Yee Fong’s Blog

Watching the Singapore flag raised in the prestigious Olympics hall for the much-anticipated table tennis match brought a tear to my eye.

It was one thing watching any Chinese team play against other teams in an Olympic venue - the cheering and support is overpowering; but rooting for your own country competing for the most coveted title in the sports arena is a whole new experience for me.

I never thought I would witness a Singapore team standing on the medal stand in my lifetime.

The romance of Singapore’s first Olympic medalist Tan Howe Liang with weightlifting remained as one of the most inspiring Olympics stories to date.

His story happened before I was born, so I never imagined the ability of an Olympic medal to elicit patriotism was so strong.

At the Singapore Embassy on the fateful – and a very much historic Sunday night, I’m convinced that Singaporeans can bring the house down. They came in red and white national colours, they waved flags and they roared.

More than 100 of us gathered at Singapore’s diplomatic grounds in Beijing to watch the table tennis finals ‘live’.

Being miles away from the actual venue did not stop hot-blooded Singapore patriots from yelling at the top of their lungs at the projection screen.

The younger ones chanted till their faces turned red, while the uncles and aunties hopped around in a rare display of animated youthfulness.

The cheers came in a combination of Mandarin, English, Hokkien, Malay in the most creative composition that only the Singlish-proficient could understand (Can someone please provide a list of these multi-lingual cheers?).

But hey, it’s far more interesting than the straight-laced Zhong Guo jia you! or Go, China! - probably the second most played out chant to the Chinese national anthem…

Never mind that Singapore missed the gold medal; a silver medal isn’t bad at all. As Consular Tang Weng Chau said to me after the telecast, everyone’s a champion that evening.

The media marathon in the run-up to the Beijing Olympics can be trying, and at times, exasperating. But it also brings out the most curious response from all of us who were, and still are, engulfed by Olympics hysteria…

Overheard at a press conference…

“I would like to know where that picture was taken. I’ve never seen a sky like this in Beijing,” said Righteous Journalist, referring to a huge picture of Beijing’s Bird Nest against a clear blue sky.

“March 2008,” said NGO spokesperson.

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Overheard at the entrance at a former diplomatic compound converted to a high-end wine and dine establishment…

“Where are you going?” said a Very Young Looking Guard.

“To the restaurant,” said First-Time Visitor.

“Which one?” persisted the Very Young Looking Guard.

“Erm, I’m not sure. I was only given the address. How many restaurants are there in the compound?”

“One,” said Very Young Looking Guard.

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Overheard the morning after Beijing’s spectacular Olympics Opening Ceremony….

“My, how can Singapore beat that for its Youth Olympics Games Opening Ceremony?” said Concerned Singaporean.

“Well, we may have to borrow labour from our neighbours like Batam and Malaysia, maybe even the Philippines,” said Cynical Singaporean.

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Overheard the morning after Beijing’s spectacular Olympics Opening Ceremony again…

“My, how can Singapore beat that for its Youth Olympics Games Opening Ceremony?”

“Instead of the drawing scroll, we shall have a giant murtabak, complete with minced meat, onions and sardines…” offered Singaporean food-junkie.

“How about you borrow Zhang Yimou from China?” offered cheeky Chinese.

If there was one thing that the Beijing laobaixing might have learnt from the whole Olympics fanfare, it would be the Human Wave (or Mexican Wave to the Mexicans; or the Kallang wave to Singaporeans…), and the fun of letting their hair down cheering for players on the courts.

I had a blast attending one of the preliminary rounds of volleyball in the first week of the Olympics, and it was not because of the matches.

It began with a brainwashing exercise as I got past the security check into the venue.

At least three student volunteers, just steps apart from each other, exclaimed to me in an overwhelming earnestness to “enjoy the games!” as I strolled towards the gymnasium.

Their enthusiasm was endearing but I couldn’t help but feel embarrassed to have my arrival announced to hordes of other strangers streaming in, who also got their fair share of embarrassment…

But hey, I’m all for the festive spirit and yeah, I would “enjoy the games!”

As the preliminary match went into full-swing, volunteers tried to rouse the crowd by urging spectators to do the human wave, rather coyly.

Among the spectators were a good number of residents in the neighbourhood let in by the organizers to fill the seats.

They consisted mainly of middle-to-old aged men and women dressed in their home-casuals, armed with paper fans, who sauntered into the venue in their slippers.

“Erm…Let’s do the human wave at the next time-out, ok? ” a volunteer said to his bemused audience politely.

The human wave was predictably subdued as it was a new activity to the grandpas and grandmas, who had no clue about what it was.

The volunteers didn’t know better, either, as they watched the wave dissipate, instead of keeping the momentum going.

If anything, the competitive mood was kept alive by the Polish contingent, who showed up with flags, banners and painted faces.

“Go, Egypt!!!!” a lone supporter of the Egyptian team yelled all of sudden.

He was, of course, quickly drowned out by the Polish collective.

I decided to rally the moms and pops to root for the underdog.

“Come on, this guy has no supporters!” I stood up, turned around, and said to moms and pops.

It was awkward as they stared at me like I had two heads on my neck, while the lone laowai continued to stretch his vocals.

But before long, the neighbourhood squad, who were at first tickled by the lone enthusiasm of the laowai, began to chant with him.

At one point, a frail old man even turned to me and initiated a chant, beating his pair of cheer sticks for effect.

Never mind that the Polish anthems were overpowering and their cheers were tight…we had the Chinese on our side!

As journalists, we are often caught up with capturing the moment of action. We get a kick out of freezing the most candid/emotional/telling/embarrassing expressions of our subjects. Rarely do we realize how WE ourselves may look through the lens of others.

Mr Chia Hui Yong of Mercy Relief, who kindly gave us a ride to difficult zone areas during the Sichuan earthquake, had, even more kindly, captured us in action during those intense times. I received them recently, after Hui Yong returned from his relief work from China.

They are priceless.

Thanks, Hui Yong!