What’s wrong with our education system?

Wow, where do I start? I don’t know what possessed me to even broach this topic, but here we are. Perhaps I’ll start with this simple equation concept that all are familiar with:

Quality of effort invested = quality of results

This means that the quality of effort invested in any project or policy is directly co-related to the quality of results. It stands to reason that since so much emphasis has been placed (and money invested) in our education system, that we’d see better results as reflected in our children. However, I’m extremely sad to say that this is not the case. Perhaps it is our education system, or perhaps it is a lack of good parenting, or a combination of both, but the quality of our children still needs to be improved on.

I’m not saying our children aren’t smart enough or don’t do well enough. I’m not talking about academic performance, although I’m sure that’s the first thing on everyone’s minds when we speak of education. I’m simply saying this: our children are not well-rounded enough. And they grow up to be youths Singapore cannot be proud of.

Take a look at this list of objectives I pulled from Ministry of Education’s (MOE) brochure on primary school education:

Judging from all the horrific stories in the press, such as this one, we’ve clearly failed in the first and last objective. A few years ago, I was a Clarke Quay with a few friends. It was closing time for most of the bars/clubs there, and we were walking back to the taxi stand. We came across this girl who was so drunk, she passed out in the middle of the walkway. I went to her immediately because she was splayed on the ground in a very unsightly manner (her short skirt had ridden up, etc) and tried to wake her up, but to no avail. We called an ambulance and dialed the last contact on her mobile phone, to let her friends/family know which hospital she was headed to. While all this was going on, not one of the many passers-by (most of them youths and young adults) stopped to ask if she needed help. Many similar stories have been reported in the media, all revolving around how apathetic Singaporeans are.

Our education system has placed so much emphasis on striving for academic excellence, that our children grow up doing nothing but going for tuition classes, doing home work, and studying for crazy amounts of time. And with whatever little time they have leftover, they’re sent to classes that teach skills like piano and ballet. They become very one-dimensional, and the other areas of their personality are not developed to their full potential. We forget that there are other important traits we should cultivate in them — including creativity, innovation, compassion, kindness and manners. And more importantly, kids should have FUN. (I’m not talking about video games kind of fun — burn that trash!)

One-dimensional children grow up to become adults who are so focused on their careers that they forget to enjoy life, and care for our fellow human beings. Most of us work from 9am to 8pm or later each day, go home, spend a maximum of two hours with our spouse and family, and then hit the sack. Life would be so much more fulfilling if we allocated a strict number of hours to our work, and focused on the little bits of life that truly matter — time with our loved ones, having hobbies that make us truly happy, or even volunteering with the less fortunate.

This mentality will continue to go around in a never-ending cycle. Our children grow up with the current culture ingrained in them, and instill the same in their children. Until there is a drastic change in our education system, Singaporean children will continue to grow up as robots, who define success in life as having 5 ‘C’s — cash, condominium, credit cards, car and country club membership.

To be honest, while I would love my child to do well academically, I know I would have failed at parenting if he/she was not well-rounded, with values such as compassion, kindness and manners. I would have failed if my child becomes one of those many passers-by who walk on by, without sparing a second thought for someone else in need. I would have failed if my child grows up without a desire to help the less fortunate. We can have everything — a fancy car, a beautiful home and lots of cash — but life will be not worth living without the traits that make us truly human.

What does your race mean to you?

Today’s topic on race is going to be extremely sensitive to some. So if you foresee that you may have some issues with this post, please do not read on. Kopi would be a better option.

A few weeks ago, I had offered to help a friend’s acquaintance with her university assignment on inter-racial relationships. She sent over a bunch of questions which I only just got down to replying to today and these two consecutive questions stood out at me: ‘What does your race mean to you?’; and ‘Is your race an important part of you?’.

In all my 27 years, I’ve never really thought about this. I suppose it’s because I don’t believe in categorizing people according to the color of their skin or the different cultures they belong to. To me, being Eurasian is basically about constantly being asked stupid questions — including ‘Are you wearing colored contacts?’,  ‘Chopard is such a unique name… are you mixed?’ or ‘Do you own the watch brand Chopard?’ — and having the privilege of eating authentic and deeply awesome Eurasian food. I’m not quite sure what it means to me, but it definitely does not define me. It does not impact my life in any way, and doesn’t have any part in any decision I make.

I understand that some people don’t see things the same way. In my experience interacting with and listening to others, I understand that race is very important to certain individuals. It affects their day-to-day decisions, for example, they go out of their way to be friendly to individuals of the same race, and shun individuals of a different race. Some feel more important and/or better about themselves just because of their race. Others refuse to marry anyone who is of a different race group. The level of how much race can mean to an individual varies, I suppose. To me, this is a concept that is so foreign that it borders on being ridiculous.

The reason is simple — are we not human beings before we are Chinese/Indian/Malay/Eurasian? Yes we are. And if that’s so, then our intentions, characteristics, actions and habits define us, not some silly piece of paper or a pink card that states we are either Chinese/Indian/Malay/Eurasian. Being a specific race doesn’t make you a better person, or even a bad person. It’s just another specific, like a fingerprint, or a birthmark.

Another two questions that jumped out at me were: ‘Has your partner met your family and friends?’ and ‘Have they ever voiced any opinions regarding his different race (or religion) to you? How did you react to them?’ Let me tell you — if I answered this publicly and in all honesty, some family members would quite pissed off. But, seeing as the past is the past, I shall let it stay exactly where it belongs. Aside from few family members, I’ve come across people (strangers or acquaintances) who almost dislocate their jaws when I show them a picture of my husband. The first question out of their mouths — You married an Indian? — following the shocked and/or appalled expression is both redundant and shameful in today’s society.

Truth is, I’ll never understand how certain characteristics are associated with a specific race. For example, words/ideas most frequently associated with Indians are: drama, wife-beaters, drunkards, IT savvy, smelly, and sometimes even eloquent. Words/ideas most frequently associated with Chinese are: yellow, never wash backside, kiasu, stingy, and so forth. People take these ridiculous characteristics as truth, as if they’re built into genetic DNA! Let me tell you; that kind of neanderthal thinking is what’s shocking, not the fact that I married an Indian man.

To prove my point, my husband is the least dramatic person I know, he doesn’t hit me, isn’t a drunkard and he doesn’t do IT for a living. So what, does this mean that he’s not really Indian? His skin color lies! He’s actually Chinese deep inside! Yes, that must totally be it.

Well that’s the end of my racial rant for today folks. Have a great Wednesday!

Every one makes a difference

A few weeks ago, a friend asked me why I had adopted another dog. I explained that if I hadn’t, Caramel wouldn’t have had a permanent home. He laughed and said, “Aiyah, there are so many dogs out there who need a home! You can’t save them all.” Days later, I mentioned the conversation to Gijo. After listening, he got dreamy and philosophical and told me this story (which I’ve heard before but love is all about “layan-ing” Malay word for entertaining/tolerating your partner):

A young girl was walking along a beach upon which thousands of starfish had been washed up during a terrible storm. When she came to each starfish, she would pick it up, and throw it back into the ocean. People watched her with amusement. She had been doing this for some time when a man approached her and said, “Little girl, why are you doing this? Look at this beach! You can’t save all these starfish. You can’t begin to make a difference!” The girl seemed crushed, suddenly deflated. But after a few moments, she bent down, picked up another starfish, and hurled it as far as she could into the ocean. Then she looked up at the man and replied, “Well, I made a difference to that one!” The old man looked at the girl inquisitively and thought about what she had done and said. Inspired, he joined the little girl in throwing starfish back into the sea. Soon others joined, and all the starfish were saved.
- Aapted from the Star Thrower by Loren C. Eiseley

And then, despite my attempts not to do any deep thinking about life on weekdays (just too damned depressing), I thought about the story he had just told me. It’s important to make a difference in this world. Some are called to be social workers who are hands-on in their efforts to help those in need. Others are able to give financially to the needy. And for the rest of us who want to help by investing our time, there’s always volunteer work or small acts of kindness we can practice on a daily basis in order to make a difference. Take, for example, the simple act of smiling at a stranger.

A very long time ago, I decided to make it a point to smile at strangers, because I realised how powerful this simple act of kindness could be. It required no effort from me, yet was simple and effective at making someone else happy. Initially, it was extremely discouraging, because I’d only get very strange looks in return for my smile. Most people would either look away, seem very uncomfortable, or walk briskly away from me. I’m quite accustomed to this kind of behavior now, but there are moments — when strangers smile just as crazily back at me — that make it all worthwhile. A smile is an extremely powerful thing. A smile is extremely warming and welcoming. It tells someone that they are wanted, and it may potentially give them the encouragement they need to get through the day. Plus, they’re contagious! It’s very, very, very difficult not to smile back, especially when someone is grinning crazily at you.

In our success-driven Singaporean society, friendliness, kindness and consideration aren’t a priority. Watching Singaporeans at hawker centers, coffee shops, on public transport and so forth, has led to this observation. No one says “thank you” anymore to the uncle/aunty who cleans the table at eateries. No one says “please” when ordering food from a coffee shop stall. And above all, no one smiles warmly at the person serving them, much less a stranger they pass on the streets. A smile, a simple “please” and “thank you” are very powerful — they make others feel appreciated and wanted.

Acts of kindness are important. If we could just learn to offer up this small act of kindness to our fellow country men, we’d be a much more advanced society than what we are today. Remember — every one makes a difference! So here’s a smile for every one of you reading this. Now go pay it forward!

Trip to Siem Reap, Cambodia

Cambodian boat people – straddling the line between sand and sea

So, my cousin, his girlfriend, Gijo and I jetsetted it to Siem Reap, Cambodia for six days at the end of February. I thought I had better blog about the trip ASAP before I forgot the finer details, because as those closest to me know underneath this nubile young body lies a body of a 98-year-old grandmother.

My foremost takeaway from this holiday was, unfortunately, that Siem Reap was an extremely dusty and orange part of Cambodia. To envision it, just close your eyes and imagine orange dust everywhere. And then imagine that orange dust going up your nose… Clinging to your skin… Clogging your pores… Clumping in your hair… and you’ll know exactly what I mean. Other than it being very dusty and orange, Siem Reap has a very laid-back culture. Even the airport security was relaxed to the point of being… non-existent. To prove my point, below is a picture of my husband and cousin a few steps from the airport runway, having just disembarked from the airplane. Further on into the terminal, there stands an empty customs counter. Ironically enough, all visitors are made to fill in a customs declaration form before going through immigration. I’m just going to chalk it up to another one of life’s mysteries and move on.

We also went to see the Angkor Vat temples. I’ve only spelt it as ‘Vat’ and not ‘Wat’ because I read a French-Cambodian history book while waiting to for my massage appointment at our resort and I do not dare contradict something written by the French people (who discovered the temples) and the Cambodian people (who live in, well, Cambodia). So Angkor Vat it shall be in this blog post. In the photo below, I’m squinting because the sun was beating down in a blaze of fury. Something has to be said about the Cambodian sun. It’s one hot instrument of hell. And it was out in full glory, taunting us everyday. Coupled with the orange dust, day time in Siem Reap is very much akin to what I imagine hell to be. There was no greater relief than diving head first into the resort pool after a blazing day sightseeing under the sun. No joke.

Amanda & I going down the steps of Angkor Vat.

Speaking of sightseeing, Gijo and I headed out to the Mekong River for a tour of the floating villages. The life of a floating villager is… Well, difficult. They don’t own refrigerators so they have to catch their food daily, and use ice boxes to store their raw food for up to a day. The buy ice and water from land merchants, who use boats to deliver the purchases. Some cook using fire (and firewood) and some have gas tanks. We saw many beggar children on boats while out there. One boy on a boat with his mother (couldn’t have been older than two) had a plastic cup in his hand, and was drinking from the river. The river was the colour of mud, and it was dry season, so it had the stench of rotting fishes. On the way back to land, I noticed a bloated and decomposing rat floating in downstream. The boy in the photo below was one of the few beggar children we came across on our boat ride. He carried a python and let me touch it for a few US dollars. Of course, I didn’t really want to touch the damned snake, but being Singaporean, I felt like I had to get some bang for my buck. Just kidding.

And of course, what would a holiday be without good food to go along with it? The Khmer food reminded me a lot like the stir-fried dishes you’d usually get in Thailand. They even have their own version of stir-fried chicken/beef basil and chicken cashew nut. No prizes for guessing which two dishes I ate the most during the 6 days. If anything, the difference in taste was Khmer cuisine was a little sweeter, whereas the Thai cuisine is usually much spicier. Oh, and all the Khmer food was plenty salty too, which usually would not have been a problem for me, except that it surpassed even my salt threshold. There is also much to say about the Western food there. We found many small restaurants opened by Europeans which served up some pretty decent nosh. It wasn’t fine dining, but it was good for the price and had plenty of taste. This is my husband, ecstatic over the spread in front of him:

And of course, last but not least, let’s talk about the resort we stayed at – Navutu Dreams Resort & Spa. It was gorgeous. The resort was opened by three Italians eight months ago and the concept, layout and interior design was done very well. They have 18 exclusive villas, all of which are simply stunning. JUST LOOK AT THE PICTURE. That water… Makes me wish the six days didn’t fly by so fast. Also, the service was excellent. The reception staff and restaurant/bar staff were extremely cheerful and helpful. The tuk tuk driver assigned to us by the hotel, Mr Kohsa, was equally upbeat and talkative. He patiently answered all our questions on Cambodian history and culture, and expounded on explanations. Needless to say, most of our talks lasted much longer than normal conversations of the like but… well, we learnt a lot. Who’s complaining?

Well, I think that’s about it! I’m actually going to stop here and now before I book two tickets back to Siem Reap just to check myself into Navutu again.

Happy week, everyone!

Singapore’s National Service: A joke with perks?

So… I just finished with Ah Boys To Men 2 and I was pleasantly shocked at how good it was. Aside from being blatant propaganda for Singapore’s National Service (NS), it made me think seriously about our men and their compulsory two years of service for our nation.

My dad recounts his days of NS (he was the second batch) as being extremely tough, but it was a time when he had no other option but to pull through. I remember he recounted an occasion when he and his sergeant had to eat the fruit offerings at a cemetery gravestone because they had no food while they were out at field. He didn’t feel guilty, either, or worry that anything supernatural would come after him (his response when I suggested this was: “Aiyah nonsense la!”). Another story involved him waking up (sans tent) with a wild boar sniffing around at his feet. His stories always began with: “The youngsters today are not tough la, Alisa! They don’t know what war really is. War sure all die.”

And he’s probably right. These days, I’ve heard from friends that NS men in the jungle can order food (like MacDonalds) and have it delivered to them. These days, parents have all the power — and they use it to complain about how badly the Singapore Armed Forces (SAF) is treating their sons. My dad will say that parents these days are as weak as their sons, and that the younger generations in Singapore do not know hardship anymore. (You know, there may be a co-relation between the increased number of deaths in the military and the increased cushy-ness of our lifestyle. I mean, seriously, a housekeeper carrying an NS man’s field pack?)

He speaks from experience. My dad was born after the war, but his parents and siblings were around to see it. The Eurasians were transported to a separate camp, where they had to live. My grandmother was pregnant with one of my aunts when she was in there, and from what I understand, life wasn’t easy. My grandfather told me of the Japanese occupation, of the cruelty of the Japanese soldiers, of the harsh living conditions and the admirable lengths human beings will go though just to survive.

Because of their stories, I realise despite our safe little bubble, war is very real. And because of their stories, I admire the men (and women) who willingly and eagerly serve our country. I know many boys complain about enlisting and while I understand the hesitation, I have hope that they come to realise the importance of what they are called to do. One question in particular jumped out at me during the movie, and it is this: If you don’t serve, who will?

I believe NS changes a person. They come out mentally tougher and stronger after Basic Military Training (BMT). Being pushed to your body’s physical and mental capabilities and still come out alive is bound to have a positive effect on people. I also believe that they come out better men (and women), having learned values that can only be taught under stress and duress. Well, most anyway.

You may have guessed by now that I have a very strong allegiance to Singapore. It’s not about having a strong allegiance to any political party — it is about our country. And I love my country. Many people are quick to tie everything to politics, and jump at chance to pass judgement at the policies we have in place by the ruling party but they miss the point. There is a certain camaraderie that develops amongst the boys who serve NS, and it’s the same camaraderie that binds us all as Singaporeans. I love the safety of being in this land, the structure, the ease in which we live and function… All of the things that many of us take for granted. And it’s this sense of security that we protect by sending our boys to NS, by asking them to do a service to our nation.

My husband serves Singapore full time, as part of the SAF and he does it, I believe, because he has pride in this country. He is hopeful of our future, and goes to work each day knowing he plays a part in safeguarding the present. It’s the same reason why I do to work each day. I am a civil servant, and I joined to make a difference, and to serve my fellow Singaporeans. Not everyone in the civil service has the same mindset, but I believe there are enough like-minded people who are intent on playing a small role to ensure the success of our country. I know many Singaporeans won’t understand this, and I don’t blame anyone for not being able to. It’s much, much easier to sit down complain, but I’d just like to say that it’s a lot harder to get up and start helping, with the hope of a better tomorrow.

So the next time you hear someone complaining about Singapore, or its policies (like NS), challenge them to do something about it. Challenge them to make a difference from the inside out, or else, stop complaining. Because incessant complaining is never of benefit, to anyone, or in any situation.

Puppy mill cruelty

Caramel on her first journey home!

Please meet Caramel the Papillon — the newest member of our family! She was “rescued” from a puppy mill by Voices For Animals and Dogs Owners Guidance Singapore, who are at Mutts and Mittons at Pasir Ris Farmway Drive (as I type this) trying to re-home some of the other poor pups from Caramel’s batch. Yesterday after work, Gijo and I rushed down to The Pet Doctors at Pandan Valley to visit Caramel, who was undergoing her first medical check up since she was rescued. I was not prepared for the sight that greeted me. I thought I knew the levels of cruelty my fellow man was capable of… But I was not expecting to have to stare it in the face. There were at least four or five dogs in really bad shape, all waiting around after having gone through their medical check up. These were a few of the ones my heart went out to:

Smokey with a flea infestation (and most likely tick fever).

Lola, with an eye condition and a sore on her head

Nemo, with a neurological condition.

And here is Caramel, with terrible flea infestation and tick fever, waiting for her shave down. Gijo and I decided a shave down was the best way to nip the problem in the bud, even if she does look like a bald rat for the mo’.

Caramel about to have her fur chopped off, to get rid of the flea infestation.

I hope you’re as horrified as I am. I’ve heard (because I couldn’t watch) about the horrific videos online from China; where people have stabbed the heels of their shoes into the eyes of puppies, and skinned dogs alive on the streets. I thought I knew the levels of human deprivation. It seemed so far away, in a country that I honestly feel could do to learn some compassion and manners, until I saw a portion of it in my own backyard. What kind of terrible, vapid human being does this to the animals in his/her care? Most of poor dogs were infested with fleas (comparable to leaving a human in a tank of sandflies), and some couldn’t see or walk properly. They were all found to have varying levels of malnutrition.

Interestingly enough, I was speaking with one of the ladies I met at the vet about her experiences with rescue dogs from puppy mills. This is what she shared with me. She mentioned that Agri-Food & Veterinary Authority of Singapore (AVA) has about four officers who investigate complaints from the public on animal cruelty. Apparently, they call the puppy mill some time beforehand, to let them know that they’ll be “paying a visit”. With the time the breeder now has, he cleans up in preparation for the AVA officer. And if, despite his efforts, the AVA officer still finds that a few dogs are sick, the breeder is given a chance to fix the problem, and an alternate date is set for the AVA officer to come for a second visit. Most breeders don’t treat the dogs, they just put them down, so there’s no chance they’ll face a $10,000 fine from AVA. So technically, the breeders aren’t breaking the law. Furthermore, if the breeder does get shut down by AVA, the non-profit animal welfare organisations will have a re-homing problem on their hands. If you’ve read that whole paragraph, you’ll realise that there are some flaws in the system. (And if you find that the information I’ve received is incorrect, please feel free to show me)

I’ve lifted this from AVA’s website:

One of AVA’s key responsibilities is to safeguard animal welfare. AVA does this by enforcing animal welfare regulations and through public education.

As a champion for animal welfare, AVA has been actively promoting responsible pet ownership to equip existing and potential owners with knowledge on the care and responsibility that comes with owning a pet. As part of our educational efforts, AVA has been reaching out to students to inculcate a sense of responsible pet ownership through talks at schools since 2001.

“Enforcing” animal welfare regulations “through public education”. Seriously? Just look at the pictures of the dogs above. Do they look like anyone has “enforced” animal welfare regulations on the breeder who has had them? And while we’re at it, what kind of nonsense is this calling ahead before an inspection? It’s not a damn tea party with cucumber sandwiches! And making an appointment to follow up? What is this, a dental appointment? For God’s sake, hire more manpower if that’s what it would take to ensure that the organisation had the capacity to carry out surprise inspections!

I am in disbelief that such uncompassionate people exist, and AVA does not enforce more airtight laws in support of animal welfare. And if we all just sit by and accept this in silence, then we are just as bad as those indifferent, callous breeders. It’s sad. We’ve come so far as a country. We have power and water at our disposal, so much economic success, and comfortable homes to live in. We’re not plagued by diseases or blinding hunger. Most of us want for nothing. Actually no… Correction. I believe most of us still want for compassion.

Reasons for divorce?

So I was reading this article on The Huffington Post (THP) yesterday, and I am surprised at what people have listed as reasons for divorce. Just a little background to the article: THP asked their Twitter followers to list reasons why they thought marriages end in divorce. Some of the tweets they’ve featured were very personal, and I presume they come from real situations and experiences. Anyway, these are the reasons from some of the tweets:

1. Some people are not meant to be monogamous.
2. Couples grow up and apart.
3. Some don’t put the ones they love first.
4. There was no love in the first place.
5. Trust is destroyed.

Call me Asian, old fashioned or just plain naive, but these reasons don’t seem to be good enough to break up such a special institution. Yes, it may be because I have not been married long enough, or I simply don’t know or understand what “older” couples go through. Whatever it is, these are my thoughts and hopes on/for marriage based on the values I have been taught and what the married couples in my life have shown me.

1. Monogamy is a choice
I’ve known some men who just can’t help themselves. Married, attached… it doesn’t seem to matter to them. This makes me angry, to be honest. People make mistakes. I’ll be the first to admit that I’ve made some serious mistakes in my life. But to keep making them intentionally, despite knowing you’re hurting people right, left and centre… well, that’s another story altogether. It is my humble opinion that men and women who haven’t made the decision to be monogamous should not get married.
On this topic of monogamy; I think the natural reaction to a cheating spouse is to throw blame around like rice at an Indian wedding and walk out. But it is more difficult to dissect the cause of the cheating. This is a fact about humans: when our needs are not fulfilled, we turn to other people or ways to find what we need. So, perhaps there was something missing in the marriage in the first place. I know many will react very strongly to this reasoning, but don’t get me wrong; I am not saying that there is an excuse for a cheating spouse. I am merely saying that every action has a reaction, or to put it simply, every symptom has root issue. Unless your spouse is a serial cheater (then dump his ass!), it might benefit the marriage to find the root cause and focus on fixing the problem.

2. Love is a choice. And a verb
I went into marriage with the most pessimistic mind-set, I swear. I didn’t go into it with the illusion that love was enough for us, that our love was all we needed, or that our love would last forever. I expected the worst, to be honest. I know it sounds terrible, but you know what they say — expect the worst and hope for the best. And that’s worked out marvellously well. I expect if I continue being pessimistic, I’ll survive another 50 years of marriage, easily.

Anyway, back to my point about love being a choice… After 20 years of marriage, you don’t miraculously wake up each morning with this overwhelming rush of good emotions for your partner. To those who still do, please tell me your secret? I’ll let you pet my dog. But, I digress. While I may still be experiencing these good emotions now after four years, I think I’ll have another… five or six (?) years before it fades. And when that happens, I will have to make a constant decision to love my husband and I will have to put that into practice every day. With enough practice, it does get easier. I mean… this is how arranged marriages manage to work out. Both parties realise and acknowledge that love is a choice. And I know all about arranged marriages… I married into an Indian family.

Talking about practice brings me to my next point: love is a verb. There is an incredibly famous verse from the Bible tells us how to practice love every day. While it may come from a religious text, it is in a universal language most of us can understand. It’s a language of patience, kindness, humility, selflessness and forgiveness. Above all, it’s a language of hope.

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails. (1 Corinthians 13:4-8)

3. Trust is a choice
I know that once trust is broken, it’s incredibly difficult to replace. In fact, I’d go so far as to say that it can never be fully restored. But there is hope. With a few choices (love, trust and forgiveness) and some practice, trust can be rebuilt into something that may resemble what originally was… only perhaps stronger in the knowledge that a great hurdle has been overcome.

4. Forgiveness is a choice
It’s so difficult to forgive. Sometimes, we just don’t feel like doing it. We feel that it may be weak to give in, or we feel like seeing the other party suffer before we pardon them, or we feel incredibly hurt and cannot bring ourselves to forgive. But I was taught a long time ago that forgiving someone shouldn’t be based on a feeling. We should forgive despite any feelings we may have, because it’s better for our emotional well-being, and it will help everyone move along with life (that does move on, whether we like it or not). Forgiveness is a decision. You make it, and then practice it. And hopefully, time will really make what you practice a reality.

On the subject of granting forgiveness, I should also speak about asking for it. When I was younger, I mistook asking for forgiveness as a terrible weakness. Because of this, I found it very difficult to ask for forgiveness, especially when I felt that it wasn’t my fault, or when I felt extremely hurt. But, I know now that it is not weakness, instead, it is a sign of strength and humility. It doesn’t matter if you’re less to blame for the situation, or whether you feel like you’ve done nothing wrong. Asking for forgiveness is essential to reconciliation, because if there’s anything I’ve learnt, it always takes two hands to clap. Even if you’re not clapping with the same velocity, you’re still making some kind of movement.

5. Don’t expect to feel “in love” forever
I remember reading an article in National Geographic in 2006 about love. It followed the studies of anthropologist Helen Fisher, who outlined the truth about being “madly in love” and experiencing “love at first sight”. The general gist of the article was about the chemical reaction in our bodies when we meet someone we are attracted to, as compared to an emotion (I’m sure and her group of scientists had some scientific basis to this finding). This chemical reaction is thought to be the cause of people feeling that they’re “in love” with the person they’re dating, when all it was, was their bodies undergoing a chemical reaction. Unfortunately, this chemical reaction has an expiration date, and when it fades, people choose to leave because they buy into the lie that they don’t love their partner anymore. You can hear one of Helen Fisher’s talks on romantic love here. Most couples split because they say that they “fell out of love” with their partner. But the truth is, love is a choice, and it takes practice.

6. Communication is key
I’ve seen couples who just didn’t communicate. A girlfriend would tell me how she really felt, and when I asked her if she had expressed this to her partner, the answer was “I don’t want to make the situation worse by bringing this up” or “He’s not going to understand even if I tell him”. And I can’t help but think A) the situation is going to get worse if everyone sweeps this under the carpet; and B) she won’t know what he does and doesn’t understand if she doesn’t open her mouth and say it.

Of course, it’s important to share your thoughts and feelings objectively and tactfully, to refrain from saying anything that could cause hurt or damage. My husband will be the first to admit that it took a while for him to get used to this, but it’s helped us get through many disagreements and fights. While it’s important for both parties to say what they’re feeling and thinking, it’s also important for them to learn how to handle it when their partner needs to communicate with them. Sometimes, the setting is also important when you share your thoughts or feelings. Pick an appropriate time when both parties can truly focus on what is being said and discussed.