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Why some Singaporeans chase the perfect bird shot

Why some Singaporeans chase the perfect bird shot

New Paper6 days ago
Shahrul Kamal, 50, once spent six hours waiting for a kingfisher to dive, in order to capture the perfect action shot. It was physically exhausting, Mr Shahrul told The New Paper, but it was all worth it.
"But when you finally get that moment, when it touches the water, the feeling is great. You feel like you've achieved something."
And when a rare Ernesti Peregrine Falcon was spotted on an HDB rooftop in Jalan Kukoh earlier this year, the senior technical executive, who has been birding for six years, took leave from work just to try and catch a glimpse of Singapore's rarest breeding bird.
Shahrul Kamal spent six hours waiting for the perfect shot of a kingfisher PHOTO: SHAHRUL KAMAL
Birding in Singapore took off in a big way during the Covid-19 pandemic, with a surge of new hobbyists armed with telephoto lenses, binoculars, and smartphones.
Some go alone. Others camp out for hours in groups, chatting, eating, and comparing gear while they wait for that one decisive shot. They can often be seen waiting patiently beneath trees, cameras in hand and eyes scanning the canopy, waiting for the perfect moment when a flash of feathers appears.
Birds of a feather
Singapore's birding community continues to grow, bringing together a wide mix of personalities - from competitive photographers to quiet observers, retirees to teenagers, conservationists to casual hobbyists.
Singapore's birding community congregates in several active groups, both online and on the ground. Nature Society Singapore, with around 1,000 members, organises regular guided walks and conservation activities through its dedicated Bird Group.
On Facebook, the Singapore Wildlife Sightings group has become a hot spot for casual and serious birders alike, growing to over 134,000 members since the pandemic.
Telegram group chats have also become an essential tool for local birders, offering real-time alerts on bird sightings and locations. When a rare species appears, word spreads quickly through these channels, allowing enthusiasts to rush down with their gear in hopes of catching a glimpse.
When someone posts about a rare sighting in a forum or chat group, the response is often swift and enthusiastic. Comments range from excited exclamations like "Chiong ah!" to practical questions such as "Still there?" or "What time was the sighting?"
Others express near-misses with comments like "Aiyah, so close yet so far. I was there earlier in the afternoon but didn't see it." Some users offer directions, while others post follow-up photos or updates from the scene.
Relief teacher Sheryl Khor, 46, said that if a bird she has not seen before is spotted, she will rush down to try and catch it, even if she is somewhere else at the time.
"Even if I'm in the middle of something, I'll try my very best to get there… it's worth it," she said.
The Ernesti peregrine falcon spotted at Jalan Kukoh has drawn the attention of many birders. PHOTO: SHAHRUL KAMAL
Respect for wildlife comes first
But birders that The New Paper spoke to agree: respect for wildlife comes first.
There are unspoken rules: don't get too close, don't disturb birds while they're nesting, and sometimes, don't share their location.
"Some people may not want to broadcast where a rare bird is, especially if it's with chicks," said Mr Shahrul. "It's not selfishness. It's for the bird's own good."
For Lim Kim Seng, 64, birding is a lifelong passion. The semi-retired nature guide has been watching birds since he was a child growing up on a kampung farm.
"Why would anyone not do birding?" he said with a laugh. "It's a form of exercise. I like the fresh air and being in touch with nature. Whenever I return from a session, I feel much better than before."
"Although I've been birding for more than 50 years, I still discover new things about nature, and about myself."
Unlike some who chase the perfect shot, Mr Lim prefers to observe birds through binoculars. "For me, capturing an image is good enough. It doesn't have to be picture perfect."
'Like making a new friend'
Ms Khor is a self-proclaimed "by-the-way birder". With kids, elderly parents and work, she squeezes birding into her schedule whenever she can.
"I've never sat there for six hours. I don't have that kind of time," she said with a laugh. "Some people think birders are crazy, but most of us have lives."
Ms Khor grew up following her father on nature walks and rediscovered birding during the pandemic, when high-quality camera gear became more accessible. "Every time I see a new bird, it's an unforgettable moment akin to making a new friend."
The mother of two recalled several mornings spent trekking to a remote part of Pasir Ris in hopes of spotting a black-capped kingfisher, only for it to never appear. Not long after, the area was cleared for development.
"That was one of the saddest attempts," she said. "But sometimes it's not about the shot. Just being in nature is enough."
A new generation takes flight
Contrary to the stereotype of birding as an older person's pastime, younger Singaporeans are increasingly taking wing. The Bird Society of Singapore is currently led by an 11-member council, with a majority of its members in their 20s and 30s.
Young enthusiasts explore nature through their lenses, proving birding is no longer just for older generations. PHOTO: ST FILE
Ms Khor has seen the shift firsthand: "A lot of the conservationists and people heading societies, like the Bird Society of Singapore, are quite young.
"And I've seen teenagers, 13, 14 years old, who are really sharp, amazing photographers, and already winning competitions."
What sets them apart, she added, is their mindset. "They're great photographers, but more importantly, they have a stronger sense of conservation and that's something I really support."
Ms Khor hopes that as more people pick up the hobby, awareness about conservation will grow too. "It's not just about rare or beautiful birds," she said. "Even the common or 'ugly' ones deserve protection."
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Time has stood still in this corner of Singapore
Time has stood still in this corner of Singapore

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Time has stood still in this corner of Singapore

To be honest, I don't know why I feel so much nostalgia about living in Queenstown. I wasn't born in this estate, nor did I grow up here. Though I visited the area regularly through the late 1970s and early 1980s, when my family went shopping at the Tah Chung Emporium in Commonwealth Avenue or dropped by the old hawker centre in Commonwealth Crescent for cheng tng, Queenstown was not a big part of my childhood. And yet I feel a great sense of sentimentality living here. Whenever I am asked where I live, I proudly reply: "In one of the oldest HDB estates." That, incidentally, is not just local pride speaking. Queenstown was built even before Independence, between the late 1950s and mid-1960s, and is Singapore's first satellite town. Named to commemorate the coronation of Queen Elizabeth in 1953, it's a veritable museum of public housing history. The estate was planned by the Singapore Improvement Trust (SIT), as part of moves to reduce congestion in the city centre amid efforts to tackle the country's housing crunch. The newly formed Housing Board, which took over the SIT's task in 1960, built its first blocks here. Singapore's first flatted factory was also built here, marking the beginnings of the country's industrialisation push. My particular block of flats is located in Commonwealth estate on the north-western end of Queenstown, which was built between 1962 and 1964. Officially named Neighbourhood III, this corner of Queenstown was - and still is - colloquially known as "Chap Lak Lau", or "16 storeys" in Hokkien, for three blocks perched on a hill that were Singapore's tallest HDB blocks at the time. Original fittings such as the 1960s-era doors and window louvres can still be seen around Commonwealth estate. PHOTO: LESLIE KOH Unlike many other old estates in Singapore, Chap Lak Lau has managed to retain much of its past. Most of the HDB blocks built in the 1960s are still around, with some flats even sporting the simple but solid wooden front doors dating back to that era. Several of the shops in the neighbourhood "square", such as the local hardware shop, beauty salon and Chinese medical hall, look like they've been plucked right out of that time, too. Block 115, the first flatted factory, is still around and continues to host a mishmash of companies. This sense of living in a time warp is reinforced by the fact that many of the older HDB estates in Singapore have undergone redevelopment over the years, which has changed the face of the heartland significantly. Nearby, the other parts of Queenstown have seen marked changes. The former Margaret Drive estate ("Chap Si Lau" and "Forfar House") is long gone. It is now the site of HDB skyscrapers and swanky condominiums. The 10-storey flats of Tanglin Halt, or "Chap Lau", are being pulled down. And chunks of Stirling Road have been redeveloped. Farther afield, the formerly new-but-now-old towns of Toa Payoh, Ang Mo Kio and Serangoon have received extensive facelifts and upgrades. Meanwhile, numerous new estates such as Sengkang, Bishan and Bidadari have sprouted up in what were once farmlands and cemeteries. And more changes are coming. Under the Urban Redevelopment Authority's Draft Master Plan 2025, which was unveiled in June, we'll soon be seeing more new neighbourhoods in places like Dover and Kranji, along with more redevelopment in older estates like Woodlands and Yio Chu Kang. As Singapore celebrates its 60th birthday, we appear to have a decreasing number of living reminders of the nation's residential history and shrinking links to the past, at least in the heartland. Living with the past in the present All these changes have made living in my corner of Queenstown even more special. When I moved to Chap Lak Lau in 2004, I was delighted to find that some of my neighbours were the first and only owners of their flats. And they had some wonderful stories to tell, like how they used to rent their homes for $60 a month until they were allowed to buy their flats for a then princely sum of $6,200 under the HDB's new home ownership scheme. This scheme was first rolled out in 1964 - in Queenstown, of course. Some of the shopkeepers who had been there since day one (or whose parents had been) would recall how relatives and friends once labelled them "crazy" for moving "so far away from town". Chatting with these originals made me feel like I had travelled back in time, and become inextricably linked to Queenstown's past. Exploring the area, I was thrilled to discover the derelict concrete remains of what seemed to be a circa-1970s playground, tucked away in a "secret garden" behind my block that featured a broken red-brick path which looked like it had not been repaired for decades. It felt like I had uncovered an artefact from my past - even though I had never set foot in this corner of Commonwealth before. Once the tallest HDB blocks in Singapore, the three 16-storey blocks (right) that gave Commonwealth estate its colloquial name, Chap Lak Lau, are now dwarfed by the city skyline in the distance. On the left, in white, blue and red, is Singapore's first flatted factory. PHOTO: LESLIE KOH Observers have coined a term for this strange yet common sense of nostalgia for a place or experience that we don't actually know or have. It's called "anemoia", and I'm most familiar with it. It's that slightly sad, sentimental feeling I get whenever I enter a traditional-looking coffee shop with a dirty mosaic floor in a part of Singapore I've never visited before, or spot an ancient Singer sewing machine that still goes chug-chug-chug when I step on its treadle. Bittersweet feelings aside, nostalgia has its value. It makes us feel personally and intrinsically connected to a place, giving us a sense of stability and belonging when life seems to be moving past us too quickly. Whenever I return to Chap Lak Lau from a visit to Orchard Road or Shenton Way, where malls and office towers come and go, I experience a subtle but tangible sense of homecoming as I walk past 60-year-old shops, through a 60-year-old open-air carpark, and along the common corridor to reach my 60-year-old flat. Returning to an old estate makes me feel that I am a part of the old Singapore, that I am a true-blue, home-grown heartlander, even if I don't always speak Singlish and sometimes crave pasta instead of char kway teow. Not only that, it gives me a comforting sense that I still belong here, even if I sometimes feel left behind and bewildered by the latest technological developments and social trends. In Commonwealth estate's neighbourhood square, you can still find shops - from a beauty salon to hardware store - set up like they were 50 years ago. PHOTO: LESLIE KOH Not everything old is gold But that doesn't mean I'm resisting or mourning the changes that have been made to Commonwealth estate over the past 40 or so years that I've known it. I am immensely thankful, for instance, for the flat upgrading programme that added an extra room to my 600 sq ft flat, and for the network of covered walkways that link my block all the way to the nearest bus stops, MRT station, and even to Holland Village, almost 1km away. I'm a big fan of the new hawker centre with its swanky glass-walled lift and escalator. And I'm totally appreciative of the recent narrowing of some of the lanes in the estate to make them uni-directional and thus easier for senior citizens to cross. These changes have altered the landscape of my little kampung and made it look a little more modern, a little less nostalgic - but I don't mind in the least. Because, if I'm honest, nostalgic living isn't always comfortable. Commonwealth is full of old-school kopitiams and traditional provision shops, but there are times when I wish we had a nice, new shiny mall to hang out in and to shop and dine in air-conditioned comfort. Old-school biscuits stored in old-school ways are an everyday scene in Commonwealth estate. PHOTO: LESLIE KOH The common corridors in all the blocks here are a wonderful throwback to the 1960s, but I'd really prefer to have a private nook next to my flat, like many of the newer flats do, to store my bike. Right now, I have to lock it to a railing along the corridor just next to the lift, which I'm sure is a hindrance as well as an eyesore to my neighbours. And while I've always loved the 1960s-era layout of my flat, with its giant bedrooms, I could do without its 1960s-era hollow-brick walls, which let noise and vibration through with the greatest efficiency. I could also do with another toilet. My flat was built back in the day when it was probably considered a luxury to have a loo inside one's flat rather than a common outhouse for the whole village, which might explain the tiny, cramped unit. So I'm always hankering for a more modern one, with a shower area that can be cordoned off, so that the floor isn't always wet. Which it is now. Changes? Modernity? Bring them on, I say. Preservation and development: An inevitable balance Much has been made of the need for the preservation of old buildings, and for not despoiling old estates with ugly modern facilities. I understand the sentiments, especially when looking at a colonial building or standing in an old, dragon-themed playground. But I'm just as supportive of glitzy new malls, more covered walkways and porches, sheltered multi-storey carparks and manicured estate gardens and park connectors, because, well - they're nice. Neither am I one to bemoan the tearing down of old estates and establishment of new housing estates. Though I might feel a little sayang about the loss of Singapore's rural or forested areas, I accept the simple equation that more people means more homes needed. In the debate on preservation versus development, I'd probably stand right in the middle. Preserving history and heritage is certainly important on a spiritual level but, I would argue, so is improving the standard of living and comfort on a physical level. Physical comfort, surely, has an impact on our emotional, mental and spiritual well-being. Old homes and buildings are great to look at, but I'm not sure I want to live in one, if the modern comforts are missing. With the age of Chap Lak Lau past the halfway mark of 99 and approaching its end-of-lease deadline with each passing year, I may soon have to come face to face with this dilemma in a personal way. Ever since Tanglin Halt was slated for the Selective En Bloc Redevelopment Scheme in 2014, rumours have been swirling that my corner of Commonwealth estate could be next. Will I mourn the end of one of Singapore's oldest estates and the passing of an era? Or will I be celebrating the arrival of a new estate and modern flat with all the bells and whistles of the 21st century? I think it'll be both. To be sure, I'll miss the sense of history that's built into the bricks of this neighbourhood. That said, I have to confess that what I might actually miss most about this kampung is not its heritage, but the practical convenience of its location - the access to two MRT lines, the easy amble to Holland Village and the proximity to Orchard Road. And what will I be looking forward to? A shiny new toilet would be nice.

The charm – and drawbacks – of living in a time warp in Singapore
The charm – and drawbacks – of living in a time warp in Singapore

Straits Times

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  • Straits Times

The charm – and drawbacks – of living in a time warp in Singapore

As spanking new estates spring up on an island criss-crossed by MRT lines, a little corner of Queenstown brings you back to the 1960s. In Commonwealth estate's neighbourhood square, you can still find shops set up like they were 50 years ago. To be honest, I don't know why I feel so much nostalgia about living in Queenstown. I wasn't born in this estate, nor did I grow up here. Though I visited the area regularly through the late 1970s and early 1980s, when my family went shopping at the Tah Chung Emporium in Commonwealth Avenue or dropped by the old hawker centre in Commonwealth Crescent for cheng tng, Queenstown was not a big part of my childhood. And yet I feel a great sense of sentimentality living here. Whenever I am asked where I live, I proudly reply: 'In one of the oldest HDB estates.'

'Super entitled': Toa Payoh fire victim faces backlash online over comments
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New Paper

time4 days ago

  • New Paper

'Super entitled': Toa Payoh fire victim faces backlash online over comments

The massive fire that broke out at Block 229 Lorong 8 Toa Payoh on the afternoon of July 29 transfixed Singaporeans. Videos of thick black smoke billowing from a 10th-floor unit, with the fire spreading to the units above, circulated widely. However, sympathy has quickly turned to anger, with the owner of the Toa Payoh flat now facing an online backlash for apparently "blaming" the Singapore Civil Defence Force (SCDF). By the time the SCDF extinguished the fire at around 3.30pm, the unit had been completely destroyed in just over two hours. "Everything is gone," Tan Chee Siah, 55, told CNA. He told the broadcaster that he was in a difficult financial situation, as he previously owned an interior design firm, but lost his job during the Covid-19 pandemic. Since then, he has been taking on temporary delivery jobs to support his family. He resides with his wife, 41, who is unemployed, their three children, helper and dog. "I cannot make ends meet. Now they have no spare clothing... No nothing," 'Super entitled' However, a thread in the r/Singapore subreddit quickly amassed over 220 comments, with netizens slamming Mr Tan for appearing to draw public sympathy. While he was grateful to the firefighters for extinguishing the flames, he also told CNA that he initially believed the flat might have been salvageable. He added that it took the firefighters some time before they began hosing down the flames, adding that improvements are needed to enhance fire safety measures in the estate. "No shame to still blame SCDF for prioritising their own safety, the safety of others, containing the fire and not saving their apartment," said one commentor, who pointed out that the firefighters' job was to extinguish the fire, not save the flat. Another described Mr Tan as "super entitled" for suggesting that SCDF took too long to extinguish the blaze, adding that firefighters are likely required to assess the situation thoroughly before acting. Some also questioned the severity of Mr Tan's financial hardship, pointing out that his household includes a domestic helper, a car, and a pet dog, despite having to provide for three children. One commenter pointed out that his children still have his parents and that Mr Tan should "be grateful".

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