Day 24 - Across the strait

Oil power

 

Where the wind blows

Day 22 - Penjuru, again

Day 21 - Penjuru’s End

Day 20 - Downtown

Day 19 - Turning up the heat

Day 17 - Bright, sunny days

19 FEBRUARY, TUESDAY - TODAY MARKED my first foray into solar energy with SEP at Woodlands Sector 1.

Dr. Freddy Goh, scientist and entrepreneur, kindly spoke with me and then gave me a tour of his small solar cell plant. Unfortunately, the place was hardly photogenic, and there was very little I could do about it, even after walking around for nearly an hour, and disturbing the production workers.

I was very soon shown the door by one of the staff, but realised that Senoko power station was more interesting to the eye.

At 2pm, I went to the Biopolis BIPV to see a working installation of solar cells. The construction was beautiful, but there were not enough people around to give scale to the atrium. Again, a difficult picture.

Day 16 - Gas Gala

18 FEBRUARY, MONDAY - SMART ENERGY officially opened its Mandai Link CNG Mother Station today, and I was there to witness it.“Hey Aziz!” I called out.“Eh! What you doing here?” he asked, and we started chatting while waiting for Mr. Yaacob Ibrahim to arrive.

There wasn’t really much to shoot that day, but what I really needed were the speeches that the VIPs gave, so here is another lousy picture of Mr. Ibrahim filling up the official CNG vehicle at the station. Of course, the station had been running since 31 January 2008.

I hung around and looked for more pictures, but there was nothing really happening since no vehicles were topping up that day. Neither were there any fires, explosions, leaks or anything of the sort. In fact, the loudest noises came from the bouquet stands continually crashing on to the floor because of the gusts of wind that kept blowing.

To date, there are only three CNG players in the local market - Melchers, Scantruck and Alliance and Pinnacle.

“Take this picture!” said a Melchers man, pointing to a car - so I did.

Then it was off home to prepare for the evening shoot with Mr. Quek, the wind turbine man.

Again, I couldn’t get the nice light I wanted, resulting in these unusable pictures:

After which I went to Circuit Road again to try for nicer portraits of the Wee family.

Day 15 - 东游记

12 FEBRUARY, TUESDAY - WHEN I got home, my mother wrinkled her nose at me and scowled. “Where did you go today?” she asked. “You smell like I-don’t-know-what.”

Unlike the last two weeks, today’s work happened mostly in the East.

At 11am, I climbed up the roof access ladder of a block of flats in Marine Parade to find Mr. Quek leaning on a railing, gazing into the distance. We chatted for awhile about his wind turbine project, and I persuaded him to climb on to the tower for some pictures.

“I’m afraid of heights,” he said.“So am I,” I replied. As a gesture of goodwill, I climbed up to join him on his precarious perch. With the wind buffeting our faces, I felt uneasy - the same sensation I had at the incinerator, staring down into space.

Then it was time for tea at the coffeeshop, where he regaled me with tales of his life experiences, and how hard it was to get support for his “strange” projects. Halfway through, I was very distracted by a metallic purple Japanese Bridgestone MB-3 that passed in front of us. I could have sworn it was brand new, despite having been built before 1993. It was - to a vintage bicycle lover - stunning.

We then drove to his office where he showed me his radioactive EXIT signs and a fine, white powder supposedly able to insulate a building from the sun’s heat when mixed into paints.

We drove over to a Biopolis installation where the paint had been applied. Miracle of miracles, the temperature difference between the painted and unpainted surfaces was astounding.

Later that afternoon, I parked myself in Gloria Jean’s at Vivo and made several tens of calls over iced coffee. Then it was off to Circuit Road for some tungsten light bulb hunting.

On the way there, I stopped over in Rowell Road where I popped into a smoke-filled internet cafe to dash off some urgent emails. In the back room, however, it sounded like a rowdy gambling den was in action.

On my way to the bus stop, I bought three bars of Chandrika soap, much to the surprise of the Indian lady at the shop. Then it was off to Circuit Road.

I was early meeting Kanthavel, the excavator operator I met on the Biofuel barge. I got into a chat with three elderly Malay ladies under his block, and found out the most likely place to photograph “naked tungsten light bulbs”.

Kanthavel, 32, brought me to his flat. His flatmate was cooking Sambar curry, and they invited me to sit down for dinner. So I ate (without utensils), watched two Indian serials, a very sexy MTV, and chatted with the family.

Before I left, we sat down for a couple of pictures, and I was on my own again, in search of the elusive light bulbs.

I stood in the carpark below the block of rental apartments, staring into a grid of kitchen windows and muttering to myself in the darkness.

“Nine up and two left. Four up and one right.”

The first household I knocked on replied with a volley of dog barks and two grumpy voices that threatened to let the dog loose on me. Faces peered out of doorways at the commotion.

I tried several units, but without luck. Willy-nilly, I walked into a gathering of middle-aged men and told them what I was looking for.

“I have a naked light bulb,” said one of them who was perched on a bicycle. “You can come up to my place.”

“Be careful,” another man smirked. “He eats people.”

The group laughed and I grinned.

“I’ll watch out,” I said and quickly followed the bicycle man.

Inside his cramped apartment, his only daughter was sitting on the floor, doing her homework on a laptop. His wife excused herself while I climbed on to a double-decker bed, so wobbly it threatened to collapse under my weight.

Mr. Wee quickly fastened one of the bed posts to a wall hanger using a belt.

Standing in a “half-horse stance” for fifteen minutes on a wobbly bed, trying to keep perfectly still at 1/10s whilst framing the scene with my back to the wall was about the most difficult thing I’ve done to date.

Sweat poured down my face and soaked my shirt. My legs trembled uncontrollably. When I finally stopped trying, it was because I could no longer stand up without shaking all over.

I was offered a Diet Coke and a seat. Mr. Wee answered all my questions without question, and was so nice about the intrusion I felt almost guilty.

Then, it was time to go. I reached the ground floor before realising I didn’t note the unit number. I went back up again, took a look, and then went home.

Obviously, the pictures were useless, so I’ll have to go back and make some more. This time, I’m not going to show up empty-handed.

Day 14 - The Gas Men

11 FEBRUARY, MONDAY - EVERYWHERE I went, everyone was still in the New Year mood. Thankfully, Melchers GMBH was in business.

When I arrived, a team of Chinese technicians was installing Compressed Natural Gas tanks in the boots of several cars. I was introduced to Ben, a bear-sized, loud floor manager, who grasped my hand and shook it.

It seemed like for every ten minutes of work, the technicians would break for twenty, and work proceeded at a rather languid pace. I was actually trying not to fall asleep on my feet.

I did speak with a CNG car owner, and watched while they troubleshooted his vehicle.

Then Ben’s voice boomed across the workshop.

“你看，你看！”he cried out, pointing to bubbles of gas escaping from a poorly installed valve. “ 这是谁作的?!”

Thereafter, the technicians were very careful about valves,

I watched as they installed new tanks into the boot of a car, taking up nearly half the boot space.

I watched as they used complex-looking software to adjust the engine timing for the gas intake.

Not a particularly exciting day, but I did learn something new.

Day 12 - La Fin du Monde

4 FEBRUARY, MONDAY - “TUAS SOUTH?” asked the taxi driver. “You’ve got to guide me. I’ve never been there before.”

“Everybody should know Tuas South,” I thought to myself. “After all, it’s where everyone’s refuse ends up.” Almost everyone’s, that is.

Mr Chiong kindly showed me around the incineration plant, brought me to the Central Control Room, and then excused himself to attend to other matters. Left alone, I decided to take the lift to the highest floor and walk down the stairs.

At the Tuas South Incineration Plant (TSIP), they don’t go by floor numbers. Instead, they go by height.

“Let’s go to 11 metres,” one would say, instead of, “let’s go to the fourth floor.”

At 35m, I looked down, and felt my hands becoming wet. The incineration plant is built within a skeletal structure, and the floors that allow operators to walk around are iron grates resting on frames. when I looked down, I could see all the way through to the ground floor.

At every level, valves hissed, gearboxes clanked, and there was a constant moan of machinery. It was like being in the digestive tract of some giant, mechanical creature.

The structure housed six furnaces and boilers; five of them were in operation, consuming thousands of tonnes of waste a day - waste thrown out by households, factories, and offices. You could say it was the detritus of a nation.

Each furnace had a porthole to allow operators to look inside. Wearing gloves, a Mr Chua knocked off the latches from one porthole. The negative air pressure caused air to be sucked in through the porthole instead of blowing out at us, so we were spared from the blistering heat of the roaring furnace.

Then it was off to the refuse bunker - the Hell Hole of Singapore, the End of the World.

Inside the 30-metre pit, massive loads of refuse is dumped round the clock. Refuse crane operators - mostly contracted Malaysian workers - sit in the control room and move an enormous iron grabber to sift through the debris, making sure nothing unusual - like a body, or a bomb - is in the pit.

“Once, we had a gas tank that exploded,” said Mr Chiong.

Mr Chua, who was accompanying me, did not enjoy the prospect of having to enter the bunker, but I wanted to get pictures inside, so he had to follow me to make sure I didn’t fall into the Pit of Hell.

Unlike the other parts of the facility where I hardly noticed the smell, the refuse bunker was where the source of all bad odours come from. Fortunately, it also had negative air pressure - meaning that air was drawn into the furnaces from the pit itself, keeping the smell to a minimum.

We both put on face masks and went in through an access door right at the top. It didn’t smell so bad, but it was too high up, and I nearly got hit by the moving beam holding the grabber, which thundered by ever so often.

We went to a lower level, and the moment I entered the chamber, my eyes began to smart. It was incredible - there were millions of flies everywhere. They weren’t flying around, but settled on every available surface of the bunker.

There was a thick layer of soft, grey dust that carpeted everything in the bunker. Cobwebs were eerily magnified because of the dust, and the particles hung in stalactites from pipes and railings. It was like walking around in the aftermath of the Pinatubo eruption.

Unlike the wood waste facility, I was careful not to get too close to the grabber. I did not want to be knocked into the pit, fall over the edge, touch the walls, or get covered in the thick, stinking liquid from domestic waste. It was a bit like shooting on tiptoe.

I made poor Mr Chua accompany me for nearly another hour, and then left to see other parts of the plant.

In the reception area, a lorry driver was arguing with TSIP staff about not being able to dump bulky logs into the bunker.

Next door to TSIP, Keppel-Seghers was building a smaller, privately-run, incineration plant.

I hung around for another half an hour, then quickly left for Biofuel before it got dark, but it was too late - the barge operator had closed the barge, saying that it was too full. I took some more pictures at the plant, and then went home, smelling like garbage.

Day 11 - Touch Wood

3 FEBRUARY, SUNDAY - THE BARGE bound for Thailand was being loaded with wood waste from Biofuel Industries today, so I headed home after Mass, grabbed my gear, and was off.It has been sometime since I last shot anything in action, and I was feeling a bit nervous about how things would turn out.It wasn’t easy. I like to go in close, and everytime the bulldozer dumped its load of wood waste, I was covered in clouds of steam and dust. So was the camera - I had to use my t-shirt to wipe the lens clean before every shot.

Fortunately, I wore boots that day, because I had to plod up the little hills of steaming wood chips, and down again. I tried high angles, low angles, close and far, but couldn’t seem to get a nice picture.

Then, I got on to one of the trucks and went to Tuas Road End where the barge was being loaded. There, I talked to the excavator operators and got shots from the top of the growing mound of wood waste.

After six hours of non-stop shooting and climbing around, I was totally covered in dirt, and so was my gear. My memory cards were full, the light was gone, and it was time to go home.

Meanwhile, the truck drivers and excavator men would be working non-stop until the next evening, making sure the barge was packed solid before it left.

“I drive 24-hours, then sleep a couple of hours, then drive again,” said Derrick, one of the truck drivers, in Mandarin. ”The barge has got to be full before midnight tomorrow, or else it will cost another USD4,000 to keep it docked.”

Day 10 - Pause for effect

31 JANUARY, THURSDAY - THE SHOOT with Biofuel was postponed yet again because “of the tide”, said CEO Eugene Lee. Apparently, the barge that was supposed to be loaded couldn’t come to shore.

So, I decided to edit photos instead, and at night, I went out to look for more HDB shots.

Going down memory lane, it was about a year ago that the ExxonMobil refinery had a power trip which shut down one of the process units. They had to burn off the excess gases at the flare stack, creating a huge flame that lit up the Western landscape through the night. Taken with a Nikon consumer digital camera, this was the best picture it could manage.

By morning, the flame was still larger than usual, and the flue gases, mostly carbon dioxide and water vapour, was condensing into a cloud that periodically merged with other clouds and drifted away.

Incidentally, the USA has disallowed the flaring of excess gases to save resources and protect the environment from pollution. Singapore, it seems, has not done so.

Day 9 - Pioneer from Nanyang

30 JANUARY, WEDNESDAY - ONE YEAR ago, I was a student in the Advanced Photojournalism class when I looked out of the school windows and saw the SAFTI-MI tower, known to some as the Merdeka tower, flying the state flag in the wind.

“My, what a sight,” I thought. “Just the right subject for patriotism (one of the themes we had to shoot).

I tried all sorts of angles, from all sorts of places. I realised we were on a hill. And a building on the hill made the vantage point even higher. I stared at the rooftop and thought: “I’ve got to get up there.”

I got up there. One year ago, with a D70S and shorter lenses. Climbing the water tank, getting covered in fibreglass and itching all the way to hell and back. Up and down that roof and tank, one time, two times, three times, six.

One year later, I was back up on that roof again. This time, I could see very clearly where this shot was going.

“Protecting our national interests” was the cliche. The red and white smokestacks matching the red and white flag. The flue gas forming a backdrop to the flag. Tower in front of towers. But no humans, of course. That only happens to National Geographic photographers who camp on the roof and get struck by lightning.

Sam and I stood up there for three hous, until the sun went down and the tiny pin-pricks of lights that adorned the intricate pipelines glittered like frosted Christmas decorations.

Then it was time to go. We had a Malay dinner at Boon Lay interchange, sitting on one of the dirtiest floors in the country that was covered in invisible layers of dried spit, vomit, piss and mud, while eating noodles out of greased paper.

His buttocks were itching like hell from the fibreglass and so were my arms and neck. It was risky, dangerous work.

This reminded me of what Rachel and my mother always asked: ” Why other people don’t have to work so hard? Why must you always have to do difficult things like that? Why can’t you be like everybody else?”

“I don’t know,” I always replied. “I’m stupid lor, so I just have to work harder. Farmers must work hard.”

We took the Bus No. 251 to the Bird Park and climbed Jurong Hill on foot, a rather dangerous attempt at night as drivers and cyclists came hurtling down the slope.

At the end of the short march, we made it to the top of the tower and climbed up to the roof, startling a few hugging lovers in the process (notice how every damn hill top view point is littered with a smattering of embracing couples).

We could see Jurong Island spread out before us to the left, but the Exxon oil refinery was obscured by trees on the right. Further to the left, a massive multi-storey heavy vehicle parking lot stood lighted, it’s containers parked on all levels. This reminded me of the huge complex built to house tanks and other armoured vehicles at Sungei Gedong.

Imagine the amount of concrete it needed to support the weight of the containers - each unladen trailer and box weighs four tonnes. Each box can carry some 30 tonnes. I thought about the amount of energy the cab needed to pull the container to that height, and the energy expended in keeping the lights burning all night.

Then there was the roundabout just outside Jurong Island, a fantastic array of slip roads and lights.

And the first checkpoint before crossing the link bridge to The Island - the first frontier into Industrial Paradise. With the 300mm, I could see the words on the signboards at the checkpoints. I could even see the guards manning it as they stood around under the lights.

“Do you know that I saw a giant turtle and a stingray while I was guarding The Island?” Sam asked me.

“That’s damn cool,” I said.

“I saw pollutants,” he added. “Yellow and green stuff, discharging directly into the sea. Most likely on weekends.”

“Cool,” I said. I wished I was there to see it for myself.

We got back to Boon Lay at 23:29. Sam ran into the train station while I hung around, waiting for the bus to bring me home.

When I finally got back over an hour later, I was aching all over again. I peeled off my shirt and found that my shoulders were marked with deep, red stripes where the straps had bitten in. And then I looked at my pictures and wondered if it was worth it, because it didn’t look like it was.

Day 8 - Bukom from Labrador

29 JANUARY, TUESDAY - IT HAS been quiet on the photography front, with me trying to update the blog, edit pictures, and settle a-million-and-one other things threatening to derail my life such as meals, accounts, bicycles, bad buyers, good sellers, music and so on.

I called Tuas Power and spoke with Talia. Unfortunately, she and the rest of management were just about to go on leave for a week (I forget what for). Too bad. I sent her an email anyway, and will follow up on that one.

I also called the Ulu Pandan incinerator and was told to contact a “more modern one” as “we are quite old and don’t contribute much power to the grid”. I also confirmed that the incinerator was due for decommissioning next year. What a pity - the smokestack is such a beautiful landmark. The man from Tuas South was just about to give a tour, so I emailed him too, and will probably call back to ask for a meeting.In addition, all my shoots this week were postponed to Thursday, so I dragged myself out of the house at 17:00 to get some pictures of the Shell refinery on Pulau Bukom.

The strait that separates Singapore from Pulau Bukom is busy with sea traffic, and depending on luck, there are either many vessels at the same time, or none at all in the frame.

Suddenly, one of the stationary ships belched a thick cloud of white smoke, followed by a large cloud of black. A loud ‘pop’, rather like an artillery shot, echoed.

From Labrador Park, you can get quite a good view of the strait and the refinery from the lover’s balcony. The only thing that bugged me all night long was, well, the lovers.

Everytime a couple came up on to the platform, the whole damn thing would shake with their footsteps. And their throes of hugging and giggling caused the place to vibrate, making 30-second exposures impossible. And with the 300mm lens, I could see every pipe and railing on the island. So, I had to reshoot, and then reshoot.

By 22:00, I was about done. Done with the shooting and done with all the couples who came up to get bitten by mosquitoes. It was a very long walk out to the bus stop, and a very long ride home. I did see a very good-looking girl at the Scotts Road bus stop though - a rather unusual sight in Singapore.

Day 7 - Face Off

25 JANUARY, FRIDAY - I ARRIVED at the Jalan Buroh SPC station at 11am to find the crane moving the CNG terminal into position.

“Ah ha,” I thought to myself. “This is a great news picture.”

I introduced myself to Gilbert. Standing beside him were two men who looked very unhappy. One was from Sembcorp, the other from SPC.

“Don’t worry,” said Gilbert to the two men. “He’s not from the media.”

“Who said you could come here to take pictures?” they asked.

“I asked Gilbert yesterday and he said okay,” I replied.

“How did you know about this event?” they persisted.

“I heard it being mentioned at the energy seminar yesterday,” I said.

“Well, we can’t allow you to take pictures. We will settle this with Gilbert later, but I’m sorry, no pictures allowed,” they said. “The CNG terminal may come from Melchers, but Gilbert can’t unilaterally decide. This is SPC land and the gas is from SembCorp. We’re big companies and we have to clear with our Corp Comms too.”

“I’ll show you the pictures after I’m done,” I tried. “You can have them. I can’t wait to clear from Corp Comms because this is happening now,” I stressed. “Once it’s over, it’s over. I can’t come back and get more pictures.”

“That’s your problem,” they said. “You should have asked us earlier,” they said.

“How could I have asked you earlier when I only found out about this yesterday?” I replied.

“No, sorry, you can’t take pictures,” they said.

“But it’s for my thesis,” I insisted, getting irritated. “I have to have this picture because it is a milestone event in Singapore.”

“We have someone taking pictures too,” they said. “You can have our pictures later.”

I looked around and saw a man creeping around with a compact digital camera. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“I can’t use your pictures. My work is photo-based. I have to take the pictures myself. I can’t use yours and pass them off as my own,” I said.

“Look, it’s simple. Either you can’t complete your thesis, or I lose my job. I’m sorry, but I cannot allow you to take pictures. You should have chosen some other topic,” said a large lady in red.

I had mixed feelings. I was angry that two huge corporations were making a big fuss about nothing, frustrated that I could simply walk to the main road and shoot because it was in public view, and sorry that Gilbert had to face the crap on my account.

I could have had my way and taken the pictures under fire, but for my contact, Gilbert, who would have a lot of explaining to do when I left, if I managed to leave without getting lynched.

“Sorry Gilbert,” I said when the others had walked away. “I didn’t mean to make things so difficult for you.”

“No, no, I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t know they’re so sticky about this. Tell you what, they’re installing another station in Mandai. Go off first, and I’ll give you a call in a few minutes. I don’t want them to see me giving you a number now.”

“Thanks, Gilbert,” I said. I was still holding my camera slung from my neck. The wide lens was pointing at the station. I wasn’t going to walk off without a single picture, good or bad, not after paying $15.00 for a cab and carrying all my gear down.

I pressed the shutter twice. The clicks were inaudible over the roar of heavy vehicles passing just metres away.

“I’m going to have to ask you to put away your camera,” said the SembCorp man with forced officiousness.

“Sure, no problem,” I said.

The SembCorp man was young and not bad-looking. He had the look of an energetic, friendly but firm character. I was pretty sure we would have made good friends outside this tricky situation. It was a pity we had to challenge each other now.

The woman in the red top and bulky man in glasses from SPC, on the other hand, I would not have wanted to meet again. Thankfully, they weren’t anyone I knew.

By this time, the crane had retracted. I said goodbye to Gilbert and walked some distance away to get a taxi to Mandai.

Within minutes, Gilbert messaged me. He gave me the contact number of someone from Smart Energy who was building a CNG complex in Mandai Link. I got the cab, and we were headed there in minutes.

On the way, I called up William and told him about my project. It’s not easy to explain what seems to be a very dubious concept over the phone in one minute, but it’s something I have to do almost everyday now. He listened, then gave me the number of another man called William to call.

William Chua was more than willing to tell me about SMART’s CNG system. He gave me a tour of the station and explained to me the concept of the “mother”, “daughter” and “conventional” CNG stations.

“Ours is a mother,” he said proudly. I could have taken that expression to mean something else, which would not have been inappropriate. We talked about the CNG industry in Singapore as a whole, and he expressed his disappointment that the government was not doing more to support the use of cleaner fuels.

His remarks, needless to say, cannot be mentioned here, but we had a common understanding that the big guns had installed nothing more than a token machine in Jurong compared to his “serious” setup in Mandai.

I got as much information about CNG from William, and quickly headed back to NIE for my music theory class.

Day 6 - Puppet Show

24 JANUARY, THURSDAY - AT 3PM, I arrived at the ISEAS seminar room for a talk on energy in Singapore, presented by MTI’s Phua Kok Keong.

There was an unexpectedly large turnout, and tables on both sides of the speaker were lined with industry representatives and microphones.

There was nothing really new in the presentation, but the question and answer session made clear Singapore’s stand on climate change and clean energy (the dialogue has been paraphrased to keep it concise):

Q: Why are we building a fourth power plant when we already have excess capacity?
A: We’re preparing for an increase in demand.

Q: Why is Singapore not volunteering to reduce emissions at the cost of economic growth?
A: Singapore can do very little about climate change on its own. If we compare standards amongst Asian cities, we are one of the best. Refineries are fuel-intensive. If we force them to relocate, we could reduce our own emissions, but that is just shifting the problem elsewhere. Might as well have them in Singapore where we can at least guarantee strict emission controls.

Q: Why is there no incentive to get car owners to convert to Compressed Natural Gas?
A: The real objective of introducing CNG is to get diesel vehicles, which are not as clean as petrol vehicles, to convert. When we allow conversion to take place, we want the actual usage of CNG to go up. We don’t want to incentivise petrol vehicles to convert just for tax rebates and then have them still use petrol.

Q: Singapore accounts for 0.15% of global CO2 emissions. What about the comparative country size?
A: We don’t have comparative figures. Singapore already uses 80% natural gas for power generation. Even Hong Kong still uses about 40-50% coal for power generation. We’re nearly there in terms of clean energy.

Q: There seems to be tension between our economic interests and the global issue (of climate change). Why doesn’t the MTI carry out a public campaign?
A: Countries are of course interested in their national interests. A large part of our emissions come from our refineries that are export-oriented. In fact, 63% of commutes during rush-hour are on public transport. What is needed is a global framework on climate change. Certain countries, like us, have very little alternatives in terms of energy sources. It is the National Environment Agency who formulates the national masterplan for energy efficiency.

Q: In the 1980s, Yeo Ning Hong rejected our proposal to bring electric vehicles to Singapore. Other countries had been using them for years by that time. Yeo said: “We get $75 million a year in gasoline taxes. We don’t want you flooding our streets with your cheap, electric vehicles.”
A: We are already testing fuel cell vehicles in Singapore. Those who want to test hybrid vehicles in Singapore can apply for a waiver of taxes.

Q: Why is there no price structure on the electricity bill so that consumers can plan their consumption throughout the day? And how can you consider nuclear power to be cleaner when it produces 66 times more carbon emissions than alternatives?
A: Real-time pricing will allow consumers to plan consumption throughout the day. The electricity vending system will use smart meters that will give real-time pricing. Why we haven’t moved faster on the system is because it takes time to implement. There will be a pilot project in Marine Crescent using smart meters. When you switch on your TV, you want it come on. Nuclear power seems to be the best.

Q: District cooling plants to be used in the Integrated Resorts are not as efficient as claimed. In normal buildings, about 50-60% of the power is used for cooling. “Green buildings” put in trivial things which don’t mean anything in terms of real energy savings. And I have unprintable comments about the so-called Platinum Standard. The effort to “go green” is just diverting attention from more pressing issues.
A: My degree is in Economics, and I’m not very well-versed in the technical issues. Let me find out more about your points and get back to you.

Q: Why don’t we make more use of biogas from waste separation? There is no system currently for waste separation which can use the methane for co-generation plants.
A: …goes on to talk about co-gen plants, then says…we do have IUT Global currently running a 6MW food waste plant.

At the end of the day, it seems that Singapore is really not that interested in clean energy after all, aside from its token gestures to satisfy global opinion.

What did come out of the seminar was that I met Gilbert, a salesman from C. Melchers GMBH, whom I overheard was installing the first CNG station at the SPC station along Jalan Buroh the next day. He gave me his card, and told me to call him the next morning.

Day 5 - Skeletons in the Closet

23 JANUARY, WEDNESDAY - I CALLED Eugene Lee, the CEO of Biofuel Industries, and by 3pm, I was sitting outside his container office, listening to the rumble of fully-loaded trucks weighing in at the site before dumping their load of wood waste.

To kill time, i decided to call the PA Advisor for ExxonMobil. After several attempts, I finally got through to her. In an earlier email, she denied me access to photograph the refinery from inside. Over the phone, her answer was the same.

I tried all the approaches: I’ll show you my pictures, it’s for a school project, it will be published in a book, it won’t negatively portray your company, the pictures will look good, it’s a necessary part of the energy scape in Singapore, I’ll give your company the pictures for free, let’s work out a contract, I really need it, let’s talk in person, I’ll get government approval.

“You can go to the government. But they’ll still have to come back to me because I am The Public Affairs Advisor,” she said.

“Is there anyone else I can speak to regarding this?” I asked.

“You mean someone above me?” she asked.

“Yes, that’s what I mean,” I replied. “Someone whom I can sit down with and discuss this project.”

“That would be me,” she said, smugly. “Even my bosses would still have to consult me on this, and I’m sorry, I’m very busy this week and I have no time to meet you. Even if you sent in a proposal, it would have to go to America and by the time it got back, your deadline would be over.”

“How long does it take?” I asked.

“About a month,” she replied.

“I can wait,” I replied.

“No,” she said. “I’m afraid this is not possible.” 

Eventually, the conversation degenerated into my begging for a personal meeting again, but even that was rejected.

I wondered what sort of woman, who in her personal capacity might possibly be attractive to a man, could be so tough in her corporate role. I could not understand the shedding of all human-ness because of her office.

“What sort of public relations person turns down a face-to-face meeting?” I wondered. “Either they are untrained, or they are highly-trained to protect themselves from public scrutiny.”

This was my first encounter with the tightly-closed doors of the energy sector in Singapore - one that aggresively protects itself, not from terrorism or security threats, but from public knowledge and the consequent outcry.

As a source told me a few days before: “Exxon is one of the dirtiest companies. They’ll never let you in there.”

“Very well,” I thought, “the harder it is to get, the more I want it. I won’t stop working until I am dead or in jail.”

On second thoughts, I could very well be dead or in jail long before I even got close to completing my work. But as my reasoning goes, better dead than to fail, for either way, I won’t get another chance at school.

When Eugene finally arrived, I went through my entire spiel about “energy in Singapore” for the third time, and we came to a deal - I could shoot on 28 January, when the trucks were going to load a barge, and he could use my pictures for his portfolio.

“Why can’t the big companies deal the same way?” I wondered. Perhaps they have something to hide. According to sources who cannot be named, refineries are “very dirty” businesses, but the Singapore government closes “not one, but both eyes” because our economy depends on the immense wealth generated by their products.

“If you want to shoot these sort of pictures, you should come during the weekend,” said The Source, “or when the wind is blowing toward Indonesia. That’s when you see all the smoke.

“You think they are really afraid of terrorists meh?” he asked. “They don’t want people to see what they are doing ah. And when you see the smoke is brown…ah,” he said, shaking his head. Then he saw my smokestack pictures.

“Wah. If you show people that picture, they will die,” he said, referring to The Refinery.

Later on, I managed to speak with Mr Goh, the Biofuel banker, again. He thinks that not everybody appreciates what Biofuel is doing. “SIngaporeans like to complain about everything,” he said. “They complain that our waste wood site is an eyesore. Tell me, who will really drive all the way from Ang Mo Kio to Shipyard Crescent just to see our site?

“If our neighbours complain, I understand. See, they complain, we put up walls to block the sight. It must be our competitors out to make trouble.”

“Does the government support your project?” I asked.

“Ha,” he replied. “Don’t talk about it. In Europe and other developed countries, you have a clean energy businesses, you get soft loans, you get this and that. Here, we’re on our own.

“Singaporeans should appreciate what we’re doing for the country. If people like us don’t find a way to make use of our waste, what’s going to happen to it in the future? Our children are going to have all sorts of health problems next time,” he went on. I didn’t make it for my music class that day. Again, I got no pictures from Biofuel, but at least, I seemed to have secured an appointment for Monday. I only hope it holds up. On my way to the bus stop which seemed like a mile away, I shot these pictures, which anyone who passed by would be able to see for themselves.

Carrying four lenses, the D2X, my laptop, a tripod, and a thick stack of books and notes, I headed off to what was to a long night out.

The next stop after Biofuel was Jurong Hill - a natural choice since 251 passed by the Bird Park. I tried to get a taxi from the Bird Park stand to bring me to the top of the hill, but was flatly refused since the driver had to queue up all over again. In theory, I could have complained about him, but I had other things to worry about that day.

Gathering up my twenty kilos of gear, I trudged up the winding slope. I was soaked by the time I got to the top, and although I could see all of Jurong Island, the Exxon smokestacks remained out of reach as the trees were blocking the view. I bashed through some tapioca shrubs, and aimed as best as I could through the brush, but this was all I got:

To add to my misery, everytime I bent over to adjust the camera, swarms of mosquitoes landed on my jeans and bit into my buttocks. By the time I left, I was soaked in sweat and covered in lumps. This time, I got a cab to Jalan Buroh, again to try The Smokestacks. The sun was setting, and as luck would have it, it set right behind a chimney.

Then it was off to get closer pictures of The Refinery. By the time I arrived at a vast open field, it was dark. I plodded and stumbled in the darkness, weighed down with nearly twenty thousand dollars worth of equipment, and slowly made my way to the oil storage tanks. There was no one in sight, and I could not see any security cameras pointed my way.

Now, if only there were people climbing up and down the stairs on the storage tanks - but that only happens to National Geographic photographers, right?

After blundering around in the pitch-dark field for nearly an hour, I found this picture. Again, because the camera was dreadfully near the ground, I had to bend over for the mosquitoes and other insects. My legs began trembling from a half-squat, so I quickly finished these pictures (two minutes each) and packed up.

Another reason was because I used the flash to illuminate the foreground. Any army men walking around would have seen those flashes of light directed at the refinery, and I didn’t want to be surrounded by swarms of policemen. Even whilst trotting out of the field, I kept looking over my shoulder for the depressing red and blue police car lights that spelt trouble.

Next, it was on to the Pandan reservoir where I wanted pictures of the Teban Garden estate rising out of the water, all aglow in electricity. Obviously, what I imagined didn’t quite turn out to be.

Then, it was off to my old haunt, Penjuru End. This time, Bus No. 78 took me halfway there, and I walked the remaining ten minutes to the spot.

A Bangladeshi guard who was looking after the shipyard next door came over to see my pictures, and we chatted between shots.

Then, along came a tanker which parked conveniently in front of the power station, blocking my view and ruining the picture with its bright lights. I took the next shot before packing up. Besides, I was already covered in sandfly bites, the tide was coming in, and I realised that I was actually very tired and wanted an excuse to go home.

I wearily made my way to the bus stop, and miracle of miracles, the last bus came along. Without even reaching the stop, I flagged it down in the middle of the road. I got on, and threw myself on the green seats - those reserved for the elderly, pregnant and infirm.

At that point, I felt very old, overburdened, and unable to move another inch. It was 1am.

Day 4 - Intelligence

22 JANUARY, TUESDAY - The early afternoon was spent talking to Jessica over lunch at the SPH canteen. She gave me quite a few ideas about the energy industry, and listed out potential contacts I could look up later on.

Apparently, the Money desk is the most clued in on energy developments in Singapore. I suppose this is because energy is really all about money, (and very little to do with the environment).

I then went back to my desk and printed out articles and pictures related to energy development in Singapore, adding about a kilo to my compulsory deadweight of daily baggage for reading while in eternal transit on the bus.

It was 3:30pm. I took a cab down to the Institute of Southeast Asian Studies (ISEAS) and bought a book about the energy situation in Singapore. I also signed up for an energy seminar on Thursday. Meanwhile, the cab was waiting, so I quickly got out of the bookshop and went for Rachel’s swim trial in Yishun.

While she lapped the pool, I lapped up two chapters of The Book.

I suppose I shouldn’t expect myself to be shooting intensely every single day, but not producing pictures makes me feel like I’ve wasted time, so here’s one that shows where all that fossil fuel goes to.

Day 3 - Initial Contact

21 JANUARY, MONDAY - AT NINE in the morning, I dialled Biofuel’s number and got Bryan. I explained my case again, and he asked me to meet him at 3pm. I brought along all my gear, just in case.

Biofuel Industries is a local start-up who makes money by buying wood waste from industrial and tree-pruning sources, then processes it and sells the chips to Indonesia where they burn it to generate power.

At the same time, Biofuel has contracted someone to build a powerplant which they will use to burn the wood waste themselves. Some of the power will be used for internal consumption, and the excess will be sold to the national grid.

A good idea actually, just like the government incineration plants – you get revenue from people dumping the waste, and you get revenue from selling power. You can even earn carbon credits - something I need to read more about.

There, I met Mr Goh, who described himself as the “banker” for this start-up. “We don’t allow photography here”, he said flatly.“Ah, but don’t worry,” I said. I only need a picture of your hands holding the wood chips.

I showed him my National Geographic magazine. I gave him my credentials, and explained to him what I was doing. It was only when I got home that I realised every other damn picture of biofuels is that of a pair of hands holding corn, waste, beans, you name it.

I pressed for an appointment with the CEO, Eugene Lee, and surreptitiously copied his number from a whiteboard hanging in the container office.

I left with no pictures, and trudged my way to the bus stop overlooking the ExxonMobil refinery.

I took Bus No. 251 up and down the roads, trying to find a vantage point to shoot from. I even shot some pictures from the bus windows, but of course, they turned out to be crap.

“What amazes the eye does not amaze the camera,” I thought.

Undeterred, I walked very slowly from the Boon Lay interchange to the housing estate about ten minutes away. I went up and down in lifts, trying to find a good spot overlooking The Smokestacks.

By then, the sun was about to set, and the light played on the landscape, changing every minute or so. As the clouds swept in and out of the area, the plumes of smoke changed shape.

I realised that it was going to be a stake-out and shoot kind of job to get the ideal smokestack picture.

“Where am I going to find the time and place to do this?” I wondered. From experience, staying in one place for too long with a tripod and camera is a sure way to invite trouble.

Day 2 - First Call

SATURDAY, 19 JANUARY - IN THEORY, no one is supposed to work on Saturdays, but I called Biofuel Industries anyway at 6pm from a number I copied the night before off the side of a truck the night before, just in case.

“Hello,” said a female voice who sounded like it hailed from mainland China. I took awhile to explain my cause, and The Voice asked me to call a man named Bryan on Monday.

“So they do work weekends,” I thought sadly as I went to dinner.

Day 1 - Tuas Tour

FRIDAY, 18 JANUARY - IN A rather inauspicious start to my Final Year Project, I was nearly late getting to the loan counter to get my equipment.

I managed to get Shyam to sign the loan forms in a hurry and drew out a D2X, 17-55mm, 14mm Sigma, and the big-ass 300mm f2.8 before the counter closed.

Mr Duffy kindly loaned me his office space to dump all the twenty kilos of gear before I rushed to NIE for my music class.

That night, Yangchen agreed to be the driver as we toured the Tuas industrial estate, checking out shoot spots and getting long-exposure pictures. It was a good partnership – I knew the places, and he was good with the camera, forcing me to aim for perfectly sharp and composed pictures to match his.

We shot ships being worked on from across the Tuas basin. Streams of glowing sparks cascading along the towering hull, bursting into showers as they hit the hanging anchors before expiring as they hit the water.

We shot the ExxonMobil smokestacks from Jalan Buroh and Pioneer Road, before getting spotted by an army patrol who called the police.

As we were tailing a Biofuel truck into Shipyard Crescent, the police pulled us over for questioning. A CID man then drove over from Outram to check our pictures before giving us the all-clear.

“We’re shooting chimneys,” we said. “We like industrial pictures.”

“If it’s only this kind of shots, it’s okay”, said the CID man. “But you know lah. Ang-moh place, they are very protective. See the signs,” he added, gesturing to the main road where “no photography” signs were put up.

“But we took these from a distance. And it’s in public view,” we countered.

“No problem,” he said. “Carry on”.

Then, we headed over to Penjuru End to get shots of the Pulau Seraya Power Station before daybreak. At that point, my stomach started to heave over from the curry I ate for dinner. Beads of cold sweat started forming on my face. My arms were covered in insect bites.

Drained, we drove back to NTU to try and photograph the Exxon smokestacks in the rising sun from the Research Plaza rooftop. It was locked.

Wasted, we went over to Bukit Batok for breakfast before I headed home in a cab. Thank God for taxis – it would have been rather clumsy for me to carry home all that gear in a bus.

In about fourteen hours of non-stop shooting, I had about five nice pictures, but probably none to use for my work.

The swamp by night

HOSING AROUND: The drive-through car wash on Toa Payoh - dialect for “Big Swamp” - Lorong 5 serves a different breed of car after midnight as a queue of night-shift taxis wait to be soaped and sprayed down by a group of young men.

PASAR MALAM: A makeshift grocery springs up every night on this car park entrance off Lorong 7, where dealers unload their fresh produce on the roadside and wait for the big-time buyers to snap it up.

Mr. Zhang, one of dozens of vegetable traders, has been selling chillies here for ten years now, buying them from Malaysia and reselling them on the road.

LIVING OUT OF BOXES: Madam Lai takes a short rest from the night’s work, accompanied by a stray cat she feeds. She earns just $100 a month carting bags as a shop assistant, but gets more from the used cardboard boxes she collects and sells each night.

Malaysian by birth, the 64-year-old came to Singapore with her family when she was just 20. She worked in a Geylang shoe factory until it closed down some years ago, and now plies her night trade with other regulars - mostly elderly men - who prowl the streets, collecting boxes and aluminium cans on their pedal-powered vehicles. [Text and photographs by Alphonsus Chern]

Men and jellies

FILLED WITH ANTICIPATION: A reveller - one of thousands - makes his way past a row of “jellyfish” boats to a vantage point overlooking the bay for the firework display.

TENSION LOOMS: The large helium-filled balloons strain against their anchors as gusts of wind drag them - and their boats - back and forth on the water. Outboard motors warming up, the men of the 35th Battalion Singapore Combat Engineers wait for a signal to move to their second holding point at Clifford Pier.

WAR FOOTING: The fleet of assault boats moves swiftly out of their alcove, ready to invade the bay for the finale.

BAY DISPLAY: The helium-filled balloons rise up to twenty-five metres above the water and are a challenge to control in the windy bay, but the lights suddenly turn on, and the crowd cheers as one. [Text and photographs by Alphonsus Chern]

National Day 2007, Singapore

HUMAN TIDE: Parade-watchers pour out of underground exits as trains disgorge their passengers at the City Hall station. The tightly-packed escalator queue moves so slowly that many decide to climb the staircase - a rare act in Singapore.

BRIDGE WATCH: Multi-hued crowds gather on the Esplanade Bridge hours before the performance begins. Singapore’s main August 9 celebrations - held at the National Stadium in past years - were staged on a floating platform in Marina Bay this year as the stadium was officially closed in June.

WE BUILT THIS CITY: Men - likely foreign nationals - working on a downtown skyscraper get a birds-eye view of the festivities on the bay.

DIGITAL AGE: Among the thousands camped on a grass field overlooking the old Clifford Pier is a Buddhist monk taking in the display with his Fuji camera.

EYES TO THE SKY: The sound of a thousand camera shutters turned skyward is instantly drowned in the roar of five fighters saluting the President of the Republic of Singapore. [Text and pictures by Alphonsus Chern]

Singapore’s tallest wedding confectionery

NOT A PIECE OF CAKE: Singapore’s tallest wedding cake will be on show at Bugis Junction for two days, but no wedding couples will be cutting it, says Executive Chef Jai Krishnan, who oversaw the whole cake-making operation.

Standing nearly five metres tall and weighing 1,400kg - as much as a small car - the traditional fruit cake soaked up 36 bottles of Remy Martin and 16 bottles of Grand Marnier cognac and is adorned with some 200 teardrop-shaped glass crystals, according to Pastry Chef Winnie Goh, who also closely supervised the placement of each crystal.

“It was pure science”, said chef Jai on the cake’s construction. “The first question we asked ourselves was: ‘how do you balance it?’”

The cake needed a custom-made iron skeleton to hold up and distribute the immense weight, and once assembled, had to be carefully aligned by chef artist Husain Anwar to make sure it stood perfectly straight.

The icing-coated work of art is available for sale to the public at $50,000 for the whole cake, or $3,000 for the top tier alone, increasing in price to $12,000 for the bottom tier.

Proceeds from the sale will go to the Happy Home for Children in Phuket which looks after children orphaned during the 2004 tsunami. [Text and photograph by Alphonsus Chern]

Big scoop

THREE MEN IN A TUB: A giant 125-tonne excavator fresh from the coal mines of Kalimantan arrived at Sentosa yesterday on a barge and began work the same afternoon at the Resorts World construction site.

HEAVY METAL: The excavator is the largest ever used at a Singapore site. Weighing as much as 70 cars, it has a bucket capacity of 6.7 cubic metres - a regular excavator can only hold 1.9 cubic metres - and can fill a regular dump truck with a single scoop.

The made-in-Japan monster cost US$800,000, and its use will expedite work on the resort where four million cubic metres of earth have to be removed for an underground car park and other facilities. [Text and photographs by Alphonsus Chern]

Liquid happiness

ART AND SCIENCE: Laurent Bernard, owner and chef of The Chocolate Factory, tempers hot liquid chocolate on a table top by scraping and stirring it with a spatula. His assistant constantly measures the temperature of the cooling chocolate with an infrared scanner until it falls between 29° and 31°C. This ensures that the chocolate, once molded, will have a gloss finish and a crisp snap when eaten. [Text and photographs by Alphonsus Chern]

Evicted

MOVING MADNESS: Some 60 tenants of Alexandra Distripark met in a cafe to discuss their options after Mapletree, the warehouse developer, gave them six months to move out despite some of them having leases that expire only at the end of 2008.

“I’ve been quoted at least $30,000 to move my business,” said Mr Alvin Lee (front row, second from right), “and the new place we are looking into at Depot Road can only offer us a three-year lease.”

The managing director of Tiffany Graphics, which makes printing plates for other companies, added that his company uses sensitive equipment that only the suppliers of the machines know how to transport. Said Mr Lee: “Every time we move, it will cost us a lot of money.” [Text and photographs by Alphonsus Chern]

Many hands make light work

More than 200 students from the Methodist Girls and Raffles Girls schools gathered to pack 2000 “Kids Kits” for children in Laos as part of World Vision’s Gifts-In-Kind programme.

Consisting of a school bag filled with notebooks, erasers, pencils, and other stationery, the kits were packed by Girls Brigade members and students performing their Community Involvement Project.

“I feel good doing this because I’m helping other kids in Laos,” said Secondary 2 student Charmaine Heng (middle, third from right). “They’re not as fortunate as us.”

Mr Michael Chiam, a World Vision manager, described the project as “messy and massive”, but nonetheless a way for the organisers to get the girls - some as young as Primary Two - involved in hands-on work. “We want the girls to participate, as young as they are,” he said. [Text and photographs by Alphonsus Chern]

Old friends

TWO’S COMPANY: Away from the gathering crowd, Ah Meng shares a quiet moment with curator Sam Alagappasamy (L). The 56-year-old has been the orang-utan’s minder since she arrived at the Singapore Zoo 36 years ago, and the two are nearly inseparable. [Text and photograph by Alphonsus Chern]

John Little, Extra-Large

SPANKING NEW: As if striking the pose of store assistant and shopper, John Little staff take a quick break amidst preparations for the opening of the chain’s flagship store at Marina Bay. Dubbed XLJL because of its size, the 40,000-sq-ft outlet cost more than $4 million to set up and will sell beds, a first for the department store known for its bargain buys. It will take the position of Singapore’s biggest JL store when the one at the Specialists’ Centre closes in mid-July. [Text and photograph by Alphonsus Chern]

Navy Open House 2007

NEW KID ON THE BLOCK: At the Navy Open House 2007 held at Changi Naval Base, one of the most popular attractions was a tour of the Republic of Singapore Navy’s stealth frigates, the RSS Formidable and RSS Intrepid. Singapore’s first locally-built frigate constructed by ST Marine, The RSS Intrepid, together with her sister ships, will be equipped with enhanced anti-air, anti-surface and anti-submarine capabilities, and are slated to replace the navy’s ageing missile gunboats. [Text and photograph by Alphonsus Chern]

Power Tools

SEXY SIX: For the first time in Singapore, exclusive automobiles such as the Aston Martin DB9, Ferrari 599 Fiorano, Ford GT and the Pagani Zonda were displayed together at the Millenia walk for SPH Magazine’s TORQUE organised “Torque Supercars Showcase 2007″.

STANDALONE: In its own corner, the McLaren F1 which once held claim to being the fastest street-legal production car in the world, drew a non-stop flock of enthusiasts. [Text and photograph by Alphonsus Chern]

UNSW pulls out of Singapore

DASHED HOPES: In March 2007, the entry of the University of New South Wales (UNSW) in March 2007 promised to bolster Singapore’s quest to become an education hub in the region, but with only 148 students enrolled in its first semester, the university decided to pull out less than three months later. When reporters visited, the campus grounds were quiet, save for a few gardeners such as Shanker s/o Porumale.

IN THE DARK: On 23 May 2007, UNSW announced plans to close its Singapore campus, but did not inform campus contract workers until a few days later.

Tan Kwee Kin (R), 50, who sold Chinese cuisine with her sister, Kim Hong, found out only when reporters asked them about their future plans. The school gardener (L), also heard about the news for the first time. [Text and photographs by Alphonsus Chern]

Startup successes

VETERANS SPEAK: The first Business Insights Entrepreneurship Seminar, organised by The Straits Times and OCBC Bank, drew some 1,100 bosses from small and medium-sized enterprises. From left: Forum moderator and The Straits Times money desk editor Ignatius Low, OCBC Bank’s vice-president of enterprise banking, Thomas Low, Catherine Lee of BreadTalk, Jimmy Fong of EpiCentre@Orchard and Steven Tan, principal consultant at kaya toast chain’s Wang Jiao Group shared their battle stories with the crowd.
[Text and photograph by Alphonsus Chern]

Eating in the library

OLDE WORLDE CHARM: Food Republic’s third branch in the lobby of the Suntec City Convention Centre is clothed in 19th Century European library garb, unlike its other Asian-styled outlets. Complete with genuine antique books, chandeliers, and carved wooden furniture, the concept cost the Breadtalk Group - Food Republic’s owner - some $3 million to realise. [Text and photograph by Alphonsus Chern]

Film school exposed

SNAP SHOT: Time is running out as film lecturer Andrew Millians (third from left) impatiently watches his students pose for a studio shoot in Ngee Ann Polytechnic’s Sound Stage. His next class is due to arrive in minutes, and Millians is all too eager to shoo the news photographer - who happens to be his former student - out the door. [Text and photograph by Alphonsus Chern, camera by May Lin Le Goff]

Singaporean national serviceman killed

A FATHER’S GRIEF: Singaporean national serviceman Corporal Isz Sazli Bin Sapari, 19, was killed in a training exercise when a Taiwanese jet fighter crashed into a building he was in. At the military funeral, his father clutches the Singapore flag while his sister clings to him for support.

Three men died in the worst peacetime accident to befall the Singapore Armed Forces since a naval collision killed four servicewomen in 2003. [Text and photograph by Alphonsus Chern]

First byline

  THREE ON THREE: Cameras are rushed into action as the trio who doused a fire in their neighbour’s flat display their awards. The two photojournalists on the left are experienced men from the Chinese newspapers, followed