feeding the pigeons at Trafalgar Square
These are among one of the earliest photos I have of myself, apart from the days when I was a brown baby and 'sam man zhai' (street kid in Cantonese as my Por Por or grandmother would fondly say of me).
We lived in a large 30,000 foot post colonial bungalow at 6 Adis Road, Singapore 9. When the days were long with play, barefoot in the parks, on roads, playing football at the next door cement floored playground belonging to the Methodist Girls School.
My days of childhood, from birth till about 14 or 15 were in 1 word "carefree". The entire era was set in upon a glorious backdrop of emerging Singapore, from the horrors and abject humiiation of the 2nd World War, the Japanese Occupation of British Colony Singapore. Then after the 2nd Wordl War, there was a strong anti-colonialist movement leading to the formation of the Federation of Malaya together with Sabah, Sarawak and Singapore.
All of these historical events went over my infancy and early childhood days. All I worried about was whether I could score goals against the next door boys and playing with our 3 dogs, Jippy, Mickey and Scamper.
Fast forward to 1974 and as I fondly look back at these times, I am struck at the innocence of my outlook and my face was aglow and I was rather a plump kid. I had a joyous trip, I vaguely remember the Greece trip (most of the sights were ruins ha ha) but London was a fascinating eye opener for a young lad like me. I immediately wanted to be 'English'. Yes I was naive and stupid for a while. This is called finding out oneself
Several events stood out from that trip, I strongly remember standing at Trafalgar Square and feeding the pigeons, it was a cold day but the sun was shining. The country was less cosmopolitan than today and the red double decker buses and the black beetle looking London Cabs stood out. In addition, I strongly remember we stayed a couple of nights at the Strand - which was considered 5 star in those days. The service was impeccable to my pre teenage mind.
Outside St Paul's Cathedral
My father was a lovely, brilliant man. Slow to anger at home, he led by quiet example. My trip to Europe was my luck as the first born. Before my 12th birthday, he took me to visit Greece and England, his 'motherland' as I teased him. He was an Anglophile, that of the "Sun never sets on the British Empire" mentaility which was mercilessly put down by globalization and the rise of mutlipolar societies each trumpeting their strengths. From socialism, to social democrats, Communists, to dictatorships each one was careening into the future.
My father Geoffrey studied in Grays Inn London, was called to the Bar in the early 50s and still had many English friends from his undergraduate days. I recalled we stayed in a couple of his friend's places and ate some very mild curry. Ha ha !
In those days (early 1970s) the British Empire's influence was but a small number of countries still considered 'colonies', Hong Kong was about the last to go in 1997 and was handed over to the Chinese, who promptly administered the "1 country 2 systems" rule whereby the Chief Executive of the country was someone approved by Beijing.
Indeed the white man's soft power influence has been greatly diminished. Especially since the start of the 21st Century. Good riddance.
The number of congregation goers numbers in the thousands on Sunday
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