It takes a man to teach a woman to be sensual

Yesterday I was moving along to the latin music, trying really hard to keep up with Erich's moves, now my weekly Monday routine. He always seems to be moving at double-time, and I always feel like I am playing catch-up.

I look really clumsy, so I hardly even look at myself in the mirror when I am doing zumba. By now, I have come to accept my own clumsiness. I just focus on Erich, and try my hardest to even manage a fraction of his moves.

When there were some slow numbers, I was glad to finally get a breather (sort-of). That was when Erich started with his more "sensual" moves. Hand across shoulders, across hips, body roll, hip rotation. I was following his moves, looking at him, catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror and I went "oh my god!"

It suddenly occurred to me that he is WAY MORE sensual and WAY MORE graceful than I am. It is so funny that something that is supposed to be innate in women is so much more pronounced in a man. Urgh! I will try harder!!!

But till then, I will have to try harder at playing catch up and do a decent job with the routine, before even speaking of grace and sensuality.

Suburban encounters 2

I was circling the food centre for the second time, balancing my yam cake in hand when I gave up and decided to join 2 aunties at a round table.

I asked if I could take a seat and they both nodded at me and smile. The elderly lady and the auntie were speaking in Teochew, and the elderly lady was talking about her children and grandchildren.

Thinking I was in the dark, the auntie tried to translate what the elderly lady was saying. I attempted to make some remarks in Teochew, so as not to appear rude and to show that I could really handle some basic Teochew.

The auntie then said she had lost her keys around here and came back here to collect it. She stays at Lorong 4. Feeling that I should perhaps share some information too, I told her that I was here to see a doctor.

It's interesting to catch snippets of a stranger's life in the most unlikely setting, at a food centre. It's a little like intruding, but at the same time, it hardly appears so, since they were both so willing to share this snippet of their lives with me.

The elderly lady soon had to go, and she left. And that is when I realised that the two ladies were strangers too, that is, before they both sat down and decided to have coffee with a stranger.

In this lazy, laid-back Saturday morning, sharing a table with strangers and sharing a little about your life seems a natural thing to do.

Talking about the "chope-ing syndrome" with friends recently, I remain largely unconvinced that "reserving" a seat with a packet of tissue paper is acceptable. In fact, I would debunk it anytime by sitting at a table reserved with tissue paper, as long as I do not risk being beaten up by hungry and angry people.

Perhaps this is all, that people should simply get used to sitting and eating with strangers. I was really surprised by what a pleasant experience it is, although I am not sure if it would yield the same pleasant experience with the on-the-go Shenton way crowd.

Suburban encounters

I was back at the satay stall again as I had waited for ages and am still waiting to sink my teeth into the chicken satay. "You're next," the hawker said when I appeared again in front of her, announcing my table number.

I waited for my 10 satay and finally she handed it to me. 10 satay in a very small styrofoam plate with a small bowl of peanut sauce balanced on the same plate. I was looking at the satay intently and walking away when the auntie said to me “xiao mei, look at the way you are going, not at the satay!"

I giggled. I got reduced to a small girl in that very instance. No where else would a 33-year-old be referred to as "xiao mei" other than in a hawker centre or in a wet market. And her advice was so matter-of-fact and blunt and yet so heartwarming and packed with humour.

Earlier when I was at the MRT station, I went to the station control and asked the staff which is the nearest exit to the hawker centre. The staff said," oh, old kallang airport is it? I just had my dinner there'. His colleague beside him laughed.

Then he flashed a big smile and said, "Exit A, turn right."

I reflected on the MTV of the national day theme song, which I only came across a few days ago. Where on the streets would you find only young people (and of course in a cocktail of different races) who look totally polished and artificially cheerful? Where do you find people who wear pretty dresses at home with full make-up? I think it's about time that ordinary, everyday-people are represented, those who really make up the community in the place we live in.