I think everybody must come to define beauty for themselves. The longer you rely on society's perceptions of beauty, the harder it will be to find true beauty for yourself. You can fool yourself that you think -this thing- is beautiful (because society says so) for only so long -- one day you will discover that nothing you thought was beautiful, is beautiful. And you will lose whatever grip on true beauty you ever had.

The other day when I was at Spize eating, an old man selling tissue paper (3 packets for $1) approached us. I fished for a dollar in my wallet, coming up with a 50c-20c-20c-10c combination. I wanted to give him an extra $2 so he held his hand out to take the money. And this man had no fingers. His palm extended to five tiny nubs that could barely all touch at one point. My first thought was, "how the hell is he going to hold my coins?" I hesitated because I did not know what to do, if I was supposed to help store the coins in his pouch for him or anything like that. But he kindly smiled and said, "xie xie, xie xie" holding his deformed hand open. I placed the coins carefully on his palm and the five nubs closed tightly around them, around one dollar. He pocketed it and I gave him $2 more.

I thought to myself, that is beautiful. This man was not demanding, he approached gently, kindly. He smiled. A lot. Everything of his personality extended to his hands, the ones that lug around a heavy bag of tissue paper, the ones that collect a meager $1. And so his hands were beautiful.

This morning was the last time I will ever see my French lecturer, unless one day I bump into him in France. I don't even know where he will return to. Lyon, Champagne, Nancy... who knows. But he has changed my life in a minute way, but I feel it. He is infectious with his love for the simple things. He described the house he was going to return to in France: a huge backyard, horses, planting his own food and fruits, solar panels. Somebody said, "you are very self-sufficient" and he replied, "I am afraid of the next ten years." I thought, I am scared too. But he exhibits someone with a very balanced life, aware of what he wants despite being almost 50. He has been here 20 years, and I'm afraid he is more of a Singaporean than I am. It makes me sad to think that. Granted, I am not the biggest fan of this country but it is still my home. I asked him, "Why do you want to go back to France?" His reply is something I think everybody must think about, especially those who intend to leave forever. He said, "One day your country will call you home."

I think no matter how badly we can criticize our country, no matter how much crap and bullshit the government can come up with, no matter how ashamed you can be, one day everybody realizes, at some point in their lives, that they love the little things that make this place home. I've never thought about how heritage, how a person's roots and race can shape him/her. I suppose it's because I've always been disjointed from that (westernization and all that), from being born in Singapore, from being a Chinese. But I'm learning that it's otherwise, that if you don't feel connected to your land you are a nomad. And that means that you will never find another place that might give you the same comfort, try as you may.