Once a Guide, Always a Guide

I have many happy memories of my days as a Girl Guide in secondary school.  Of afternoons (we used to meet every Saturday afternoon, from 2pm to 5pm) spent in all manner of activities - of starting a fire in one corner of the school field (it was a sandy rather than grassy field), of learning First Aid, of playing Kim's Game (an observation and memory game), even of etiquette lessons.  Guiding aims to train us up to be all-rounders.  I remember singing around the campfire, of going camping during the school holidays, and going orienteering in the Macritchie reservoir area (we got lost for some time and had to walk until we hit the main road).  

Guiding Badges - The Trefoil, World GG Association Badge,
Patrol Badges, and accomplishment badges

I am not sure what is left of my Guiding skills.  Certainly, the First Aid knowledge has largely dissipated over time and I'm not too sure if I can remember all the orienteering instruction either.  But Guiding was far more than just doing activities.  In a way, it was really about inculcating values in young girls, which would put them in good stead for the rest of their lives.

What are these values?  It starts with our Guide Motto: "Be Prepared".  Guiding teaches the skills for Guides to use in various situations.  But the instincts - of looking ahead, thinking, planning for contingencies and preparing for success - is embedded in this simple motto.

Guides are also exhorted to "do a good deed every day".  It teaches us to be proactive in looking out for and helping others, to be unselfish and to think of others besides ourselves.

Every Guide must know the Guide promise - the threefold promise - in order to get to wear the Trefoil (the three leafed badge).  The promise goes:

"I promise to do my best,

to do my duty to God.

To serve my country, and help other people,

And to keep the Guide Law".

Indeed a challenge for each of us to live up to, every day.

Today is World Thinking Day.  In my day, it was just "Thinking Day", but the word "World" was added in front to reflect the international movement of Girl Guides and Girl Scouts.  Indeed a time for us to think about the international sisterhood and brotherhood we all share, Guides or not, and maybe also to think about whether we are living up to the values that Guiding sought to inspire in us.

Irish Eyes

I wrote a few years back about the Katong Convent School building, and a little about my school days. This post prompted the most comments from readers who took the time to reminesce about their school days, too.  Indeed, there was something special about our school days.  Maybe it was the fun and laughter we shared with our friends, in the process of growing up together.  Maybe it was the warmth and wit of our teachers.  And for some, maybe it was the lilt of the Irish brogue coming from the Irish nuns, in particular Sister Josephine Healy.

I should say that I did not go to Katong Convent Primary and so did not interact with Sister Jo as many others did.  But, her presence was still so prevalent even in the secondary school.  We sang hymns once a week led by Sister.  We would assemble in the hall, and Sister would be on stage leading us in song.  "From the Rising of the Sun", "Fill my Cup", "Give me Oil in my Lamp", and many more.   Her energy, and her infectious joie de vie (if I've spelt that correctly) were inspiring.  When I was in Sec 4, my principal Mrs Marie Bong decided to stage "The Merchant of Venice" and got Sister Jo and Sister Dolores (her sister) to help out.  They had a fine time indeed, correcting our phrasing, diction and emphasis as we stumbled through our lines.

Sadly, both Sisters Josephine and Dolores have passed away, Sister Dolores a year or two ago and Sister Josephine, in December last year. The IJ sisters held a memorial service for her in Holy Family church on 17 March, St Patrick's Day.  Father Michael Arro, who was at  Holy Family and Perpetual Succour for many years, was the celebrant.  Father shared his many memories of Sister Jo, remembering her compassion and kindness, but also how her Irish eyes could become fire-ry and how his French temper and her Irish temper went head to head.  Other speakers - her students - gave eulogies.  One speaker (my former teacher) told of how Sister inspired her to be a teacher too.  Others read poems.  The characteristic crisp, clear diction of the KC girl characterised each speaker.  That, too, is indeed Sister's legacy.  

My Grandmother's Convent School Days

I'll be going for my Sec 4 class reunion on Saturday.  It's been years since we saw each other - in those pre-email/internet days, it has been a little more difficult to keep in touch.   But this post is inspired by a far more senior group of Sec 4 girls - in fact from my grandmother's Sec 4 class from the 1930s.  In fact, besides my grandmother, my grandaunt and one of my teachers were all in this same class. 

The photo has not stood well the test of time.  But it shows a happy and cohesive little group of schoolgirls, presumably in the grounds of the Victoria Street Convent (see my earlier post about my grandfather's convent boyhood; little would this young convent boy know that his future wife would pass through the same gates, many years later).

You can see from the photo that the convent uniform used to be a little different - definitely those large collars had mercifully left the scene by the time it was my turn to don the uniform (but my convent is in Katong).
For many of these girls, their education  would end after completing secondary school.  But already, this was a privilege - for theirs was an era where many girls remained uneducated.  They would proceed to become wives and mothers; some would take up jobs.  Their lives would not be easy - within a few years they would be facing the trials of the Japanese occupation, followed by the trials of the pre-Independence years.  But the friendships and ties nurtured in these years would endure.  This year, the survivors of this class turn 90.  Those who can, still meet up regularly as they have been doing all these years.

So my wish for my classmates is that we too remain happy and healthy, well into our golden years. 

P.S.  Happy Birthday, grandma.

My Grandfather's Convent Boyhood

My grandfather was sent away to boarding school when he was about 6 or 7 years old.  Yes, all the way from Katong to the Victoria Street Convent (CHIJ Victoria Street).  He did go home on the weekends, transported on an old rickshaw.  I guess that was why he had to be a boarder - it would not be practical for him to go there and back every day. 

My grandfather was not, of course, the only boy to go to the Convent for his early education.  Another (rather more prominent) student was of course, Mr David Marshall, Singapore's first Chief Minister, who went to kindergarten there.  In his oral history interview, he talks about the food, his attempts at learning French, life under the strict nuns and his experience as an altar server.  Of this, he recounts the lasting impression it would make on him:

"...if it was my turn to say mass, some of the other boarders that went with me of course, went into the body of the chapel but I had to go into the vestry at the back of the altar.  Now as soon as I got there, right in the middle or three- quarter way, sat an old nun. She was Madam St Argyl.  I suppose it's a French name and she was also like a man. She was short and rather inclined to be strict.  I believe she must have been there because she must have been in charge of the chapel. I go up to her and say, "Good Morning"....

... The bishop used to come across Victoria street from the bishop's house in Victoria Street there, and then another server would come from outside also...

... The nuns sat right at the back .. and then all the other boarders in the convent, the first-class, the second-class and the section that was known as the "Orphans" were all present at the mass. and the orderly way that they used to go to communion when walking back to the seats and the posture adopted after receiving communion is one that I have carried through even up to today...  ...with my hands together, walking slowly, sedately to my seat."

Unfortunately I do not have a photograph of my grandfather as a schoolboy (he describes himself as having long curly hair when he first went to school, which I would have liked to see!). 

My grandfather stayed in the convent until  he was old enough to start off in St Joseph's Institution.  There, he spent a few more enjoyable years before starting off on his teaching career - which he would spend entirely in the La Salle schools.  His children would all similarly pass through the Convent (Katong Convent for the girls) and SJI as did his grandchildren, for the most part.
Today, both the CHIJ Victoria Street Convent and SJI buildings are being used for other purposes (a commercial retail/food hub and art museum respectively) but the Schools themselves are still going and growing strong, in their newer, larger buildings in other parts of Singapore.  The chapel my grandfather served in is no longer used for worship, but now remains as a national monument.

Katong Convent

Sigh. What does it mean when a fairly new school building (I believe it was completed around 1990 or so) is demolished so it can be built up bigger and higher? Way back in 1930, Katong Convent started in an old house by the sea, on this very spot. Taking students from kindergarten all the way up to 'O' levels, many generations of school girls passed through its doors, played in its fields and prayed by the little grotto in the corner of the garden. The sea by the fence went when the land was reclaimed and the new Marine Parade town was built. My mother spent her schooldays here. The school expanded, new wings were erected. I spent four years - my secondary school years here. Well do I remember standing beneath those flagpoles and singing the National Anthem and School Song. Well do I also remember the times when I had to run around the field preparing for my 2.4km physical fitness test. As for my classrooms, these were generally placed around the quadrangle in the middle of the school. The few steps leading down to the quadrangle from the classrooms were depressed in the middle because of the many years girls had stood or sat on them. At the beginning of each year, we would walk to the Holy Family church for mass to mark the start of school. But enough of these happy schoolgirl memories.


In 1987 much of the building was torn down. Both the primary and secondary sections moved to a new building meant to house the secondary school. My sister started her primary school there. This lovely new school was then built for the primary school. I think it a beautiful building. Much of the architecture of this front block reflects the old house the school started off in. The details of the architecture reflect the peranakan culture so prevalent in Katong.

Today, our education system is taking new directions. Smaller class sizes, more IT in the classroom. Although the school building is still so new, it is not enough to accomodate these changes. So go it must. And as an Aided School, the community must raise the money to pay our 5% (or is it 10%?) of the building costs. So the school shifted out at the beginning of the year to an old school building in Bedok. Today, I saw that the demolition team has started its work. I can only think what a waste of a beautiful building it is.

Unfortunately, the building of the new school has been affected by the Indonesian ban on sand exports to Singapore. So it will be a while more before the merry sounds of girls laughing and calling to each other float through the air in this little corner of Katong.