in anticipation of
pressing the play button
Hi friends,
Hello and welcome to Week 10 of Kopi Club! We are officially in the double digits. We’ve said this before and we will continue to say it, but thank you for keeping up with this little project of ours.
This week Singapore is officially entering Phase 2 of our circuit breaker (perhaps one of the more unique ways of describing a lockdown), marking the biggest step towards fully opening up the country. It seems crazy that we might return to some semblance of normalcy after being indoors for 3 months.
Some part of us still identifies as a student in the U.S, so it’s absurd to see the differences between the two countries. We’re grateful that Singapore has taken big steps to keep the country safe before opening up; it makes us realize that even the little things are luxuries.
With opening up, here are some updates:
Our upcoming week, as told through the foods we’re looking forward to eating:
N:
Eating Korean noodles in a little home-y shop in a random mall
Conveyer-belt sushi: what a beautiful invention
J:
One of the most welcoming sights at a local food court is the auntie that wheels around a cart of dim sum. Essentials: har gao and veggie dumplings
Across my favorite book store in Singapore is the best ice cream shop - I know, a powerful combo. An even more powerful combo? Creamier’s earl grey - lavender ice cream
In one of our older newsletters, we wrote about the notion of anticipation:
“For us change necessarily means letting in new things not with fear or doubt, but with anticipation.”
This quote feels especially relevant, with the weekend bringing about the most change in what has felt like forever. This post is in anticipation of experiencing old things with newfound appreciation.
J:
There is an evolutionary advantage (necessity, even) behind the feeling of anticipation. What I know to be a mixed bag of emotions - excitement, fear, urgency - is actually essential to my survival. Anticipation is a function of an internal predictive model: we make hypotheses about how events might unfold, and our subsequent actions are guided by these predictions. Learning, unlearning, making adjustments. There is an emphasis on the idea of planning: within this period of anticipation, the system has the opportunity to prepare the best course of action.
Funnily enough, I don’t think I’ve gotten around to the preparation phase yet. If anything, this feeling of anticipation has left me stunned. Every now and then, I am hit with pangs of disbelief that Phase 2 is beginning.
Instead, this image - part of a series by photographer Kyle Bean - is what keeps coming to mind. It accurately sums up my current state of mind. A precaution outweighed by the desire to simply speed things up, watch things unfold. An unsettling stillness. Knowing that my impatience has consequences. I can imagine it now - forgetting to blow on my first cup of kopi-o and instantly burning my tongue. Spilling bright red chili sauce on my shirt from dunking a golden mantou in too enthusiastically. Distractedly tripping on the sidewalk while trying to wave to a friend in the distance. But after three months of staying indoors, even these messy parts of everyday life seem like a blessing. They are.
It feels like I am reacquainting myself with an old friend, thinking of ways I might first catch up with The Outdoors. The empty swings at the Botanic Gardens, or the narrow bike trail just outside of Keppel MRT station. Maybe these Ministry of Health-approved destinations are even preferred: a chance to savor a moment with Singapore, free from loud swarms of people.
Even then, there is a little part of me that wonders if these upcoming reunions will lack some of their reunion-ness. Like all the contactless air hugs, or hearing the laughter of friends and only just imagining the accompanying smiles underneath our face masks. Unresolved anticipation. Still, there is the promise of delayed gratification that makes a truly lockdown-free world feel all the more sweet.
It seems fitting that I am writing this final section on the balcony; I am at once indoors and outdoors, on the verge of finally breaching that invisible line. Yesterday, the thick layers of tape that used to mark off the green spaces and pools of my apartment were finally removed. For the first time in a while, I heard a kid yell cannonball as he splashed into the tempting water. God knows I am still holding on to many fears (a friendly reminder to keep wearing your face masks!), but it felt freeing: to finally hear the soundtrack of summer. It is impossible to not smile.
N:
If you’ve ever been on a rollercoaster, you’d know the feeling of the moment right before the drop when your body is suspended. The feeling of organs slipping; heart wobbling. Spinning in the air, the whir of strangers’ faces like a round and glowing dream. Hands gripped against the handles of the cable car when you look below and see nothing but falling. Is that anticipation? Is it fear? A mixture of both, maybe. They’re actually more similar than they originally seem.
I like anticipation because it is the prelude to the good, hopeful, expectations of things to come. As the news broke that we were exiting lockdown, the most beautiful deep pink sunset dripped into the evening sky. There are many things to look forward to – embracing a loved one over a good meal (for those who aren’t in Singapore – we weren’t allowed to see people outside of our immediate family until now), celebrating birthdays (July babies, looking at you), window-shopping, painting on the grass, reading outside.
But with anticipation, there’s also a little bit of fear. The other day, I clicked on a post titled ‘Afraid of Opening Up?’. Opening up the country or the metaphysical ‘opening up’? I mean, either is a big task. The vulnerability of the body or the mind. Seeing people in person again is a bit of both – I always feel like I’m a mildly awkward person. A strange thing to say because I know it is not entirely true, but it doesn’t stop me from feeling it – that I lapse into silence in times of discomfort, not knowing how to start or drift off from a conversation gracefully. I can’t help feeling that quarantine has rendered me even more introverted than before.
Despite these anxieties, I know that awkwardness won’t exist with the people I’m closest to in my life. The right people are timeless – no matter how long it has been since our last conversation. In fact, quarantine has given me a lot of clarity on who I care about and spend time with. Who I miss. The vacancies in my life magnified through this period of isolation. Some I will see soon; some are still miles away.
Deenie Hartzog-Mislock: My body was a conduit for feeling...so I used it. I moved through it. I believe there is an aspect to life that is most truly felt through movement and the body. Physical presence conjures up a sort of intimacy that cannot be replaced. I will endlessly love the small indications of tactile vitality – a familiar embrace that makes you feel like not even a fraction of time has passed since the last one. A tipsy walk home with friends, cursing at your shoes. Darting past and grabbing a sample cup from a frozen yogurt place, the coolness in your throat.
Yesterday, I walked through the city for the first time in 3 months, seeing the flurry of movement. Shops were brightly lit, I could see the crinkle of happiness at the edges of eyes even when smiles were obscured by face masks. People reunited over long awaited bubble tea. I was an anonymous observer of all this joy.
Anticipation is the prelude to the good, hopeful, expectations of things to come. So instead of unwarranted fear, I wait in anticipation.
With summer just around the corner, we are reminded of the usual anticipation leading up to fresh music drops and outdoor concerts. While it may be a while until we are once again squeezing our way to the front of a venue, we created a new KC playlist that you can listen to (and enjoy just as much), both indoors and outdoors.
Hugs,
J & N