Going Borderless

I was in Parkway Parade to meet a cousin for lunch on 26 September – the last day that Borders bookshop was operating. Though I had been told that the pickings were slim, I went in one last time.

The Wheelock Place outlet had always been a pleasant refuge whenever I had some time to kill in town, and Borders was the place where I acquired most of my Murakami collection – all from those ‘buy two get one free’ offers, and got various CDs as well. I’d bought a couple of books at 40 percent off a few months back, too, when the shop was tottering.

Alas, the custom of a frugal Singaporean, who tended to check out discounted sections first, was not enough to keep the place afloat, when they were facing pressure from abroad, so after various closure sales, we got to the last day.

The Parkway branch was a mess, and it took half an hour to find just 5 books that I could live with for $4 apiece. Sort of. There was a memoir about the filming of Monty Python’s Life of Brian, a guide to eating in Kuala Lumpur, Schott’s Almanac 2010, O, a Presidential Novel by Anonymous, and a Christian book on prayer for radicals. Worth $20 bucks altogether? I guess.

On the way to pay, I met a girl who also had five books, and I suggested we combine our purchase – 10 books would cost $25. At $2.50 apiece, the books seemed a lot more worth it, and while I was sentimental enough to step into Borders one last time, I’m also rather attached to my money. That is to say, I enjoy being able to spend less. Money is power, but even we don’t have loads of it, the ability not to spend money is also power, right?

So I stepped out of Borders feeling slightly empowered, but later, when I got home, I had something to think about. After toting up the prices on the back of each $2.50 book, the original cost of my stash was $175. My thoughts were, firstly, books are not cheap! Followed by, no wonder Borders died, if they were expecting people to pay $175 for books that I could only sort of live with at $20. Finally, I wondered about the value of things versus their price.

Borders had been a treasured, even valuable refuge in the heart of town, and a good place to look for books and CDs I wanted, but how much was I willing to pay to keep it going? More importantly, what should I do now that it is no more?

The library perhaps – air-conditioned, lots of seating, with the additional benefit of being free. Or perhaps I should go down to Kinokuniya more often?

Pinnacles, here I come

I have wanted to go to the Mulu Caves in Sarawak ever since I read a magazine article about them as a teenager. It was one of those ‘destiny’ moments, rather like the time I opened my Geography textbook in Sec 3 and saw a small black and white photo of Mt Bromo. I just knew I had to go and see it.

The Bromo trip was more than 20 years ago. Mulu took longer – I only made it there last year, when a friend who was at loose ends for a week agreed to go with me, and even planned it all. Unfortunately, she only planned two and a half days at Mulu, and it rained on the evening we went to the bat cave, so I didn’t get to see the spectacle of the millions of bats flying out in the evening.

I also missed the Pinnacles – not the block of flats in Singapore, but those lovely limestone spikes pointing at the sky – it was too long a journey, and my friend rightly pointed out that she wouldn’t make it. She was too polite to say I might not have made it either.

Well, I’m going back again this July to try again, having persuaded a friend in Kuching to see the place for the first time. After the caves, we’ll also take in the Rainforest Music Festival.

Quite an ambitious project – I’ll be almost two weeks away, and the forest trek will be long, and I’m told, muddy.

On the positive side, the cost is low. All the Sarawak costs it will be paid in ringgit, and I have a ringgit account, which will be worth more if I spend it all in Malaysia, as opposed to bringing it back to Singapore – no GST, at the very least. Planning early also helped. I managed to get a return fare on Air Asia for about $175.

But even if I didn’t get the cheap air fare, it would still be time to go. After everything was booked and paid for, I got a bit worried about whether I’d be able to tahan the hike through the forest, especially with camera equipment. Then I took myself in hand - I’m getting on, and not likely to get any fitter if I delay the trip. My ‘long hikes through the jungle’ days are numbered.

I figured that one out a couple of years back when I hiked through the Maxwell trail in Fraser’s Hill, and sprained my ankle fleeing from hundreds of leeches, which thrived in the muddy terrain. As I was limping more than 1 km out of that little scrape, I remember telling myself: “Try to enjoy this – you may never do this again, ‘cause you’re not getting any younger.”

So if it’s something I’ve wanted to do for years, and I can afford it, I’ll do it.

Hopefully, careful planning will keep the costs down. Or, I may have to trim the fat to save up for it. One day, however, I will go to Christmas Island to see the red crabs. I’ll go up north (or down south) to see the Aurora, and check out Antarctica. If I ‘m lucky, I’ll see Machu Picchu, Easter Island and the Galapagos as well.

A good first step will be the short flight to Kuching, and then from there to Mulu again.

As Mark Twain said, “Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbour. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.”

Life in plastic? Not fantastic

Last week, I called Amex twice – both times to cancel their cards. I wasn’t keen on paying the annual subscription, and they are not my card of choice.

So how on earth did I keep their cards for so long? (We’re talking decades). Most shopkeepers ask if you have something else when you take it out, and, honestly, I mainly use as a bargaining chip when I’m buying a big-ticket item. The guy who sold me my laptop asked if I had a Visa or Mastercard, and I agreed to use it if he would throw in a thumb drive – it would cost less than the 5 percent Amex would charge them for the transaction, and I get a thumb drive – win-win.

Of late, I haven’t been making any big buys. I like to keep my electronics for as long as possible, on account of not wanting to spend money unnecessarily on new stuff when old things still work, and having two usable things means more things to store, since no one seems to want old electric goods these days.

Then, there’s the wolframite question. Wolframite is something that goes into a lot of our gadgets, apparently. It is also a conflict mineral, meaning all sorts of evil men do bad things to other people in order to get their hands on the minerals. I can’t see myself without a cell phone or a computer, but I can use them for as long as possible, and so limit my need for wolframite.

Anyway, the Amex people were very friendly, as you would expect when they are trying to persuade you to keep their card. They even offered me a discount on the annual fee. I admit to a moment of temptation, but finally said, “Na-ah, I think I can do without the card.”

I felt incredibly light after that. One less card bill to have to go through every month, and to have to pay on time – they charge hefty admin fees if you’re late – I hadn’t realised it would feel so good. After all, I still have a Mastercard, so it’s not as if I’m doomed to embarrassment if I don't happen to carry enough cash when I’m abroad.

So back to that important question – why did I keep them for so long?

Well, one was a corporate card, which had a very low annual fee, and it made me glad to think that, if I ran out of cash abroad, they would accept one of my personal cheques and give me the cash in local currency at bank rates. How often have I used it? Just once.

As for the other, everytime I called to cancel the card, they found a way to get me to keep it another year - they waived the fee or some such. But that would be followed by large service charges if the cheque didn’t reach them on time, or if it reached them on time but didn’t get cleared on time.

In the end, all the aggro added up - keeping up with various payment due dates and paying, calling the companies up to persuade them to waive renewal fees... it finally got me to overcome the inertia to clean out the unnecessary cards.

My heart feels lighter, and my wallet is less crowded with cards. The relief is great, but one part of me feels silly - I should have done it earlier.
Still, better late than never. Now, to get rid of other supposedly convenient things that really clutter uo my life...

Love thy nature - or not?

Earth Hour day did not get off to a flying start in my household.

First, Sat was the only day that the repairmen were free to come fix the air-conditioning. I had been tempted to let it stay faulty (and off), but Mum had been having trouble sleeping, so...

The compressor was still under warranty, but I was told that I would still have to pay for manpower and parts – so what use is their guarantee? After being relieved of $180, I realised there was still time to rush down to Ben Foods, a food distributor, to help a friend look for cheap wine.

Of course, that would mean a 55km round trip, which is hardly eco-friendly. Ah well, I did promise.

So it was off to Fishery Port Road, burning three litres of petrol, and expanding my carbon footprint on the round trip. Parking was free, which was a comfort, but I had better make the long drive pay. So I spent $290 on $12-wine, Black Angus beef, wild salmon and all sorts of stuff I would I would normally not spring for, but which I’ve read are good for me (in moderation!), and which, when bought from the importer, were quite affordable. Throw in some imperishables and stuff for a neighbour, and the petrol I burnt wasn’t going to keep me awake at nights – not that I plan to go again for a few months, at least.

After a quiet afternoon, it was time go for a play – all the way to the University Cultural Centre at the UCC! However, the ticket was free, and I have a policy of not turning down free tickets in order to keep the free entertainment coming. By dressing up properly so as not to embarrass my friends, and offering them a lift home, I’ve been invited to Emily of Emerald Hill, Carmen, H is for Hantu and other shows recently. It works out to 2 shows every 3 weeks or so.

So I started the long drive to UCC, after reminding Lena and Mum to turn off the lights during Earth Hour, which I was going to miss.

It was a good show, but all in, a lousy showing from me on Earth Day.

I’m making up for it, though. I still gather empty plastic bottles for my neighbour to reuse, and I’ve got some friends doing it for me – it’s amazing how people who won’t keep their plastic bottles for recycling on their own will do it to oblige you. Anyway, the more bottles saved from the landfills the better.

And I think I’ll try to have an Earth Hour every quarter, perhaps – on a cool night when fans are not really necessary. Using the candles rescued from other people’s waste bins of course – some after a candle-light vigil, when they wanted to junk the half-burned candles, others that had served as decorations in homes, which were about to be thrown when they looked worse for wear. All still can be lit, so why waste them?

CNY – Painting the town green

I think we’ve tamed the beast that is Chinese New Year. Whereas in the past, we used to visit too many places, exhaust ourselves and eat too much, we’ve trimmed the visiting to more manageable levels, bought less food and drinks, and so come away from the holiday much healthier and happier than before.

Did I say tame the beast? Maybe not completely, if you consider the sort of waste that we generate with our merry-making.

To save effort in washing, some meals were served with disposable plates, bowls and cutlery. And it was so easy to just hand someone a tin of beer or soft drink, or to pour drinks into disposable cups, to spare the host some drudgery.

As a person who once wanted to run away from the festivities because of the drudgery of cooking, cutting, serving and washing up, I don’t blame anyone who opts for convenience.

However, this year, I decided to see how I could spread the greenish message a bit.

Everywhere I went, I asked my hosts to put their plastic soft drinks bottles into bags for me to take away for recycling or reusing. The same went for the beer tins and empty wine bottles.

No one turned me down, though they were a tad bemused at first. Someone asked, ‘surely all this gets sorted out by the garbage people?’ Alas, no. It just goes to the incinerator with the rest of the stuff and gets burnt. That’s why they ask us to sort things out and throw them into the recycling bins.

Recycling the aluminium tins goes a long way – depending on who you ask, it either requires 95 percent less energy to make a new tin from recycled material than from mining the stuff, refining it and so on, or the energy taken to make a tin from scratch can be used to make 16 tins from recycled aluminium.

I managed to pass that little tidbit on to one or two people who asked me why I was doing this.

The plastic bottles went to my kind-hearted neighbour, who washes them out, fills them with water and puts them out for workmen to take – when she stopped once, they started knocking at her door to ask for water. This reusing works even better than recycling, though it isn’t quite as good as reducing, but who can reduce drinks during the New Year?

The tins were passed to the karang guni man, so he can make a couple of bucks as well as recycle them. The glass wine bottles were put out for the recycling truck.

Getting a few dozen tins, some wine bottles and plastic bottles recycled may not seem very much, but I’m hoping that, after a few years, I won’t be the eccentric relative anymore, and that more of the people who obliged me this year will be doing this themselves.

Now won’t that be a happy New Year?

CNY

Chinese New Year is at hand again. The realisation hit home when an innocent trip to the supermarket “for a few minutes” took over an hour. Confronted with all the usual New Year “must-haves”, I spent a lot more than originally planned (not just in time, either), but since it was for a festive occasion, no hard feelings.

I’m not against rice, oranges and dried mushrooms, or my family’s special pressure-cooked beef recipe, but this New Year, there are a few traditions that I’m not going to observe.

Firstly, no new clothes. The fresh togs made sense in the old days, when people only got new clothes once a year, but nowadays, we get new clothes anytime, and since I don’t need any more clothes at present, I won’t buy any. It makes sense to save a bit, too, given that the price of food is going up, so the other New Year shopping costs more.

Secondly, I’m not going to bother with the turning on the lights to welcome in the New Year – waste of electricity.

No need to get new ang pow packets from anyone – I still have from last year, though, in order to fill them, I queued at the bank for 40 minutes for new notes (I did some other banking business as well, of course, so as not to waste the trip).

I’m not buying any New Year tidbits like pineapple tarts or kuey bangkit – friends and family often give, and if I buy some as well, it will be too much. And if no one gives, I’ll live with it. After all, there are lots of chocolates and stuff in the house if anyone comes to visit, though my brothers have agreed that, to put less stress on Mum, we’ll accept guests at my oldest brother’s place.

That takes care of the “no”s. There are other New Year traditions that I support. I’ll be paying off my bills before the end of the year, we’ll be eating the reunion dinner together – again at my brother’s place, in order to lessen stress.

The house is being cleaned, though some of the stuff is not being thrown away – it’s good to have a clean house, and I now have things to pass on to others who might want them, instead of throwing them.

I’ll also be cooking some hou see fatt choy, because everyone in the family likes it.

Here’s the recipe. Like all traditional recipes, there is no set amount of ingredients. Just add more of whatever you like.

Dried Mushrooms
Fatt Choy (Nostoc flagelliforme)
Hou See (dried oysters)
1 -2 pieces Dried scallops or other shellfish (optional)
Oyster sauce
A couple of cloves Garlic, finely diced

Method:
Pour some boiling water over the mushrooms. Do this twice and let them soak for 15 minutes after the second wash. Reserve the water – which is why you wash twice – the first time to get rid of grit and dirt.

Pour some boiling water over the hou see to wash them. Do this twice and soak the second time. Reserve the water.

Do the same for your dried scallops or shellfish if you have any.

Pour some water over the fatt choy and let stand.

Fry the garlic for a couple of minutes in a saucepan or a pot. Add the oysters.
Cut the stems off the mushrooms and cut the bigger mushrooms in 2 to make them bite-sized.

Add the mushrooms.

Add the water. Leave to simmer until oysters are soft.

Add the fatt choy. The stuff soaks up water, so don’t feel shy about adding some boiling water if it dries up.

Add oyster sauce to taste.

Wants vs Needs

It’s a new year, and newspapers and magazines are filling column space with suggestions for meaningful resolutions, tips on how to keep our resolutions, and explanations on why we fail to do so.

I’m not a big fan of new-year resolutions because I think if we see something in ourselves that we want to change or improve, why wait for a new year? So the process of self-improvement goes on throughout the year.

However, I’ve been puzzling over the question of wants versus needs for a couple of months now, so the timing seems good to tackle that popular save money resolution: “I’m only going to buy things I need, rather than things I want.”

Sounds good.

The question is, what constitutes a bona fide need? At base, it means simple food and drink, a few pieces of clothing and maybe some shelter.

This doesn’t quite cut it in Singapore, where we factor in transport, work clothes, and morale boosters as well. Who is going to argue against having cheerful surroundings for mental well-being, or recreation? Here is where the going gets murky, and where I got stuck late in 2010.

I went to a talk at the photo festival and met a photographer who had just upgraded his camera, which was already one model up from mine. I made him an offer, and got myself a used camera which was better than mine, so well-kept it was like new, and which came with extra batteries, a bag, and a storage card. All for $400.

However, that good deal was followed a by a sale which offered a $900 tripod for $355 – which required a tripod head for $316 (it was another sale, but I don’t know the markdown).

I was still reeling from the expenditure when my brother, who’d gone to KL, phoned to ask if I wanted a set of extension tubes (for macro photography) for RM600. Since I have a ringgit account, I thought, gulp, why not?

One can say that, as an enthusiastic amateur photographer, all these things are terribly useful. In fact, when a friend got access to a lovely spot from which to see the New Year fireworks, he told us not to bother to bring our cameras if we didn’t take along a tripod as well.

However, it was a huge outlay in such a short period of time, and prompted the musing over wants and needs.

Since I hardly make any money out of photography (the grand total from dSLR photography stands at $115), it can’t be justified, but once you get a dSLR, surely it doesn’t make sense not to get anything other than the dinky kit lens that comes with the body?

And what about deciding not to buy any books, CD or clothes this year? On the surface, it sounds fine –I’ve got lots of music to listen to, books to read and clothes to wear. But if there’s a warehouse sale... Certainly, it’s a good place to look for useful stuff, at good prices.

I suppose one sign of something being a need is when it is used – if you need it, you use it. So I plan to use whatever I buy this year, or give it away as a present.
A friend just suggested I try to earn twice as much as the cost of the item when I buy something that falls into the grey zone. Not a bad idea, and just in time for the new year, too...

How does your garden grow?

Mum lives in a house with a small garden, and a few years ago, I decided to use the space to try to ‘preserve’ some edible plants. I’d noticed fewer and fewer of my familiar childhood plants, in favour of ixora of all colours with no nectar – sterile hybrids developed by scientists.

So when I found someone with bunga telang, I asked for a plant, and grew it on the fence. Bunga telang is the blue flower that cooks use to colour their kuey. Then there was leftover serai, or lemongrass, after cooking, which went into the ground and did quite well – well enough to invite the neighbour, who makes great rending, to come over and help herself whenever she wants. Ditto with leftover tumeric.

The guidelines are simple – don’t pay for plants wherever possible, and don’t pay for pots or fertiliser whenever possible, either.

So far so good. Lots of plants have come my way for free. Ditto with pots, as long as you’re not too fussy about how pristine they look. People have moved, and had to give away their plants. That’s how I got my limau purut (kaffir lime) plant. In fact, I even got a second one when another friend moved, and passed this on to my sister-in-law.

At the garden fest in 2008, they were giving away Indian borage, which grows very easily. That went into a pot. Some sugar cane growing wild that I spotted on a walk has been doing well in a corner. Too well, actually, since I don’t actually eat the stuff, and when they grow, the canes are leaning against the fence and threaten to bring it down. Thankfully, we’ve found someone who likes it.

Other stuff includes curry leaf, pandan, and dill, which grows so easily from cuttings anyone will give you some. Very nice with tuna sandwiches and fish dishes, too. And a belimbing plant, courtesy of an aunt with a proper tree. This might give fruit when it grows up in a few years.

Bizarrely enough, some friends once gave me a grape vine. It has given lots of leaves, which I have never tried to turn into dolmades (one day, I swear I will!), but this year, it finally squeezed out a bunch of 5 grapes, which something ate before I plucked them. Another lot of 3 grapes has disappeared, but I hold hopes for a third bunch of 4 whole grapes. I think I should just use the leaves for dolmades.

One of my happiest finds was when I visited an aunt who was about to move, and found bunga kantan. Also called torch ginger, the bud is used in rojak, but I prefer it in a prawn dish. The plant is huge, but I don’t mind, since it gives me the occasional bud, reminding me to start cooking. Those without the plant, don’t despair – its available in Geylang Serai market, at about 50 cents each.

Here is the recipe:

1 torch ginger bud, sliced thinly
2 cloves garlic
3 onions, chopped
Assam (tamarind) juice
2 limau purut leaves thinly sliced
1 stick serai
1 red chilli, chopped
Prawns, peeled
Salt and pepper to taste

Fry the onions, garlic, lemongrass, limau purut, torch ginger bud and chilli. Add assam water,simmer a while, then add prawns. Add salt and pepper.

A big hand for 2nd hand

Second-hand has a bad name – one thinks of faded clothes handed down by older siblings or cousins.

However, I believe that Singapore has changed since those bad old days, when buying a second-hand car put you in real danger of being stuck with a lemon. Just as car technology has improved, so that one can buy ‘pre-owned’ vehicles without worrying about having to push, Singapore has prospered to the point where we get rid of things that are not only still usable, but are well within their better days.

Oddly enough, the line: “This is really well-made, and will last you a lifetime” is still a clincher whenever a salesman tries to sell us something, but we seldom keep anything for a lifetime. Instead, we get bored, or something newer and nicer hits the market, and we decide to upgrade.

That’s fine if you can afford it, and I understand it – I like getting new stuff myself. However, I try to make sure that some of my ‘new’ stuff is second-hand.

This makes financial and ecological sense. Second-hand costs a lot less, since most people like and can afford new, so low demand keeps prices down. As it has already been made for someone else, you save on the world’s resources as well.

It makes eminent sense when you’re trying out a new hobby, for example, or something that you’re not sure you’re going to keep up. So when I decided to dip my toes into dSLR photography, because everyone was telling me I’d be better able to realise my ideas with a bigger camera, I bought my equipment second-hand.

For $1,000, I got a then-entry-level Canon 400D (the 450D had not come out yet), with an 18-85mm zoom lens, instead of the dinky 18-55mm kit lens that came with most cameras. It seems someone had bought this nice equipment, then decided quite quickly that it was not for them – either they wanted something more sophisticated, or they preferred the simplicity of a compact camera after all.

Either way, I got to enter the brave new world of dSLR photography at a lower price, with equipment that was maybe a couple of months old, and which had not been used much. As I said to a friend, worst come to the worst I lose a few hundred dollars palming the camera and lens off to a third owner. He said the worst scenario he could think of was I drop the stuff and break it all. Whatever – if it didn’t work out, it would cost less.

I find that going pre-used is also good for clothes, books and knick knacks. Maybe it’s because I like the St Michael’s Church jumble sale, and am a fan of the National Library Board’s annual Book Exchange. But actually, it doesn’t really matter that the book you’re reading has been through someone else’s hands – after all, we borrow books from friends or the library.

As for clothes, well, we don’t give away old, worn-out clothes anymore – we hang on to those comfy old friends and wear them at home, or sleep in them. But we have clothes that are mistakes, or which for some reason we hardly wear, and these we give away to make more room in our closets. The other week, I was given a large travel bag of clothes, among them a pair of Guess jeans that still had its price tags on. I passed some clothes to two other people, and have plenty left for myself. We’re all happy.

I bring this used goods habit a step further, and am happy to accept furniture. In fact, when our sofa started getting flat and uncomfortable, I let it get out to my network of friends and family that I was looking out for a new sofa set. A couple of months later, sis-in-law told me that her neighbour was looking for a home for her sofa set, and would I take a look?

It was great – comfy, the right height for our short legs, and a nice dark brown. Free, too. It only cost the price of getting the Helping Hand people to transport it over to my place, and cart my old set away. The Helping Hand guys were cooing over the nice leather as they wrapped it my ‘new’ sofa set in plastic to move it.

Don’t get me wrong – I’m not a repository of other people’s junk. I only accept things that will be useful to me. In fact, when someone is moving, with lots of stuff on offer, I tend to step aside if someone else shows an interest in something I like. Well, I do have lots already, and don’t mind being a recipient of last resort.

So I can testify that the second-hand route is a great way to save money, save Gaia and enjoy your creature comforts. The things are unlikely to be really old, and, more importantly, they are new to me.

BTW: The library is having a sale of books on July 10 and 11. At Singapore Expo Hall 6A, 9.30 am – 8pm

How the Book Exchange went

The Library had accepted 16 books from me for the book exchange, after refusing Thornton Wilder’s Theophilus North because the pages were brown. Whatever – I don’t mind keeping it. NLB accepted the biography of Cher and other volumes rescued from the bin when friends were moving out, and these formed the bulk of my 16 Book Exchange contributions.

I checked Facebook to see if anyone wanted my coupons for a library in some third world country, like I read about last year. Found nothing.

So come the day, I drove towards the Central Library bright and early, parked at Bali Lane to save on CBD and higher parking rates at the library itself, and walked seven minutes.

Half an hour into the event, there was already a queue waiting to go in. I joined with sinking heart, but it was windy and pleasant, and the people about me were friendly. I could hear announcements telling the people who were inside, choosing books, to please make their choice quickly so that people like myself could have their turn.

The turn came within half an hour. Crowded, but not impossible to move about. And the selection was not bad. It took me just 20 minutes to settle on my 16 books – 4 or 5 that friends might be interested in, some that I was very keen on, like Shamini Flint’s Inspector Singh Investigates: A Bali Conspiracy Most Foul.

I went for one of her readings once, and was quite impressed, but didn’t buy her books, because I was in the middle of a self-imposed period of not buying any entertainment. I bought the first volume of The Seeds of Time – The Animal Talkers, and thought it was great. The volume has since disappeared among my friends. I’m waiting for the next.

Borrowed two more of her books from the library, one about Inspector Singh investigating the murder of a timber tycoon in KL, and another about murder in a law firm. Both were good, so I was glad to get my hands on one more.

Also picked up a RK Narayan, a signed copy of an Alexander McCall Smith’s Botswana novel, and various self-improvement, economics and other reading that looked interesting. No harm, right? If I don’t like it, I don’t have to finish, and can exchange them again next year. Actually, even if I like them, but don’t want to keep them, I can pass them on to another person next year!

This is great!

One thing though – carrying 16 books back to the car was do-able, but not a breeze, and parking at the library that afternoon was not a breeze either. I went for a performance of Animal Farm there, and had to queue to get into the car park. Waited long enough to make me late, and had to watch the first 10 minutes or so on the TV outside.

If you want to exchange a lot of books, it might be worthwhile getting someone along to help carry – just tell them to choose what they want. Or consider taking a taxi home – it just might be better than waiting to enter the car park, then joining another line to get to the books.

The Book Exchange is here again!

Yippee! The NLB's book exchange is coming up again!
Here are the details:
Book Exchange 2010

Give a book. Get a book. The infinite book exchange.
Give a book, get a book at the Book Exchange! Drop off your used books* at any Public Library from 10 to 23 April, 11.00am to 9.00pm and get a coupon for every book** accepted. Bring your coupon down to The Plaza, National Library Building, on 24 April to redeem for new reads.

Event details:
Date: Sat, 24 April 2010
Time: 8.30am to 6.00pm
Venue: The Plaza, National Library Building, 100 Victoria Street

*We accept children's and adults' fiction and non-fiction books (eg. Cookbooks, travel guides and romance novels) in any four official languages. Books in other languages will not be accepted. We also accept used library books bought from previous Library Book Sales. Textbooks, magazines and audio-visual materials are not accepted. Used books for exchange should be in relatively good physical condition.

**Each person can exchange up to a maximum of 30 used books.

For enquiries, please call NLB Helpdesk at 6332 3255 or email: helpdesk@nlb.gov.sg.

BTW, good condition means they don't want tears or even brown pages, or books whose pages have notes written on them.
Seems a bit pickier than last year, I think, but still a chance to get a fresh bunch of old books for old. And as good a chance as any for our old books to find new homes.

Walking hard

I started walking a couple of years ago for exercise, but progress had been slow, no pun intended. I would crawl out of the house once a week in the late afternoon to meet a friend who lives in Normanton Park, and we would walk through the Science Park. We’d miss a few weeks when our schedules clashed, and it took a year before we made it all the way across the Southern Ridges.

Then Ed, another friend, who lived a km away, suggested we walk. That went on better, because she was nearby, and more determined. We started at 7 in the morning, and would saunter along Bedok Reservoir. After a while, we added MacRitchie and the Botanic Gerdens to our routes.

Then she got a step counter and our lives changed.

Suddenly we knew how far we walked, and how many steps we took, putting us in touch with those ideals that we’d read about – you’re supposed to walk seven thousand steps, burn up how many hundred calories etc. It had all been guesswork before, and we weren’t even qualified to guess. As such, it gave us more motivation: “We’re feeling tired because we did a lot of uphill walking, but we’ve only walked 2.9 km. Let’s continue on an easier route for another couple of km.”

Other significant moments came when I returned after a trip and overslept – Ed went walking by herself. Once she got sick and I only saw her message after I was dressed. I went walking by myself. It was doable, so we knew we didn’t need the company to exercise – company was nice, but I could do it by myself.

Another turning point came when I found I had a morning appointment on a day we were supposed to walk. Rather than give up the walk, I suggested, only half-seriously, that we meet at 6.30 instead of seven. She accepted eagerly. “Actually, that would be better for me.” Six-thirty turned out to be a hit, as it was even cooler while we walked, and traffic was so much better both ways. Six-thirty it was from then on.

December was a good month for walking, as Ed had time to do longer walks. We upped our walking frequency, and even our walking speed from saunter to business-like, explored other routes and walked longer routes like the Southern Ridges.

There have been problems. We had not been used to the exercise regimen and had nowhere to put things like car keys and cash.

Once, after a walk at MacRitchie Reservoir, we were feeling peckish. After ordering food, we discovered we had no money. Another embarrassment came when we each brought $10 on our walk, saw that petrol was low, and happily stopped by a petrol station to fill up. With $90 worth of oil in our tank, we realised that we had no credit card. A friend who lives nearby had to be turfed out of the house at 7am, to rescue us. “Seven o’çlock I can do,” she assured us. “Six is a different matter, though.”

We’ve broken the no-money-so-embarrassing jinx, and we’re on our way to better fitness and happiness.

We walk twice a week together. Ed has a pilates class and some other class, so she gets her exercise four times a week. I got a sis-in-law who lives nearby to agree to two walks a week , which we do at Bidadari – a very safe and inspiring place to walk, as there are ghurkas whizzing past you to keep you on your toes, and also to chase away any baddies.

Some mornings I still walk with the friend from Normanton Park, but it remains spotty. Another friend occasionally calls me for afternoon walks, either at the Botanics or Dairy Farm, and that’s ok too – I never say no.

What does walking have to do with being frugal? Well, it leads to better health, and some weight loss when combined with mild calorie counting, which should reduce medical costs somewhat in a few years’ time. (For this reason, I’ve also been consciously trying to stand and sit straighter – less back pain and massages).

It’s also cheaper than joining a gym.

Minimum Fuss CNY

Each time many of us think of an upcoming Chinese New Year, the anxiety levels rise. There's spring cleaning to do, tons of things to buy, and, come the day, we'll be rushing about preparing food, serving food, serving drinks and washing up. Even with the help of a maid, that's no joke.

Thankfully, my case is less hectic. The change started a couple of years ago, when I thought aloud about going away for the season to avoid the stress. Mum being fairly high in the family heirarchy, lots of relatives visit, and some of them had an unerring knack of arriving at mealtimes, with children who didn't like staples like rice, but who preferred to tank up on savoury snacks, wiping out the entire season's supply in the space of an hour. One year, I went down on the second day to a dry goods shop to catch them when they did their symbolic opening, to get more supplies.

So leaving seemed a good idea, though not exactly feasible - other better-prepared people started booking the moment they get their calendars, leaving only far-flung destinations, and I wasn't about to fly all the way to South Africa for three days to avoid the New Year.

However, the thought of Mum missing the season so horrified my brothers that one of them offered to host the festival on our behalf - we'll eat the reunion dinner at his place, they'll bring their families to our place in the morning of the first day to pay their respects, then we all adjourn to his place to receive visitors.

Sounded good. We have been refining the division of labour, with various ones of us bringing our own special dishes for lunch on the first day. This year, lunch will be at a different brother's place, so the work gets shared out a bit.

I've also decided this year that another way to preserve my sanity and my pocket is to stop buying New Year goodies. I don't think I go overboard with the cakes and stuff, but there's just too many pastries going about during this time - and going at inflated prices, too! Last year, I struggled to finish the boxes of stuff that gathered in the house - force-feeding mum, Lena and myself on mandarin oranges before they got dry or mouldy or bad in any other way.

Mandarins were the easy bit. Everyone else having surrendered long before, I finally finished my last bottle of kueh bangkit in July or August. I decided, "Never again."

This year, I got a tin of love letters from a bakery in JB, for our own consumption - they have been consumed even before the New Year, and a radio station gave us a box of pineapple tarts. More tarts and stuff have come our way from a sis-in-law and another brother, which should do fine when the immediate family visits on the first day. If I find the time, I'll pop out to get a couple of bottles of aerated water.

Other friends, who have said that they wanted to give some tarts etc have been advised to wait a few months, and see how they feel then - better to eat fresh kueh bangkit in August, rather than stuff that was made in February, right? And if they forget, well, I won't remember either, so no harm done there.

There are a couple of good things that come with the New Year, which I plan to keep up, but in moderation. First is the house-cleaning - no one can argue with a clean house.

There is also the food aspect. Though I plan to restrain the buying, I've gotten some favourites, and will prepare them for the season, and everyone can eat some. But I won't prepare excessive quantities, so no one will have to pig out.

Hopefully, it will be a happy, stress-free New Year, and not too unhealthy or fattening, either.

The Personal International Co-op

This is not one particular institution, but a concept I’ve come up with that anyone can implement.

Here are the conditions that I believe make international co-operatives a possibility for many of us:
The Internet and better telecommunications have resulted in many of us having friends from everywhere, and being able to communicate with them easily and cheaply. Many of us also travel for business or pleasure as a matter of course.
Although globalisation has been around for some time, many things easily available abroad – in places where we know people - are still not available where we are, or available at much higher prices. Actually, a lot of things are pretty expensive, even local stuff.
Most of us operate with excess capacity.

Now, the personal international co-op means leveraging on your network to get things you want more easily and cheaply. And you getting things for your friends, too, of course. But instead of squeezing each other, we rely on each other’s “excess capacity”.

For example, I was visiting a community garden where I know some of the gardeners. They were digging up old plants that they didn’t want any more and offered them to me. I’m always happy to accept free plants. One of the gardeners mentioned that the flowers and the leaves of this plant could be eaten, and demonstrated by stuffing a bloom into her mouth.

Great – that reminded me of a Japanese friend in Singapore, who told me he’s always looking out for edible flowers to use as garnishes. (I’d given him some bunga telang before). So I texted him, and he came over to get some. Over tea, he mentioned that he was thinking of taking up photography more seriously, and buying a dSLR. From Japan, on the second-hand market, so he wouldn’t waste too much money if he didn’t like the trouble of using an SLR - changing lenses and so on.

I saw an opportunity. While he was looking, could he also keep an eye out for a particular lens that I wanted? Sure. He was going to Tokyo soon, no problem!

So the plants were the gardeners’ excess capacity, and since I had several, I could give some away. My Japanese friend was already going to shop for camera equipment, and one more lens wouldn’t be too much to carry back. So we both benefit, without anyone being really inconvenienced.

Another friend once told she had a great recipe for home-made hair conditioner, but it required castor oil, which she didn’t know where to get. I mentioned this to my sister-in-law, who immediately said she had some bottles of the magic ingredient, which she didn’t want anymore.

Another time, I was looking for a book which costs just US$0.01 on Amazon resellers, but was chagrined to learn they don’t sell to Singapore (globalisation letting me down again!). Then I remembered my sis-in-law has a sister in New York. Would she oblige? “Just send me everything in an email, so I can forward it her.”

A couple of weeks later, sis-in-law forwarded me an email from New York saying the book was bought, and would be couriered down by a visiting friend, who was travelling light. Ta-dah!

Everyone has the potential to contribute, since everyone comes from somewhere and knows someone. Recently, Lena, who works as our maid, went back to the Philippines for a break. I wasn’t about to ask her to carry anything into the Philippines, since she needed every kilo of her baggage allowance. But coming back was a different story. I asked her to get a bottle of Tanduay rum for me – good brown stuff, aged five years, only costs a few bucks there.

She hardly carried any baggage home – in fact, she didn’t bring back any check-in luggage. But I think she was gratified to see how pleased I was with the rum – which is useful for sangria and parties. And if you don’t care for that sort of thing, pass some of this “excess capacity” on to someone who likes baking fruit cakes.

The network is already there, because it is your normal network of friends and relatives. The only thing necessary to turn it into an international co-op (or even a local one) is to let people know what you want, and to find out what they want.

If you’re going somewhere, and have excess capacity, say you have shopping time and can carry things back, just let people know a little sooner, to give them time to think about what they might want.

Or, if you want to get rid of something which is still usable, get the word out early.

And encourage your friends to do the same.

Christmas presents to please an economist

I’ve been reading these pop economic books recently – stuff that brings economics into concrete aspects of our lives, along the lines of Freakonomics. Turns out that giving Christmas presents is not smart economics. The thing is, for every $1 I spend on your gift, the chances are you only get $0.82 cents worth of utility from it. Bummer!

I can see it’s kind of true – I tend to get a load of junk from loved ones (and not so loved ones) at Christmas.

However, I think I’ve found a way to make economists happy without turning into Scrooge.

What about spending less on gifts? I don’t mean being cheap. What about shopping for Christmas year-round, in order to pick up nice things when they go on sale?

It takes a bit of organisation – you have to keep the things for a few months – but you can get things cheaper, and if you buy stuff as you see it because “this would suit so-and-so rather well”, you'd probably pick gifts better-suited to the recipient than if you were going out last-minute with a long list of names to buy for. I usually find I pay more than I intended for less than I’d hoped for if I have to contend with last-minute shopping.

My sis-in-law has another suggestion – get some utility out of the gift before you give it. No, she doesn’t listen to CDs before giving them away, or wear clothes before wrapping them. Perish the thought. She recently took up a craft, and has been making gifts. That way, she reasons, the recipient gets a gift with a personal touch, and she gets some satisfaction from having made it. The best case scenario is a win-win, and at worst, the recipient isn’t too happy, but at least someone had fun making the gift...

We can also just plain make the gift, whether or not we have pleasure in making it. There’s the home-made food option – jam, cake, jelly, savouries etc. Always useful given the amount of eating that goes on this season. Cuts down on the chances of people not appreciating it – even if they don't like eating the food, they can feed it to visitors.

Hope shopping for the season doesn't make anyone broke. Merry Christmas!

Uberfrug: Overdoing it?

I read with interest the excerpts from the book Men In White: The Untold Stories of Singapore’s Ruling Political Party that appeared in the Straits Times. What struck me was the part about Goh Keng Swee’s legendary “thriftiness” – which I would classify as lokekness.

Apparently, after a hard day of campaigning on a sweltering day, Dr Goh stopped by a sugar cane stall, gulped down his drink and then told the rank-and-file who had clustered expectantly around the stall – and who I presume had been working to get him elected - “I have paid for my drink. If you want to have a drink, go ahead” before walking away.

One of the cadres who went thirsty that day hails the attitude as being good for Singapore. “He wasn't squeezing us. He just didn't want to squander money. Every cent counted,” Chan Chee Seng said. “We were lucky we had ministers like Dr Goh. That's why Singapore could save a lot of money and become one of the most affluent countries in the world.”

I prefer to laud Dr Goh’s savvy of buying of gold in 1968, as recounted in Ngiam Tong Dow’s book, A Mandarin in the Making. Now, 100 tons of gold at US$40 an oz sounds like a much better way of becoming affluent than pinching pennies. I’m also glad that Singapore pitched in to help tsunami victims. Though it cost us, it was a neighbourly and humane thing to do.

Mind you, I’m aware of every cent that I spend, and try not to spend any of it in a careless way. One friend laughed at me the other night - benignly, of course - when we were in Fairprice and got some stuff. Since his tally wasn’t quite $10, I passed him some of my things, and a spare bag, so he could get the ten-cent bring-your-own-bag rebate, which kicks in on purchases above $10.

I’m careful, but I also pay for the drinks and meals sometimes when I go out with friends. On the practical level, I doubt I’ll have too many friends if I only sponge on them all the time, and on the personal level, I’d feel quite ashamed of myself if I became a parasite. On the spiritual level, the Bible tells me to “Withhold not good from whom it is due, when it is in the power of thine hand to do it” (Proverbs 3: 27). It also warns that “there is that withholdeth more than is meet, but it tendeth to poverty.” (Proverbs 11: 24)

Well, Dr Goh isn’t poor, so maybe he stayed just within the bounds of withholding what was meet (ie proper).

Still, I think he could have done things better. For instance, he would bring soap flakes on trips to use to wash his underwear in the hotel bathroom. Fair enough – some of us still do it, to economize on hotel laundry, which can be really expensive. But get this: “Former diplomat Maurice Baker visited Goh in his hotel room during a trip one day and saw him drying his one and only piece of underwear on the heater.” (page 164)

I’m sure he was decent. The point is – how much underwear? Having just one piece of underwear would be justifiable if underwear never wore out. One could argue that two pieces was 100 percent more than what was absolutely necessary.

Since it does wear out, I don’t see why Dr Goh didn’t make his life easier by getting two, or even three pieces of unmentionables. This would save him great discomfort if the stuff wasn’t properly dry when he needed to use it again – think of what it must be like putting on damp underwear. If he had three pieces, he could even afford a change in the middle of a sweaty day.

But then, that might make too great a dent on his soap flakes...

Famous Frug: Jeff Smith

Long before “Frugal Gourmet” made it to our small screens as a segment in Primetime Morning, the moniker belonged to Jeff Smith.

The original Frugal Gourmet was a TV cooking programme that ran for 14 years, from 1983 to 1997, predating Martha Stewart. Smith, the “Frug”, was called "the most visible gourmet" of the 1980s by Time magazine. He was part of a movement to get Americans shop for, prepare and appreciate food. More specifically, low budget cookery.

He also wrote 12 books, which is how I got introduced to him - at the bargain bin of Borders. The 12 books he wrote sold more than 7 million copies, and his first two books occupied the No. 1 and No. 2 spots on the New York Times best-seller list simultaneously, and by 1992 he had sold more cookbooks than any other author.

While the Frug hit great heights, his career skidded to a halt over claims that he had sexually assaulted young men. Three civil suits were filed in 1997 by eight men. One was dismissed, while Smith settled the other cases before they went to trial. He always protested his innocence, but his career was over, hence the bargain bin.

Whether or not the allegations were true is still debatable, with one man’s word against another, and nothing said before Smith attained fame and fortune. One thing is sure though – he wrote good books, and the persona behind the writing was generous, and frugal. This is not a contradiction.

Smith’s generosity came across in his readiness to acknowledge the sources of his recipes. In the acknowledgements section of one book, he says he notes that “the list is long, but each name is important.”

He gave little introductions to each recipe, in which he mentioned restaurants, magazines, and individuals, from which he picked up the dish, sometimes giving the method verbatim from the grandmother, say, who passed him the recipe.

In these introductions, he passed on little nuggets of information about the culture that gave rise to the food. In introducing Scottish eggs, for example, he declares: “I do not like the remark about the Scots being cheap. They are not cheap, they are frugal. They waste nothing, a trait that Americans should certainly admire.”

It was only in Smith’s books that recipes would include the admonition to “save the poaching liquids for another use.” Compare that with the usual “drain after poaching” from other, less frugal, books.

Smith passed away in 2004, but he still has his fans – one website, http://www.recipezaar.com/cookbook.php?bookid=34702&ls=o&pg=3 posts his recipes, and has drawn responses. Some of his programmes are even available for loan from our National Library.

Check them out some time.

Famous Frug: JS Bach

Johann Sebastian Bach is what I call a famous frug – a famous person who happened to be frugal. Like Benjamin Franklin. Not a person famous for being a skinflint, like J Paul Getty, for example, at one time the richest man in the world, who installed a pay phone in his house, and refused to help pay a ransom for his grandson until one of the boy’s ears was delivered to a newspaper. Getty was also famous for a disastrous personal life - he was 0 for 5 marriages. In my books, a rich guy who refused to pay a ransom for his grandson (he got the boy’s father to pay him back the ransom, plus 4 percent interest), and who made visitors pay for their own calls is an “infamous frug” – a person who gives frugality a bad name by confusing it with stinginess.
By contrast, Bach was "temperate, industrious, devout, a home lover, and a family man; genuine, hospitable, and jovial. Frugality and discipline ruled in the Bach home, also unity, laughter, loyalty, and love."
The ravings of an enthusiastic biographer? Perhaps. While all the biographies I’ve come across claim a happy domestic life, I’ll stick to the financial facts. Bach was obviously not motivated by money, and knew how to live within his means, whatever they were. The composer had been Kapellmeister ("chapel master", whose responsibilities were to compose and conduct the music at a church, cathedral, or royal chapel) to Prince Leopold of Cöthen. A happy situation, as the pay was good, and his second wife Anna Magdalena Wilcken, was a singer at the court, drawing a salary that was half of his.
However, his aim in life was to write "well-conceived and well-regulated church music to the glory of God." In pursuit of this, he moved to Leipzig, to become cantor at the St. Thomas School. He accepted a 75 percent drop in salary.
Bach stuck to it for the last 27 years of his life, managing to make do for his family (he had 20 children, though half of them died before adulthood), while entertaining friends, students and relatives (and not just with music). And of course, writing some of the most amazing church music ever. He also wrote lots of secular music, like the Goldberg Variations and the Musical Offering, so he wasn’t exactly a frog in the well. A little aside - Beethoven played his Well-Tempered Klavier as a music student.
Bach was a frug, perhaps because of the meagre salary, but it was probably also a personal preference. Early in his career, he wanted to hear organist Dietrich Buxtehude play. So he walked 250 miles to hear him, and the same distance back again.
On another occasion, a relative, Johann Elias Bach, sent him a barrel of new wine. On November 2, 1748, Bach wrote, thanking JE Bach for the gift, but saying that "the excellent little cask" "was almost two third empty, and . . . contained no more than six quarts; and it is a pity that even the least drop of this noble gift of God should have been spilled." He knows that his cousin would send another, but tells him not to, having calculated the cost of freight, delivery and town excise. Thanks, but too expensive.
I like to think that the frugal lifestyle contributed a little to the musical genius. Bach didn’t waste time any more than he did money, and was constantly reviewing his work. He had a good attitude to his gift, stressing hard work and learning from others, either making copies or adapting works by other composers. "I have worked hard" he said, "anyone who works just as hard will go just as far."
Well, I don’t know about that. Maybe revising his pieces, which he did continuously, helped make them really well-thought-out, with no clumsiness. But is that enough for greatness?
Maybe another factor was divine. Bach was very devout, and many of the manuscripts of his works start with the initials JJ, which stand for Jesu,juva, (Jesus, help). Many pieces end with SDG, an abbreviation for the Latin Soli Deo Glori, (Only to God the Glory).
One of his famous quotes on music is: “The aim and final end of all music should be none other than the glory of God and the refreshment of the soul.” Another: “Where there is devotional music, God is always at hand with His gracious presence.”
Perhaps the Almighty was gracious enough to touch his industrious, frugal and pious servant with that special something that made his music immortal.
One thing I’m sure of – hardly anyone will remember JP Getty in 100 years, or even 50 years. But JS Bach will still be a household name.

The St Michael’s Church jumble Sale - what happened

Went down after lunch , as instructed, and was a bit disappointed. “Not so many things this year,”” said a friend, and indeed, the amount of stuff looked miniscule.
I needn’t have worried. As I helped put out handbags, travel luggage and other bags, they went upstairs and brought more things down. And more, and more. Great for a scrounger like myself, but it does say something about our consumeristic society too.
A couple of bags caught my eye (“is $3 ok?” asked the organiser) and got deposited in the car. So did an old but working fax machine – mine died, and this one, which works on thermal paper, suits my low usage needs perfectly. Nevertheless, I told them to sell it to someone else if possible – after all, it isn’t totally essential for me, but I’ll use it if no one else wants it.
With so many goods, things had to be sorted, hung up and so forth. Just as well, as it saved me from foraging for my own shopping pleasure. But not for long.
Soon, I found a couple of books, a grating machine with a few blades and a pristine cake decorating set, right down to the cloth bags for icing ($1 each).
Then the mass was over, and maids and foreign workers, and parishoners came down. With bags at my stall going for $1 (used), $2 (new) and $5 (branded, not guaranteed genuine), it took just a couple of minutes to reduce the carefully set-up stall to a mess.
Some people, with say, eight bags in their hands, asked for discounts. I was a little reluctant, as the prices were already very good, right? But I agreed in a couple of cases. When I reported what I did, half expecting to be frowned at, I was told, “Good!”
This put me on the right track. I’d been on the Singapore mindset, which, if not trying to squeeze as much out of people and things as possible, was at least trying not to be “had”, and possibly anxious about getting scolded for being soft - a bit “us vs them” and basically nasty – whereas the whole point of the jumble sale was to help people. I must try to remember this more in my day-to-day interactions.
I called it a day at about seven. I got the fax for $5 in the end, as there had been no takers. Spent about $30, got a fax, four new handbags (I’ve given two away do far), one computer bag, a belt, a magazine, two books, a teapot and the cake decorating set and grater.
Satisfied the shopping instinct for a while, and more importantly, for a modest sum. I also felt a bit embarrassed when I saw the stuff others gave, and compared it with the things I had contributed – do I wear things out more (good), or do I just give junk (bad)?
Something to bear in mind as I work on the books for next year’s NLB book exchange.

Charity, in deed!

The St Michael's Church jumble sale is on this weekend, 12 and 13 sept!

This one of my favourite events of the year.

First, it's a chance to get rid of stuff that I have no use for. The chances are they will find a new home, and new usefulness. Then I might actually see something I want, and it's nice to know that it's all been "pre-owned", so I don't have to feel bad about buying something that, though frivolous, has grabbed my fancy. Finally, it's all for charity, and this jumble sale is charitable in more than one way.

Of course, the money raised will go to charity. But the church also gives coupons to less fortunate people so that they can get some things too, and join in the fun. And the prices are charitable as well - nice and low. I think it's rather good that buyers don't have to choke up huge amounts for something because it's in the name of charity. Yes, I know we're supposed to give until it hurts, but it's nice to feel the pain after you get ten items, rather than slink off, broke, after buying just one item.

I sat out the Great Singapore Sale because I realised I didn't need anything, but the combination of pre-owned stuff (less bad for the environment!), low prices and charity is hard to resist.

And I've come across some pretty weird and wonderful things before. Once, someone donated glasses decorated with 24 carat gold - I got sets (5) of martini, wine and brandy glasses at a few bucks (less than 5, I can't remember exactly how much)each.

I'm not Catholic, but I really like what this church does. Among other things, they also give out free food to less fortunate people.

If you want to just give, that's great too. Pop by around lunch time with your stuff.
If you want to buy, the fun starts at around 3 or so.

Church of St Michael
17 St Michael's Road,
Singapore 327976