Yours Toothfully by Dr Chan Joon Yee

OK, so now we know that Tiger Woods is as champion with golf as he is with womanising. We’re certainly going to see a lot of finger-pointing, condemnation and jokes related to this latest discovery. A star he is, but Tiger Woods doesn’t control the media like some governments. He’s certainly going to get a hard time from the public - especially from the wronged women and envious men.

Of course, stories like Woods’ are hardly new. Some years ago, Chinese superstar Jackie Chan was embroiled in a scandal involving an illegitimate child. A blow from this guy would send a man crashing through doors and walls, but the public, far from his lethal blows, were giving the kungfu superstar more pointed accusations that he could deflect. It doesn’t matter how big or how deft you are. Public opinion reduced poor Jackie from superhero to gutter rat in cyberspace.

The excuse for all this condemnation, especially within conservative Asian societies, is that these folks are supposed to be role models. Our children learn from them, drink the same brand of green tea they drink, use the same brand of shampoo they use, so we must also keep minor wives or sleep with someone else’s husband if they do.

In the Land of Sheltered Walkways, exposure to any form of bad influence is not acceptable. Hence, if a role model ever does something immoral in the eyes of the righteous public to whom similar temptations are totally out of reach, he/she must be brought down. It’s already so unfair that these folks get so many temptations. How dare they succumb? Fortunately Jackie Chan doesn’t depend on Singaporeans to earn a living.

It’s not difficult to see that being a role model can be very tiring. You’re not perfect like everybody else, but you not only have to put on your best behaviour whenever you go public, you’ve got to make sure that anything unpleasant or sinful that you do in private doesn’t get exposed either. You can’t control the exposure. You don’t own all the newsPAPers.

It’s quite understandable that Hongkongers, Taiwanese and even Americans who voted for Bill Clinton are against adultery. Singapore has higher moral standards. Beauty queens are not supposed to steal things, speak bad English and have breast “enhancement”. Wait a minute. I understand the need to make sense and be honest. I may even agree with the no “naughty” photos rule. But no boob job?

It’s deception, they say. Those who “cheat” viewers into paying 20 cents to vote for them with their phones, cheat judges into giving them good points and cheat dirty old men into drooling over their artificially enhanced mammaries are dishonest and must be stripped of their crowns. Future beauty queens must all be examined for surgical scars and xrayed for butt and breasts implants.

Picture of Rachel Kum taken from the New Paper

yao mo gao chor ah? Are they going to xray contestants for dental implants as well? For dentists, dentures, crowns, bridges etc are all supposed to look like real teeth. Does that make me an accomplice to all this “cheating” if I make a replacement for a missing tooth that looks real and helps the contestant win the title of beauty queen? Or must the contestant go on stage with her missing tooth/teeth just to be “fair” to people who can’t win even with a full set of teeth?

As an adventurer, it’s not easy to admit that I have my phobias. I don’t know about everybody, but for me, my phobias can all be traced back to some traumatic experience in the past.

People who know I can swim but wonder why I’ve never done any scuba diving may have guessed that diving is one of my fears. This came after I saw the bloated body of my OC when I was 18 and serving in the army. My OC then, CPT Chua, was a diving instructor. On a trip to Tioman with his trainees, he went missing and was later found stuck to rock underwater.

That image was to be retained by my traumatised mind for years to come. The mere suggestion of going for a scuba diving course would send shivers up my spine. I just couldn’t do it no matter how hard the diving enthusiasts tried to convince me that the sport is very safe and accidents are very rare.

When my good friend Jason was still alive, we used to go trekking and climbing together. After Jason’s demise, I’ve lost a good travelling companion. And good travelling companions can be very difficult to find. Regardless of whether you’re going to Bali or Britain, Nepal or Norway, it is important to accommodate. Whether it’s your companion’s shortcomings or a disruption of schedules, change of plans due to circumstances, a good travel companion or even the lone traveller must deal with them with patience and an even temper. I’m sure almost everyone reading this has had bad experiences with friend or acquaintances who are ingredients for a disastrous vacation. Some people have gone on holidays as friends and come back as enemies. Would you feel good about going with them again, knowing very well that you’re going to end up with another eruption of fiery temper?

Only a fool would repeat the same mistake. Such unpleasant and sometimes traumatic experiences can sometimes result in phobias too. Just like my next phobia. There was also a time when I loved to go to Chiangmai. It was my second home. Years ago, I met many foreigners who also treated the city as their second home. Almost none of them is left today. Some have just left in disillusionment. Some have died.

Take J for instance. I met in Kathmandu on my first visit there many years ago. J is a Malaysian guy who fell in love with Thailand in the late 80s and decided to settle down there. He set up a legal, decent clothing business close to the Malaysian border and for years, J went through many ups and downs, struggling with the culture, the mentality and the authorities. He put up with them until someone held a gun to his head and threatened to blow it off. He settled down in Nepal and never went back to Thailand again. Why? Phobia.

At the time when I met J, I was also making plans to settle down in the Land of Smiles. I dismissed J’s story as a rare exception, but all that changed after a most traumatic incident far worse than seeing my dead OC’s bloated and deformed body. Having come face to face with life threatening situations before, the only time I panic, become cowardly and helpless is when my kids are threatened.

And there are spoilt brats out there who would threaten, throw tantrums and even resort to violence to have things their way. The trigger for such acts of violence can be that imaginary dusty old file that should have been closed ages ago. In a foreign land where guns settle disputes, where elected governments can be toppled by mobs and the rule of law is seldom respected by the powerful spoilt brats who are feared and obeyed by everyone around them, I can be quite helpless. It’s one thing to enjoy a nice holiday, ignoring the minor glitches and just concentrate on having fun. It’s another thing to pick on every minor irritation, blow them up, invent a few more stories and use them as an excuse to lose one’s temper and exact “revenge” on the bewildered “offending” parties. 蛮不讲理 takes on a whole new meaning.

I was so relieved to have escaped alive from that episode. Yes, it’s going to be a phobia that would remain with me for life. I will never step into that house of horrors again, especially when I can see that trouble is already brewing - again.