for the use of above photo for illustration purpose.

Lost in translation

Household Name's latest post about some funny stories of bad translation reminds me of this joke.

When President Nixon first visited China, he and the First Lady were introduced to Chairman Mao Tze Tung and his wife.


NIXON: You have a lovely wife.

MAO: 哪里，哪里.

Interpreter: Where, Where?

NIXON (looking puzzled): Eh ... Everywhere

MAO: (looking shocked): 不见得, 不见得.

Interpreter: Cannot see, cannot see.


At one time, years ago, the Straits Times had a daily Bilingual Page. I remember reading this story of a chap who visited Japan. He saw a huge banner outside a Tokyo departmental store which gave him a shock. It read:

出卖大日本, which meant "Betray the great Japanese empire (dai Nippon)"!

Actually, the same words when read in the other direction say; "Big sale today".

A War Time Love Story – Lam Chun Chew

My mother told me a love story that happened during the Japanese occupation.

Around 1943, at the tail-end of the Pacific War, my parents were staying in a small town in Johore state, called Segamat. There was a young and good-looking Japanese officer named Watanabe controlling this district. He fell in love with a wholesome looking town girl called Rose (not her real name). They got married through a simple ceremony, witnessed by Rose’s parents and some relatives.

Watanabe was very protective (a minor version of Schindler, a German, in the Holocaust) towards his district population, earning much dismay from his superiors, who believed in harsh treatment towards the locals.

The fairy-tale marriage was short-lived, as the war was coming to an end. The thunderbolt struck, when the Japanese emperor announced Japan’s surrender to the Allied forces in September, the 2nd, 1945, after two atomic bombs were dropped in mainland Japan. The surrendering Japanese troops were to assemble in designated locations controlled by the Allied troops, give up their arms, swords and munitions. Rose cried bitterly because she knew her husband was going to be repatriated to Japan after the war. The departure of her husband was a shattering blow to her, but she had to accept her fate.

It was war that brought them together, and now peace had torn them apart, with her beloved Watanabe returned to his homeland. Would they be able to meet again?

Well, time was healing and Rose later married a Dutch national, moved to Holland, and had a few children. She led a peaceful and happy life in Holland, but in her heart, there was a small corner reserved for her beloved Watanabe. How was he getting on? Was he still alive and well? Such questions lingered in her mind of her ex-lover.

She decided to make a trip to Japan to find out. In Japan she got her answers. Watanabe had remarried happily with a wife and children. Rose was finally at peace with herself and returned to her family in Holland.

Destiny plays a part in War and Peace.

THE BEGGAR by Lam Chun Chew

My mother told me a story when I was a kid. There was this rich man who was a very extravagant and wasteful man, and a wouldn’t-care-less type of a person. Every day his horde of servants would throw away useful things. When preparing meals, the kitchen staff would carelessly spill large amount of rice into a drain which flowed down hill past a monastery.

The chief abbot of the monastery was disgusted with such daily wastage and instructed his monks to use a sieve to trap the rice flowing down the drain, dry them in the sun, pack them into bags, and store in the temple’s warehouse. This rice retrieval went on for a number of years.

Due to some misfortune, the rich man lost all his wealth and became a pauper, and had to resort to begging for a living. One day he visited the monastery and begged for a meal. The abbot recognised him and quickly told his monks to serve him a hearty meal, for which the rich man was very thankful.

The abbot said: “You need not thank me. The rice you are eating now actually belongs to you”. The former rich man was surprised: “I don’t understand?” The chief monk then explained how his monks had retrieved the rice wasted by this rich man in former days. The rich man understood his misdeeds which caused him to lose all his wealth

We can learn a lesson from this story. Sometimes, when I pass by a coffeeshop or a eating place, I see people order large portions of foods, but unable to eat all, leaving behind much leftovers. Many people have forgotten that Singapore has, in its history, gone through ups and downs, and just because we are having good time now, we throw caution to the winds. If we ever placed on a complacent mood, please remember the above story.

Photo courtesy of: Morton Fox

Another Story Our Mother Told Us

(Left: 1951 photo of our mother with my brother David)


My brother Chun Chew recalls another story ....


Once there was a poor scholar by the name of Lui Man Chui who sold vegetable for a living in Guangzhou. He lived with his childless young wife, in a run-down hut. During the New Year festive season, Lui was in dire financial straits, and was unable to make ends meet. However, he still decided to bring festive cheer to his wife by buying a piece of pork from a certain butcher to celebrate the occasion. Having no money he intended to purchase the piece of pork on credit. The butcher was not around at that time. His assistant took pity on Lui's and allowed him to purchase on credit. So Lui happily went home to surprise his wife with the purchase and the wife did cook up a delicious meat soap dish but without rice to go with.

Meantime, the butcher returned to his stall and found out that his assistant had sold Lui the piece of pork on credit - flew into a terrible rage, scolded his assistant profusely, at the same time marching out to Lui's home. The poor couple were about to consume the soup with the meat, and in came the butcher shouting: "How dare you eat my piece of pork without payment !"

He snatched the piece of pork out of the bowl of soup and hastily rushed out of the hut, but an evil thought struck him - "Hey, wait a minute. I may have retrieved the meat but these two hungry idiots still have soup to drink Really enjoying ha!"

He returned to the hut, marched up to the couple's prayer altar and scooped up some incense ash from the altar incense holder and splashed it into the soup, leaving the poor couple speechless.

Lui was so humiliated that he vowed that should he acquire power one day, he would settle score with this 'sub-human'. Later on, Lui did pass the imperial examination and was promoted to a magistrate in Guangzhou. He returned to his home town with pomp and pageantry, but his wife had already starved to death in the hut - that was why there is a Cantonese saying: "Let your wife starve to death and stench the whole house".

Lui was inflamed with hatred and soon rounded up all the town butchers. He passed a decree that all butchers had to chain one leg to their stall in the course of doing their business, thus making their lives difficult.

A Story Our Mother Told Us

I heard some discussion on radio 938Live this morning about family values and filial piety and that sort of thing. I am reminded of a story my brother, Chun Chew posted in the comments section of one of my earlier posts about Cheng Meng. In case some of you missed it, I reproduce it here.

Tomorrow I am giving a talk to the senior citizens at Queenstown Library about blogging. I intend to tell them that one of the aims of this blog is to educate the young about Singapore of yesteryears. I guess no harm in sneaking in a bit of moral education.

Once upon a time, there was this unfilial farmer who often beat up his aged mother at his whim and fancy, especially when she brought his lunch (food) to him late.

One day the farmer saw a mother goat suckling her kid. The baby kid had to kneel down in order to suckle the milk from her. This incident made him reflect on his atrocious behavior towards his mother. So when his mother came to serve him lunch the next day, he rushed forward, this time thinking of assisting her. The mother on seeing her son running towards her, mistakenly thought that the son was again going to beat her up for being late, panicked and fell into a pond, and drowned. The farmer was so remorseful over his misdeed that he mourned over his mother's grave for three years.

The moral of the lesson is that we should be filial while our parents are alive and not to regret after their passing. Here's our mother's favourite quote:

树欲静而风不止，

子欲养而亲不在.

- Confucius

"Honour thy father and thy mother: that thy days may be prolonged upon the land ... " - The 5th Commandment, Exodus 20:12

Grandfather Stories

Last Tuesday, this blog was featured, together with others, in an article in the Chinese daily, Lianhe Zaobao. The article was titled 阿公讲古也 e了or Even Grandfather Stories Are Told the ‘e’ Way.

Thanks to my friend Victor who has painstakingly put up all the relevant links, those of you who missed the article by the reporter who called himself ‘Wei’, can read it here. Victor’s blog was also featured in the article.

Actually, this is not the first time that I have been interviewed by a Zaobao reporter. In December last year, a female reporter spoke to me over the phone. Unlike Wei, who is Singaporean, and spoke excellent English, she spoke only Mandarin and sounded like a Chinese national. I offered to put down in writing the reasons why I started Good Morning Yesterday and email it to her. However, after reading my essay, she said she did not want to use it at that point in time. In order not to waste the essay, I posted it on this blog on New Year’s Eve under the title Why I Started Good Morning Yesterday (see links section on right).

Thanks to this blog, I have been interviewed or reported on more times by reporters over the past year than I have in the previous 54 years (which was zero times). First there was TODAY reporter, Juliana June Rasul who has written twice about this blog. I was also interviewed live on the Morning Breakfast Show on News Radio 938. As for the Straits Times, I have been interviewed twice by them. The first time was by Sandra Leong. But in her article which appeared in the Straits Times Life Section on July 30, there was only 1 line about me and my blog, which was not a bad thing because her article was highly critical of bloggers. Then in September, I was again interviewed by Serene Luo of Digital Life, who wanted my views of how IT has affected our way of life over the past 25 years. I have yet to see the article. I guess she must have decided not to use my inputs.

On the whole, I think I liked most to work with Ms Juliana of Today. Not only does she email me in advance to let me know when the article would be appearing, she even took the trouble to send me the PDF copy of the article.

But the article that made me feel the proudest was the famous Mr Miyagi’s article of November, 30, 2005 in TODAY, when he recommended this blog to readers of his weekly column Chip of the Old Blog. You can read his article here.

Incidentally, I will be collaborating with Ivan Chew, the Rambling Librarian, to give a talk to senior citizens at the Queenstown Library on 25th of this month. This is part of NLB’s activities for Senior Citizens’ Week. If you know any senior who is not familiar with blogging, please ask him to come for our talk.

Blogging for Senior Citizens
Date/Time : 25 November 2006 , 3.00 pm to 4.30 pm
Venue : Queenstown Community Library - Programme Zone
Admission : Free admission

The Story of Mr Tan Pan Beng

Once a month, I follow some Christian friends to visit the old folks at the Lentor Residence. Recently I discovered that one of the residents knew my father. Like my dad, Mr Tan Pan Beng was a member of the Serangoon Garden Citizens’ Consultative Committee for a number of years. Initially, I was a bit suspicious of this 80-year old’s ability to remember things from such a long time ago. But when he was able to describe our kampong, as well as tell me the name of the other village representative from Lorong Kinchir, a certain Mr Low Thiam Aik, I was convinced, and of course thoroughly amazed. In fact he could even recall one occasion when he visited our kampong to mediate in a dispute between us and our tenant, a certain Mr Tan Kuan. And so, I asked him to tell me a bit of his life to share with you on this blog.

(Note: What I report here is merely what Mr Tan told me in Mandarin. I did not verify the accuracy of the facts he narrated)

Mr Tan Pan Beng was born in 1927 in a small Malayan town known as Paloh, situated 10 miles or so north of Kluang in Johor (see map here). Like his father before him, Mr Tan was a pork seller. In 1943, and at the tender age of 18 (yes I know the numbers do not quite add up, but I quote what he told me), Mr Tan joined the underground resistance forces to fight the Japanese occupying army(possibly the MPAJA or Malayan People’s Anti-Japanese Army). They engaged mainly in guerilla warfare, and operated in squads of about 9 to 10 men. This he did for two years until the war ended in 1945 with the surrender of the Japanese. Then, at the age of 20, he was asked to join the army (I think he was referring here to the communists who fought the British after the war). He was reluctant to do that, and so he decided to come to Singapore. At that time, Singapore was part of Malaya, and so he did not actually migrate to another country.

For a few years in Singapore, he worked as an employee for another pork seller. Later, he began to operate his own itinerant business selling pork in the Serangoon Garden area from a bicycle. When the Serangoon Garden market was built in 1962, the government offered him a stall which he operated until his retirement. The rental then was about $5 a month. At that time, he stayed at a kampong in Yio Chu Kang, near the Kok Wah Theatre. Young people would probably not know where that was. It was at the junction of Yio Chu Kang Road and Upper Serangoon Road. He bought his pigs from local farms which were quite plentiful in Singapore those days.

As I reflected on this fact, I realized that I very likely could have patronized Mr Tan’s stall. You see, during the sixties, for a short period, and for reasons I cannot recall, I was tasked by my mother to cycle from our kampong in Lorong Kinchir to do simple marketing in the Serangoon Garden market. I learnt how to buy a few basic items like pork, bean curd (tau kua), bean sprouts (tau gay) and noodles.

I am also reminded that my father did try his hand at rearing pigs for a short while to supplement our income. We only had 2 pigs and after that we stopped. Presumably, it was too much work and not cost effective. Of course we did not slaughter the pigs ourselves.

When the PAP (People’s Action Party) came into power in 1959, Mr Tan joined the Serangoon Garden CCC. He recalled that the first MP (member of parliament) he served under was a Mr Liang Jing Sheng (pronounced in Mandarin) who later left to join the Barisan Socialis. I checked the internet, but was not able to find anyone in the Barisan Socialis by this name. I suspect it was somebody called Dr Sheng Nam Chin. His fellow CCC members, like my dad, were from the surrounding kampongs like Cheng San, Hwi Yoh, Yio Chu Kang and Ow Kang (Hougang).The next MP was a Mr R. A. Gonzales, followed by Mr Rodrigo and Dr Lau Teik Soon. If Mr Tan is right, then I have made a mistake when I told you earlier that we had a MP by the name of Tan Kia Gan (my eldest brother Chun Chew; the one with the supposedly ‘elephant’ memory, to be blamed for this misinformation .. haha) Mr Tan continued to serve all the way until 1997 when he was asked to join the Aljunied GRC (Group Representative Constituency). He declined saying that he was getting on in age and could not speak English.


Photo from the National Archives of Singapore showing member of parliament, R. A. Gonzales leading members of the Serangoon Garden Citizen’s Consultative Committee in a ‘gotong royong’ project to repair Cheng San Road.

Altogether, Mr Tan had 6 children; 3 sons and 3 daughters, and 8 grand children, the oldest of which is in his thirties and married with children; which meant that Mr Tan is a great grand father. He said his children did not excel in studies and consequently were in the pork business like him. His is widowed. His wife passed away about 10 years ago. Except for a problem with his leg, he was mentally alert and could move about on his own with the aid of a walking stick.

I think it is really fated that I should meet Mr Tan Pan Beng and share this story with you. One thing I learned from this story is that, one does not have to be in a highly ‘intellectual’ job to have a good healthy brain; and pork apparently is not so unhealthy a food after all.