Orh, han zi, kantang…

You know, we Singaporeans are a bunch of weird-assed people.

I know, because I seem to see them everywhere. Screw mannerisms on this post, because when I step out of my apartment, out that lift door, out that building, I immediately find myself weirded confused by the people around me.
It’s just so much as listening to them speak that makes me feel as if Singaporeans do not have much manners when they speak.
Oh, that’s right. It’s to do with the over-friendly ah beng, ah seng, ah kow style kids like to rip off their elders.

Just in case you’re not Singaporean and you’re reading this…
An ah beng is pretty much your average punk. The kinds who stay out late at night (alright half of them don’t, they have curfews imposed on them, a third still haven’t done anything too bad, and the rest of them are in the boys’ home or in jail), vandalise cars and walls with pathetic scratches of ‘you suck.’, ‘O$P$’ or some other jibberish that I can’t understand.

I’m not even 20 yet (but I will be in a few days! *hint*), but what I do understand about Singaporeans (mainly just my friends) is that they love coming up with cold jokes. Seriously, very very cold and lame jokes.
It’s their version of… what’s that word? oh yes, sarcasm.

For this, you have to understand some basic dialect.

Like there was once (actually it’s on several accounts with entirely different people) when I acknowledge my friend with “Oh” to something she was saying. Perhaps it was the way I acknowledged her, maybe I wasn’t sincere enough, or perhaps it was the fact that I was busy reading my book while she was speaking to me and she just didn’t quite like my lack of enthusiasm altogether.

But the point is, the moment I’d said “Oh” was the dying moment of sarcasm. She immediately went into her 3 second tirade of “Orh, han zi, kantang!!!” Which basically and literally meant, “yam, tapioca, potato” in that order respectively when translated to english from the chinese dialect of Teochew (and hokkien).

I mean, what’s got “Oh” to do with yam, tapioca and potatoes?! You see what I mean when I get weirded out?! By now, friend goes into a laughing fit at her own joke while I look on in confusion and incredulity. I suppose I got the joke of “Oh” sounding like “Orh”, but I just don’t get it when someone bursts out about yams, tapiocas and potatoes out of the blue because of my lack of enthusiasm to join in on a one-way conversation. (she looked pretty happy yakking away, so i just sit there and listen with the occasional nod of the head and the usual, ‘oh okay…’, ‘really?’, ’so how do you feel about that?’ Alright, I start sounding like some psychiatrist before I even know it. sheesh.)

But anyway, on with the side note, yesterday was spent completing chapter 9! yay! Which reminds me, I’ll just put up chapters 2-5 later when I get home from school… Going back to pass Mr J the photo album.. But I’ve got to tell him he cannot take the photos and not give ‘em back… those are my club’s precious bao bei pictures.

gah.

alright, I’m outta here…
Ja, matte ne!