And what a day.
After a late night of writing, I woke up early to pick up my suit from the dry cleaners before rushing down to Wollman Rink with the guys. We reported to the food i/c and got in position as ushers and crowd regulators, though since we had easy access to the food before the crowds came in, we got breakfast early: kaya toast, prata and murtabak, bah ku teh and chicken rice. Then the lines became insanely long and we waited forever for small servings of carrot cake and laksa. It was ridiculously sunny, almost SG weather, and I hadn’t brought any sunscreen, so now my face and neck are peeling.
Ran into lots of old friends at the place: Nigel from my primary school class, Peishan from my JC class, Mel from AC debate, Yisheng from CAP, Boon leong from YR. Made a lot of new friends too since waiting in line there wasn’t much to do but chat with the people in front of me. I got myself together to talk to the absolute cutest girl in school, which I am rather proud of doing even though I’ve given up on romance, because I should be able to do simple things like that. Met a few ACS alums, who identified themselves by the secret handshake. Dr. Tracy was there to give me health advice.
The entertainment Eric Khoo arranged was pretty good. I think Central Parkers were completely baffled by the ge tai hokkien songs. I really liked the sampler of Singapore musicals, especially the one from Chang & Eng (which perhaps may describe my relationship with my roommate accurately). There was this strange ‘Singapore Dreaming’ parapara-style dance, which was actually very representative of mainstream culture in Singapore. The best bit was when Kit Chan performed Home.
When the Wollman Rink event died down, I made my way to the library at Bryant Park, where the formal dinner was. The organizers assigned me to a table with 2 internal security officers, which was especially ironic since I am probably on several of their dissident lists. We had a good conversation about counterterrorism and corruption in SE Asia. I moved around to different tables to chat with friends also invited to the dinner. The food catered from Goodwood Park and Min Jiang was interesting – they served one of my favorite local desserts, red bean pancakes, with strawberry sauce.
After the formal dinner, we went to Earth, a club in the meatpacking district, for the Mambo party. My knowledge of Zouk-style mambo moves is far less than my appreciation of 80s retro music, a taste for which Grace cultivated in me so long ago. The only song I know all the moves to is Love in the 1st degree. Veteran mamboers Edward and Lionel apparently know *all* the moves to *all* the songs. After they stopped playing mambo songs, the columbia kids left to go to another club, but I decided to go home to sleep.
