Making Connections

You just never know when a seemingly unimportant circumstance begins a chain of events that leads to a totally unexpected and very significant outcome, often many years later.  It makes you wonder if the outcome is just a starting point for another adventure down the road.  It also makes you appreciate the journey and triggers cherished memories gathered along the way.  And the lessons you learn in reviewing the path are often quite profound.

When my wife and I packed our oldest son up to move away to college twelve years ago, we never realized how far that short three mile trip would become.  Sure, Jason could have lived at home, but Chris and I felt strongly that one of the most important aspects of the college experience is independence.  It prepares young adults for the real world after college, and if you’re lucky, the taste of independence is enough to keep them from returning to the roost.  I affectionately referred to Jason’s last dorm as a halfway house.

While at college, Jason, who had always shown a strong interest and aptitude in languages, decided to pursue Japanese and study the Asian culture.  His studies led him to spend a semester in Japan, and upon graduation, to teach English in Japan for two years under a government sponsored program.  He came home for a few months, but decided to go back and pursue other interests, one of whom he married last spring in a fascinating Shinto wedding ceremony at a shrine in southern Japan.

Soon after Chris and I returned from Jason and Fumi’s wedding, a chance email to a new acquaintance in a global company led to a life-changing opportunity.  I had emailed the person, who knew that I was between engagements, that I was “…back from Japan and rarin’ to go!”  It turned out that an opportunity for a position in Asia had just landed on his desk, and my credentials were just right, so he introduced me to his Asian counterparts.

Before I knew it, I was offered a three to six month assignment in Singapore.  Since I’d never been away from home for more than a couple of weeks, and had never been apart from my wife for more than about a week, the prospect of being away so long was daunting.  I’d also never been out of the US for anything other than vacations.  But the opportunity was tremendous, and as my wife put it, “Well, we’re getting to an age where one of us will most likely wind up living alone, so this will be good practice!”  Now who could argue with that?

So off I flew to Singapore, a land I’d never expected to visit, and about which I knew very little.  While I’d spent my life as a member of the majority, I found myself firmly in the minority…along with several million others.  Fortunately for me, English is one of four official languages, and the population is an incredible blend of global cultures, with strong Asian seasoning.  The Singapore English dialect is an interesting blend of Asian and English pronunciations, with the cadence and staccato of Chinese and the complexity of English with all its homonyms and rules variations.

I’ve learned a little bit of a new language, Singlish, which blends Asian and English words and forms new ones as colloquialisms.  I learned a phrase early from a cab driver – “No catch ball,” which means, “I don’t understand.”  Eventually, I came up with my own term, which I guess makes it Engaporean – “Say ‘gen?” which means, “Please say it again, because I didn’t understand the first time.”  It’s very handy.

I’ve been told that of all the places in Asia to be an ex-patriot, Singapore is the best – it’s referred to as Asia Light.  The Asian cultures and the Western commercial/industrial influences meld into a cauldron that is at once both familiar and nascent.  The high energy level work ethic that results is amazing.  Acknowledging the strong religious elements in the country, Singapore’s holiday calendar recognizes Muslim, Hindu, Buddhist, and Christian holidays.

The time difference between Singapore and the east coast of the US is 12 hours during daylight savings time and 13 hours during standard time, with Singapore being ahead.  It makes it easy to calculate what time it is in either place, but communicating is a bit of a challenge, as finding convenient windows of time for people on both ends, especially for people with busy calendars, can be quite a chore.  It can be fun, though.  I called my wife one day at work, and someone else answered.  I told her that I was Chris’s husband and that I was calling from the future!

There are fewer places on earth where you can feel as safe and secure as you do in Singapore.  Even in the downtown areas, where crowds are commonplace, there is very little concern about crime, and in most small business places, which are everywhere, you clearly feel the honesty and integrity of the proprietors.

Arguably the best way to get around is by mass transit.  For a country of about 275 square miles and 5.5 million inhabitants, the subway/rail system carries about 2.8 million riders per day.  The commercial bus system carries about 3.6 million.  The roadways at rush hour are choked with all types of vehicles, and swarms of “skeeter”cycles drive at full speed between the lanes, dodging mirrors and elbows along the way.

An interesting manifestation of the high population density is the mountainous high rise communities that result, and the foothills of shopping and restaurants that lie at their bases.  With so many people living in a relatively small footprint, there are shopping malls and grocery stores every few blocks.  Although there are crowds and crowded areas, it really doesn’t feel like there are 5.5 million residents plus a large number of daily visitors.  That’s due, in part, to the vertical living arrangements.  But there’s another city underground in some areas.  One day, I went into a shopping mall, and followed signs to more shopping.  Before long, I’d found underground connections to four other shopping malls that I surfaced in, and had traveled about three quarters of a mile alongside the Singapore River in what came to be known as my gopher tour of Singapore.

In one area along the Singapore River, there are probably 500 or more restaurants within a half mile stretch.  The offerings range from Asian to European to Mexican, with common American restaurant and fast food haunts well represented.  An informative sign in Clarke Quay shows a map and a list of its 77 establishments – that’s 75 restaurants and 2 “Other!”

An intriguing aspect of the crowds is that virtually half of all pedestrians seem to be engrossed in their cellphones and oblivious to everything around them, raptly engaged in conversation, texting, game playing, or movie watching, but they somehow seem to make their way without bumping into one another or stepping into harm’s way.  With the dual threat of drivers driving on the left and no apparent pedestrian rights of way, I’ve chosen not to participate in this ritual.

One thing that’s taken some getting used to is the Asian naming convention.  Most Westerners use their family name as the last name in the sequence.  Many Asians use the first name in the sequence as their family name.  In addition, many Asians have a two part personal name.  Adding to the confusion, in the US at least, the family name is referred to as the “last name,” which is contrary to the Asian convention.  The personal name is often referred to as a “given” name, which literally applies to almost every part of a person’s name because someone gave it to them.  A number of Asians, though, have adopted Western names just to make it easier for people like me to figure out what to call them. I thank them for that.  But aside from knowing what to call people, getting them to follow instructions for filling out (or “filling up” as Singaporeans say) US designed forms that require Last Name/First Name or Given Name can be quite a challenge.

I’ve only met a few dozen of the millions I’ve encountered over the past six months, but they’ve been among the kindest and most generous people I’ve met.  Lavish in their praise, and appreciative of the smallest of gestures, they inspire a level of goodwill that, if it’s representative of the entire country, could transform the world.  As my new friends have made me feel at home in Singapore, I hope to have the opportunity to welcome them to my home in the US someday.

The journey has been incredibly interesting and culturally enlightening, and the past six months have taught me so much.  I’ve learned how to fend for myself, how to survive on a diet of chicken nuggets and rice, how to get almost anywhere using mass transit, and how to understand a new language.  I’ve also learned how wonderful people in other parts of the world are, and how surprisingly comfortable you can feel in a foreign land, a lesson my son obviously learned many years ago and passed on to me along with his sense of adventure, in a sort of reverse heredity.  I’ll always cherish the memories I have of Singapore, and hope that I’ve left behind a few good memories of my own.

Oh For the Love of DOG

Travis pranced into our lives over 14 years ago.  His arrival was not without controversy, though, as my family conspired against me to bring a dog home.  I’d grown up with dogs, and while I found them to be great companions, I’d experienced the devastation of losing them at an all too young age, and I also knew how much work they were.  But my sons were at an age where having a dog was both a reward and a responsibility, and my wife, who loves infants, figured that a dog would be like having a perpetual two-year-old around.  Unfortunately, he went from the lovable two-year-old to a sedentary, failing hundred-year-old almost overnight, and we knew it was time to say goodbye.

When he was brought home, it was against my better judgment.  But I was overruled by a 75% majority.  We reached a compromise – my wife and sons would take full care of him and he would not be my responsibility.  Well, guess what…the son of a B won me over, and of course my being excused from responsibility was short-lived anyway.  My wife decided early on that he needed intensive training, and enrolled him in Puppy Preschool.  Not a great student, he flunked and had to repeat it.  My wife assumed the role of alpha dog, and the final results of their shared training was nothing short of remarkable.

A melting pot of pedigrees, he brought a diversity to our household that we never expected.  We’re not quite sure what his bloodline contained, but he was about 50 lbs, and had a look and coloring of a Rottweiler, but we think he was mostly German Shepherd.  Whatever his ethnic blend, it was a fine one, as he was always gentle, very lovable, quiet, entertaining, and at times frisky.  A rescue dog, reportedly from Trenton, he was adopted at PetSmart where he also attended training (twice) and returned for periodic grooming.  Until recently, he loved going there, and the groomers loved him.  He really seemed to understand that his rescue changed his life, and he was grateful for every minute of it.

When he moved in, we also had two cats, and they never forgave us for bringing this beast into their home.  In protest, they moved to the basement and seldom ventured out.  Travis, ever the peacemaker, tried to coax them upstairs, but they were stubborn.  Eventually, though, they settled their differences, and while they never became close, they tolerated each other.  He did, however, have a cat best friend – our son’s cat, Zoe, who loved him and whom he loved in return.

He was not a pretty dog, but he had a personality that won everyone over.  I’m not the only one who succumbed.  Kids loved him, people who usually didn’t like dogs loved him, even the mailman loved him.  He wasn’t a jumper, he wasn’t a barker (at least until recently when he could no longer hear himself), and he wasn’t annoying in the least.  He didn’t destroy things, didn’t jump on the furniture (except one time), and didn’t usually go after people food.  He did, though, decide to help himself once to a freshly baked apple pie that was cooling way back on the stovetop.  We came home to find the glass pie plate smashed on the floor, most of the pie gone, and some of the glass missing.  He sustained a cut lip in the process, but it didn’t faze him.

For years, Travis entertained us with his intense fear of loud noises, especially fireworks and thunder.  He’d always find a place to hide, sometimes finding himself stuck under our bed.  One of our favorite tricks was to turn on the weather channel.  It would only take one or two notes of the music to send him running, providing proof of Pavlov’s theory of classical conditioning – Travis had put it together in his mind that whenever he heard that music, bad weather was coming.

At Christmastime, he was usually as excited as either of our sons.  He’d open his presents and play with them, but always gravitated to his favorite – a beat up ball that he had for most of his life.  So a couple of years ago, we stopped buying him new presents, and just wrapped his ball and a couple of old toys up.  He was thrilled!

He was usually a great walker, and until recently, enjoyed his outings.  In his younger days, if we let him out without supervision for a few minutes, he’d sneak off and explore the neighborhood.  After 15 or 20 minutes, he’d make the circuit and wind up across the street where they either had treats or some really good trash.  And any time we took him out without a leash, whether we were watching or not, he’d go across the street to visit another neighbor – Joe, who treated Travis better than we did.  To Travis, the grass was always greener on the other side of the street, and he did his part to make it so.

He even inspired me, on one of our daily walks, to write what I consider to be my best essay, written during George W. Bush’s presidency, called Dogmata:

(http://apropositions.blogspot.jp/2006/08/dogmata_22.html)

The current events of the time were great candidates for a number of metaphors and ironies that occurred to me that day.

We don’t know Travis’s actual birthdate, but we estimate that he was born around the first of the year in 2000, so that made him almost fifteen – pretty old for a dog.  His health was failing, his hearing was gone (he no longer performed when the weather channel was tuned in), he was almost blind, he had doggy dementia, and he was limpy and lumpy.  So we knew his days were numbered, and we were left to make a very difficult decision.  He was the best dog to the very end.  He had a good life, and brought a lot of joy to our family.  He also tamed the skeptic in me.  For all the work, all the costs, all the walks in the rain…it was a great ride.

So if there’s a heaven, I hope that dogs are allowed, and I also hope that our neighbor, Joe, finds a place right across the cloud.

It's been a while since I've written anything for publication.  This was published in the March 21, 2014 Trenton Times.

Making a Difference

If you had your druthers, wouldn’t you want to make as much of a difference for as many of your neighbors as you could, at the least possible cost?  There aren’t many ways that we can do that individually, but there’s one organization that does it all the time – the American Red Cross.

In a tradition that began with Franklin D. Roosevelt in 1943, each year the president of the United States proclaims March to be “Red Cross Month.”  This year, President Barack Obama’s proclamation read, in part, “During American Red Cross Month, we honor those who devote themselves to bringing relief where there is suffering, inspiring hope where there is despair, and healing the wounds of disaster and war. Today, American Red Cross workers, alongside countless humanitarian organizations and caring volunteers, deliver life-saving assistance in every corner of our Nation and all across the globe.”

The Red Cross provides emergency assistance, lifesaving training, disaster relief, services to military families, blood collection, and many other supportive and preparatory care services to anyone who needs them.  Most of the services are provided by unpaid volunteers, while a small professional staff coordinates the services and provides direction and continuity.

The Red Cross is there when local, regional and international disasters strike.  The Red Cross is there when training is needed in first aid and CPR, lifesaving and emergency response.  The Red Cross is there when military personnel need connections with their families and communities.  The Red Cross is there to ensure a safe blood supply for emergency and medical needs.  The Red Cross is there when planning is needed to prepare for inevitable disasters, both natural and man-made.

For major disaster responses, the Red Cross is there in a big way.  Imagine the logistics involved in assembling an organizational structure, lining up and coordinating hundreds of trained volunteers, acquiring purchased and donated resources, and establishing a presence, all within hours of the occurrence of a disaster.  During Hurricane Sandy, for example, huge empty warehouses were transformed almost overnight into well-stocked, fully staffed, busy distribution centers.  These hives of activity were surrounded by a swarm of Red Cross and rented vehicles, each picking up and delivering much-needed supplies to people in need.

With over 500 chapters nationwide, the American Red Cross is virtually everywhere, even though it’s one unified organization.  While chartered by the federal government, it doesn’t receive funding from the government, except in certain limited circumstances.  Much of its financial support and virtually all of its trained volunteers come from local communities.  Here in the heart of the Garden State, the American Red Cross of Central New Jersey (redcross.org/princeton) serves 1.8 million residents in Mercer, Middlesex, Hunterdon, and Somerset Counties.  The chapter also serves as the headquarters of the North Jersey Region.

Although the Red Cross spends about 91% of every dollar raised on direct services to those in need, its tremendous volunteer base magnifies that investment exponentially.  For every paid staff member, there are about sixteen volunteers.  This translates into a huge return on the investment in paid staff. Talk about leverage!  In addition, many non-cash donations are made by businesses, so the overall return is even greater.

What all this means is that we depend on the support of Red Cross staff and volunteers more than they depend on ours.  Nevertheless, they do depend on our financial and volunteer support in order to provide vital ongoing services to us and our neighbors.   More importantly, they need our support in advance of major disasters; after a disaster strikes, it’s too late to prepare, so the financial investments need to be made and trained volunteers need to be in place beforehand.

After almost every major disaster, the outpouring of financial support from individuals is incredible. But the Red Cross is responding to local disasters nearly every day. Last year alone, the American Red Cross North Jersey Region responded to 485 local home fires, providing 1,269 families with emotional support and emergency assistance with food, clothing, and temporary lodging.  Just recently, the Red Cross responded to the gas explosion in Ewing, establishing a reception center at the West Trenton Fire House and providing emergency assistance to families as needed. The Red Cross continues to coordinate with Ewing Township and other organizations to help provide comfort and assistance to the families affected by this disaster.  So it’s important to recognize that fundraising is not just episodic, but rather that a steady flow of financial support is needed to keep the Red Cross ready and able to respond.

If you are not already engaged with the Red Cross, now that you realize how valuable it is to your community and how great an investment it is, please consider making a financial commitment to the organization and/or adding your name and skills to the long list of selfless volunteers who provide services or donate blood.  You can find what you’re looking for on the web at redcross.org/Princeton.  Once you’ve done that, you’ll know this: it’s great to know that we’ve got neighbors like us!