EL Report

26 March 2008

To: Tom Thomas
Tour Group Leader
Tour Group

From: Leung Wai Hong
Sec 3G Student
Victoria School

The Victoria Concert Hall in Singapore

The Victoria Theatre and Concert Hall is a complex of two buildings and a clock tower joined together by a common corridor and located in the civic district of Singapore. The Victoria Theatre and Concert Hall was gazetted as a national monument on 14 February 1992.

Victoria Theatre and Concert Hall has a long history. The complex started off with the building of a town hall in 1862. Built during an era of Victorian Revivalism was occurring in Britain, its design reflected this architectural influence with Italianate windows and rusticated columns, and was the first building to reflect this style in Singapore's buildings.

In the lead up to World War II, the memorial hall was used as a hospital for victims of bombing raids by the Japanese forces during the Battle of Singapore before their successful occupation of the colony. During the occupation, the buildings themselves escaped major physical damage, although the colonnade was destroyed, and Raffles's statue moved to the National Museum. At the end of the war, the statue was returned to its original site in 1946. The hall also served as the venue for Japanese war crime trials.

Victoria Theatre and Concert Hall in the present years was considered the venue with the best acoustics in the city, and has been the main performance venue for the Singapore Symphony Orchestra (SSO) until the completion of the Esplanade - Theatres on the Bay in 2002 whereby the orchestra moved its home base to take advantage of superior acoustics and facilities brought about by technological and architectural advances over the years.

All these events that happened during the past contribute to the value of Victoria Theatre and Concert Hall. It is certainly a very rare experience to visit there. On top of just sight seeing, you can pay just a mere few dollars to catch an art performance by our locals, examples are band performances. It is indeed a pleasure to sit in the comfort of the Victoria Theatre listening to fine music.

Not only is this enjoyable but knowledgeable, you are exposed to the art and history of Singapore. I am sure this exposure is definitely positive for the students who are curious about Singapore. My personal experience with this excellent place of leisure is deeply etched in my mind. I would like to take this opportunity to share this joyous experience with you.

Wai hong
Leung Wai Hong

Commonwealth essay

Commonwealth Essay

4. “These are the things which make me who I am”

In the wee hours …

I dragged both of my weighty legs sluggishly on the ground, with my bulky bag on my hunching back; my eyelids were on the brink of collapsing. I rubbed my lethargic eyes as I strolled reluctantly to the bus-stop.

Dressed in a clean and neat white coloured uniform with my school badge pinned on it, I was an “ambassador” of my prestigious school. With that in mind, I kept my shirts tucked in, looking presentable.

“Eeeek!” A double decked bus screeched its brake, coming to a halt at the bus-stop. On my peripherals, the traffic light was turning from a green blinking man to a red man.

I sprinted across the road to the bus, waving frantically, hoping it would wait for me.

Gasping for breath, I boarded the bus and tapped my EZ-link card on the machine. The door shut closed. The bus captain stared at me coldly. Without saying anything, he continued to drive again.

The bus was extremely crowded. I could hardly move. There were mostly students in clean and neat uniform. After a quick scan of the bus, I resigned to fate that there was no seat for me and my heavy bag.

Slowly, the bus stopped at the next bus stop. A frail and elderly woman was making her way up the bus. She approached a student with long, stylish hair and an earring on his left ear on the green seat. He sat with his legs open widely acting ignorant.

“Can you please let me have the seat?” She pleaded sincerely.

“No,” the student replied irritatingly and rolled his eyes disrespectfully.

He turned his head away rudely and feign oblivious to the old lady who seemed to be struggling to support herself with her thin and bony legs.

“I really need it please,” the old lady continued with hope.

“There are so many seats in this bus, why can’t you ask another person!” The student barked at her unmannerly, with his bloodshot eyes frustrated.

Tens of people were engrossed with them. But none did anything, totally nothing. It was totally unjustifiable for the student to do such a thing. Where was my moral courage? I searched deep in to my conscience, feeling the guilt overwhelming me.

“There is nothing I can do,” I whispered inaudibly to myself.

Deep down I knew it was a lie, but I felt great comfort in it. Looking at the pale face of the old lady supporting herself on the shaky bus. The lady let out a weak and helpless sigh that slowly melted away my dignity. The shame of letting an old lady get oppressed by a irrational person irked me.

I hunted awfully for the courage deep within me. Who am I? I affirmed my identity. I could not stand still following others who are afraid. I must believe in myself.

I stood confidently in front of the boy, looking into his eyes with a sense of justice building up in me.

“I think what you did was wrong,” I told him frankly.

“Who you are to lecture me?” He pointed at me ungraciously.

There was no way I could speak with this uncivilized and unreasonable person.

He spat a string of abusive words at me.

“Thud!” The bus came to a pause and the doors went open.

“I might have to ask you to leave,” The bus captain approached him with a look of detest.

The student got off the seat reluctantly and knocked the people in his sight away with his shoulders harshly. He got down the bus and started doing obscene actions. He did not feel the least ashamed of himself. Everyone on the bus was petrified and shocked. No one muttered a single word.

“You did great,” the old lady looked broke the silence with a pleased look.

“Thank you,” I grinned proudly, the joy in me was uncontrollable.

I was contented with what I did. This was something many people could do but many did not do.

This is the pride of being who I am. It provides me a sense of identity that i uphold and respect. I do the things i feel right no matter what the costs and limits. I live with this pride guiding me in my everyday life.