Welcome to the Amazon!

This poem was written and recited by 5 Arts 4 who won the Senior Choral Speaking Competition in 1987. They were conducted by Tomasina Oh, who has since gone on to earn a PhD in Linguistics from Cambridge University. The girls did superb rendition complete with sound effects, humour and all-round entertainment! Even as a losing finalist, I happily applauded 5A4's success that year as they clearly deserved to win the trophy.

(Sound Effects: Jungle Sounds)

The fleet of 21 canoes travelled down
The muddy waters of the Madeira
A prominent tributary of the immortal Amazon
42 unique individuals (that's us!)
All set to conquer the force that looms over
The mysterious Amazon

What lies beyond, we know not
As the curtain of mystery slowly unveils...
To reveal its awesome splendour
We behold with wonder the gigantic trees
Majestically guarding their territory
Snake-like creepers trailing from their boughs
Chattering monkeys protesting the intrusion
As our canoes disturbed the calm waters
"Fish!" Forty-two eager hands reached out...
"Piranha!" And our hands shot back at lightning speed

"I'm getting hungry"
"I'm frightened"
"I'm hungry"
"Besides, it's getting dark"
"I'm VERY hungry"
And so, we decided to camp
But that was easier said than done
The tents seemed to have minds of their own
They just refused to stay up!
Our dismal attempts at starting a fire
Ended up with
Frayed tempers
Red faces
Burnt hair...AND...
No fire.

UNGA, UNGA, UNGA
What's that? It can't be! But it is!

We've been beseiged by a horde of savages!
Immediately we turned to our martial arts expert
(She got her yellow belt just last week)
Unfortunately martial art does not really help
When you're surrounded by savages with long spears.

The battle has ended
(There wasn't even a struggle)
Soon forty-two wriggling forms
Were slung over the backs of savages
Curiosity got the better of us
We strained our necks to look at our captors
(Hoping they'd be as handsome as Tarzan)
But we didn't like what we saw,
Flat-flaring nostrils, Evil-looking eyes
Gggrrr.....grinding teeth
Waiting impatiently for our juicy, tender, human flesh

Then they stopped
And we were thrown into a dark and creepy pit
What would happen next?
Were we doomed to die at such a tender age?
Or was rescue at hand?

"Girls! Are you listening?"
The familiar voice of our Geography teacher
Brought us back to reality
"Do you have any idea how important this chapter
on the Amazon Jungle is for the exam?"
"Of course we do! But we think we'd be able
to handle this chapter pretty well;
...Don't you?

The Complexities of the English Language

This poem was written by Lim Poh Lian and recited by 5 Science 5 who emerged as Senior Choral Speaking Champions in 1986. It's another fine example of the superior grasp and love of the English Language inculcated by our amazing teachers at BBGS! A point to note though, this poem is much easier to appreciate in its oral rather than written form.

The English Language is a polyglot of French, German, Italian and what not,
But as far as we are concerned, English can go pot!
The subtleties of the English Language:
Awful pronunciation,
Tricky grammar,
Unfathomable ambiguities,
Misleading spellings!

Choose your words carefully when describing your hostess:
You can call her a kitten,
But not a cat.
Call her a mouse,
But not a rat.
Call her a chicken,
But not a hen,
Or, you will never be her caller again.
If she burns you up, say she sets you on fire,
And you'll be most welcome, you tricky little liar.

In most languages, pronunciation follows predictable rules,
But not in English!
Because of its peculiarities and idiosyncrasies, its easy to sound gibberish!
For example, words ending in INE are pronounced in several ways;
Long (i) as in ALKALINE, and short (i) as in HEROINE
What would happen if we say ALKALINE and HEROINE?

Likewise, CH can be "tsh" as in ARCHBISHOP
But "k" as in ARCHANGEL and ARCHAEOLOGY
It would be chaotic if we say, chaotic!

Ah, English! What a language!
Confusing, perplexing, exasperating
It spins the head, tires the tongue, boggles the mind, juggles the brain!
Consider the difficulties of a foreigner learning English.
The Indians, with the characteristic roll of the tongue, say,
"The ragged rascal runs over the rugged rock"
The Chinese just can't pronounce the 'r'
"Fried rice" becomes 'flied lice'
For the Malays, they end words with the classic 'lah' and 'dah'
For instance, they always say 'yeslah', 'nolah'

Certain words have double, triple, quadruple, multiple meanings,
But STOP,
Although we lament its irregularities and complexities,
English can also be clear, concise and simple!
We give up,
The English Language is madly paradoxical, irrational and capricious,
But sometimes, while frantically trying to puzzle out the verbs, grammar,
Syntax, pronunciation and spelling,
We fall under its bewitching, magical, utterly inexplicable spell
Our hearts are warmed, minds moved, senses stirred, spirits awakened!
Its very complexities make it unique.
Its very complexities make it beautiful.

In conclusion, we have this to say,
Dilemma that we are in, enigma as it seems,
This we confess, it's not as bad as we profess,
It can be very nonsensical, but the nonsensical can be musical.
The nonsnsical and musical make it comical,
Altogether, the nonsensical, musical, comical makes us positively HYSTERICAL!

Advice to Parents

Here's another Choral Speaking poem that holds a special place in my heart. It was performed by 2C1, who emerged as Junior Champions in 1986, and I had the pleasure of teaching and conducting a class for the very first time! Thanks to Mrs Abraham for giving me the opportunity and encouragement.


The most important thing we've learned,
As far as children are concerned,
Is never, never, NEVER let
Them near your television set -
Or better still, just don't install
The idiotic thing at all.

In almost every house we've been,
We've watched them gaping at the screen.
They loll and slop and lounge about,
And stare until their eye pop out.

They sit and stare and stare and sit,
Until they are hypnotised by it,
Until they're absolutely drunk
With all that shocking ghastly junk.

Oh yes, we know it keeps them still,
They don't climb out the window sill,
They never fight or kick or punch,
They leave you free to cook the lunch
And wash the dishes in the sink-
But, did you ever stop to think
To wonder, just exactly what
This does to your beloved tot?

IT ROTS THE SENSES IN THE HEAD!
IT KILLS IMAGINATION DEAD!
IT CLOGS AND CLUTTERS UP THE MIND!
IT MAKES A CHILD SO DULL AND BLIND
HE CAN NO LONGER UNDERSTAND
A FANTASY, A FAIRYLAND!
HIS BRAIN BECOMES AS SOFT AS CHEESE!
HIS POWERS OF THINKING RUST AND FREEZE!
HE CANNOT THINK - HE ONLY SEES!

"All right!" you cry. "All right!" you say,
"But if we take the set away,
What shall we do to entertain
Our darling children? Please explain!"

We'll answer this by asking you,
"What used the darling ones to do?
How used they to keep themselves contented
Before this monster was invented?"

Have you forgotten? Don't you know?
We'll say it very loud and slow!

THEY...USED...TO...READ! They'd READ and READ,
And READ and READ, and then proceed
To READ some more. Great Scott! Gadzooks!
One half of their lives was reading books!

The nursery shelves held books galore!
Books cluttered up the nursery floor!
And in the bedroom, by the bed,
More books were waiting to be read!

Such wondrous, fine, fantastic tales,
Of dragons, gypsies, queens and whales,
And treasure isles and distant shores
Where smugglers rowed with muffled oars,
And pirates wearing purple pants,
And sailing ships and elephants,
And cannibals crouching round the pot,
Stirring away at something hot.

Oh, books, what books they used to know
Those children living long ago!
So please, oh please, we beg, we pray,
Go throw your TV set away,
And in its place you can install
A lovely bookshelf on the wall.

And once they start - boy, oh boy!
You watch the slowly growing joy
That fills their hearts. They'll grow so keen,
They'll wonder what they'd ever seen,
In that ridiculous machine,
That nauseating, foul, unclean,
Repulsive television screen!

And later, each and every kid,
Will love you more for what you did.


This poem was published in the 1986 School Magazine.

World of Women Drivers

I'm having so much fun discovering original poems composed by our clever BBGSians for the annual Choral Speaking Competitions! Here's another gem by Five Science Three, who took home the shield for the Senior Category in 1984. This poem is taken from the 1984 School Magazine.


Five Science Three Explores the World of Women Drivers

Women drivers can be found everywhere!

Everywhere!!

Up the curb!

In the ditch!

Up the tree!

In the lake! Tsk...tsk...

According to men,
Women drivers are atrocious!
Not so!
Inconsiderate and incompetent!
Debatable!
But, according to women,
Lady motorists are cautious, civic-minded and skilled!
"I mean, it's not easy driving up a tree, you know!"

After a minor mishap,
You can hear the famous last words of an enraged husband:
"How can you do such a thing! It's impossible!"
"You're just jealous because you can't do it!"
Informs his wife coolly
The car, sorry to say, is a total wreck,
Its wheels move in a crab-like motion,
And the vehicle is transformed
From a stately sedan
To a sports convertible...without the roof.

Ad we approach the age of seventeen,
Most of us crave for a driving license.
Driving instructors cringe,
When they see GIRLS at the driving office,
They cling desperately to the handbrakes when the lesson is in progress
---just in case.
Our monitor's first driving lesson.
"Let me guess, she drove into the drain!"
"Don't be so mean. I only hit the traffic lights. That's all!!"

Our wisdom bringers in BBGS
Comprise of a skilled lot.
See Miss Yeap gliding gracefully into the school compound,
Screeching to an abrupt halt
Missing the palm tree by centimetres. Phew.
We have the ideal woman driver, right here in BBGS.
Our very own Mrs Cheong,
Who swerves right, left, back and front,
Barely missing Mrs Thanen's pride and joy
Every single morning.
Hear the laughter upstairs in 5 Sc 3,
And the screams in 5 Sc 2,
Whenever Mrs Choe Ling
Laboriously manoeuvres her faithful Ford through the school gate.
Monday mornings can be hazardous to one's health.
For instance,
"Mrs Choe Ling, look out for that, BANG, CRASH, CHOKE........tree."

Adventurous women on race tracks,
Have caused sensations in newspapers.
Adventurous women on roads,
Have also been a source of headlines.
"Lack of trees in the city....fault of women drivers!"
Accident rates increse...women drivers on the prowl!"
Typical remarks of chauvinistic men.
These ignorant ones ind it astounding
How women change a tiny Volkswagen
Into a power-charged sports car!
If we drive slow
They sit seething with discontent, muttering imprecations, tinged with annoyance.

Yet, think of how uneventful
The world would be without us
Lovely, innocent, wonderful,
Charming, witty, enchanting,
And last but not least....modest women drivers,
Who add a little spice to your lives.
Looking gorgeous in an expensive Porsche.
A delightful sight for sore eyes,
Driving with awareness,
Every molecule in their body filled with confidence
Eeeeeet......BANG!
Oh..oh...

Courtship through our very own eyes

If your idea of a typical BBGSian is that of a strait-laced Victorian schoolma'm, think again. Here's a delightful original poem presented by 5 Arts 3, who emerged as Choral Speaking Champions for the Senior section in 1983. This poem was taken from the 1983 School Magazine.


5A3's presentation of Courtship Through Our Very Own Eyes


Courtship has played an important role in mankind for many, many years
And if 5A3 has it her way
it will continue to do so for many, many more years to come
Courtship has all the ingredients of a potential bestseller,
It has adventure, intrigue,
Humour, freshness
and not forgetting the most important ingredient of all
ROMANCE.
Besides, what is a marriage without courtship?
Nothing, AB-SO-LUTE-LY nothing.

Courtship is the period for memories to be cherished,
The days of red roses,
And gaily, coloured gifts.
Of opening of car doors
and candlelight dinners
Of posh hotels and smart restaurants
.....or perhaps
A walk int he thunderstorm in his best suit
and her best shoes.
A French menu that sounds Greek, exorbitant bills
And of getting up late for work the next morning.

According to the Oxford dictionary,
Courtship is the period during which
A person tries to win the affection of another
In view of marriage,
But, according to 5A3,
Courtship is the period for his bank balance to sink drastically
And her wardrobe to increase dramatically,
In view of a longer engagement.

The concept
of tall, dark and handsome men and their fair, petite counterparts
Is still predominant,
Unfortunately, there's a little snag to this,
You see,
"We aren't fair", "He isn't tall enough"
But as they say
Beauty is in the eye of the Beholder
So there's hope for us yet.

On a more serious note, ladies and gentlemen,
Courtship is not just the time for fun and lavish attention
It is like a bed of roses
A bed of roses with many thorns
It is the period when not only the virtues
But the faults surface.
It is the perfect opportunity for jealousy to rear its ugly head
For discontentment to set in,
For frayed tempers
And for settling differences once and for all.

Courtship can bring happiness
or....tragedy
Let us take the case of modern day Romeo and Juliet
Happiness is when Juliet says
"Romeo, Romeo
Wherefore art thou?"
But tragedy when Romeo replies,
"I am here, you silly cow!"

Let us now deal with the before and after effects of courtship.
Before, she'll say
"Yes, dear
"Anything you say dear"
After, she'll say
"Do it yourself. I'm going back to mother's!"
Before, he'll say
"You look lovely tonight"
After,
"Amazing what a woman looks like without her warpaint"
Before, she'll say,
"Oh, Thank you for the lovely flowers but you really shouldn't"
After,
"You don't bring me flowers, anymore"
So much for happily-ever-after endings.

A slight twist to that famous Shakespeare phrase
More or less sums up the situation in general
It's just a matter of
To court or not to be court
To be courted or not to be courted
These are the questions
And 5A3's aswers are
To court and to be courted!


Note: I can't help thinking that these girls could have graduated to become scriptwriters for "Winter Sonata" and other Korean dramas...haha!

Chinatown

One thing I've realized about Choral Speaking at BBGS is that it wasn't always about Shakespeare, Keats or Tennyson. In fact, some of the best poems were often written by the girls themselves!

Here's a fine example by Form 3A, who were the Intermediate Choral Speaking Champions in 1984. Till today, I still remember how entertaining and engaging the poem was because we could all identify with the distinctly Malaysian scenes, characters and flavours contained therein.


CHINATOWN

As dawn breaks over the tenement houses
Life begins in the heart of Petaling Street
The carts rumble into the market square
And the cries of hawkers (Rumble Mumble Hustle Bustle)

Ka ma lun pheng koh, yau pheng yau leng, hoong toh-toh, Aunty, aunty, ai beh cai boh... Ham yee ah (2x) Sam Khow yat ma (3x) Mai yat cek soong yat cek, cin-cin, cai-cai, mai toh soong toh,
Mingled with those of early shoppers

The morning sun rses
The shops are ready for business
The big bully jaga with his beard neatly curled
Grins as a Mercedes pulls up, eek....booom
It disgorges an opulent lady
Making her weekly pilgrimage to the jewellery store.

The Chinese medicine halls display their strange products
Guaranteed to cure every ill.
The sinseh by the corner picks his teeth as he awaits his firs client
The joss stick seller is busy fashioning a paper limousine complete with number plates.
While two shops away in the eerie darkness,
A coffin lies waiting for the same customers.

"You ain't nothing but a hound dog"
Hot rock music blares from the cassette players
While metal smiths and cobbles, beat in time.
Girls in the latest fashion
Strut among the hawkers
Selling platform shoes and handbags

A shout is heard, "Hoi!"
A wiry youngster wheels among the cars
He disappears into the lane
Clutching a gold necklace
No one goes after him
No one dares, it's wiser not to be involved.

Lunch time in Madras Lane
For the adventurous gourmets they are
Monkey brains, served fresh from the skull
With a dash of pepper
Or, if you prefer less exotic fare
Try: turtle soup, fried lizard tongue, mouth watering eels.

The sun has set
The market is closed
And shops will be shut
But wait, more carts rumble in and kerosene lamps are lit
The pasar malam has begun
The hawkers advertise their goods in the road now devoid of traffic
There is food galore!
Char Siew Pau, Chin Toi Chai, See Ham Chow Fun, Loh Mai Kai, Hoong Tau Sah

Customers stream in from the nearby cinema
Jostling and pushing, oblivious of the pick pockets
At midnight the carnival is over
Silence and darkness descend once more
A naked light bulb swings in one of the windows
A dustbin clatter, "Meeoooww..." as the cats begin their nightly haunt
An old beggar huddles to sleep on the cold sidewalk
All is quiet and still.....until tomorrow.

We Had A Hippopotamus

Back in 1985, my class, 3C1, had won the Choral Speaking competition for two successive years and we were desperate to make it a hattrick. We valiantly combed all the poetry books in the library and came up with this gem!

The poem may appear simple, or even inane to the unenlightened mind, but don't be fooled. There are plenty of clever tongue twisters that make it a very challenging choral speaking poem. But the best thing is - WE WON!


We Had A Hippopotamus

We had a hippopotamus, we kept him in a shed.
And fed him upon vitamins, and vegetable bread.
We made him our companion,
On many cheery walks,
And had his portrait done, by a celebrity in chalks.

His charming eccentricities, were known on every side,
The creature's popularity was wonderfully wide,
He frolicked with the Rector in a dozen friendly tussles,
Who could not but remark upon his hippopotamuscles,
If he should be afflicted by deppression or the dumps,
By hippopotameasles or the hippopotamumps,
We never knew a particle of peace,
Till it was plain,
He was hippopotamasticating properly again.

We had a hippopotamus, we loved him as a friend
But beautiful relationships are bound to have an end.
Time takes, alas, our joys from us
And robs us of our blisses.
Our hippopotamus turned out to be a hippopotamissus!

Our housekeeper regarded him with jaundice in her eye,
She did not want a colony of hippopotami,
She borrowed a machine gun,
From her soldier nephew, Percy,
And showed our hippopotamus, no hippopotamercy.

Our house now lacks the glamour, that the charming creature gave,
The garage where we kept him is as silent as a grave.
No longer he displays among the motor tyres and spanners,
His hippopotamastery of hippopotamanners.

No longer now he gambols, in the orchards in the spring.
No longer do we lead him through the village on a string.
No longer in the mornings does the neighbourhood rejoice
To his hippopotamusically-modulated voice.

We had a hippopotamus, but nothing upon earth
Is constant in its happiness, or lasting in its mirth,
No joy that life can give us,
Can be strong enough to smother
Our sorrow for that might have been a hippopotamother.

3C1, the Intermediate Choral Speaking Champions of 1985

Tips for Choral Speaking

It's a lazy Sunday morning and I'm archiving emails when I chance upon this note from Katrina Sprott. She first wrote to me when this blog first started, asking for some tips on choral speaking. I was happy to share my limited experience with her, and hopefully spread some good practices across the globe.

Katrina writes:

Dear Joanna,

Hello, I was reading your blog on the internet and was interested in your work teaching Choral Speaking. I am a new teacher working in Hong Kong and have been asked to teach a choral speaking/chanting class this year. I had never heard of it before and don't really know what they expect. You seem to have a vast knowledge and your students seem to like the stuff you do so I was wondering if you had any suggestions for a novice teacher. My class will be around 6 to 8 years old, and English is their second language. Most of the things I found on the internet are religious or too difficult for my students level. Plus most were boring. I need something that will motivate the kids and I want them to enjoy it. Any suggestions would be greatly appreciated.


Joanna replies:

Thanks for your interest, Katrina. Most of the Choral Speaking I've done is for 13 - 17 year olds. But all is not lost...there are some poems that may be suitable for younger kids. "Matilda" and "Goldilocks" in the link below are good examples. Roald Dahl's work is an excellent resource. Or just write one that would appeal to HK kids!

http://www.btinternet.com/~a.ghinn/funnypoems.htm

Some tips:
1) Get every child to recite one line. You can then divide their voices into light (sweet & airy), medium or dark (strong & authoritative). Then get the lights to stand in front, medium in the middle, and dark at the back (on elevated platforms)

2) You can then use the different voices to express different emotions in the poem. Lights for "romantic sighs", Dark for "Charge of the Light Brigade" - you get the picture :-)

3) Focus on pronunciation, expression (facial) and volume (loud/soft) to bring out the aesthetics of the poem

4) Last but not least, HAVE FUN!

It is such a joy to watch individual kids come together as a team and speak as one voice. All the best!

===================================

Mrs Thanenthiran, the senior English teacher at BBGS for many years, explains Choral Speaking in an interview with The Star on 10 April 1984:

" Choral Speaking is reciting poetry composed by the students or adapted from the work of a poet. It enables the students to learn to read and interpret poems. It gives them an opportunity for creative imagination. It creates a love for poetry.

On the whole, it helps improve their English, especially the oral part. And for students of English Literature, it helps them in the poetry section. Choral speaking is a good introduction to English literature.

If the poem is composed by the students, the whole class will pitch in to suggest titles and polish up the lines. It takes at least three weeks for them to produce the final copy which has to be approved by their teacher. When it is all over, the girls will be ready for the competition held at the end of the first school term.

The contest is divided into the junior section (Forms One and Two), intermediate (Forms Three and Four) and senior (Forms Five and Six). Only one class from each Form will take part in the finals. There will be three external judges who will give marks for timing, special effects, pose and demeanour, and pronunciation."

===================================

Note from author of Back to BBGS blog, Joanna Yeoh (August 2011)

Given the tremendous interest among English teachers for Choral Speaking scripts, I have updated the following link with some prize-winning poems from BBGS. We are happy to share our treasure trove with you, and ask that in return, you credit this blog when citing sources. Thank you.

http://back2bbgs.blogspot.com/search/label/Choral%20Speaking

Sounds of London Town

This poem has been requested by an ex-BBGSian and I'm happy to oblige. It brings back fond memories because I first taught this poem to Mrs. Abraham's English class, 2S, who won the Junior Choral Speaking Competition in 1989.

The London day begins with
The first trains,
The first trams,
The first workers, traders and newspapers,
The first birds in Trafalgar Square,
The last lights, the last lurkers;
The sleepy heads get out of beds,
And off to work they go;

Then, the rustle hustle bustle starts,
Racing taxis, noisy carts,
Rustle hustle bustle, rustle hustle bustle,
Rushing here, rushing there
Running here and everywhere
People shopping, people looking
People eating, drinking, laughing,

And we go by Underground.
Down we go, down the escalator, down,
Down, down, down.
Follow the red light, follow the blue light,
This way! No, I'm sure it's that way.
We thunder through the hollow tunnel of the tube.

Pitter patter, pitter patter, pitter patter,
Clipper clapper, clipper clapper, clipper clapper,
Hello-o, hello-o
Keep right, keep left
Pass along the platform
More room at the front of the train.
Ch-ch-ch, ch-ch-ch, ch-ch-ch, ch-ch-ch, PSHSH...CHUNG!
Knightsbridge, Hyde Park Corner, Picadilly Circus,
We're on our way, we'll soon be there.
We're on our way, we'll soon be there.
We're on our way, we'll soon be there. PSHSHSH

Apples, apples, lovely ripe apples.
Paper, paper, read all about it.
Choc-ices, choc-ices, lovely choc-ices.
Honk, honk! Peep, peep!

Let's have a cup of tea, cup of tea, cup of tea.
Let's have a cup of tea, cup of tea, cup of tea.
Let's have a cup of tea, cup of tea, cup of tea.
The mingled chitter chatter over plates of bread and butter
And the clink of cups of tea.

Gossip, scandal, news and views,
Dresses, cousins, friends and shoes,
And my latest operation.
Waiter! Yessir. Waiter! Coming.
Waiter! Yessir. Waiter! Coming.
Waiter! Waiter! Waiter! COMING.
Clink! Tinkle! Rattle! Chucke!

Travel in the morning or the early afternoon.
Please avoid the rush hour, if you can.
Rush hour...rush hour!
From shops and desks the people come,
Pressing, pushing on and on.
We've got to get home. We've got to get home!

Away from London's crowded streets,
Back to suburbs, country seats.
We must get away!
On the train, slam the door,
On the racks, on the floor,
Crammed like fish in an oily tin
Can't read the paper because of the din
Pushing and swaying, swaying and pushing,
Away, away, away,
Away from the smoky city they go.

=============================================================

Karenyin said...

Dear Joanna,

This poem brings back a lot of memories for me as we won the choral speaking competition in 1974 with this poem. I think it was 1974 or 1976. We all loved the poem and from memory it was taught to us by Mrs Wee, an Australian born English teacher. Miss Moey was our form teacher at the time.

We all had different voices to match the words and one of the girls Catherine Mcleod who was English had one of the most perfect English accents to match.

My name is Dr Karen Yin and I was a BBGS girl from 1966 to 1976. Standard 2 to Form 5 till I migrated to Perth. I used to go to Sunday School with Miss Cooke as she lived next door to my aunt in Ampang.

I would love to catch up with my year of 1976 as I think they all have spread their wings and flown to various parts of the earth...Kon Sui Phin was the headgirl in my year who must have been the only head girl to have been in Form 5.

I am back in Singapore now and would dearly love to network with any old BBGS girls form that era.

BTW, you are doing a fantastic job.

Cheers.

Karen Yin

The Complexities of Choral Speaking

It's been a month since I started polling our favourite BBGS traditions, and it appears that Choral Speaking is the runaway favourite! So, here's another dose of nostalgia for all you BBGSians out there ;-)

Before choral-speaking gained nation-wide popularity among secondary schools in Malaysia, it was the pride (and pain!) of all BBGSians. The art of reciting poetry as a group, focussed primarily on pronunciation, expression and volume. Where appropriate, we would introduce special effects to highlight a particular mood within the poem.

I recently found a poem, written by Mak Mei Ling from Form 5 Science 3, in the 1983 School Magazine. The poem so accurately and humourously describes the annual pilgrimage of BBGSians to the altar of the Inter-Class Choral Speaking Competition.

The Complexities of Choral Speaking

Oh help... That particular time of the year

Has inevitably arrived -

It's Choral Speaking time again.

Choral Speaking?

A certain aura of panic surrounds

The usually stable BBGSians

The very word

Sends chills down our spines.

Librarians in the city

Are naturally mystified

Over the sudden popularity

Of their poetry books

As we comb and rummage

Through them in our zeal.

After days and days

Of searching, reading and rejecting poems,

We come to the conclusion

That no one has yet to produce

A poem striking enough

To suit our sophisticated tastes.

Having no alternatives,

We turn to our class' budding writers

And beg, cajole and even threaten them

To produce a top notch poem

In exactly 24 hours,

No matter how empty or void

They claim their heads to be.

Having secured our Tennysons and Kiplings,

We now struggle to choose a prize winning topic.

"What shall we speak on this year?"

"Nothing"

"I know, our PTA toilet project!"

"Uh-ah" "World War Three?"

"How about banning Choral Speaking forever!"

Finally,

After many hours of brain wracking

And hair tearing sessions,

Our self-proclaimed geniuses

Complete their royal assignment

But, the heartache is far from over

As up crops a totally new problem -

How exactly do we pronounce

All these lip twising

Tongue rolling

And mind boggling words?

Everyone has their own version

Of how the poem should be recited

"...this way...."

"...no, that way..."

Insults are thrown

Egos are bashed

Reducing our poor Choral Speakers

Into nothing but "Quarrel" speakers

Amidst the catastrophe

A star is born - our conductor.

See her face twist

See her hands fly here and there.

She calms our frayed nerves

And reassures us that

We do not sound as terrible

As everyone says we do.

Yet, it is she who tortures us

With countless hours of practice

Turning our lovely, harmonious voices

Into miserable, pathetic croaks.

After what seems to be

An eternity of voice projection,

We are forced to go on stage.

Behind the shaking knees,

Cold fingers and chattering teeth,

One comforting thought

Remains in our hearts -

For we know that

If we never pull through to the semifinals,

The 38 of us overworked, underpraised

Angels in Bata shoes

Need never, ever go through

The complexities of Choral Speaking again.

Cheeky Choral Speaking Champions

A unique experience for every BBGSian is Choral Speaking, the art of reciting poetry as a group. Some of us love it (because we win competitions :-), but others think it's torture (my sister has removed all traces of this painful ritual from her memory).

I was introduced to the world of choral speaking by the wonderfully expressive Mrs Aziz, who made me the "star" of the 1983 competition with a cheeky little poem entitled...

The Pleasures of Being Fat

Most of us weary mortals know
What a nuisance, a trial, a torture
In fact, what an absolute bore it is to be fat

Oh, you may try to fool others
And others may succeed in fooling you
By saying you are
Buxom, cuddly, generously-proportioned.
But deep inside -
You know you can't fool yourself.
So, face it
And brace it
You're just plain FAT.

Be fat, it's fashionable,
Don't you know that dieting is the in-thing today?
Jogging, weight-watching, calorie-counting, sessions at Joanne Drew
Now how can you have the fun of moaning over the problems you have losing weight
Unless you are fat?

Fat people the world over have problems
For some, it is the embarrasment of having to buy XL undies
Or hearing an impudent urchin chant
"Fatty Fatty Bom Bom"

But whatever it is, take heart
You are not alone in this
So whenever a barb draws blood
Rise above your pain
Show them you are bigger than they

And when you have developed a DYNAMIC, attractive personality
You can smile to yourself when they say
"You are worth your weight in gold"

Because... YOU ARE!

P/S: As I never outgrew my "puppy fat", this little poem has been been my lucky charm and pushed me to work on developing a dynamic, attractive personality.

Lisa said...

"I love chocolate cake.
And when I was a little girl, I loved it even more.
Sometimes we used to have it for tea, and mum used to say, "If there's any leftover, you can have it to take to school, to have at play time."
And the next day, I would take it to school! Wrapped up in tin foil."

....

The moment we said EYE as in "I" love chocolate cake - the judges looked down. I was in Form 2 and you conducted our English class with that poem.

I have been 'heavily' involved with choral speaking ever since! The last was helping out the girls during last year's (or was it the year before last) choral speaking session for Merdeka celebrations.

There are still choral speaking competitions nowadays.. but sad to say, there seems to be a whole lot of movement, as if one is dancing on stage..! Pronounce, Enounce, Facial expression.. etc etc.

Ah, the wonderful memories of choral speaking.

5 August 2007 00:47

Joanna Yeoh said...

Thanks, Lisa. It is so encouraging to hear that my passion for choral speaking has been passed on to newer generations. That's the reason I kept going back to BB to conduct classes. Keep it up!

5 August 2007 16:46

jessie said...

I remembered I was in Miss Pek's English Class in Form 2. Sorry I couldn't remember which year but our title for Choral Speaking is The Pleasure Of Being Fat and coincidentally Joanna Yeoh is one of the judges!

11 January 2008 00:19

wai yi said...

Hi, Ijust happen to know about your blog through Facebook recently. Reading your blog surely has triggered my memories in BBGS.This poem was my choral speaking poem when I was in Rorm 2 in year 2000 but my conductress changed a few lines to have something new. We did not want to be sued for plagiarism right?haha:P My class nearly won that year as many people were saying that we were good in the semis but sad to say at the finals, we were just not good enough. But nonetheless we have enjoyed ourselves and the pleasure of mesmerizing the crowd with the poem. After reading your posts about choral spaking, feel like indulging the feeling of 'torture' again! hehe:op

9 May 2008 12:32