Explosions, Fires on Singapore-flagged Cargo Ship in Indian Ocean
The Singapore-flagged WAN HAI 503 met with an accident about 90 miles off the coast of the southern Indian state of Kerala, said Shekhar Kuriakose, secretary of the state's disaster management authority.
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News24
2 days ago
- News24
Coetzé revels in medal heroics at World Aquatic champs: ‘Something I always dreamed of'
Pieter Coetze in action in Singapore. World Aquatics Be among those who shape the future with knowledge. Uncover exclusive stories that captivate your mind and heart with our FREE 14-day subscription trial. Dive into a world of inspiration, learning, and empowerment. You can only trial once.
Yahoo
2 days ago
- Yahoo
Lu Jia Fish Soup: All-star Yishun stall serving one of the best fish soups in SG
A month ago, I would've asserted that fish soup just isn't my thing. Cardinal sin, I know; this quintessential accessory of the Office Worker Starter Pack has just never cracked the ranks of my list. Little did I know I'd find myself at the tail end of a long, long queue for Lu Jia Fish Soup for a dish I'd have once dismissed as 'too simple' in a heartbeat — and itching to do it again. Wow, I guess everyone had the same idea for lunch. That was my first thought when I pulled up at A'Posh BizHub's Soon Lee Eating House. And it's easy to understand the allure. A quick search of the stall's name turns up — and I'm not exaggerating — creamy fish soup served in bowls so huge they look like boats, packed with thick, golden-brown slabs of fried fish. I was a moth to a flame, and this industrial kopitiam in Yishun was holding the matches. Anyway, here's a clearer picture of the stall I snapped when I reached the front after an arduous 40-minute wait. You're going to want to remember it, I promise. What I tried at Lu Jia Fish Soup I went all out on my first bowl, opting for the Mixed Fish Soup (S$6.50) with milk, a side of Yam Rice (S$1.50) and a full bowl of Fried Egg Floss (S$1.50) — because I can never get enough of these flaky goodies when I do eat fish soup. I'm usually hyper-aware of how noisy I get in public, but one swig of that soup momentarily erased my concept of etiquette because I must've let out the most obnoxious 'mmm!' known to man. Velvety and full-bodied, the broth was everything I could want in fish soup. It struck that sweet spot between creamy and savoury, with a distinct hit of shao xing wine that would usually throw me off. Here, it added a mellow richness that tied the flavours together without veering into funky territory. This is what fish soup should aspire to be. Within, 3 hefty hunks of fried fish came lightly battered and golden, still a little crisp around the edges despite their steamy soak. I love fried fish, so this effortlessly earned my seal of approval. But what took me by utter surprise was the sliced fish. Soft and silky smooth, these pearly whites were dealt in a portion abundant enough to make me question why I ever wrote off this healthier counterpart to begin with. And then Lu Jia Fish Soup's house-made chilli threw me a curveball. I prefer my ingredients unadorned, but this addictive zesty, lime-perfumed concoction had me gleefully dunking slice after slice. Addictive doesn't begin to cover it. We tried Singapore's best-rated fish soup Now, for the supporting cast. The Yam Rice was studded with soft taro chunks and flecked with hae bee, giving it an umami-laced heartiness. It's admittedly not the most conventional complement for fish soup, but if this is what it brings, you can sign me up for a bowl any day. And of course, you'd never catch me complaining about Fried Egg Floss. These fine flakes were sweet and eggy — the perfect sponge to soak up that glorious broth. Need I say more? Though one bowl felt a little too soon to call it, I was already sold on Lu Jia Fish Soup's powerhouse calibre. Still, I had to give their clear soup a try for good measure, and so came my order of Fried Fish Soup (S$5.50) with Ee Mee (S$0.80) sans the evaporated milk. Well, consider the deal sealed. Bright and naturally sweet, this broth packed serious savoury depth without the telltale MSG aftermath as I didn't once feel the need to reach for water. Its magic also lay in the ee mee, which infused the soup with a moreish eggy richness and body. This really did not let me down. The springy noodles were a win, too, bringing a welcome bounce and flavour to the bowl. Paired with those same hefty slabs of winning fried fish, I honestly don't think I could've asked for more. The last item on my roster was a bowl of Popcorn Fish (S$2), which I simply couldn't leave without. I mean, where else in Singapore can you find this creative add-on? (Seriously, I'm collecting names.) Think popcorn chicken, but make it fish. These bite-sized nuggets were perfectly battered, well-seasoned and delivered an immaculate crunch. Two words: obscenely snackable. Whoever thought of this is a genius, and I'm glad they exist. Final thoughts It's difficult to botch a simple dish like fish soup, but I'd say it's even harder to make a mean bowl that'll knock many socks off. Lu Jia Fish Soup does exactly that and makes it seem effortless. I've awarded 5 stars before, but I've never felt more certain than I do now giving it to this humble stall. Tasty soup, fresh fish, huge portions… there's really nothing to gripe about, and so much to love. This stubborn sceptic has officially found her favourite fish soup in Singapore, and doesn't want to think about going anywhere else. Expected damage: S$5.50 – S$9 per pax 14 fish soup spots in Singapore to help weather the rainy season [Nov 2024 update] The post Lu Jia Fish Soup: All-star Yishun stall serving one of the best fish soups in SG appeared first on
Boston Globe
3 days ago
- Boston Globe
A bid to undo a colonial-era wrong touches a people's old wounds
Their efforts to repatriate ancestral remains, which have been in a British museum for more than a century, have been 'a trigger for the Nagas,' said Dolly Kikon, a professor of anthropology at the University of California, Santa Cruz, who is Naga herself. Naga society has changed immensely since those remains were taken. To contemplate their return means reckoning with those changes, and with how many of them are the result of external forces and violence. Advertisement Members of Naga communities in northeastern India have worked for five years with the Pitt Rivers Museum at the University of Oxford, whose collection of Naga cultural objects is the largest in the world, toward the goal of repatriating the hundreds of human remains in the collection. In June, a delegation of 20 Naga leaders, elders and scholars visited the museum and saw those objects for the first time. 'I stood there beside them quietly, feeling a deep sorrow in my heart,' Kikon said. The human remains in the collection, which number more than 200, include a warrior's cranium, a woman's skull decorated with buffalo horns and a piece of skin with hair attached. Naga tradition holds that human remains are sacred, carrying life and spirit. 'They are restless, the spirits will not be in peace unless they find a resting place,' said K. Ongshong, a Naga elder from Longleng village in the Indian state of Nagaland. Advertisement Most of the remains were donated to the museum by J.P. Mills and J.H. Hutton, British colonial administrators in northeastern India. While some were given to the men as gifts, most were collected against Naga people's will during military expeditions into villages, according to experts. For years, the skulls were included in a Pitt Rivers exhibit titled 'Treatment of Dead Enemies,' under the label 'headhunting trophies' alongside remains from other Indigenous groups, including the well-known shrunken heads of the Shuar people of South America. That changed in 2020, when 120 of the human remains in the collection, including the shrunken heads and Naga remains, were removed from display and put in storage. In their place stand blue information boards explaining the contentious collection and the museum's decolonization efforts. 'These displays didn't match with our values any more,' Laura Van Broekhoven, the museum's director, said in an interview. Headhunting was practiced among Naga warriors, who collected the heads of enemies they killed in raids or war. (Despite the labeling by the museum, experts said it was unlikely that all the Naga skulls were enemy trophy heads; some may have been taken from burial sites.) Because of the gruesome nature of the practice, and the way it helped to feed a persistent stereotype of the Nagas as violent and warlike, some Nagas are hesitant to bring the remains home. The repatriation discussions are also touching on deeper wounds for many of the Naga people, who number about 2.5 million. Advertisement That is clear from the difficulties raised, in this case, by one of the first questions in any repatriation process: Where should these objects go? Today, most Nagas live in the Indian state of Nagaland. But Naga communities can also be found in the states of Assam, Manipur and Arunachal Pradesh -- and in Myanmar. Before the British colonists drew their borders, the Nagas lived in a contiguous region loosely known as the Naga hills, now divided among those modern states. In 1928, Nagas began making formal demands for independence, not wanting to be a part of the British Raj or India. 'The Nagas shared no cultural similarities with India,' said Akum Longchari, a peace and conflict activist based in Nagaland. But when the British left the subcontinent in 1947, Nagas were brought under the control of the Indian state. Decades of political struggle and armed resistance followed, broadly known as the Naga National Movement. India saw it as a threat and suppressed the insurgency. The fighting killed thousands over the years. India implemented laws that gave sweeping powers to its security forces and protected them from prosecution, which experts say led to human rights violations. Although a ceasefire was reached in 1997, the state of Nagaland remains one of India's most militarized regions. For some Nagas, the truce feels precarious, and much suspicion and mistrust remain. Longchari said Naga society had been in a constant state of struggle since British colonization in the 1800s. 'Nagas have had no time for reflection,' he said, adding, 'One colonizer left and another took their place right after.' Another factor complicating the repatriation process is the enduring legacy of American Christian missionaries, who first arrived in the Naga hills in the 19th century. Advertisement If the remains are laid to rest, some Nagas wonder, what funeral rituals should they be accorded -- the rites of Christianity, since that is the religion most Nagas now follow, or traditional, animistic ones? Knowledge of those older rites may now be limited, since the missionaries changed the region's culture along with its religion, said Nepuni Piku, a human-rights activist. 'They did not just come with their Bible, but with their cultural baggage,' Piku said. Naga culture was painted as backward and outdated, Christianity as modern, which led to the abandonment of many Naga cultural practices and rituals, he said. Naga activists and scholars, along with the Forum for Naga Reconciliation in Nagaland, a civil society organization, have been trying to build consensus on these questions and more. Once there is agreement on a plan for repatriating the remains and artifacts, a claim will be made to the university. If the university accepts the claim, then the governments of both countries will get involved. Last fall, a two-day conference on the proposed repatriation brought together community elders, scholars and students in a nondenominational Christian church in Dimapur, the largest city in Nagaland. A college student at the conference asked what relevance the traditions of the past had for the urban world he inhabits. Loina Shohe, a sociologist, replied that Naga culture, like any other, is not static but evolves with time. 'Our ancestors were self-sustained, not primitive or savage,' she said. The Nagas' history has caused them immense intergenerational trauma, Dr. P. Ngully, a psychiatrist in Nagaland, said in an interview last year. He was part of the delegation that visited Oxford, one month before he died in July. Such trauma, which he called an 'invisible epidemic,' can exacerbate alcohol and substance abuse, he said, problems that Naga society is trying to address among its youth. Advertisement Some younger Nagas are looking for ways to reconcile with that traumatic history. Throngkiuba Yimchungru, 35, conducts art workshops that he calls DeConstructing Morung. Long ago, morungs were youth dormitories where Nagas came together to socialize -- one of the traditions lost to Christianity and time. Yimchungru said he wanted to adapt the concept to the present. 'Morungs can be anywhere -- in a school, office, within a big city,' he said. 'They needn't be within an architectural structure.' Nagas' discussions with the Pitt Rivers Museum have also been an attempt to reconcile with the past. But the return of the remains in the museum's collection could conceivably take decades. The fastest repatriation the museum has ever carried out took a year and a half, while the longest -- the repatriation of Tasmanian human remains -- took 45. The Naga delegation to the museum opened its June visit with an Indigenous chant that alludes to the original parting of the Naga ancestors from their creator. The chant concludes with the hope that the ancestor will be reunited with the creator and help to heal the wounds of the past. 'I don't know if the process of repatriation will do the healing for us,' Kikon said. 'But I do know there's a lot of trauma and we need the healing.' This article originally appeared in
