I assisted a
distressed Aunty today. She was struggling with several bags laden with groceries
near the entrance to the apartment complex in which I reside and looked as if
she was about to collapse. An 'Aunty' is a term used here in Singapore to
address elderly women. Their male counterparts are 'Uncles'. Such terms are
both courteous and respectful and are as well given as they are received.
The Aunty in question
lives in my apartment building. I have seen her before. She is Singaporean
Chinese. I always say "Good Morning Aunty" or "Good Evening
Aunty" to her as our paths cross in the lift lobby area or in the
apartment complex grounds. She generally smiles back but she rarely speaks. I
am not sure of the Auntie’s age but I would guess that she is at least eighty.
Perhaps older.
I could tell
that the Aunty was distressed as she was gasping and wobbling a bit and had
dropped one of her bags. She looked on the verge of collapse. I saw this from a
distance. I was approaching the complex entrance from behind her and when I saw
her stagger I rushed up to her and took her arm.
"Are
you OK Auntie?" I asked.
With the great
benefit of hindsight this was a silly question. It was obvious that she was
not.
"Gaaaaarn'
she
gasped back at me. This is an approximation of the noise that she made. It is
obviously not a recognizable word in any language.
I took the two
bags that she was still carrying and put them on the ground. The poor old dear
leaned into me. She was breathing heavily and was shaking. We were fortunately
only ten or so meters from the entrance to our complex and I asked her if she
could walk.
"Gaaaaarn' she repeated. Then
she whispered a barely audible "can"
I led her very
slowly up to the security guardhouse. I was hoping for the assistance of the
security guards who are normally posted there. I have written about my battle
with these guys a couple of times before. No matter what time of day or night
it is they are usually asleep at their post.
This time
however there was no-one in the guardhouse. It was empty!
"Fuckers"
I thought to myself. I did not say this of course as it would not have been
appropriate to utter such an obscenity in front of such a sweet little Aunty.
Fortunately
the door to the guardhouse was not locked. I pushed it open and ushered the old
dear inside and I sat her in a chair. She slumped and I told her to wait while
I called for an ambulance. When I pulled out my mobile phone she shook her head
furiously and again said "Gaaaaarn' to me.
"You
don't want me to call a doctor Auntie?" I asked
I received
another furious shake of her head
"I
think I should"
"Gaaaaarn'.
Quite a
loud one this time. It was accompanied by a very insistent shaking of her head.
"OK
wait here then Auntie and I will go and retrieve your shopping. I will be back
in a flash"
I put down my
own laptop bag and ran back out to the street where I quickly packed up the
contents of her spilled shopping and retrieved the two other bags. I noticed
that there were four very large boxes of Essence of Chicken in the bag that had
been spilled.
Essence of
Chicken is a very strange Singaporean substance. I have written about it
before. I wrote about this in a piece that I most unimaginatively titled
"Essence of Chicken". The product is very expensive and is claimed to
boost energy and cognitive powers. Many Singaporeans I know are both listless
and are not deep thinkers so I am not convinced of the benefits of this product.
I suspect that
it may in fact contain the concentrated souls of chickens. It is the only
explanation I can come up with that would justify the price or it's declaration
to be an 'Essence". I immediately wondered to myself whether the
Singaporean Aunty was suffering from an Essence of Chicken overdose.
I had no time
to continue such ponderings though and I raced back to the Security guardhouse.
The Aunty seemed to be breathing a little better now. There was still no sign
of any of the security guards.
"Are
you sure you don't want me to call for a doctor lah Aunty?" I asked again.
I threw a 'lah'
in there because it is a Singaporean thing that I thought might assist her in
relaxing a little
"No lah" she replied
"Is
there anyone at home for you?"
She nodded an
affirmation.
"Can
you walk OK then Aunty? I will take you up to your apartment"
"Can" she replied and she stood
up and took my arm.
I left my
laptop bag and her shopping in the security guards office and the dear little
Aunty took my arm. She clutched it tightly. We walked very slowly to the lifts
and when the lift door opened she pushed the button to level 11. She pushed the
button with a very shaky, wrinkled and gnarled finger. I live on level 6. The
Auntie lives 5 floors above me.
When the lift
door opened on level 11 Aunty guided me to her apartment door. There are only
three apartments on each floor in the building in which we live. I knocked on
the door and it was almost immediately opened by a young Chinese girl. I am
guessing that she would be in her early twenties. I walked Aunty inside where
she sat down in a battered old armchair. She and the young girl immediately
began a conversation in a barrage of Hokkien. This is a Chinese dialect
commonly spoken in Singapore. I couldn't understand a word that they were
saying but it was obvious that the Aunty was giving the girl a tongue lashing.
The girl was
giving Aunty a lashing back.
At one point
she pointed at me and said "Gaaaaarn' again. This
alarmed me somewhat.
After what
seemed like a few minutes of witnessing what was becoming an increasingly
hostile conversation I felt a bit awkward just standing there. So I said,
"Excuse me".
I was addressing the young woman.
"Do
you speak English?"
"Of
course I bloody do" she replied.
"Oh"
was all I
could respond. I was momentarily shocked at both her answer and her demeanor.
"Is
Aunty OK?"
"She
is a stupid old cow." the angry young woman retorted.
"I
always tell her not to go out and do her own shopping but she doesn't listen to
anyone"
"Will
she be alright then?"
"She
will outlive us all." she said bitterly.
"Sorry" she then added.
"Thank
you for bringing her up"
"No
worries" I replied.
"Her
shopping is down in the security guardhouse. I will go and get it for you"
"Thank
you"
she said.
Then she
started launching into the Aunty again in a verbal tirade of Hokkien. As I
walked out of the apartment I could hear the Aunty screeching back. She seemed
to have made a fairly rapid recovery.
I retrieved
the shopping from the guardhouse and took it up to level 11 where the Aunty was
continuing to rant and rave at the young Chinese girl. The girl told me that
her name was Ying and the Aunty was her grandmother. She thanked me for
bringing up the shopping and told me that if I ever saw the old woman
floundering again in the street I should turn around and walk the other way.
I told her
that I would do no such thing but when I went to pat the Aunty on the arm and
say goodbye she made another horrible guttural noise at me and she waved me
away. She was quite rudely dismissive.
"I
told you she was an old bitch" Ying said as she ushered me out the door.
"Too
fucking right" I agreed as I departed.
Then I went
back down to get my laptop bag. There was still no sign of the security guards
I was pretty
pissed off myself now so I marched with purpose to the rear of the building and
to the office of Mr. Tan. He is the Building Manager of the complex in which I
live.
I knocked on
Mr. Tan's door and stormed straight inside.
Mr. Tan had
one foot up on his desk and he was cutting the toenails of his other foot. The
sight of this both shocked and appalled me. As I entered his office Mr. Tan
attempted to leap to stand but he got all tangled up and fell over. However he
sprang quickly to his feet.
"Mr.
Peter"
he said in a most startled fashion. He was sort of hopping around trying to put
the sock back on his bare foot.
"Mr.
Tan"
I said in a very stern voice.
"Please
sit down Mr. Peter" he said.
"I
prefer to stand thank you Mr. Tan" I replied.
I watched with
my arms crossed and had on my very cross face while Mr. Tan replaced his sock
and shoe. I noticed that the sock that he was putting on had a large hole in
it. I assume that the hole was caused by his untrimmed toenails.
When Mr. Tan
had regained both his footwear and composure he offered me his hand to shake.
"You
have just been cutting your toenails Mr. Tan." I advised with a slight
tone of disgust.
"Please
do not take offense but I do not wish to make contact with the hands with which
you have been touching your feet"
"Of
course Mr. Peter" he apologized.
"I am
sorry"
He put then
put both hands behind his back. I do not know why.
"There
is a problem Mr. Tan" I informed him.
"Oh
dear"
he responded.
"Has
Mr. Jens done a doo doo in the pool again?"
"Not
to my knowledge Mr. Tan. However the Security Guards have abandoned their post
and I have had to assist a very distressed Aunty with her shopping and help her
get up to her floor"
"They
are not in the guardhouse?"
"They
are not"
Mr. Tan
immediately picked up his mobile phone. He rang several numbers but there was
no reply.
"This
is most upsetting Mr. Peter"
"It is
unacceptable Mr. Tan. These fuckers are either asleep all the time or they are
not there. The poor Aunty that I assisted could well have died"
I was however
grossly exaggerating this state of affairs but I really was quite annoyed by
the dereliction of duty by the Security guards and the fact that the
not-so-sweet Aunty had caused me some angst.
"I
shall seek them out immediately Mr. Peter"
"Please
do Mr. Tan"
I then went
upstairs to my apartment. As soon as I got there realized to my great annoyance
that I had run out of milk and bread. I was therefore further aggravated that I
had to go back out again. However I was both thirsty and hungry and I
decided that I may as well also pick up some Essence of Chicken. The episode
with the angry Aunty had drained me physically and emotionally and my cognitive
powers can always do with improvement. I am hoping that no great harm will be
caused by consuming small amounts of the powdered form of the concentrated
souls of Singaporean chickens.
So I walked
down to the local shops and on my way there I found the two missing security
guards.
Here they are.
I took a photograph of them:
I rang Mr. Tan
immediately.
"I
have found the fuckers" I informed him.
"Come
and get them"
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