Looking thru a broken window...

Looking through a broken window earlier last week...came a realisation that I'm staying at a wonderful place.

I'm not having eccentric thoughts by the way. Yes, I'm staying in a 23 year old-four room-unglam-inaccessible flat in a ulu residential area next to the gurkhas' contingent camp. A place that all my friends have avoided coming ever since they tried walking 15min from the bus stop and climbing never ending steps, once.

Along the years, I've complained about the inaccessbility, the slow lifts, the slopes and steps...but the thought of shifting out has never crossed my mind, something which I myself couldn't explain.

But looking through my neighbour's broken window last week, I found the answer.

Some night last week, an old and tall tree on the slope behind my flat collasped due to the heavy rain. The impact was so great that it broke the windows of units on the 6th and 7th floor, and blocked the whole corridor of the 9th floor.

I was off work then, but apparently my photographer colleague was on his way to take some pics of the damage. My other colleague on shift had another assignment, so naturally I had to help, since it was my flat anyway.

At the void deck, familiar faces gathered ard, and information was quickly provided to me by Uncle Charles who lives on the 8th floor. Then more aunties and uncles who apparently know my mum shared more of their stories with me.

One uncle :"The unit on 7th floor, window also broken leh."
Me: "which unit ah?"
uncle:"your mother's friend one loh."

That must be auntie B's unit. ( i nickedname them auntie A, B, C )
So, I went up, only to see auntie C already in B's house. Apparently auntie A and B was out wif my mum when the tree fell. Auntie C was so worried that she kept knocking on B's door to check whether her son was alright and then dashed down to auntie A's hse on the 4th floor to make sure her children were fine too.

I was looking thru the broken window when I learnt that.

It then struck me that the people whom I'm living with is one big reason I can't bare to shift.

This is a 12 storey flat, with people that I've been living with for 23 years. It's basically a 'vertically sited kampong', with house visits and exchanges going on everyday. I see my child hood playmates as and when, and I catch up with uncles and aunties in lifts, who bothers to ask how I'm doing.

And there are closer neighbours who I turn to for absolutely, anything. Neighbours who have my keys, who cooks and brings up food for me when my parents are overseas, who collects my newspapers, feeds my fish and waters my plants when my own family is away and whose computers and printers I use when mine is down.

There was even once when my neighbour mopped my floor while we were away for 2 weeks!

I admitted that I've taken all these for granted largely until I started working. Writing and listening to numerous disputes between neighbours made me treasure residents of this ulu block of flat.

Looking thru the broken window, I came to a conclusion :
My physical living conditions may not be comparable to that of an apartment or condominium, but my neighbours are definitely world-class rated.

I'm gonna stay here for another 20 years!