[ilikeoldchangke]

It took me about a week and a half to clear up a 10m radius of the area around the farmhouse. There were so much trash hidden below the ground, from old sandbags to construction debris. I even dug up the ends of a spade and an old car tyre.


Clearing the ground also revealed some stone path that got swallowed up by the turfing over the years. The overgrown grass hid a lot of other structures from stone benches to pave flooring. There’s even a large concrete plinth that will comfortably fit a small table with a couple of chairs.
Some of the wild grass and weeds are as tall as me. You could probably use it as training grounds for the military if left untouched.


Someone did good work on the original landscape many years ago. With no one to take care of the ground, the wild grass just swallowed everything up.

Many of the stone slabs are still in good conditions, I followed the direction which the slabs were laid and like digging up hidden treasure, I uncovered the remains of an intricate well-designed garden constructed years ago.

Some parts just need a good wash.


I did a rough sketch of the site and soon I have a pretty good idea what I want to do. I placed the orders for materials and the plants I wanted with Keng and slowly transported everything over to the farmhouse.

I planted the bamboos first, an entire load of 40 bamboo plants about a metre tall each I ordered. I encircled the concrete plinth which is about 3 metre in diameter and I lined up the 5 metres pathway leading away from the farmhouse towards the concrete island with the same plant.

With the bamboo as the centre piece, I added some small shrubs and flowering herbs to give the walkway a bit of layer and depth.

A small bamboo forest is thus born.
Isolated planters dotted along the side of the existing stone path are quickly filled with a variety of shrubs and flowering plants.


By the end of the 3rd week, you can slowly see everything coming together.
Change is coming.

I thought Declan was joking when he said I could come and go as I like when I work, but it turned out to be true. My initial worries about one of those crazy clowns coming to harass me was uncalled for.

No one really gave a hoot about me after a week or so. No one cared what time I came to work, no one asked when I leave work too. During my break times, I would wander the grounds of the large property, I would wave to the guards at the perimeter of the castle.


They would nod in acknowledgement out of courtesy, but we never exchanged words. Not when they are working. I get the occasional glance when men pass me by on the way to the cookhouse, but no one ever came to talk to me.

The large ground is made up of so many plots of different property. There isn’t an exact boundary, every property comes with its own gates and walls. I can’t tell where the kingdom of the queen begins and where it ends. What I can gather so far is if I see a property occupied with all mean looking men, chances are it belongs to the group.

The smiles and small chats at the cookhouse are more casual but other than the simple greeting, everyone pretty much kept to their own circle.

I sit alone usually in the peculiar cookhouse.


I don’t exactly belong into any of the groups, not that I did not try.
When I asked if I could share tables, they would give me a weird look and say that the seats are taken.
Some would just point to any of the empty tables scattered throughout the ground floor.

The men working in that place varied in their age. From youthful looking 18 year olds to men in their mid fifties. Tattoos are a common sight, several spotted visible scars on their limbs.


From their conversations, I could tell most of them have a checkered past.

The food hall sat along the street like any other of the private properties on the road. From the outside, you can’t tell the special function it serves.
A large 2.5 storey private bungalow converted into a food hall of sort sure gives a new perspective to the usage of the property.

Instead of your typical living room with a sofa and TV, the whole of the ground floor is filled with tables and chairs of different sizes and design. It’s as if everything has been scavenged from different places.
They look different but everything is well maintained.

The ground floor alone can comfortably fit 60-70 diners at any one time.

There are tables set along the sides of the railings on the 2nd floor as well overlooking the dining area below.


They are seldom occupied though.
There are always empty seats on the ground floor, why would you want to carry your food upstairs ?


A team of 3 cooks managing a team of 9 others staff the kitchen on a 24 hour rotation.

There’s one who has shades on permanently even though we are indoors, everyone calls him Bran. He sometimes will just stare into space and just zone out. I don’t think he’s blind, he obviously can see.

Another never spoke a single word, he just gestured with his hands. I’ve heard people call him Meng. For some reason, he always walks around with a knife and it seems he is always cutting something.


Fruits, vegetables, potatoes, there seemed to be a never-ending list of stuff he is cutting and preparing despite the helpers doing most of the stuff.

The last one seemed to be hard of hearing, I’ve seen a few men shouting at him to tell him what they needed. Deuce. Deuce is also the most jovial of all, always smiling and waving to everyone.

The 3 cooks felt like the representation of see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil. Peculiar men they may be, but they left everyone in no doubt who is in charge of the kitchen and the cook house.


They run a tight ship.

You take more food than you can finish, you can be sure to get a scolding.
You don’t return your dishes after you are done, a shouting match will ensue.
You mess up the table with your food and don’t clean up after, things will get ugly.

From what I can see, it’s usually the newcomers that get into trouble with the cooks. The old birds know exactly what not to do.


During lunch, I would usually see Hong bringing a few new guys into the cookhouse. He would explain loudly that they will go there for their meals, it’s as if he’s giving new recruits a tour of the cookhouse.

I’m good with faces. I estimate about half of them never stayed after their first meal. I can’t exactly say that place is a halfway house for ex-convicts or men who need help but it seems as if employment opportunities are presented to the newcomers, it’s up to them if they want to accept it.

Most of them did not take it up. I wonder if the terms of employments are not good, or it is the men themselves who are not up to par.


I know because I eat all 3 meals there from the 2nd day onwards. Some of those new faces never appeared again.
During mealtimes, some men would come with take away containers and the cooks would promptly fill them up.

Sometimes I would see a couple of men coming in with food bags similar to the kind we see in the army. They would take away food for about a dozen men before disappearing. It appears as if some of these men have to take their meals at their assigned posts or job.


Every new observation I make about my employer raises more questions. It’s like being given just the background piece of a children’s puzzle. A large rectangle with colourful borders and no pieces to fit within.

The cook house is great, I like the food, it’s free.

What’s not to like about it ?

The spread is good too.

Not exactly like a hotel buffet but still plenty of choices. For lunch and dinner, there’s 4 dishes and a soup. Out of the 4 dishes, there will be 2 types of vegetables and 2 meat dishes. Aside from the main dishes, there will be a variety of cold side dishes from kimchi to preserved cucumbers & turnips.
There is also a large tin of crispy chicken floss available too.

You get your choice of either white rice or multi grain.
Breakfast is a variety of bread and rolls with your choice of spreads. There’s usually a pot of porridge and a large fridge facing the kitchen is always stocked with cut fruits throughout the day.


There are 2 coffee machine, a beverage dispenser that churns out a variety of hot drinks from Milo to Macha Latte. There is even a soft drink dispenser.

From 9.00pm to 3.30am, the supper kiosk will be up. It could be Ikea style hotdogs bun, hot soy milk with fried dough sticks, sandwiches, fried beehoon or once a week, live burger stations.


Never in my dreams did I expect to be able to get a greasy Ramly burger at 10pm in the middle of a private estate in Singapore.

I could not help smiling as I bit down on my burger while sipping a hot cup of coffee as I stretched my aching legs.

This might well be in the list for one of the top 10 companies to work in if not for the shady dealings I suspect they are involved in.
Without even realising, I started to come to work earlier, and I would leave later. When I’m home, I would look forward to come to work.


I don’t clock a 9 to 6 schedule. There isn’t one for me to follow anyway.

That place felt magical to me almost surreal.

I don’t know why, I just can’t explain it.


Everything just seemed so strange, it’s like stepping into a different world.

I know it’s a matter of time before I start staying over in my little farmhouse which is why I started to bring more and more of my stuff over. I even stocked the shelves with food and snacks. I filled the fridge with some simple groceries and I even brought along my steamboat hotpot.


It makes absolute sense.

I go back to an empty house anyway, why not spend it at my work place which I have grown to like so much.

On a particularly windy morning, I barely stepped into the farmhouse when it started to pour. It rained heavily and I could barely see beyond a couple of metres of the window.

Well, the good thing about being a gardener, when it rains, I can’t work.
I set up the hot pot, threw in the instant broth and started a mini steamboat session while listening to music and enjoying the rain outside.
I dunked the thinly sliced beef into a sweet tangy sauce as smiled to myself.

The song might be right.
Heaven might just be a place on earth after all.


As the 1st month draws to a close, I started doing my sums and getting all the documents in order for Declan.

Every invoice was filled properly. I accounted for every cent that I spent on gardening supplies and equipment. With my basic bookkeeping skills, I neatly entered the figures and tallied up the balance.

I decided to get new tools for the garden and keep my own in the car. No point damaging my tools of the trade for this since they can well afford it.

I barely saw Declan and his associates other than Hong. Hong would pop by the cookhouse during lunch for a bit and that’s it.


I once saw Seven walking out from the castle before disappearing around the corner. He looked angry and I could hear him grunting and making weird noises even though he is out of sight.

Kamal walked by my farmhouse a couple of times but he’s always on his phone speaking expletives in different languages. I would give him a wave and he just return a nod.

Everyone seemed to be busy with something.

No one has time for the gardener. You can’t miss the obvious transformation the plain piece of land is going through; I get the occasional pop by of a couple of guys trying to see what else I was up to.


I eventually realised they are looking for a shady corner to smoke.

The queen doesn’t allow smoking near her castle.
I could not stand the cigarette butts they leave behind so I decided to do something about it.


I can’t stop them from smoking, but I can control where they go.

As long as it’s comfortable, has a seat and plenty of shade, they will go there. I ordered a patio umbrella that comes with a solid base you need to fill with water. I set it well away from the farmhouse within a cluster of 3 matured trees.


I put in a bin for the cigarette butts and within a day or 2, I could see a constant stream of smoke rising from the oasis. I’ll just keep adding more plants to that spot, linking it back to the main garden.

There is another reason why I wanted to work late everyday other than the fact that I love my job.

I would look towards the patio of the castle in the evening, hoping to catch a glimpse of the queen, but I never saw her again.


I would walk around the estate, poking my head about, trying to see if I can see the queen going about her business, with such a large place to manage, surely she must make sure everything is in order.
However, the queen proved to be as elusive as the scarlet pimpernel.

I spotted Declan several times near the entrance to the castle. He would go about his day in his usual prim and proper manner. Always well dressed in shirt, pants and leather shoes, Declan stood out from the rest.


Like a professional butler, he takes care of everything on behalf of the queen.

I work 5 days a week as agreed, but I clock almost 10-12 hours each day, sometimes I would leave well after 11pm. The amount of effort I put in is worth every cent of the 5k pay they offered me.

On the last weekend, I decided to pop by on a Saturday afternoon.

I had no reason to head back but I had nothing to do. I had my lunch and I figure I drop by to check on some of the shrubs I just transplanted onto the ground.




Satisfied that everything is in order, I did some cleaning up for the farmhouse before walking towards the cookhouse.

It was then I noticed something interesting happening.

There seemed to be an increase in the amount of activity on the property.