Wherein I am Glad the Kids are Gone

Okay, as promised here's the rundown of the Children's Day Carnival 2005 that I worked at over the weekend.

The banana got me the job - her company is in events management. Working hours were long, from 0900 till 2030 daily and the pay not too wonderful, but I thought it would be fun to work with kids (and also my rent is due), so I took up her offer.

Some pics from when I went for my briefing on Thursday. I laughed out loud when I saw the dino with the large yellow penis, which no one else seemed to get. Then again considering the gerenal ridiculousness you see in a kids' event I guess a large yellow penis is not entirely out of place.

My weekend schedule went something like this:

0700hrs - Wake up from alarm clock ringing from the other end of the room (placed thus to ensure I would have to get out of bed to switch it off), switching it off and going back to sleep.

0800hrs - Wake up to tweeting of birds outside my window. Take a half second to enjoy the sunlight streaming through my window and the sounds of nature before panicking because I'm going to be late. Get dressed in a hurry. Curse birds for not tweeting earlier and louder.

0830hrs - (day 1) fall asleep on the train, (day 2) fall asleep on the train, (day 3) sit uncomfortably in banana's dad's cab listening to small talk between banana's parents. Banana ignores me to listen to music. I would have slept, but upbringing tells me it is WRONG to snore, drool and loll my head about in front of friends' parents.

0930hrs - Make it to work on time, set up the Body Art booth and put some cartoons on the DVD player.

1000hrs - Wonder why anyone would wake up so early to bring their children to a god-forsaken corner of the island to see some exhibition. Change video.

1030hrs - Wonderwoman does her cabaret-type act on stage. Basically she dresses in a skimpy outfit and dances. She is probably the most entertaining thing on stage (to anyone above the age of 12).

The Flash and the Green Lantern come on after her bit with their fake muscles, which make the Flash look somewhat fat and the Green Lantern somewhat unbalanced (poor guy can't sit down in his costume because he can't bend his waist) for a photo-taking session which POSB provides free hard-copies for in an evil ploy to have parents visit the POSB booth and listen to a pep talk on invesment plans for children. Feel rather sickened by the whole affair, but realize that the cheapskate parents who go for the free photos probably won't be buying annuities for their kids anytime soon.

1100 - Wonder why the body painters haven't come yet, worry about the boss finding m at the booth, paintbrush in hand and a lame excuse for the body painters being sick on my lips, with a crying child on the make-up stool crying because the bat-sign I just drew on his face looks more like a turd in black.

1115hrs - Body painting goes underway. The crowd comes in waves. For some reason people only seem to com ewhen they see other people at your booth. I guess it's flock mentality. Children invariably run away from me when I ask them if they want to paint their faces. Screen Ultraman, because despite his lame costume and powers and lack of musculature the boys seem to love him.

1200hrs - Body painters go for their break, complain to me about the idiotic girls who want Powerpuff girl art on their bodies. This girl had all three - one on each arm and another on her cheek, and would have gotten more if not for her mother pulling her away. I anticipate she will grow up to be one of those girls with tatoos all over. (Day 3) we cut the Powerpuff girls and superhero logos form the menu and instantly customer base drops by about half. The power of the girls.

1215hrs - Wash the brushes and palettes. It's not exactly in my job description, but I like to think I'm making it easier and nicer to work for the body artists. Also by day two I'd finished watching all the videos and there was nothing to do, really.

1300hrs - Put on Masked Rider to keep the boys glued to the screen and watch the body painters do their work some more. I think around this time Anabelle Francis comes on stage to do a children's story-telling programme, which I can only describe as the shrieking of a banshee. She is frankly rather sinister, dressed in her outlandish costumes, surrounded by children and screeching in her incredibly high pitched voice about Keeger the Dog (or some such generic animal). The dog sounds like a beast with a commission from Down Below when she mimics the poor animal's voice. I usually beat a hasty retreat to the banana's booth around this time to get away from the aural torture.

1400hrs - Return to help the body painter pack up, close the queue and put some other video on the telly before running back to the banana's booth because now the Yamaha group comes on for their little song and dance.

Yamaha's performance involves really really really young kids about three years old in musical numbers. The poor things. They're herded like show creatures onto the stage to do their pathetic item, some children's song that they invariably forget the words (and tune) to, replete with simple actions that they invariably forget and have to be prompted by their teacher to do them. This is achieved by having their teacher stand in front of the stage to do the actions so the children have something to refer to.

It's disgusting child exploitation. Worse is the announcer going something like "Parents, if you want your kids to be able to perform like that (abysmally) then sign up now with Yamaha! Develope your kids' (lack of) talent!" As if parents are unable to teach children at age three how to sing or dance. You don't need a diploma in the performaing arts to do that, especially not your own kids, whom you're probably comfortable enough with to sing and dance with (assuming you're not dumb or wheelchair-bound). It's just an evil marketing strategy playing on parents' insecurities about not giving their children the "best" (employed by every single corporation in the event, except possibly the ride operators).

1500hrs - More body art! Around this time the kids really start swarming in to get their free body painting. Possibly the only time I actually need to be there to regualte the queue, though say what you want about Singaporeans being crazy about queueing we are also remarkably orderly queue-ers who seldom jump the line, though there is a tendency for the entire clan having to be in the queue at the same time just for the single kid to get his paint fix. By this time I start looping Ultraman, and some kids actually stay there to keep watching it despite having watched the earlier session. One kid was there almost the entire day. I have no idea why his mother was walking around the kids' carnival without her kid.

1600hrs - I close the queue for body art, which disappoints all the parents who come after. Usually they're quite nice about it, and will walk away once I tell them I cannot allow the tiny indiscretion of letting their kid in the queue. I try to smile.

1700hrs - Poor Melissa comes to my booth for a dance-lesson-segment. I try to help her (day 1) but it seems there aren't many kids interested in dance (maybe those who are were at the Yamaha booth). Melissa ended up playing running games with the children. I left poor Melissa to her devices on days 2 and 3, reasoning that there was no reason for both of us to stay and do nothing.

Fled to the banana booth, where they had competitions and lessons for kids. Was shattered by realization I couldn't complete a Rubik's Cube in an hour. Was shattered even more when I saw a kid complete it routinely under ten minutes. Evidently he does it on a daily basis with his dad, who is a mathematician. Also learnt that kids will be amused by the simplest drawing techniques.

1900hrs - Body art started up again. Watch over the last of the kids who want "body art" (COMMERCIAL MARKETING ICON BRANDED ON YOUR POOR INNOCNET FLESH!) and screen the sucky cartoons, because the crowd is supposed to leave. Listne to complaints of body artists (all of whom are fine arts students) who inform me you can earn up to 50 bucks an hour doing what they did (though on a somewhat larger scale) at malls and fashion shows.

2030hrs - Closing shop. More brush-washing and packing. (Day 3) Witnessed the deflated animals (insert bad pun about flaccid yellow dinosaur penis) and then loaded up the banana's company truck for Dhobby Ghaut.

2200hrs - Get home to do my newspaper summaries. Quality of work this weekend sucks due to lack of sleep and energy.

And... that's about it! Now I'm down with the flu, no doubt passed to me by one of the bratty kids whom I got too close with.

On the whole, it was a really fun job, I guess. Kids are adorable, really, and working with kids is hardly like working at all. Especially if all you're expected to do is to entertain them.

I want to be a mascot next time. Those large suits look intrigueing.