vox

A subdued Chinese New Year

It's definitely been the most painful and toned-down Chinese New Year in my living memory. When my maternal grandmother died (aka Por Por) last Wednesday, we had to quickly organise a wake (Chinese tradition of keeping the deceased company until funeral rites are performed) over the next 3 days followed by a cremation.

As she died a day before Chinese New Year began, we did not want to put up a big advertisement as that would make our friends and other relatives feel obliged to show up. We didn't want to be the dampener or jinx for anyone during this festive period.

My sleep patterns have been stretched to nearly the limit. I'd keep my mum company until around 2am then we'd go home. By the time I got ready to sleep it would be 3am. We kept doing this up to Friday and still woke up in time for the funeral rites which were supposed to begin at 10.30am on the same day.

The ceremony started late but after that everything went smoothly. We were all dressed in white and black, the younger and more agile ones sitting on the floor while the others sat on chairs behind us. The Taoist priest recited many chants which were unintelligible to me (as it was in dialect) and all I could pick out was my mum's dialect name being included in between.

The priest's voice seemed choked with emotion and I was surprised as he wasn't my grandma's regular priest (the big shot was on his Chinese New Year break and subcontracted it out to this guy), so he probably didn't know her so well. Then his emotional expression went back to normal as he spoke to my cousin Dom who was right in front, clarifying a few things with him. Then the priest continued chanting and choking 'emotionally'. I thought that was unnecessary - if you don't feel so remorseful, why pretend to be? God knows our hearts. Maybe it's just part of the Taoist tradition to sound sad even if you don't know your client.

Then we stood up, circled the coffin a few times and each paid our final respects with a joss stick and 3 bows of the body. We made our way downstairs and turned our backs on the coffin as we weren't supposed to see it get loaded into the car.

While I saw many of these rituals as superstitions, I respected them as did my other cousins who are Catholic.

We headed to the Mandai Crematorium. It was the first time I've been to any crematorium, I think. Our room was cold but very tastefully furbished, with a good view of the coffin which was trundled in by a machine. When it made its way towards the furnace, other family members got pretty emotional. I wiped my own tears away.

I was with my little niece Natalie, who understood what was happening. She had scampered to the left side of the room and an aunt from my dad's side (who had kindly chosen to be with us in Por Por's final moments) gestured for me to keep an eye on her. So I went over and held her so she wouldn't fall over the steps - and it gave us a much better view as the coffin was led through a door on the left.

I told Natalie to pay attention as this would be the last time she'd see Por Por (or Dai Por as she called her). She said she knew. On Wednesday, she had drawn a picture for Por Por and this was placed into the coffin. Presumably it would also be cremated with her.

As the furnace doors closed, we were quickly ushered to another room to wash ourselves with a pail of water that had lots of flowers and leaves in it. We used the colourful towels given to us earlier, which were each tied in bundles of red string. We then threw the towels away. I was just following what everyone else did - even the adults weren't sure at some points what to do next!

At that point, Natalie also cried, saying she missed Dai Por. Apparently she even said "There goes another generation." Pretty big thoughts for someone not yet in Primary School.

I have to thank everyone at work for chipping in. I was especially touched that collections were made not just by my own department, RDS, but also by Corporate Comms, Partnership Management and Corporate Marketing, including the respective Deputy Directors and my own Director. I didn't know I was entitled to a wreath for grandparents' funerals, but was happy to contribute to more flowers at the wake.

Yes, even in such moments I believe we should document them, so here's a photo of the wreath from HPB. Thanks guys. It means much to me.

A taste of management

Covering for people can be interesting, especially if the work is quite different from what I normally do. At one period, a number of senior staff were not around and those of us who did remain had to use our initiative and make decisions on behalf of the team. Myself included.

For the past 3 weeks it has been challenging but I have gotten the hang of it. I don't worry anymore - some things can be done, while others are too late but we have the right to turn down a request or postpone it, or reduce the scope. People are reasonable if you explain things to them clearly. 

Handling junior staff is also a good learning experience. I have learnt and observed through the years that a good manager does not see the 'power' he/she wields as key to the position held. Junior staff look up to the senior staff for clear directions, consistency and support. 

When these are lacking, there is confusion and a drop in morale. This week has been emotionally charged - not on my part, but for other people in unfortunate situations out of their control. I've provided a listening ear and given a bit of advice. While I myself can't do much to change things, I can speak to the people who are in a position to help, and that has eased the situation a bit.

I realised I'm not the sort to go into minute details all the time. Fortunately, some work can be delegated while I still make the final checks and support the documents going through. 

With added authority comes responsibility. I owned up to a decision I made, which in the end was accepted as reasonable after I gave my reasons for doing so. But now at least I know, such things aren't the norm and shouldn't be repeated. 

The other tendency I've noticed over the years is that new managers tend to assume that junior staff can simply get other people to do things, just as the managers themselves have. We must remember that junior staff are in a more difficult position. People listen less to them and it is harder for them to get other people's support, or force others to meet their deadlines, or speak firmly with a senior member of the team. When it comes to the crunch, it is the manager who should resume control of the project and deal with people on his/her own level.

For an ongoing project, the arrangement now is that I will liaise with senior external personnel while the junior staff can liaise with vendors and other people involved in day-to-day updates of our project. It has worked out fine and nobody feels awkward.

In short, the work so far has overall been an eye-opener and a good learning experience for me.

I especially like the feeling when I inspire a new staff to continue doing a good job. Usually it involves specific praise. When I correct a draft, I try to present the reasons for my changes objectively so that the person learns and isn't intimidated to try again.

It's too early to tell but I still like doing radical things. It is impossible to stay in the loop on everything your staff are doing, so I just go for summaries because I don't need to know all the detail all of the time, unless we're in trouble and have to answer for something. You have to trust your staff and let go, or else you'll never break away from being a 'doer'.

And that's my 2 cents worth, from my 3 weeks covering as manager.

Main blog down

My blog's down. It seems that it's because the web server is down. The web host is fixing things. But in the meantime, what better opportunity to update this Vox blog :P 

Vintage QotD: My Life Is Taggable

What are the 5 words that best describe your life right now?
Submitted by mojito.  

1. Seeking
   
2. Introspective
   
3. Detached
4. Faith-driven
5. Changing
   

LASIK, part 2

Had LASIK on my right eye this morning. According to my heart rate I was more relaxed than during my previous operation on the left eye. However, I was so relaxed that my gaze was not steady, and the surgeon had to stop several times to tell me to focus on the light. The thing is, the light seemed to be moving about so much that I didn't know where to focus. Anyway, after the operation I could see instant results, and I was under the laser for a shorter time because my right eye has a lower degree.

It's time to rest my eye again, so I will end here.

Seeing like an old-timer

I had a pre-LASIK consultation today and as part of the tests, had to 'paralyse' my eye muscles so I can't focus properly, nor can my pupils dilate when the light's too bright. This will last for 24-36 hours. Now when I look at broad daylight, it's like my camera's been set to a high ISO and everything just looks dazzling white.

So I have to wear my big sunglasses in the day, and I'm typing this on my screen while squinting. I can't see near objects with my specs on. Have to take them off, like some of our parents would. Now I know how they feel.

QotD: Signed, Sealed, Delivered

How do you sign your emails?
Submitted by rosemarypepper.

Usually I end with "Cheers".

QotD: Also Known As

What other names did your parents consider for you?

Actually, they only told me they thought of 'Vanessa'. Apparently for a short while I had no name. I was labelled as 'Baby of ___' (insert my Dad's name).

Life is like a game of Reversi

The Life Series - Part 1

Forrest Gump said, "Life was like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're gonna get."

When I was young, I used to play with my mum's Reversi board, thinking they looked like pieces of coin-shaped chocolates. This evening, as a dear friend of many years whipped out her Reversi board and challenged me to a match, the little memory I had of the game came back.

I've never been good at chess because it made me spend too much time thinking, and I got impatient. My record for Reversi was fairly mixed as well, and I hadn't played the game for several years. I was fully prepared to lose.

As I played, I gradually remembered the strategy of the game and began to see it as a representation of life. All the rash decisions I made before, were for immediate gain and long-term strategic loss. Once you cede a corner, you can never take it back. On the other hand, you may gain a whole cluster of squares, but lose them in a few moves if your opponent takes you on both sides. And even if you gain some ground on the sides, the tables can turn if you again allow yourself to be sealed off at both ends.

The game reminded me that almost everything in life is temporal. In the beginning, wins and losses are small but they accumulate. Every decision counts, although you can still bounce back from a few bad moves if you make more good ones to compensate for it.

In short, up to a certain point, the mistakes you make can be redeemable if you try hard enough. So if you find yourself in a losing situation, don't give up. Sometimes you need to lose a few tiles to gain more back.

Such strategy games also teach us how to plan in advance. We shouldn't just plan for the next step but for the next few steps as well. Don't make assumptions because the unexpected can happen.

Like in real life, there is temptation. You want to seize power immediately with a swipe, imagining how most of the board will switch to your colour. But how much of this territory can be just as easily returned to your opponent? You may want something (or someone) really badly, but how much good will that do for you in the long run? Do you have the will power to resist instant gratification and endure the pain of anonymity, waiting for your turn to strike and turn the tables?

The game also taught me that quality is better than quantity, in strategic terms. It is better to gain just one tile that you cannot lose, than to gain many that can easily turn renegade. Just like it is better to have one good friend than many fair-weathered ones. (I hope I was being a good friend despite not being a gracious guest!)

Sometimes the opponent may be very strong in one area. That's when you stick yourself in the middle and prevent him from expanding further, in either direction. I'd call it the David and Goliath principle. If you have limited powers in one area, focus them to be a pain in the neck (or a stone in the forehead) that won't go away. In short, you can still put the little resources you have to good use.  

Double standards in blog reading

[This sounds a bit harsh, but I'm in a snippy mood after two events in a row with blogger friends.]

I've been slightly annoyed by the attitude of friends who expect me to know about every post they blog about. When they discover I'm unaware of some news that happened a while back (e.g. Friend A breaking up with Friend B), they express surprise that I don't know about it. That makes me feel bad, despite me having to read 500 other feeds, many of which are more informative and regularly updated (which is why I prefer reading them instead).

But later on when I mention something that I blogged about (e.g. me being really ill recently, or playing in a jazz band), I can tell they haven't read my blog either, because they respond like they've heard the news for the first time. And I have to tell them my story from scratch, which more or less confirms it.

So far I've kept quiet at such events because it really isn't worth bickering about, but I'm going to post it here just for the record. One day, if I get another comment like "Oh, you didn't read my post last month on how I clipped my toenails?", I might just shove this post up their face. It makes me feel like a 2nd-class netizen, because I'm expected to know everything about them, yet they don't feel obliged to know about me. This may be OK if they're A-list blogebrities who are worshipped by millions - but we're all far from that. A little humility and mutual respect would be nice, especially if we've been friends and equals for years, even decades.

Basically, don't expect other people to read your personal blog fastidiously, and openly make comments about their ignorance, yet fail to reciprocate yourself. It's a kind of double standard which puts me off.