Liver – Live or Let Die

Goh Bang Rui
theridge
A NUSSU Publication

When the simple two-syllable word “liver” enters your hearing zone , you will most probably start to imagine vivid images of the livers in human bodies or perhaps how amazing our homo sapiens’ livers can regenerate after being intoxicated and ravaged by our incessant alcoholic abuse. Then again, if you are to cease the wild imagination for a moment, perhaps the idea of liver being a tantalizing food item may appear momentarily in our minds. Does the exquisite dish “Foie Gras” or “Fat Liver” in French strike a chord? Perhaps. Maybe. How about an even more common item like cod liver oil? I believe most of you out there do at a certain point consume this dietary supplement.

Well, unknowingly, animals’ livers have been silently integrated into our daily consumption habits. Animals’ livers are rich in iron and vitamin A. As we know it, it may not been obvious when we are selecting our dishes to fill our ever-hungry stomachs in between the never-ending lessons. However, if NUS decides to bring in the famous dish “Foie Gras” into our canteens, will it be well received? Let us hear from some of our students.

Nazeehah Taib, Year 1 Student of Faculty Arts of Social Sciences

“I would try it, just to get the taste of it. If it’s nice, maybe I’ll continue buying it.”

Toh Jia Yi, Year 1 Student of Faculty Arts of Social Sciences

“The price must be right, around 5 to 6 dollars. If it’s too pricey, students may not be able to afford it and will deter them from patronizing the store.”

Well, from the welcoming responses so far, it seems perhaps the awaited delicacy may be an option to consider for our lovely vendors in NUS canteens. However, another point worthy of concern is perhaps the economical feasibility of the “fat liver”. Imagine us as paying customers forking out the Singapore green bills, yet tasting only miserable dwarf pieces of the legendary Foie Gras. I can safely assure you that it is for certain this experience is to be concluded as an one-off event, never to be repeated. Thus, to balance portion size and price scale is another feat to be taken up with caution.

So, it is true that humans do eat almost everything ranging from the fishes’ livers, especially the more common cods, to even that of a polar bear. Fancy me eating a polar bear’s liver. How exotic will that be? I can already picture the rise in blood pressure from the animal activists who manage to glance at this article. But fear not, before I even attempt to feed a tiny piece of the gigantic size liver into my mouth, I have to consider this troubling fact. As I have mentioned earlier, animals’ livers are rich in iron and vitamin A. However, we homo sapiens also need to moderate our intake of vitamins and iron. Consumption of the exotic polar bear’s liver may very well lead to my unfortunate death. Why so? Polar bear’s liver contains an exceedingly high amount of vitamin A. When consumed by the human body, the large dosage of vitamin A will turn out to be deadly or even lethal, leading to a severe disorder named hypervitaminosis A. Distinct signs of this acute toxicity include nausea and vomiting, headache, dizziness, blurred vision, loss of muscular coordination and death in severe cases… As such, shall I proceed to consume this seemingly delicious delicacy? Perhaps not then since I do want to live longer than that ill-fated polar bear.

Thus, livers can be a fantastic dish that drives people nuts over it or can be a seemingly innocent poison that shortens our very lifespan. So next time, you come across a familiar dish that resembles an animal’s liver, maybe you should check the nutrition facts of the dish before placing that juicy piece of morsel into the mouth.

Shape-shifting Singapore

Helen Victoria Scida | helenvs@nus.edu.sg
the ridge outspoken
A NUSSU Publication

Change. It’s going to happen.

Loki, the Norse god of mischief and a legendary shape-shifter, inevitably reminds me of Singapore’s whirlwind of shapes from a fishing village to a cosmopolitan city in just decades. Taking a step back and looking at her on the world stage, she is a prolific shape-shifter; changing from a third to first world country in years within independence, with huge demographic evolutions in literacy, life expectancy and much more. Some might argue that the Singapore of today resembles little, if nothing, of the Singapore of yesteryears. A letter to the Straits Times Forum on the 25th of February remarked how little the author ‘recognised’ Singapore; how so many places had changed so much that for many older Singaporeans they are living now in a country more or less alien to them. Gone are the little ‘mama’ shops to be replaced by huge supermarkets; gone are the wide-open fields to be replaced by yet more HDB blocks; even our grand National Stadium isn’t good enough anymore.

Why this thirst for constant change and revamp? Everywhere, we see construction being carried out – the Public Works Department [tellingly satirized by Singaporeans as ‘Purposely Want to Dig’] sign is ubiquitous. HDB upgrading, estate redevelopment, heritage site renovation, road works, drain works, everything works – sometimes you wonder how Singaporeans ever managed to get by without lifts stopping at every floor, non-air conditioned buses and only one political party. Oh, wait.

But it is inevitable – change comes to every shore no matter how long we might want to hold it off. And Singapore has never shied away from change, and for the most part it has been to its benefit. Without embracing change, we would all probably still be living in kampungs; but here comes the rub – is it change we needed? Would living in kampungs be all that bad? Riding on non-air conditioned buses? Those buses wouldn’t have TV mobil, at the very least. Maybe we must reconsider, especially on the last point.

Have unavoidable evils accompanied change? For example, eradicating kampungs meant better and more hygienic living, but it also meant the breaking up of people into HDB estates. From all the reports in the news [and personal experience, sadly] neighbours are not so much the people who have grown up with you and whose kids play with yours in the compound behind your houses, but the people you fight with over corridor space and spy on through the peephole of your door. Have we lost our kampung spirit to individualism, economic competitiveness and the continual striving to keep up with changes in the world outside Singapore?

Some changes have taken Singapore by storm – the decision to build casinos after years of condemning gambling was one of them. Another was the decision to allow homosexuals into the civil service as well as the public acknowledgement that while homosexual sex would remain a punishable act under law, that law would not be an active one. The latter can only be a good change, and possibly also a precursor to one day actually legalising not only homosexual practices but also same-sex unions. Anything that makes Singapore more open and inclusive can only be a good thing as we reap the benefits from being a more mature and diverse society.

While the effects of the casinos will only be seen once they are completed and open for business, some are already predicting dire impacts on society. I don’t see why everybody’s in a flap. It’s not like Singaporeans haven’t been gambling since 1819, and possibly earlier. We will meet this challenge favourably, and it may be also a valuable eye-opener for those of us who have sheltered too long under Singapore’s squeaky-clean image.

Change – it’s going to happen. You have to lose some to gain some, right? While some of us may bemoan what we have lost, here is what we have gained – an enviable standard of living, better opportunities in life, and worldwide respect for how far we have come in so little time. But yet, not forgetting where we come from and the people who may be left behind in our race to embrace and implement change. As the byword of the Obama campaign testifies, change can and should be a positive thing, and we should make sure that it stays that way.

Tags: singapore, change, loki
Categories: the ridge, outspoken

NUS Deviants

Mallika | mallika.d@gmail.com
the ridge outspoken
A NUSSU Publication

Photo: deviantart.com

In NUS, deviance is the norm and normality is deviant. Instead of walking up a flight of stairs, we all cram into one greenhouse handicap elevator to take us up one storey. Why bother with simple things like staircases when you can wait in line and get into an elevator where you can literally smell the sweat on each other? NUS students redefine and value comfort.

The limited number of discussion rooms in the central library has never stood in the way of our students. There are only about eight rooms, and they are usually occupied. So instead of finding another comfortable place to discuss group projects, several students cram into those phone booths where you go to talk on your mobile phone to avoid making a noise in the deathly silence of the 6th floor. Here you have about five people squeezing into a tiny 2m x 1.5m cubicle whispering about their projects as they sit piled up one on top of another. Creative, is it not?

Some of our students are also too attached to campus to leave, literally. Either they are taking on the night-watch duty at the central forum for the bazaars or they fall asleep in the department room while working on assignments, rushing a last-minute deadline. One male student, sleeping over in the Playroom at Communications and New Media, literally made himself a personalized cozy corner with his toothbrush, pillow and alarm clock.

Besides being dedicated, NUS students are highly competitive. So much so that when working on a research project where everyone has the same topic, students actually find relevant books and hide them all over the Central Library. Working together and pooling resources might be the conventional approach, but NUS students innovate to get ahead, leaving the rest behind. We do apologize to the librarians who have to clean up after us.

Down at the ‘Dungeon’, we witness outright rebellion from our daredevil smokers. The ‘Dungeon’ is a part of the NUS jurisdiction, and hence smoking is banned there as well, but students continue to smoke right in front of the “No Smoking” sign. It has also come to my notice that NUS rooftops are also popular hot spots for smokers. On top of that (excuse the pun), rooftops cater to passionate lovers and their make-out sessions as well. Steamy!

And then, there are the less outright violations of norms. Take for example the never-ending line at the Yong Tau Fu stall at The Deck. As I was observing on a hot sunny day at noon, a student stood in the first line, picked her ingredients, gave it to the person at the stall and instead of getting into the second line, she surprised me by walking over to the drinks stall and buying a drink. She then went back to her table of friends to join in the conversation and just as it was her turn to pay and pick up her food at the Yong Tau Fu stall, she ran back to the second line. Might as well squeeze in some time to socialize while waiting for your food, right? After all, the Yong Tau Fu stall line is eternally long and time is of immense value at NUS.

Students sending SMS to their friends two seats away during lecture is another cause for amusement. “Lect so boring lah,” “I knw man!Wat u doing later?wnt 2 get din?” The way we see it, our phones are still on silent so “can lah!”

Who said Singaporeans are conformists? NUS students are unique in the real sense of the word. So if you see any of us putting up tents on campus or spending precious time displacing sought-out books in the library, do not be surprised. We may not stage protests, shoot at random college mates or walk around campus will full-body tattoos, but we have found our own niche in deviance.

Handle With Care

Carina Cassandra L. Calugcug
the ridge outspoken
A NUSSU Publication

When I did a quick internet search on the state of orphans in Singapore, I wondered why it revealed very little substantial information. After an interview with Anne (not her real name), who has worked in a children’s home before, I realized why I was getting precious little. ”There are not really many orphans in Singapore, so orphanages are uncommon, “Anne says. “What we do have are children’s homes.”

But if there are not many cases of orphans who have no other family, who then, are the children in these homes? Anne reveals that most of the kids come from troubled families—children for whom the family is no longer a safe place. Some are those whose parents or guardians are incapable of taking care of them; some are abandoned children. Others are those who are beyond parental control or have had a run-in with the law.

When child abuse cases are reported (physical and sexual abuse, neglect, and emotional and psychological abuse), the Ministry of Community Development, Youth and Sports (MCYS), the leading agency against child abuse, conducts investigations. After deliberation, MCYS places the children in a care programme. In some cases, the children are placed into homes run by religious institutions. Some stay for months, others for years. The few orphans in these homes usually stay as residents, but may eventually move on to other institutions so that they are with their respective age groups.

The services that institutions offer differ, depending on the different age groups and problem areas that each home focuses on. Some provide educational services,  enrichment courses in music and art, and self-help skills development, amongst many others. Homes that cater to troubled teens and to teenage pregnancies have rehabilitation programmes and crisis pregnancy units, respectively. A service common to all these institutions is individual and parental counseling. These counseling services aim to help the child integrate back with the family, as well as educate the parents about the child’s needs. But while their services vary in detail and implementation, these organizations share a common mission—to provide a protective environment for children and to show them that every child is wanted.

Anne acknowledges that working in a children’s home can be physically and emotionally taxing. The load is compounded when the children act up and show behavioral problems. Anne believes that the only way to help them heal is to really love them, as many of them have been deeply hurt in their homes. “We need to have a high level of acceptance and a low level of expectation”, she says.

The homes get many volunteers, including students, but Anne comments that most of them are ad-hoc visits. While these, too, are welcome, most institutions prefer volunteers who can commit for an extended period of time. Anne also believes that there is still much room for improvement in creating awareness on the plight of abused and neglected children in Singapore and cultivating the spirit of volunteerism in the society.

Homemakers Don’t Make History

Kokila Annamalai | kokila.annamalai@gmail.com
the ridge outspoken
A NUSSU Publication

Photo: amandapandamonium.deviantart.com

Everything in our official literature and our society’s perspectives will have us believe that the ideal, successful woman is one who manages to be a good wife, mother and worker. Our politicians reiterate that well-educated women should contribute to rearing economically lucrative members of tomorrow’s society while being productive elements of Singapore’s current workforce. But even extended childcare leave policies and campaign slogans such as “Children, life would be empty without them” have not worked to substantially increase the marriage and fertility rate in the country.

The government finds the educated woman’s reluctance to marry and have children problematic, mainly because of Uncle Harry’s preoccupation with eugenics. To the contrary, though, a significant portion of society champions the independent, career-oriented woman – the woman who makes no compromises, the woman who is too talented, too capable, to be a homemaker. Men find her unattainably desirable, and women idealize her position and the power it attracts. She is their torch-bearer, as she symbolizes the catching up women have done to men in the economy. She is the woman who can take care of herself, who does not need to depend on a man, who is her own person. Her identity does not come from being someone’s wife or someone’s mother, but from being herself.

Studies have shown that in our society, tertiary-educated women in professional positions are quickest to reject marriage and homemaking roles. Women who have “made it” are too good to be mere homemakers. The role of the homemaker is for poor, uneducated women. The government encourages women from such backgrounds to stay at home with their children full-time. “It is alright, the economy can do without you”, is the clear message they are sent.

This situation brings us to the question of what gender equality and feminism mean to us. It appears that proponents of egalitarianism have not instated that women should be considered equals to men and given credit for the roles they play in society. Rather gender equality has come to mean that women who are good enough to be on a level playing field with men are those women who have been able to take on professional roles on top of their traditional roles, or those women who have rejected their traditional roles in pursuit of their careers. Men, however, are not expected to perform the dual role of worker and homemaker to be considered successful.

It seems laughable that this is what we call equality; because now, the woman who embraces the role of the homemaker is not only inferior to men, but also inferior to other women who have chosen to work. This must be considered as degeneration rather than as progress, as we have failed to fight for equal treatment and recognition for the roles women played, but rather, women have left those very roles behind to achieve equal status.

Populist images of success that are created by the government and the market pervade our notions of what productivity and contribution to society is. Mothers and wives are invaluable members of any family, community or nation. They are non-profit workers in society who are a step above non-profit organizations, as they do not receive admiration by society or national awards for their selfless service and giving of themselves. They should not have to do any more than that to be perceived as being on the same plane as professional women. Homemakers are unpaid workers, and it is very plausible that they are equally or exceedingly efficient in their roles when compared to working women. Working in the market should not be a requirement for these women to be viewed as successful.

It is a huge achievement for society that today women can be doctors, CEOs and members of parliament. Feminists have fought long and hard for such progress in thought and practice, and there is a lot to be proud of. However, equality is not only the opportunity to perform the roles that we were once deemed unsuitable for; equality is also the freedom to choose to perform the same roles we used to and receive due acknowledgment for it.

The profile that comes to mind once the term ‘homemaker’ is mentioned is one of a woman who is lowly educated, traditional and unworldly, amongst others. These notions have to be dispelled for women to enjoy true freedom. We will be trapped in a society where men and women will never be equals as long as roles that are traditionally associated with femininity are considered secondary to roles traditionally associated with masculinity. Liberation of women in the true sense of the term will come about only when they can proudly claim that they are homemakers and be appreciated for that, without any judgment on their qualifications or achievements that render them inferior to women in the workforce.

Primal Instincts

Kokila Annamalai | kokila.annamalai@gmail.com
the ridge outspoken
A NUSSU Publication

Photo: www.artlex.com

Edith Hamilton said about Apollo that “Two ideas were fighting in him as in all the gods; a primitive, crude idea and one that was beautiful and poetic”. Apollo was a patron of music and the arts; he was the god of wisdom and healing. But he was also unforgiving, even brutal. In love especially, his pursuits were seldom graceful and often beastly. It is rather interesting that one of the most important of the Olympian deities was portrayed as embodying such duality. Regardless of his reputation as a violent, promiscuous god, Apollo was both revered and loved. His primal expressions were considered natural, not vulgar. The concept of a less-than-ideal but accepted god is refreshing and foreign in a world that is increasingly judgmental, increasingly mechanical. It is no wonder that gods such as Apollo have no place in religion and society today, as he is too real, too human, to be venerated.

In a society where rationality is emphasized and letting your feelings, instead of your intellect, guide your actions is frowned upon, we often take for granted the ideal that the capitalist society tends to promote – working efficiently for maximum productivity. Hardly anyone questions why emotions have to take a second place in our lives centred on competition and making it big, at any cost. Passion and adventure have taken a backseat to our efforts at living up to the notions of success as defined by the state and economy.

Apollo’s love affairs are notorious in mythology. Apollo had many lovers, both male and female. The stories of his romantic quests speak of love and sacrifice, but also lust and revenge. Apollo may not be an apt role model for lovers, but the traits that made him legendary as a lover are ones that call for some reflection. Even when the nymph Daphne rejected his love and turned herself into a tree so that Apollo could not pursue her, he tended to her as his tree and used his powers of eternal youth to keep her evergreen. He sought the objects of his affections tirelessly, however daunting their rejection was; he was not ashamed to indulge in and express his desires; and he was spirited and passionate as a lover. Within and outside of context, these are traits that are dying in society today.

As a way of life, we are taught to be down-to-earth, to control our emotions and desires. In most societal circles, the fantastical are not appreciated; the radical are not supported. Lust is vulgar, because it is primal. Letting your anger get the better of you is weak, because emotions are second-rate. It is unrefined to say whatever comes to mind, it is primitive to express your natural impulses. We come from a tailor-made world, where how to eat, how to sit, how to walk and how to talk are all learned. There are rules for everything, and you have to live up. If you do not, then well, you will not make it – socially or economically. Because there are no mythological gods to defend your case.

Apollo had his share of faults. Violence and sexual preoccupation were not his proudest moments, and are not traits that any society, at any period, advocates. He was, in some ways, an example of what not to be like, as people learned from the mistakes their gods made. But Apollo represents something people at the time found important – balance. Balance between the refined and the primal, between work and play, between duties and desires. And that is something that may very well be missing in our lives, to the extent that recreational and relaxing situations need to be simulated to de-stress the over-worked employee of today. Psychologists and counsellors have better business than ever; and stress management courses can afford to charge exorbitant rates for their services.

The Greek god of truth, archery and poetry has an important message to share. The importance of our desires, instincts and emotions are often underplayed, as they are a hindrance to the economic prosperity that capitalism endorses. As a result, we run the risk of turning into two-dimensional people. Most of human nature is designed and cultivated to the extent that formulated ideals have been internalized as natural. But yet, in each of us, there are certain primal motivations. It is ignorance to indulge all of them; but to exercise that part of us at times, to give it expression, may not be such a crime after all.