I grew up in a warm, tropical sunny Singapore with a cool December breeze, durian trees, a canal to catch fish and tadpoles, and green foilage surrounding me.

I wasn't very good at mandarin in primary school. The mandarin teacher used to whack our hands with a white painted ruler if we forgot our homework, daydreamt, or failed to answer her correctly.

I spent many classes sitting on my hands to reduce the pain after getting hit. I remember the relief one day when the teacher couldn't find her ruler and I was due a belting. This relief turned to dismay as a goody-two-shoe girl who sat near the front offered her very own ruler to the teacher.

I did enjoy primary school breaks though. A whole bowl of sticky noodles was 40 cents, and on lucky days where I got enough pocket money, I could get a single chicken wing or sausage for 60 cents! We spent the afternoons kicking a can around a dilipidated field in the back of the school, behind the chicken pen. On days that the ringleader brought a soccer ball to school, we all got quite excited, as we could have a real game. He got to pick who played though.

My parents spent the savings to migrate to Australia mid-way through my primary schooling, my mother attributes this need due to my poor mandarin skills and fear for my future as a dropkick; but I'd like to think it was because my sister got a scholarship after aceing an examination for schooling in Melbourne, she was and still is the brains.

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