The Catherine Lim Collection

by Catherine Lim

  4. KIASUISM AND THE ‘EAT-ALL-YOU-CAN’ BUFFET

  However, the ultimate manifestation of kiasuism is at the ‘eat-all-you-can’ buffet at which, for a certain price, a person can help himself to as much food as he likes from a magnificent selection, sometimes numbering as many as 35 different items. Since this gastronomic innovation is the rage in Singapore’s big hotels and restaurants, the national propensity of kiasuism has never had so much opportunity to be exercised; indeed, it is the belief of many that it is precisely the ‘eat-all-you-can’ buffet that has brought this national propensity into full flowering.

  By now, it is a familiar sight: The Singaporean with plates of piled-up food from the buffet lunch table staggering back to his own table, ploughing through the food with great gusto and merriment, returning to the buffet board for more and still more, and finally slumping back in his chair with a smile of satisfaction on his face and a toothpick languidly dangling out of the corner of his mouth, while in front of him are plates and bowls of unfinished food, or food hardly touched because the last lap of the binge had proved too difficult, even for him.

  The languor which spreads over the face and whole person of the Singaporean as he adjusts his now much distended belly to a more comfortable position in the chair, belies the meticulous preparations that he has made prior to the coming for this buffet lunch, preparations made to ensure that he gets his every cent’s worth. Firstly, he has gone without his breakfast to ensure maximum stomach capacity for lunch. Secondly, before he begins the great pile-up, he makes a quick reconnaissance survey of the selections on the buffet board to identify the choicest and most expensive items, hence eschewing items such as rice, bread and inexpensive vegetables for exotic crayfish and oysters and venison. In the unfortunate event of the waiters coming in with new items after he has already finished his meal, he is so seized with vexed dismay that he goes up to the waiters and demands to know why the goodies had not been brought in earlier, or he gets up and struggles to the buffet board for one last time.

  5. KIASUISM: THE SOCIAL, HISTORICAL AND CULTURAL DIMENSIONS

  Since the kia-suer’s behaviour at the ‘eat-all-you-can’ buffet is the best manifestation of kiasuism, this gastronomic event will be used as the unit of study by which the national propensity will be considered in its social, cultural and historical dimensions.

  The relevant questions are: Why is kiasuism best shown at the buffet? Is there any historical or cultural basis for this manifestation? What implications do these have on Singapore society as a whole?

  Certain theories will now be put forward:

  5.1 The ‘Hoarding Instinct’ Theory

  The frenetic piling up of food on plate well beyond one’s consumption capacity is a vestige of the hoarding instinct of peasant ancestors for whom every grain of rice, every stalk of vegetable, every bit of dung deposited by the water buffalo, was precious and had to be saved against needy times. Hoarding is no longer necessary in modern and affluent Singapore, but ancestral instincts die hard, and it has been estimated that the amount of food piled up on the kia-suer’s plate approximates the amount required to keep a person alive over a prolonged period of famine.

  5.2 The ‘Second Echelon Eaters’ Theory

  The open invitation at a buffet to get at the food the minute it is laid on the board and to wait for no one, harks back to ancestral times precisely because the opposite was true then: one had always to wait one’s turn to eat. One had to wait for the gods to have first go, or temple deities or dead ancestors; only when the food was brought back home from the temple or the ancestors’ graves could it be consumed. Even then, one had to wait for the elders in the family to have the best parts of fowl, fish and herbs before one could finally enjoy the food. Demanding deities, hungry ghosts, exacting ancestors, dead and alive - these formed the First Echelon Eaters. By the time the Second Echelon Eaters could have their fill, the feast had already been much denuded. Now, a modern-day buffet represents the total lifting of these historical prohibitions, and the eagerness with which the kia-suer descends upon the food makes up for the old hereditary frustration of having to hold back.

  5.3 The ‘Raiding Instinct’ Theory

  One of the most significant features of kiasuism as manifested at a buffet is the tendency to leave large amounts of food partially consumed or totally unconsumed on the table. Large slabs of roast beef, lamb or chicken covered thickly with sauce, but hardly touched; western salads in sad cohabitation with Asian ‘rojak’ in an abandoned bowl; delicate little custards, puddings, pies and tarts cruelly defaced by poking, plunging forks and spoons left sticking there – all give the aspect of a mindless raid not unlike that of the ancient days, when the people of one village, in the sinister darkness of night, surged forth to harm those of another, looting, plundering, despoiling, and laying waste what they could not take away, such as setting fire to granaries and ripping ripening fruit off trees.

  The attenuating power of education and affluence has not totally eradicated this ancient raiding instinct, and the buffet, with all its display of abundance and plenitude, has the effect of activating it.

  What are the implications of kiasuism?

  Already, Singaporeans on tour are being excluded from buffets, or regulations are being devised precisely to keep Singaporean kiasiusm in check, such as the regulation that any food not eaten will be charged for. The more tolerant hotels are devising incentives rather than regulations, such as the incentive of a free meal if proper behaviour is shown at the previous one. It is clearly not an endearing national trait. The surprising thing is that every Singaporean cheerfully speaks of kiasuism as a trait belonging to other Singaporeans, so that kiasuism appears to be some kind of abstraction, rather like the Cheshire Cat’s grin without the Cheshire Cat.

  6. CONCLUSIONS

  Although no previous study has been done on kiasuism, there have been a few experiments, the results of which are likely to be published soon. For instance, there is a study motivated by the discovery that a Singaporean, after a blood transfusion, lost all traces of kiasuism to the extent that his behaviour was no longer recognisable by his family and friends. The Singaporean had been on holiday in Norway where, as a result of a serious accident, he had undergone major surgery, had had massive transfusions of Norwegian blood, and had subsequently experienced the drastic behaviour change. This led to the question: is kiasuism a behavioural trait that is determined by the presence of some special elements in the blood, in the same way that, for instance, a certain African tribe is immune to malaria because of the presence of certain sickle-shaped corpuscles in their blood? An experiment is at present being conducted in which the blood of a South Sea Islander volunteer is being replaced by that of a Singaporean, to see if that has any effect on his disposition. The results may prove that kiasuism has a physiological basis as well.

  The above is but a tentative study of kiasuism. It is hoped that the study will lead to others that will contribute to a greater understanding of this very interesting phenomenon.

  In Search Of (A Play)

  SHARILYN ZELDA LEE SWEE MEI: Now let’s get everything very clear from the start, Your Benevolence. I’ve come to get your advice not because I’m desperate – ha! everyone thinks all women over 35 who have not found husbands are desperate! Let me repeat, I’m not desperate, I’m simply being an unwilling participant in an experiment being conducted by the Social Enhancement Unit, and have been foolish enough to promise full co-operation. They have been quoting you left and right in their lectures on Marriage and Love and Family and the Role of Women and what have you. He in particular has been quoting you at every outing we have been to; the last time he quoted you, he said something like ‘Confucius he say, woman must walk three paces behind man, with eyes cast on ground.’ I was tempted to retort, ‘This is because if man walks three paces behind woman, his eyes will be cast on her behind’, but I let it pass. I want, once and for all, Your Benevolence, to get it straight from you. I confess I have not yet re
ad your Analects, though these are compulsory reading for the SEU Initiation Programme; I was too busy reading Keats and Byron and Shakespeare. So here I am, part of a ridiculous experiment – but perhaps, Your Benevolence, I should brief you on the experiment before I ask your advice.

  CONFUCIAN SAGE: The Master he say, always very good for woman to be brief and go straight for the point.

  SHARILYN ZELDA LEE SWEE MEI: Well, as you may know, Your Benevolence, the SEU is very worried about what they perceive to be a growing trend among young educated women in Singapore – the trend to stay unmarried because their expectations of their marriage partners have far overtaken the reality. Simply put, Your Benevolence, Singaporean women have become too intelligent, articulate and socially sophisticated for Singaporean men. Oh, how painful, how traumatic to go on a date with a man who picks his teeth in public, Your Benevolence, and speaks horrible, ungrammatical English! The SEU has been trying very hard to persuade us to overlook all these deficiencies which they say can be corrected after marriage with a little patience and care. Now it has launched this ludicrous experiment, and before I know anything, I’m in the centre of it! You see, Your Benevolence, they want to match the most articulate, sophisticated and idealistic Singaporean female with the least polished and the least attractive Singaporean male, to prove that it can work! If these two extremes are seen to be happily matched, then the SEU can turn around and confidently tell the other couples for whom the gap is less severe: “You too can make it,” thereby fulfilling its primary function as the nation’s premier matchmaking institution. For this purpose, I, Sharilyn Zelda Lee Swee Mei, have been picked by the computer to be paired with a Mr Chow Pock Mook, and a whole elaborate programme of meetings and outings and cosy tête-à-têtes has been drawn up for us. The SEU is, needless to say, very anxious for the experiment to succeed, for they have invested much time and effort and money in it. But it’s not succeeding! I have told the SEU so, but they keep insisting that I give it another try and that is why I have come to get advice from you, the great Sage. As I mentioned earlier, this is a kind of concession to the partner the computer picked for me, Mr Chow Pock Mook, who has the highest regard for your teachings. I confess I would be more comfortable seeking advice from the English bards who were such an inspiration to me in both my undergraduate and postgraduate years in England, but, as I had earlier indicated, I am prepared to co-operate fully with the SEU and give this Mr Chow Pock Mook a last chance.

  CONFUCIAN SAGE: Yes, the Master he say virtuous woman always must prepare to co-opulate with man.

  SHARILYN ZELDA LEE SWEE MEI: Your Benevolence, let me be totally candid with you. I do look for a certain measure of physical attractiveness in a man – which woman does not? Oh, I am not demanding the looks of Robert Redford or Burt Reynolds and he does not have to exude the sexuality of Tom Selleck, but is it too much to ask for a man who is the same height as oneself, who does not have gold teeth and who dresses respectably? I had fed the computer with precisely these requirements. I had ranked, as the first prerequisite, ‘Absence of gold teeth’, followed by ‘Possession of minimum height of five feet four inches in stockinged feet’ and ‘Absence of tendency to wear starched white cotton shirts with singlets underneath’ (singlets showing through shirts are not only passé but decidedly awful, Your Benevolence) and what do I get? Precisely what I do not want. I am landed with Mr Chow Pock Mook who has not one but two gold teeth – Oh, Your Benevolence, they glint horribly both by sunlight and candlelight – and who wears the same light blue or light grey short-sleeved cotton shirt the whole year round and the shirt is so ill-fitting that when he sits down and raises his arms to rest them along the top of the sofa, the shirt actually opens in between the buttons to force upon my sight horrendous glimpses of singlet inside! Oh, the pain of it. Yet it is nothing compared to the sheer agony of the gold teeth, Your Benevolence. The thought of lovely morning sunshine gently breaking through my Laura Ashley lace curtains, to suddenly light upon a gold molar in a cavernous mouth beside me, puts me in a cold sweat: Oh, how should I get through the rest of the day, not to mention the rest of the marriage?

  CONFUCIAN SAGE: Gold in mouth is reflection of gold in heart; woman very foolish to throw away such treasure.

  SHARILYN ZELDA LEE SWEE MEI: I can see that you are not very sympathetic, Your Benevolence, but let me continue. If this Mr Chow Pock Mook had a sharp mind, were capable of witticisms, humorous puns and verbal banter, then even the evil of the gold teeth might be somewhat mitigated. But oh, Your Benevolence, he can talk of nothing beyond his next salary increase or some big engineering project that he has been called to assist in or his mother’s cooking! And the way he speaks English! I have never come across anyone who so brutalises the rules of English grammar. The task of mentally correcting his every mistake of grammar and pronunciation leaves me quite exhausted. But I had thought to give the man a chance. Perhaps his wretched speech could be compensated for by a sound intellect, a love of intellectual inquiry, a passion for literature. I tried hard to probe his mind, to find out the extent of his knowledge and his reading, but all he could remember was that he did Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night when he was in Secondary Four, and even then, he could not recollect anything about the play except two answers which he had memorised for the examination. And his entire knowledge of English poetry is encompassed by the lines:

  For men may come and men may go

  But I go on forever.

  He kept repeating the lines to me, with an air of great learning; I never squirmed so much in my life. I tried to tell him a few jokes, based on puns and subtle word-play, but it took me so long to explain them that in the end I gave up. The jokes he enjoys are banal or crude in the extreme and he has the naivete to think that I enjoy them too! He must have told me the one about ‘The Emperor And The Dog That Was Operated On’, at least six times, and the one about ‘The Monk In The Latrine’ at least four times.

  CONFUCIAN SAGE: The Master he say Emperor must be benevolent ruler and must rule well and with justice; a good and just man, he is emperor even if he is a beggar. The Master he say Monk must be clean, must be good example of virtue; if not, he is like stinking latrine.

  SHARILYN ZELDA LEE SWEE MEI: Oh, Your Benevolence, we seem to be talking at cross-purposes, but you have to pardon me, I have not finished. And if you sense increasing agitation in my voice, it is because I am agitated and distressed to be made the victim in this senseless SEU experiment. By now, I must be a national laughing-stock. We were in this restaurant. Your Benevolence, a place hot and noisy and simply awful with spittoons under the large, circular stone-topped tables, but he had suggested going to this place for lunch, because he particularly liked the fish-head soup with ginger that was a specialty there, and he needed to use the spittoon. I went along reluctantly. Oh the horror of it! He very soon abandoned spoon and chopsticks and went for the large fish-head with bare hands, slurping and making a loud running commentary on its merits. He poked and prodded the monstrous fish-head in search of delectable bits of flesh here and there, he gouged out the eyes with a violent forefinger, offered one to me and upon my refusal, happily proceeded to chew both in the most revolting manner. His whole face was suffused with the sweat of sheer satiety; his shiny pate was the shinier with the moisture, and every now and then, he took out a large, blue-striped cotton handkerchief from his trouser pocket and wiped the steam that had gathered on his horn-rimmed spectacles. He was eating with such enjoyment that he did not notice that I had hardly touched the food; the look of revulsion on my face was obvious to everyone except him. When at last he finished, he wiped his mouth, first with his by now damp handkerchief and then on his left shirt sleeve, sniffed at his fingers with the most vulgar display of nose-twitching that I had ever seen and then got up to go and wash them at a sink at the back of the restaurant, without so much as an ‘Excuse me’. He returned shortly, wiping his hands on his handkerchief and still making little appreciative smacking noises, sat down, emitted two loud burps, picked
up the spittoon, gathered the phlegm in his throat with horrible crackling sounds resembling those of jumping fire crackers and finally spat into the obnoxious, filthy-looking vessel. While waiting for the waiter to come with the bill, he lay back against his chair, with a languidly contented look on his moist face. Then he began to feel with his tongue for bits of meat and vegetable lodged between his teeth, and he opened his mouth wide and stuck in his forefinger and thumb to try to dislodge the bits, turning his head this way and that, and grimacing most grotesquely. Unable to stand the sight any longer, I called for some toothpicks which I pushed towards him on the table. And he grabbed one and began picking his teeth vigorously with it, without bothering to cover up the whole operation with the free hand, as one would expect. When I left the restaurant with him, I was so ashamed that I vowed I would never go out with him again. But the SEU insisted that the programme which had cost them a lot of money and effort, had to be gone through, to its completion. They kept telling me that I ought to have more patience.

  CONFUCIAN SAGE: The frog it will wait for the chirping insect. Moon passes by, and clouds pass by. But frog will go on waiting. Patient frog get insect in the end.

  SHARILYN ZELDA LEE SWEE MEI: I don’t know about frogs and insects, your Benevolence, but let me tell you of something equally revolting! The next day, at the insistence of the SEU, I suppose, Mr Chow Pock Mook called and said he was coming over with a present for me. The optimistic part of me said that the situation might still be saved: suppose he came with a dozen long-stemmed deep-red roses and an appropriate message on a card? Miracles do happen, and the benefits of his six months’ attachment to an engineering firm in France some years ago might not have been lost after all. He could actually have picked up some refined forms of courtship there, and had just let them lie unapplied up to now. But what did I see? A large raw fish-head! The mouth was wide, gaping, and the eyes were vacuous and protuberant. They were the most obscene protuberances I had ever seen. “Fish very good and expensive”, said Mr Chow enthusiastically, “Very good for fish-head bee-hoon soup, like my mudder and grandmudder used to make”. He advised me to quickly put the fish-head in my refrigerator. Fish!