Speaking to some of the participants, I learnt that it was not too long ago in the 70s and 80s that toilets were outhouses or the river. I couldn’t help comparing these with the three flushable toilets in my grandfather’s house in Kampar, a small-town in Perak, which he built in the sixties. My grandfather was not a rich man, but I’m sure the ensuites would have been considered a luxury back then.

But more unimaginable were chamber pots.

“Forty-five years ago, we’d have to take the swill out for collection by a swill collector,” said Ms Rita Chua, 50, who submitted a photo taken by her father of a seawater swimming pool.

“We’d have the waste collector come and empty the waste from the latrines. My sisters and I would run and take cover when we hear the clanging of the waste collector truck,” she added.

Third prize-winner, Ms Joanne Yeo, 49, recounts how, the water pressure in the bathroom of the Clarke Quay shophouse her family shared with seven families, was so low, they would have to take turns to shout to each other not to turn on the tap when one was using the bathroom.

If you wanted to take a hot shower, you’d  have to put wood or charcoal and boil it was the common refrain.

Life was a lot simpler, another refrain, but all this point toward how far Singapore has come.  Today, we not only enjoy but afford modern conveniences like fans, air-conditioning and water heaters.  Episodes of kampong living, chasing after chickens, climbing fruit trees, sprinting from the main road to the house because there weren’t any streetlights -  all seem very cute and nostalgic – and should remain so, because I don’t think many of us want to (or can’t) go back to that standard of living.

 “I checked myself into KK when I felt my stomach was too big,” she said. She had to have a  Caesarean each time.

Hers was one of the more startling anecdotes I came across while researching for my story “It’s not always easy” about broken or dysfunctional families.   

It was a humbling experience speaking to people who get by on less than $500 a month. Some of them live in a rental flat, others in a shelter.   Then there are others who stay with their family members in a three or four-room flat, straining fractured relationships even further.

How do they do it?  Especially if they have children in tow?

Well, something has to give.  In Mary’s case, it’s her health – she looks anaemic. 

Mary has just one meal a day so that she feed her three kids. Besides her two sons, she also has a 14-year-old daughter from an earlier liaison.  

But there is a ray of hope.  Mary has started working as a telemarketer.

She speaks English well and is quite articulate just like the other single parent in my story, Jack. You get a sense that these people haven’t had the opportunity to develop their potential, partly because life had dealt them some bad cards and also because they made some unwise choices of their own.

Still, there is hope that their children can break from this cycle of poverty.

Take for instance, Mary’s daughter – despite living in a one-room rental flat with four other family members – the 14-year-old is smart enough to get into a mission school in the east.  Her grades are average and who knows what they might have been with a different home environment?   Mary lives in a shelter because her mother kicked her out of the flat.

“She said there was no space for me,” said Mary.

Recently, Mary’s three-year-old has been bugging her to send him to school.

“When he sees other kids going to school, he wants to go too,” she said.

The problem is, she  needs $100 to register him in a child care centre near the shelter where she is currently staying.  She also needs money to buy him shoes and a school bag.

When I heard that,  I think about the $200 bill I recently racked up when I was feeling down – I had splurged on a bag, necklace and matching ear rings.   

Mary’s troubles and others like hers really put mine in perspective.  What about yours?

Some stated that the Old Guard behaviour was hooliganism and tantamount to bullying.

One account described the then-Exco as reacting with calm and grace – albeit with one, by now well-known, outburst — after being “harassed” and “blocked at every turn.”

Personally, the meeting was certainly an eye-opener, and even shocking. I was not prepared for what I experienced.

I entered the meeting shortly after it started, in the midst of loud clapping and booing. It was just minutes before the “shut up and sit down” statement was made, followed by even more cries of indignation.

The loud, unabashed, blatant outpouring of emotions honestly felt like an assault on my senses. Anger, passion and tension were more than tangible in the air.

I was brought up to stay calm and discuss problems amicably. This meeting, to me, was scary.

It took time for me to get used to furore and for the swell of emotions to fade into the background of noteworthy arguments and concerns – together, unfortunately, with uncalled for catty remarks.

I wonder how many others present felt the same way.

I imagine, for the average woman-on-the-street who signed up out of curiosity, the mother or father who came to find out more about Aware’s Comprehensive Sexuality Education programme, the proceedings of the near 8-hour meeting could have been way more than they bargained for.

But there is a difference between being thrust into a shocking situation, and viewing it as wrong.

Hopefully, those displeased with turn of events do not feel so just because the actions of the Old Guard and their supporters were incomprehensible to them.

“No thanks.”

I could be too sensitive, but – after my rejection – she looked crossed, shaking he head slightly and dimming her eyes.

She made the entry stamp on my flight ticket instead.

Cathy, another Singaporean in my group, was not so lucky. She forgot to tell the officer not to stamp on her passport, and got an Israeli Star of David imprint on her passport instead. 

On the way to collect our bags, Cathy groaned, saying she would have to get a new passport if she wanted to continue visiting certain Southeast Asian countries.

Passports bearing Israeli stamps have been rumoured to attract questions in countries hostile to the small Jewish state and could result in lengthy interviews by authorities, explained Ismail, another member of our group.

In some cases, he added, people have been turned back.

It sounds like a conspiracy theory, but I have heard this rumour several times.

But how do we confirm this is true? I made a mental note to remember to ask Cathy another time if she has problems entering those countries with her passport.

I was in the Middle East to cover Mercy Relief’s handover of donated items to families in Gaza, and at Ben Gurion Airport, the questions were reciprocated, this time to Ismail.

Because of his Muslim-sounding name – and because he was carrying a passport bearing stamps from Islamic countries like Yemen and Egypt due to his work for a humanitarian agency – Ismail was kept in an interview room for more than two hours. Two other Muslim members of our group were also interviewed.

The trio were asked strange questions, including their fathers’ and grandfathers’ names. Despite the seemingly irrelevant questions, the three Singaporeans took their interviews good naturedly and we proceeded on our trip.

The Israelis have good reason to be paranoid.

For decades, they have been targeted – by terrorism at worst, and anti-Semitic vitriol at best.

It is no wonder why the Israeli government take pains to protect their citizens worldwide.

Before my flight to Tel Aviv, the screening started thousands of miles away at Bangkok airport, where our El-Al jet (the Israeli flag carrier) took off.

All non-Israeli passengers were grilled by Israeli embassy staff about their purpose of visit, if they had packed their own bags or whether their luggage could contain anything that could be an explosive device - questions that were asked to unsettle terrorists and expose them. As a precaution, some of our bags were also checked in a holding room one last time before flight.

The checks are neccessary.

El-Al ticket counters in Europe have been attacked by terrorists before, and in 2002, there was an attempted hijacking by an Israeli-Arab on flight from Tel Aviv to Istanbul.

The 12-hour flight to Israel was uncomfortable in my economy class seat that didn’t have a personal entertainment system. But I was very sure of one thing. The plane wasn’t going to blow up in mid air because of some security lapse. I felt safe.

I also got to know some of the participants.  There was Mr Cher, 48, who used to own a metal parts business.He tells me that his daughter is studying at RJC, but ever since he wound up his business some months ago, she has refused to talk to him. 

“She communicates with me by writing notes and leaving them around the house,” he said. 

Then there’s 55-year-old Mr Ang who, after 30 years of working in the kitchen, now finds lifting woks heavy going, and hopes to drive a bus.  A wiry man and just 1.5m tall, Mr Ang is very modest and thinks his English is bad, but actually it isn’t as bad he makes it out to be.  He just needs confidence and more practice.

There’s Juwina, 44, who used to be a personal driver. Her husband and two teenage kids can’t wait for her to drive a bus. “They support me fully.  They’re really excited and ask me everyday when I’m going to become a bus driver.”

The one thing that struck me most was how unafraid they were about exposing their curious minds.

Here was a group of people, who, with just secondary education, could put some tertiary students to shame. 

Whether it was a lecture-setting or a classroom workshop, they readily asked questions without being prompted by the trainer, the amiable Mr Joshua Leong from NTUC Learning Hub.

Take for example the topic of what to include in your resume.  Some said you should only put down relevant job experience, those that relate to the job that you’re applying for.  

Others said that wouldn’t work if you’re applying for a job that you have not done before, like going from being a cook of 20 years to becoming a bus driver – there’ll be a huge gap or gaps in your employment history. 

That’s ok, say some, you just have to be prepared to explain the gaps. It’s more important to highlight your strengths or transferable skills from your previous employment than list chronologically your employment history, they added.

That’s what I call interactive – unlike some tertiary classes where the tutor has go down a list to get a discussion going because the students are so self-conscious that they rather be mute than offer an opinion.

Her 46-year-old husband had a stroke last year and is currently being cared for at the centre.  

Mr Loh is not in a good condition, as he is barely able to feed or clean himself. He can hardly speak, and is just beginning to understand what is being said to him.

Mrs Loh drops him off at the centre every morning with their maid – paid for by Mr Loh’s sister – and heads off to work.

She is a beautician, and her monthly income of $1,500 goes to feeding the family of three (they have a 10-year-old daughter) and paying the bills.

Choking up, Mrs Loh described how lost she felt when her husband had the stroke. What made it even worse?

Some of Mr Loh’s family members hinted to her that they half-expected her to leave him. Why?

Because she is a Chinese national, 10 years younger than her husband whom she met in Beijing.

With the ‘China Bride’ stereotype and stories abounding of foreign women who want to marry a Singaporean man just for his citizenship, perhaps they can’t be blamed for thinking so?

But  the couple have been married for more than 10 years. Didn’t that count for something?

In her soft-spoken manner, Mrs Loh described going to her MP for help. She is very grateful for the help provided by the day care centre, she said. For one, through various subsidy schemes, she pays $110 a month, instead of $520. The centre also made the exception to care for Mr Loh, when the norm is to take in those above 55-years-old.

She is glad that Mr Loh is improving. Her hope: one day he will be able to talk again with her and their daughter.

Dither and you’ll lose your spot, especially if you’re a woman – places at speed dating events go fast as I found out while researching for my Valentine’s Day assignment.  One was cancelled because of gender imbalance (not enough men had signed up) and, the other only had a few vacancies for men as all the places for women had been taken up. 

An industry source told me that sometimes, to make up the numbers, the organiser would ring up guys in his database, throwing in a freebie or a discount on the ticket price.

When told this, my two eligible male friends were both surprised. “I would have thought there would have been more men,” said Jon. “All this points to women being desperate,” I said.  Well, maybe, not overtly, but subconsciously.

Those I asked in the dating industry did not want to confirm this, but Andrew Chow from Ardor, and Kelvin Ong from SinglesMingle, did come up with a good explanation. 

Places for women get filled up faster because women tend to bring along a friend, or go in groups, whereas men don’t.  Also more women in their 20s are turning up for singles event because there is no longer a stigma.

Men, on the other hand, ” want to be sure about something”, said Andrew, explaining how the male mind works. “They won’t invest if they can’t see tangible results. Women are more  open – they don’t mind paying $30 to $40 to go to an event not know for sure whether they’ll meet someone they like, ” he said.

Kelvin Ong , director of Singles Mingle, who is also marriage solemniser, agrees.

“Some men want to make sure they have ample opportunities to meet women, and so may ask about the number of women enrolled or even the age range, before committing to an event.

“On the other hand, most women don’t mind making friends with other women at a particular event,” he said. 

True, but it also means more competition among women – good for Mars, but bad for Venus.

Anyone at Block 462 who knew about Mr Ng Kim Ngweng – the man charged with threatening MP Denise Phua - had a different opinion of him.

One neighbour said he is “an odd ball” who couldn’t fit into the crowd, while another said he is just simply “harmless”. There were tales of him sitting all day along the corridor reading newspapers and littering peanut shells onto the floor, but others said Mr Ng helped grew potted plants which he later gave away.

I encountered a similar claim when I interviewed a maid who gave birth in Singapore.  The routine pregnancy test she took in October turned out negative, but on 11 Dec, Nina gave birth to a baby boy she had been carrying for 27 weeks. (“The Test That Failed” Today Dec 23 )

When I asked her how she got pregnant, Nina was too dumbstruck to answer, she kept saying “I don’t know, I don’t know how.”  I switched tack and asked her about her Malaysian boyfriend. Nina told me she met Jai sometime in January last year and within weeks he proposed to her, promising her that they would get married in Dec 2008.

When I asked her whether they had used contraception during sex, Nina said no. I asked her why and she replied: “My boyfriend said that even if I got pregnant, I would still marry him, since we already agree to marry in December.”

Nina tells me that she doesn’t know the full and real name of the father of her baby and that she can’t contact him because he has changed his mobile number.

The social worker and I were floored. Was this 26-year-old so naïve? How could she be so taken in by sweet words? Not only that, did she know that she was putting herself at risk at catching sexually transmitted infections (STI), including HIV and Aids? 

It has lead me to think that despite the good work that migrant welfare groups like HOME and TWC2 have done for foreign domestic workers and foreign workers, perhaps these organisations should come up with a safe sex campaign for maids not just for preventing pregnancies, but also HIV/Aids and STIs, and make it part of their regular outreach work.