My happy place was my childhood home in rural part of Singapore in the 70s. Our house was small and poorly ventilated, the saving grace was a small verandah where we children spent most of our time playing. A short fence was the only barrier to keep away from the traffic.

My mother grew edibles and the unknown vegetables would climb and grow all over the fence. There were frequent black-out in the 70s and we happily lighted candles at the edge of the fences. When there was festivals, my brothers and I decorated the fence with things found in the house. During mid-autumn festival and lunar new year, we tied plastic chrysanthemums and an odd assortment of plastic flowers on the fence. Our neighbours did the same and there was so much laughter and communication back then. When ghost month came, much to the chagrin of my parents, we sticked hell- money, incense paper and joss-sticks because we believed the spirits would not come to our house since we had offered them gifts. My father tore everything away and threatened us with a beating. Those good old days and life was much simpler in the 70s.

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