Growing Up 1966 - 1970

 

                                            Long Time Ago 1969 at the Marshall Residence. 

Those early years (the first 16) growing up at 6 Adis Road, Singapore 9 (there was only 1 post code number back in those days nearly 60 years ago) were in my opinion best characterized in one word :

"carefree"

Homework was very rare, if any. My brother and I had Chinese tuition, from Primary 3, and my eyesight developed myopia from Pri 1 to Pri 3. I have 5 long time very clear recollections 

a) the Nurse from MOH who came to check us with a visual chart, was shouting at me and sternly said " Dont bluff !" when I couldn't see properly past the first few rows.

b) we had dental hygiene daily, and all the Junior Primary school boys would squat outside the classroom and with their appointed toothbrush, and some toothpaste, brush vigorously and rise with their appointed tumblers.

Once, my then best friend Edward Ong and I came late and we rushed to the side to see that everybody has started their routine and we quickly assumed our places at the end of the line and brushed and gargles like nothing happened. 

c) my Chinese teacher was a Mrs. Pang, a huge heavy set woman and she would always conduct "Ting Xie" or spelling. Every time I failed, which was often. I would be summoned to the front to explain why I couldn't even remember 5 of the 10 words she told the class during spelling test. 

   She would then proceed to twist the living daylights of my ear, and I can still head the membrane crackling and the pain from the twisting punishment.

d) I was fortunate enough in Primary 3 to be ferried by taxi to and from school. My form teacher Miss Ang happened to also 'tompang' in the same yellow top and black bodied taxi. She was always dressed in very bright clothes, bright blouse and skirt and the smell of her perfume permeated the entire taxi. 

 

                                             1966 Sitting atop my father's Simca SU 7867 

e) The dental hygiene programme in those days, consisted of regular checks of the boys' teeth, and the dental clinic was located beside the tuck shop at the bottom of some stairs. We boys took it as a 'death sentence' every time our names were called. My favorite impression all these years (or should I say depression) was that of the earlier boy who went to the clinic and had his tooth( teeth) extracted. 

He would walk up slowly with the orange card which had the next boys' history, and extractions. When he reached our class, the entire class would fall silent and the teacher would call out the name of the next 'victim' to go to have his teeth examined and most likely extracted if there was rotting or something wrong with their teeth. 

The tension was palpable, made worse with the antiseptic from the injection the previous boy had coming from his mouth. 40 boys would wait with dread until the teacher called out the next victim's name, the boy who kena (got) called would grimace, while the rest of the 39 boys would heave an audible sigh of reliet ! 

On looking back, I think this was the most hilarious experience of my Primary School days at St Andrew's School ! 

Carpe Diem !