Kalau ada satu perkara yang saya boleh kongsi dengan semua anak-anak muda di Malaysia tentang apa yang saya perolehi sepanjang pengajian saya di Australia, ialah tentang luasnya dunia yang boleh kita terokai kalau kita mahu.
Memang benar, bukan senang mendapat peluang menjejak kaki ke negara orang. Tapi titik mula kembara kita tidak semestinya bermula di luar sempadan Malaysia. Setelah hampir setahun menghabiskan masa saya di Australia yang asalnya saya buru kerana saya mahu lari dari tanah air sendiri, sekarang saya tidak sabar pula mahu kembali ke Malaysia. Sebab saya tahu, apa yang saya alami dan pelajari di sini, kalau saya mahu semuanya saya boleh praktiskan di Malaysia.
Lebih 20 tahun membesar dalam komuniti Melayu, di sini saya mula menikmati kelebihan berkenalan dengan sahabat-sahabat dari pelbagai negara dan bangsa. Masing-masing mempunyai cerita dan pengalaman unik yang tersendiri. Teman serumah saya dari Itali memasak pasta paling sedap pernah saya rasa. Sahabat saya, chef dari Australia sangat meminati budaya India sehingga hampir semua sejarah, mitos, dan pengetahuan am tentang India boleh dia ceritakan kepada saya.
Buat seketika, di sini saya melihat dan mampu percaya dengan dunia persahabatan tanpa sempadan.
Begitu juga dengan falsafah “bekerja untuk hidup” yang diamalkan oleh kebanyakan penduduk Australia. Ini adalah satu lagi perkara baru yang saya belajar di sini. Bagi mereka, pekerjaan cuma satu cara untuk memenuhi perkara-perkara yang mereka mahu capai dalam hidup, bukannya matlamat dalam hidup itu sendiri. Oleh sebab itu, saya dapati ramai yang saya kenali di sini mempunyai pandangan hidup yang sangat menyenangkan. Hari-hari minggu penduduk di Australia dipenuhi dengan aktiviti-aktiviti luar seperti bersukan, piknik, dan berkhemah.
Selain itu, saya dapat lihat bagaimana pembangunan ekonomi yang pesat seiring dengan penjagaan alam sekitar yang rapi mampu meningkatkan taraf hidup rakyat Australia. Dengan adanya sistem kenderaan awam yang sistematik dan efisien, bandar Sydney dan kawasan-kawasan sekitarnya boleh dilawati dengan mudah tanpa memerlukan kenderaan peribadi. Begitu juga dengan kemudahan awam di kawasan rekreasi dan taman negara, hanya dengan kos yang rendah saya boleh berkhemah di kawasan rekreasi sekitar Sydney tanpa perlu risau akan keperluan keselamatan atau keselesaan diri kerana semuanya disediakan dan dijaga dengan baik oleh kerajaan tempatan dan negeri.
Melihat taraf dan kualiti hidup yang tinggi di Australia meningkatkan azam saya untuk mengamalkan ilmu sarjana dan pengalaman yang saya perolehi di sini di Malaysia. Bagi saya, tidak mustahil satu hari nanti, sekiranya anak-anak muda Malaysia mengamalkan budaya meneroka dunia tapi di masa yang sama menanam nilai untuk berbakti di tanah air sendiri, negara kita satu hari nanti mampu mengorak langkah standing dengan negara-negara maju yang lain.
Showing posts with label Published Articles. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Published Articles. Show all posts
Friday, June 26, 2009
Saturday, September 13, 2008
A Letter from Sydney
It’s mid-afternoon and the winter is at its end. Apart from the occasionally freezing wind blowing through the streets, the ocean is blue as the sky is clear, the sun is out and people wear shorts and thongs as if it is already summer. Mothers are sitting in a circle at one corner of the park, while a strong whiff of steak is distracting the passers-by as a group of youngsters are making full use one of the electric barbeques available for the public. Bikers, skateboarders, and casual runners keep passing by on the concrete pathway, and away in the sand a group of men are playing volleyball.
It’s 2 p.m. in broad daylight, it’s not weekend, it’s Australia – it’s my home for the time being and another fifteen months to come, and I love it to bits.
G’DAY FOLKS!
This is Ati, your book-loving friend writing from Sydney, Australia. I am at the moment completing my postgraduate degree in Environmental Management at the University of New South Wales (UNSW). Did I hear you said boring? Wait till you read the rest of my story!
Sydney is indeed a breeze of fresh air in comparison to Malaysia. The city is clean, the people are friendly, and nature is everywhere. When you look at the map and see how big Australia is compared to our country, believe me you’ll get the same feeling of wonder once you set your feet in this majestic country. I remember being swept away as my eyes caught the glimpse of Sydney Opera House from afar, its geometric roofs sprouted to the sky like a flower. You’ll be impressed with the Blue Mountains too; the vast sprawling forest covers spreads before you like a carpet, with a sprinkle of blue mist all over it. Oh and the beaches! I currently live in one of the Eastern Coastal Suburbs of Sydney, Coogee, and the beach is five minutes away from my house. The other day I was informed by my friend a mother whale and its calf are swimming leisurely in the ocean, meters away from the beach and I only had to run from the house in my flip flops to watch it. It’s like nature in my own backyard!
My dear readers, you’re already fuming with envy, aren’t you? I am not stopping yet! Australians, as it turns out, are quite big on sports and getting fit. That means plenty of pretty lasses and gorgeous blokes in their sports attire going around and about every day; running along the beach surfing in the sea, and coming in and out of the gym. In fact, if you look at the UNSW lifestyle centre (fancy word for gym, eh?), there are so many people in it made me wonder if these guys are doing their degree in getting fit or something. But eye candy aplenty nevertheless! People in Australia are extremely friendly too; only with a simple “Hi!” and “Good morning!” thrown out with a big smile, I could easily initiate a lengthy conversation with a stranger. Furthermore, they are so generous with kindness and affections, and to feel out of place in Sydney is definitely out of question. In fact, I think it is impossible not to go through the day without a slightest feeling of confidence and optimism about life once you encounter Australia and its people.
Now to the question of yours-truly, I must’ve written with enormous exuberance you might think I am not missing Malaysia at all. You’re partially correct my dear friend. If we’re talking about food, thanks to my culinary skills and the Kipas Udang soy sauce which I can always buy from the nearest oriental market, Malaysian food are always only a kitchen away. Recently I realized how simple yet creative our ancestors had been with the creation of food; the other day by using the same ingredients all over again, I was able to make buah Melaka, kuih koci, and tepung bungkus!
What about nasi briyani, roti canai, ayam tandoori and all those mamak cuisines I had always been so besotted with at home? No worries mate, did I tell you I am living with three housemates from India who are all exceptional in cooking we end up talking about opening a restaurant in Sydney instead of finishing our Master’s degrees. Fasting? Apart from occasional envy I lashed out at my brother for bragging about the lots of nasi dagang and satay he was having at home, the day ends as early as 5.30 p.m. in Sydney (and 3.30 p.m. in Malaysia, giving me a tons of reason to get back at him), so it’s not too bad at all.
Food aside, I am happy to let you know that I am indeed savoring my time in Sydney. The openness in which Australians practice in their discussion in particular allows me to express my opinions (and confusions) rather freely compared to what I had experienced at home, and it consequently gives me more room and courage in tackling the issue head on instead of keeping it boiling inside me. Nevertheless, as I had left Malaysia with the sole aim to untangle various confusions I was experiencing in relation to my religion, culture, and society, I am certain as much as I am enjoying my time in Australia, I will be looking forward to go back. Like the last time I attended a Malam Gema Merdeka organized by Malaysian students in conjunction with our National Day, I couldn’t believe myself as tears welled up in my eyes upon hearing M.Nasir’s Mentera Semerah Padi. I knew right then and there although sometimes there are so much I am unhappy about the current affairs in Malaysia, the country is as close to me as my own blood.
In the meantime my dear readers, I have fifteen months left and I am going to Fiji soon!
Your spirited book-lover, ATI
It’s 2 p.m. in broad daylight, it’s not weekend, it’s Australia – it’s my home for the time being and another fifteen months to come, and I love it to bits.
G’DAY FOLKS!
This is Ati, your book-loving friend writing from Sydney, Australia. I am at the moment completing my postgraduate degree in Environmental Management at the University of New South Wales (UNSW). Did I hear you said boring? Wait till you read the rest of my story!
Sydney is indeed a breeze of fresh air in comparison to Malaysia. The city is clean, the people are friendly, and nature is everywhere. When you look at the map and see how big Australia is compared to our country, believe me you’ll get the same feeling of wonder once you set your feet in this majestic country. I remember being swept away as my eyes caught the glimpse of Sydney Opera House from afar, its geometric roofs sprouted to the sky like a flower. You’ll be impressed with the Blue Mountains too; the vast sprawling forest covers spreads before you like a carpet, with a sprinkle of blue mist all over it. Oh and the beaches! I currently live in one of the Eastern Coastal Suburbs of Sydney, Coogee, and the beach is five minutes away from my house. The other day I was informed by my friend a mother whale and its calf are swimming leisurely in the ocean, meters away from the beach and I only had to run from the house in my flip flops to watch it. It’s like nature in my own backyard!
My dear readers, you’re already fuming with envy, aren’t you? I am not stopping yet! Australians, as it turns out, are quite big on sports and getting fit. That means plenty of pretty lasses and gorgeous blokes in their sports attire going around and about every day; running along the beach surfing in the sea, and coming in and out of the gym. In fact, if you look at the UNSW lifestyle centre (fancy word for gym, eh?), there are so many people in it made me wonder if these guys are doing their degree in getting fit or something. But eye candy aplenty nevertheless! People in Australia are extremely friendly too; only with a simple “Hi!” and “Good morning!” thrown out with a big smile, I could easily initiate a lengthy conversation with a stranger. Furthermore, they are so generous with kindness and affections, and to feel out of place in Sydney is definitely out of question. In fact, I think it is impossible not to go through the day without a slightest feeling of confidence and optimism about life once you encounter Australia and its people.
Now to the question of yours-truly, I must’ve written with enormous exuberance you might think I am not missing Malaysia at all. You’re partially correct my dear friend. If we’re talking about food, thanks to my culinary skills and the Kipas Udang soy sauce which I can always buy from the nearest oriental market, Malaysian food are always only a kitchen away. Recently I realized how simple yet creative our ancestors had been with the creation of food; the other day by using the same ingredients all over again, I was able to make buah Melaka, kuih koci, and tepung bungkus!
What about nasi briyani, roti canai, ayam tandoori and all those mamak cuisines I had always been so besotted with at home? No worries mate, did I tell you I am living with three housemates from India who are all exceptional in cooking we end up talking about opening a restaurant in Sydney instead of finishing our Master’s degrees. Fasting? Apart from occasional envy I lashed out at my brother for bragging about the lots of nasi dagang and satay he was having at home, the day ends as early as 5.30 p.m. in Sydney (and 3.30 p.m. in Malaysia, giving me a tons of reason to get back at him), so it’s not too bad at all.
Food aside, I am happy to let you know that I am indeed savoring my time in Sydney. The openness in which Australians practice in their discussion in particular allows me to express my opinions (and confusions) rather freely compared to what I had experienced at home, and it consequently gives me more room and courage in tackling the issue head on instead of keeping it boiling inside me. Nevertheless, as I had left Malaysia with the sole aim to untangle various confusions I was experiencing in relation to my religion, culture, and society, I am certain as much as I am enjoying my time in Australia, I will be looking forward to go back. Like the last time I attended a Malam Gema Merdeka organized by Malaysian students in conjunction with our National Day, I couldn’t believe myself as tears welled up in my eyes upon hearing M.Nasir’s Mentera Semerah Padi. I knew right then and there although sometimes there are so much I am unhappy about the current affairs in Malaysia, the country is as close to me as my own blood.
In the meantime my dear readers, I have fifteen months left and I am going to Fiji soon!
Your spirited book-lover, ATI
Monday, June 30, 2008
Throwing stereotypes out the window
We quarrel, we agree; we are friendly, we are not friendly. But we have no right to dictate through irresponsible action or narrow-mindedness the future of our children and their children’s children. There has been enough destruction. Enough death. Enough waste. And it’s time that, together, we occupy a place beyond ourselves, our peoples, that is worthy of them under the sun, the descendants of the children of Abraham.
“You should watch A Mighty Heart, it’s a great film.” I prompted to a friend once as we were finishing our works in the lab. She didn’t look up from her notebook, but asked, “What’s it about?”.
So on and on I talked animatedly about the true account of the journalist Daniel Pearl who was kidnapped and killed by terrorists in Karachi, Pakistan.
Amidst my talking, my friend suddenly hopelessly exclaimed, “Oh, it’s always our fault isn’t it?!”.
I remember feeling so overwhelmed by her reaction. It felt like an instant rush of blazing blood ran up to my head, and being taken over by a feeling so powerful - anger, fury, and dismay - it caused me to feel as if I am capable of strangling my friend’s neck and make her done with it.
Thankfully, I didn’t. But I did throw a fit it made my friend recoiled with surprise. I wasn’t angry at her, it’s her reaction I’m frustrated with. Coming from a friend I’ve shared countless debates and dialogues with, her remark wasn’t something I had expected.
It’s simple thinking
We’re living on shaky grounds these days, aren’t we? As young adults, we are facing numerous grueling issues which needs our attention and principles to stand up for. Everywhere we turn, expectations and judgments are posed to us, sadly, with the ultimate pressure coming from our own crowds.
It is undoubtedly difficult trying to establish our own foundation and still hoping for security and approval at the same time. Sometimes it is easier for us to adopt simplistic approach towards certain issues. But as put aptly by writer Walter Lippmann, “when all think alike, no one thinks very well”, we simply skip the laborious thinking process and pick up someone else’s ideas on the road to shed some light to our problems.
The result is continuing cycle of blame and endless attacks to which we contribute no fruitful solutions but empty rants and grandiloquence.
Still, we wonder from day-to-day what a living hell the world is, without realizing we are one of the agents fueling it!
M. Scott Peck in his Road Less Traveled series describes few possible reasons for us to opt for simple thinking.
It could be due to our grave need to preserve our sense of self-identity, in the case where one has always to be right.
Those of us who tend to see ourselves always as a victim, simplistic thinking become an escapism from being responsible for our own choices.
Meanwhile, there are lots of us too who are simply incapable of thinking in perspective to account for the consequences of our actions.
All of the above considered, it’s blatant narcissism.
Carving our own path
What if we create the world of our own ideas and traditions?
What happens if for a second, we forget about stereotypes, labeling, and assumptions - and begin to look at the world in our own eyes. Unpolluted. Remember how we often see the twinkle in a baby’s eyes, and their unassuming smile?
Somehow going for our dreams becomes easier, once we disregard our worries about the judgments people passed to us. Somehow finding beauty in the world is effortless, because all those labels people branded on things no longer matters once it’s our own eyes, our own heart, our own comprehension, we are using to see.
I remember a secret a fox whispered to the Little Prince - ‘very simply; you can only see things clearly with your heart. What is essential is invisible to the eye.’
Nevertheless, opening ourselves to the world requires dedication to readily accept (or rather, to deal with) truths.
It’s a rollercoaster journey to our understanding of the world.
Sometimes it contradicts us, it pulls us to the bottom pit of denial, it challenges us personally and forces us kneeling down to admit our mistakes and change our views. Sometimes it swells us with joy and inspiration, it proves to us our nudging conviction all along and finally allows us wings to fly our dreams.
No more instant excuses being thrown at problems we refuse to be a part of, no more scapegoating others for issues we know we are capable of contributing to, no more wallowing in self-pity and habits of falling victims to petty troubles we recognize are not worth our attention.
Looking at the world using our own eyes means learning to be ready to accept full responsibility for our existence on earth and be accounted for it.
The entry is inspired by Queen Rania’s project on YouTube, “Send Me Your Stereotypes”. Queen Rania recently launched her YouTube channel to invite dialogues between all citizens of the world to discuss about stereotypes on the Arab and Muslim world.
King Hussein of Jordan, 1998
“You should watch A Mighty Heart, it’s a great film.” I prompted to a friend once as we were finishing our works in the lab. She didn’t look up from her notebook, but asked, “What’s it about?”.
So on and on I talked animatedly about the true account of the journalist Daniel Pearl who was kidnapped and killed by terrorists in Karachi, Pakistan.
Amidst my talking, my friend suddenly hopelessly exclaimed, “Oh, it’s always our fault isn’t it?!”.
I remember feeling so overwhelmed by her reaction. It felt like an instant rush of blazing blood ran up to my head, and being taken over by a feeling so powerful - anger, fury, and dismay - it caused me to feel as if I am capable of strangling my friend’s neck and make her done with it.
Thankfully, I didn’t. But I did throw a fit it made my friend recoiled with surprise. I wasn’t angry at her, it’s her reaction I’m frustrated with. Coming from a friend I’ve shared countless debates and dialogues with, her remark wasn’t something I had expected.
It’s simple thinking
We’re living on shaky grounds these days, aren’t we? As young adults, we are facing numerous grueling issues which needs our attention and principles to stand up for. Everywhere we turn, expectations and judgments are posed to us, sadly, with the ultimate pressure coming from our own crowds.
It is undoubtedly difficult trying to establish our own foundation and still hoping for security and approval at the same time. Sometimes it is easier for us to adopt simplistic approach towards certain issues. But as put aptly by writer Walter Lippmann, “when all think alike, no one thinks very well”, we simply skip the laborious thinking process and pick up someone else’s ideas on the road to shed some light to our problems.
The result is continuing cycle of blame and endless attacks to which we contribute no fruitful solutions but empty rants and grandiloquence.
Still, we wonder from day-to-day what a living hell the world is, without realizing we are one of the agents fueling it!
M. Scott Peck in his Road Less Traveled series describes few possible reasons for us to opt for simple thinking.
It could be due to our grave need to preserve our sense of self-identity, in the case where one has always to be right.
Those of us who tend to see ourselves always as a victim, simplistic thinking become an escapism from being responsible for our own choices.
Meanwhile, there are lots of us too who are simply incapable of thinking in perspective to account for the consequences of our actions.
All of the above considered, it’s blatant narcissism.
Carving our own path
What if we create the world of our own ideas and traditions?
What happens if for a second, we forget about stereotypes, labeling, and assumptions - and begin to look at the world in our own eyes. Unpolluted. Remember how we often see the twinkle in a baby’s eyes, and their unassuming smile?
Somehow going for our dreams becomes easier, once we disregard our worries about the judgments people passed to us. Somehow finding beauty in the world is effortless, because all those labels people branded on things no longer matters once it’s our own eyes, our own heart, our own comprehension, we are using to see.
I remember a secret a fox whispered to the Little Prince - ‘very simply; you can only see things clearly with your heart. What is essential is invisible to the eye.’
Nevertheless, opening ourselves to the world requires dedication to readily accept (or rather, to deal with) truths.
It’s a rollercoaster journey to our understanding of the world.
Sometimes it contradicts us, it pulls us to the bottom pit of denial, it challenges us personally and forces us kneeling down to admit our mistakes and change our views. Sometimes it swells us with joy and inspiration, it proves to us our nudging conviction all along and finally allows us wings to fly our dreams.
No more instant excuses being thrown at problems we refuse to be a part of, no more scapegoating others for issues we know we are capable of contributing to, no more wallowing in self-pity and habits of falling victims to petty troubles we recognize are not worth our attention.
Looking at the world using our own eyes means learning to be ready to accept full responsibility for our existence on earth and be accounted for it.
The entry is inspired by Queen Rania’s project on YouTube, “Send Me Your Stereotypes”. Queen Rania recently launched her YouTube channel to invite dialogues between all citizens of the world to discuss about stereotypes on the Arab and Muslim world.
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
Much ado about works
How many of us today stands in front of the mirror and consequently feels proud of what we are now, without a hint of regret for not following our young dreams we had once upon a time?
How many of us today are still wondering why, for the love of God, are we still putting off those wishes we intend to pursue one day?
How many of us today are going to work simply because it pays?
It’s not easy making decisions for ourselves these days as a young adults. Because everyone in the world is ever so prepared to give us their two cents worth of advices of how things should go from now on, having finished the excruciating university years and holding a degree in our hands now.
It’s suffocating too, sometimes. Because all you get upon greetings by former teachers, long lost friends or distant relatives is so, what are you doing now? It’s only been a month since we finished our bachelor’s degree, we haven’t even had our convocation ceremony yet! Still, in no time we are being landed (forcefully or not) on the tracks of the rat race.
I have the chance to encounter several people in different lines of works which I took advices from on the career path I’m going to take. A lot inspires me, a few are merely sensible, while notable ones are, sad to say, downright ridiculous. The following I already put in a different categories:
1. The academia lots.
I stumbled upon a relative, who is seemingly a successful academician with big cars and a large mansion. Admittedly an expert among students, she asked me what are my plan after graduation. I answered simply, light as a day without realizing I had mentioned about declining an offer to be a lecturer. To my surprise, she suddenly broke into a fit, saying I had thrown a good offer out of the window. To add to the grievance, she confidently mentioned about how slim my chance is to get the scholarship I wanted for my choice of study.
I might risk a confrontation by saying it, but few of my lecturers are not quite different too. It shocked me to see how pathological the drive of certain people to step up the academic world. It’s barking mad!
Fortunately, a lecturer or two are clearly passionate with their subjects. Like Mr. S, whom with confidence had defended his subjects with a great stance of at least if I die, I can say I had learned about the world a little bit more than others. It was about the only time a profit-driven bioprocess expert earned my admiration.
2. The survivor lots
We might have chosen different things to prioritize in life. Some chooses family, some chooses career, some chooses religion. Different as it may be, each of us have a reason to inspire, as long as we are doing things we deserve to do. I talked to a TUNZA journalist I had met in Cologne. Affable but composed, she told me about how she wanted to write. As she had studied poetry in college. But as she had her baby, she had to work for something more tangible. A friend of mine is eager to start her family, right after graduation. Two are already engaged and soon to be married. For my friends, the foundation for their cause would be their family and how they want to build the foundation.
Oh, how it would take a lot of guts, and it offers every reasons to inspire. Setting yourself aside for others, practicing for altruism and philanthropic world? Family is always a good place to start!
3. The passionate lots.
These would be of those who started off doing something and ended up doing something else, and those who is simply inspiring in their everyday job, no matter what they do or how they do it.
Mr. Songpol, with his calm demeanours and smiling face, had easily chatted to me while we are waiting for our servings at a brauhaus in the cold city of Cologne. An engineering graduate turns news editor at the Bangkok Post, he assures me how a journalist doesn’t actually need to be all rapturous and vibrant, because it’ll defeat the purpose of observing people and turning the live situation into words later.
My female icons are endless, each with her own strength and beliefs in her advocates. Be it in women right, environment, or humanities. A supervisor who took me under her wing during my internship is one such individual, I am still scared of her (but inspired, nevertheless), sometimes.
I recently learned about Zainah Anwar, and decided to take after her in certain things. Chong Sheau Ching is still my favorite author, for I share similar academic background and working aspirations as she had. Kathleen Kelly, Celine, Maddie, and Tessa, all are my favorite characters I base my dreams on.
My mother had asked me few times about what I actually dream to work as, I could not really give her a straight answer. For I can only take one step at a time for now, each step I intend to take me closer to my dreams. As any other youth, I want to believe I can trust in my dreams, and I wish for those around me to have faith in my dreams. If we want a freedom to make choices, we believe the freedom to make the choice is now. All we are asking for is faith, a faith in these young hands to carve their own future.
To my friends, I know it’s not easy to make the decision on our own sometimes. But stand up for what we believe in, and people will see how trust can be put upon our shoulders. Read, go out, get to know more people - it will make you see how those dreams, stored at the back of your minds, are all made to be real.
So, are you today where you want to be?
How many of us today are still wondering why, for the love of God, are we still putting off those wishes we intend to pursue one day?
How many of us today are going to work simply because it pays?
It’s not easy making decisions for ourselves these days as a young adults. Because everyone in the world is ever so prepared to give us their two cents worth of advices of how things should go from now on, having finished the excruciating university years and holding a degree in our hands now.
It’s suffocating too, sometimes. Because all you get upon greetings by former teachers, long lost friends or distant relatives is so, what are you doing now? It’s only been a month since we finished our bachelor’s degree, we haven’t even had our convocation ceremony yet! Still, in no time we are being landed (forcefully or not) on the tracks of the rat race.
I have the chance to encounter several people in different lines of works which I took advices from on the career path I’m going to take. A lot inspires me, a few are merely sensible, while notable ones are, sad to say, downright ridiculous. The following I already put in a different categories:
1. The academia lots.
I stumbled upon a relative, who is seemingly a successful academician with big cars and a large mansion. Admittedly an expert among students, she asked me what are my plan after graduation. I answered simply, light as a day without realizing I had mentioned about declining an offer to be a lecturer. To my surprise, she suddenly broke into a fit, saying I had thrown a good offer out of the window. To add to the grievance, she confidently mentioned about how slim my chance is to get the scholarship I wanted for my choice of study.
I might risk a confrontation by saying it, but few of my lecturers are not quite different too. It shocked me to see how pathological the drive of certain people to step up the academic world. It’s barking mad!
Fortunately, a lecturer or two are clearly passionate with their subjects. Like Mr. S, whom with confidence had defended his subjects with a great stance of at least if I die, I can say I had learned about the world a little bit more than others. It was about the only time a profit-driven bioprocess expert earned my admiration.
2. The survivor lots
We might have chosen different things to prioritize in life. Some chooses family, some chooses career, some chooses religion. Different as it may be, each of us have a reason to inspire, as long as we are doing things we deserve to do. I talked to a TUNZA journalist I had met in Cologne. Affable but composed, she told me about how she wanted to write. As she had studied poetry in college. But as she had her baby, she had to work for something more tangible. A friend of mine is eager to start her family, right after graduation. Two are already engaged and soon to be married. For my friends, the foundation for their cause would be their family and how they want to build the foundation.
Oh, how it would take a lot of guts, and it offers every reasons to inspire. Setting yourself aside for others, practicing for altruism and philanthropic world? Family is always a good place to start!
3. The passionate lots.
These would be of those who started off doing something and ended up doing something else, and those who is simply inspiring in their everyday job, no matter what they do or how they do it.
Mr. Songpol, with his calm demeanours and smiling face, had easily chatted to me while we are waiting for our servings at a brauhaus in the cold city of Cologne. An engineering graduate turns news editor at the Bangkok Post, he assures me how a journalist doesn’t actually need to be all rapturous and vibrant, because it’ll defeat the purpose of observing people and turning the live situation into words later.
My female icons are endless, each with her own strength and beliefs in her advocates. Be it in women right, environment, or humanities. A supervisor who took me under her wing during my internship is one such individual, I am still scared of her (but inspired, nevertheless), sometimes.
I recently learned about Zainah Anwar, and decided to take after her in certain things. Chong Sheau Ching is still my favorite author, for I share similar academic background and working aspirations as she had. Kathleen Kelly, Celine, Maddie, and Tessa, all are my favorite characters I base my dreams on.
My mother had asked me few times about what I actually dream to work as, I could not really give her a straight answer. For I can only take one step at a time for now, each step I intend to take me closer to my dreams. As any other youth, I want to believe I can trust in my dreams, and I wish for those around me to have faith in my dreams. If we want a freedom to make choices, we believe the freedom to make the choice is now. All we are asking for is faith, a faith in these young hands to carve their own future.
To my friends, I know it’s not easy to make the decision on our own sometimes. But stand up for what we believe in, and people will see how trust can be put upon our shoulders. Read, go out, get to know more people - it will make you see how those dreams, stored at the back of your minds, are all made to be real.
So, are you today where you want to be?
Friday, March 28, 2008
Rules of attraction
It starts with a chance encounter. The element of surprise would always give you away, after having done all the mundane routines; going, waiting, and returning - his sudden presence at such unexpected times comes almost as a gift, a present for you.
The scientific laws
Next comes the impulsive sizing up of the choosy female in you. Your eyes fell ultimately first on his strong jaws and prominent brows. As he curiously searched the crowd, and finally stopped to catch you in the act, your heart skips a beat, until his serious face breaks into a wide grin, obviously amused. You smile back, warmly, seriously, as if being kind instead of shying away.
You do not proceed to think of anything at first, because throughout the course of twenty years of your life, you have decided to put forth self-respect and dignity above everything else. You accepted the existence of boundaries between yourself and the surrounding males, which if penetrated with selfless acts could leave a mark so deep without you ever intended so.
Until of course, a friend approaches you to say hi with the very object of your esteem by his side, you could not help but be glad to find his broad shoulders and narrow hip so easily cloaked with his white t-shirt and blue jeans. More so as he look at you, evidently surprised at such trite coincidence. Having shared a little secret now, both of you nod and smile at each other with a twinkle in the eyes.
It’s good to know you too, your heart secretly wished. You smile to yourself, regaled by the sudden emergence of the cheeky voice in you, which you know often indicates trouble.
Subjective reality
Subconsciously, you begin to realize the opportunity presented to you at the moment. The thoughts you have always dream about; the whats and hows of your first meeting with the significant other starts to find a way to manifest itself.
Eager to project a strong persona, you sit up straight and lean forward a little, asking him a few questions about himself. He answered sweetly, and ask several questions in return. Both of you would have continued to talk had your friend not interfered. Affectedly bashful by your interest and your friend’s teasing remark, he smiles at his drink. You throw a shot of look at your friend, silently asking him to be understanding.
As you do not want to be too intrusive, you retreated. Resting yourself against the chair, you retired to become the observer of the conversation among the two men. An admirer from afar. You laugh along their jokes, throwing in a comment or two. The situation did not permit for anymore revelation of his personality, as much as you wish to know. But you did share a number of glances with him, and hoping it would flourish into something.
There are times you feel like giving in to fate. Because sometimes the world seems to work in random and reality is out of your control. What if he is simply one of the many men to appear in your life, but who is not supposed to leave any mark? You surely know how bleak is the definition of love at first sight given your previous failed (or rather, faux) experiences.
Alas, you are a person who knows herself, and the power of believing in the beauty of her dreams. You do not fear failure or disappointment, hence you are always ready to enjoy things while it last. You assume responsibility of your actions, and therefore you possess the power to create and channel the reality to become your dreams.
So you continue to enjoy the conversations, even at times only indirectly. You give him the occasional discreet look, the secret smile to say I am here. A few times your friend caught you in the act, you had to casually laugh it off.
Lowering the love costs
Soon arrives the time to part, and you are keen not to leave things hanging. Especially after he had walk especially towards you to say his goodbye. You are frantic at the forced separation. You look at your friend, attempting to make it looks as if you are handing him a few stuffs, while mouthing to him playfully, I like your friend. You sure hope he gets the message, because guys are known to be hopeless at such things.
As you walk home that day, you are giddy with confidence and hope. Though with time a realization dawn upon you how unlikely it is going to work. You had to cross proximity and meeting frequencies out of the possibilities of bringing the encounter to the friendship level. You nearly cursed at no longer having your Friendster account, because otherwise you might be able to dig up something, whatever his name is. But you eventually laughed at the ridiculity of it; you cannot be the young girl with her fancy and delicate relationship game anymore.
You are a grown-up woman now, with strength, passion, and independence only a select few are able to see. You do not wait for love to come around, you live because of it. As much as his sweet smile and deep-set eyes intrigued you, you put him at the back of your mind. Not forgetting him, but not waiting for him either. You return to your friends, talking and sharing with every single one of them. You sit with your family, savoring every moments you could. You read, you sing, and you dream.
So you do what a woman you always envision to be does. You silently wish the best of happiness to your new acquaintance, and convinced nonetheless at the share of your bliss however it may be. You want him to live fully, as you do. Because if chance permits another meeting, both of you will be ready with a cupboard full of adventures to share. But if you are not meeting him again, both of you will surprise another new friends.
The trick is to live the best you can.
Reciprocal liking? You smile at the thought of it, because you are certain there is a tiny glitter of possibility.
The scientific laws
Next comes the impulsive sizing up of the choosy female in you. Your eyes fell ultimately first on his strong jaws and prominent brows. As he curiously searched the crowd, and finally stopped to catch you in the act, your heart skips a beat, until his serious face breaks into a wide grin, obviously amused. You smile back, warmly, seriously, as if being kind instead of shying away.
You do not proceed to think of anything at first, because throughout the course of twenty years of your life, you have decided to put forth self-respect and dignity above everything else. You accepted the existence of boundaries between yourself and the surrounding males, which if penetrated with selfless acts could leave a mark so deep without you ever intended so.
Until of course, a friend approaches you to say hi with the very object of your esteem by his side, you could not help but be glad to find his broad shoulders and narrow hip so easily cloaked with his white t-shirt and blue jeans. More so as he look at you, evidently surprised at such trite coincidence. Having shared a little secret now, both of you nod and smile at each other with a twinkle in the eyes.
It’s good to know you too, your heart secretly wished. You smile to yourself, regaled by the sudden emergence of the cheeky voice in you, which you know often indicates trouble.
Subjective reality
Subconsciously, you begin to realize the opportunity presented to you at the moment. The thoughts you have always dream about; the whats and hows of your first meeting with the significant other starts to find a way to manifest itself.
Eager to project a strong persona, you sit up straight and lean forward a little, asking him a few questions about himself. He answered sweetly, and ask several questions in return. Both of you would have continued to talk had your friend not interfered. Affectedly bashful by your interest and your friend’s teasing remark, he smiles at his drink. You throw a shot of look at your friend, silently asking him to be understanding.
As you do not want to be too intrusive, you retreated. Resting yourself against the chair, you retired to become the observer of the conversation among the two men. An admirer from afar. You laugh along their jokes, throwing in a comment or two. The situation did not permit for anymore revelation of his personality, as much as you wish to know. But you did share a number of glances with him, and hoping it would flourish into something.
There are times you feel like giving in to fate. Because sometimes the world seems to work in random and reality is out of your control. What if he is simply one of the many men to appear in your life, but who is not supposed to leave any mark? You surely know how bleak is the definition of love at first sight given your previous failed (or rather, faux) experiences.
Alas, you are a person who knows herself, and the power of believing in the beauty of her dreams. You do not fear failure or disappointment, hence you are always ready to enjoy things while it last. You assume responsibility of your actions, and therefore you possess the power to create and channel the reality to become your dreams.
So you continue to enjoy the conversations, even at times only indirectly. You give him the occasional discreet look, the secret smile to say I am here. A few times your friend caught you in the act, you had to casually laugh it off.
Lowering the love costs
Soon arrives the time to part, and you are keen not to leave things hanging. Especially after he had walk especially towards you to say his goodbye. You are frantic at the forced separation. You look at your friend, attempting to make it looks as if you are handing him a few stuffs, while mouthing to him playfully, I like your friend. You sure hope he gets the message, because guys are known to be hopeless at such things.
As you walk home that day, you are giddy with confidence and hope. Though with time a realization dawn upon you how unlikely it is going to work. You had to cross proximity and meeting frequencies out of the possibilities of bringing the encounter to the friendship level. You nearly cursed at no longer having your Friendster account, because otherwise you might be able to dig up something, whatever his name is. But you eventually laughed at the ridiculity of it; you cannot be the young girl with her fancy and delicate relationship game anymore.
You are a grown-up woman now, with strength, passion, and independence only a select few are able to see. You do not wait for love to come around, you live because of it. As much as his sweet smile and deep-set eyes intrigued you, you put him at the back of your mind. Not forgetting him, but not waiting for him either. You return to your friends, talking and sharing with every single one of them. You sit with your family, savoring every moments you could. You read, you sing, and you dream.
So you do what a woman you always envision to be does. You silently wish the best of happiness to your new acquaintance, and convinced nonetheless at the share of your bliss however it may be. You want him to live fully, as you do. Because if chance permits another meeting, both of you will be ready with a cupboard full of adventures to share. But if you are not meeting him again, both of you will surprise another new friends.
The trick is to live the best you can.
Reciprocal liking? You smile at the thought of it, because you are certain there is a tiny glitter of possibility.
Saturday, January 5, 2008
Being green is difficult
I once proposed a suggestion to my friend as we got ourselves drained in a heated debate about global warming and the fate of environment in Malaysia. I asked, what if all these conflicts are simply a cycle every nation has to go through? What if it is a necessary hierarchical development for us to climb; from being a war-torn and illiterate, to industrialized and finally an eco-concious country as a result?
What if right now we are simply not there yet?
I had, of course, concluded my idea with a hint of sarcasm and defeat, in submission to our failure of contributing fruitfully to environmental cause during our student days.
So, imagine my surprise to find the idea being supported by a Dr. Ulrich Bornewasser during his talk about the evolution of clean industrial process in Germany. Perhaps not in its entirety, but as Dr. Bornewasser describes about how the Germans tolerated the toxic-laden Rhine river in early 70s because the issue of environment was not as important as how industries provide the nation their bread and bacon, I tried to match their condition to ours. A question arise in my mind, are we Malaysians today where the Germans were 50 years ago?
If my theory is correct, it means I can only see Malaysia the way Germany is now when I am almost 70 years of age!
Despite our enthusiasm towards being environmentally-sound citizens, living green in Malaysia is still difficult. Conventionality, convenience, economic - the reasons to resist our effort in being eco-conscious are manifold. Changing our habits is one thing, encouraging others is a different challenge altogether. Separating the garbage in my house for instance, requires additional chore on my part, because I would be grateful enough if the leftover foods on the table go straight to the bin or it becomes my duty to dispose the fermented variety if I come home later. Composting? Our house doesn’t have a lawn. Cooking organic food and fair-trade ingredients? Only if we get lucky, because in my family, cooking at all is considered festive. Plastic bags? Mom says there are thousands use for it as a reason for us to hoard the plastic bags at home after our grocery shopping, only what the use are, I suppose mom never really finds out (she suggested once, I could make a coaster out of the colorful plastic bag, I forgot to answer her, mom, we don’t use coasters in our home).
I am talking still about trying to save the world in our limited personal space, not yet touching the issues of nature conservation and fighting for the cause of threatened species. My brothers spends their free time finishing the last bits of electric power to win their Need for Speed match, mom and dad works almost 24/7 in front of their little notebook. How on earth could I ever persuade my family to spend a screen-free weekend camping by the river? Only if I rich enough to sponsor everyone to experience the soothing dawn with the hornbills at Taman Negara, but the last time I volunteered, I burnt a hole in my scholarship pocket money and my Kancil tyres suffered a considerable injury after a proud attempt to follow the PERHILITAN’s four-wheel drive vehicle up the hill of Genting. As of now, I am broke, jobless, and severely anxious for not being able to live up to my green living expectations. At the rate I am going, being green seems as far unattainable as living luxuriously celebrity-like. Then again, who drives the hybrid Toyota Prius and supports the use of solar energy but the likes Leonardo DiCaprio and Edward Norton? Enough said.
Moreover, it is not helping that green living is not endorsed by our system. Imagine going to a supermarket where no plastic bags are given out (like the moment I fumbled at a grocery store in Cologne for being so used to plastic bags, I was embarrassed but glad!) and where our garbage will only be collected if they are separated according to their material types, surely it would make me feel a lot better. Imagine the kitchen basin with a complete grinding system for organic waste, which will be flushed straight to the composting system. Imagine!
So, I am honestly partially glad at the news given by Dr. Bornewasser, I try not to feel too bad and too guilty for living like a bum at home for now. The fault couldn’t be mine alone. I certainly hope, as Germany 50 years ago, Malaysia right now is moving ahead towards equipping herself bits by bits, to be a sustainably-developed country. Perhaps it’s unfair, to expect things to be done all at once. Even human developed progressively, even Rome wasn’t built in a day. We are, all of us, I hope, moving in the right directions.
The time will soon come, when I work with the United Nations earning a five figure salary, dividing my time between my homeland and South Africa, working on various conservation and community projects. The time will come, when I am engaged with my comrades from other countries, the way we were acquainted years before, fighting for a cause we all believe in. The time will come, when I pioneer the practice of nationwide domestic recycling and composting in every household.
For now, forgive me - for dreaming excessively - because living green is difficult.
What if right now we are simply not there yet?
I had, of course, concluded my idea with a hint of sarcasm and defeat, in submission to our failure of contributing fruitfully to environmental cause during our student days.
So, imagine my surprise to find the idea being supported by a Dr. Ulrich Bornewasser during his talk about the evolution of clean industrial process in Germany. Perhaps not in its entirety, but as Dr. Bornewasser describes about how the Germans tolerated the toxic-laden Rhine river in early 70s because the issue of environment was not as important as how industries provide the nation their bread and bacon, I tried to match their condition to ours. A question arise in my mind, are we Malaysians today where the Germans were 50 years ago?
If my theory is correct, it means I can only see Malaysia the way Germany is now when I am almost 70 years of age!
Despite our enthusiasm towards being environmentally-sound citizens, living green in Malaysia is still difficult. Conventionality, convenience, economic - the reasons to resist our effort in being eco-conscious are manifold. Changing our habits is one thing, encouraging others is a different challenge altogether. Separating the garbage in my house for instance, requires additional chore on my part, because I would be grateful enough if the leftover foods on the table go straight to the bin or it becomes my duty to dispose the fermented variety if I come home later. Composting? Our house doesn’t have a lawn. Cooking organic food and fair-trade ingredients? Only if we get lucky, because in my family, cooking at all is considered festive. Plastic bags? Mom says there are thousands use for it as a reason for us to hoard the plastic bags at home after our grocery shopping, only what the use are, I suppose mom never really finds out (she suggested once, I could make a coaster out of the colorful plastic bag, I forgot to answer her, mom, we don’t use coasters in our home).
I am talking still about trying to save the world in our limited personal space, not yet touching the issues of nature conservation and fighting for the cause of threatened species. My brothers spends their free time finishing the last bits of electric power to win their Need for Speed match, mom and dad works almost 24/7 in front of their little notebook. How on earth could I ever persuade my family to spend a screen-free weekend camping by the river? Only if I rich enough to sponsor everyone to experience the soothing dawn with the hornbills at Taman Negara, but the last time I volunteered, I burnt a hole in my scholarship pocket money and my Kancil tyres suffered a considerable injury after a proud attempt to follow the PERHILITAN’s four-wheel drive vehicle up the hill of Genting. As of now, I am broke, jobless, and severely anxious for not being able to live up to my green living expectations. At the rate I am going, being green seems as far unattainable as living luxuriously celebrity-like. Then again, who drives the hybrid Toyota Prius and supports the use of solar energy but the likes Leonardo DiCaprio and Edward Norton? Enough said.
Moreover, it is not helping that green living is not endorsed by our system. Imagine going to a supermarket where no plastic bags are given out (like the moment I fumbled at a grocery store in Cologne for being so used to plastic bags, I was embarrassed but glad!) and where our garbage will only be collected if they are separated according to their material types, surely it would make me feel a lot better. Imagine the kitchen basin with a complete grinding system for organic waste, which will be flushed straight to the composting system. Imagine!
So, I am honestly partially glad at the news given by Dr. Bornewasser, I try not to feel too bad and too guilty for living like a bum at home for now. The fault couldn’t be mine alone. I certainly hope, as Germany 50 years ago, Malaysia right now is moving ahead towards equipping herself bits by bits, to be a sustainably-developed country. Perhaps it’s unfair, to expect things to be done all at once. Even human developed progressively, even Rome wasn’t built in a day. We are, all of us, I hope, moving in the right directions.
The time will soon come, when I work with the United Nations earning a five figure salary, dividing my time between my homeland and South Africa, working on various conservation and community projects. The time will come, when I am engaged with my comrades from other countries, the way we were acquainted years before, fighting for a cause we all believe in. The time will come, when I pioneer the practice of nationwide domestic recycling and composting in every household.
For now, forgive me - for dreaming excessively - because living green is difficult.
Monday, December 24, 2007
Escaping to Kuantan
A circle of my friends and I seem to agree on a joke about Kuantan as we first arrived at the town a year ago. Rural migrants, we call ourselves. Having been forced to migrate from the big city of Kuala Lumpur as a result of our campus relocation, the first thing we noticed about the town was how slow it seems for everything to get done.
Our colleagues used to tease my friend as she drives her rustic red Kancil about town. Five minutes, they would say, I bet she’s going to lose her temper in five minutes. A true KL urbanite who used to live in Seattle for eight years, driving in the sleepy town of Kuantan is certainly a challenge for my friend.
Fast-forward almost a year and a half later, I find myself complaining about anxiety to my friend as we drove home after a visit to Mid Valley Megamall. God, I don’t remember how busy KL was. My friend smiled and nodded, I don’t think I’m going to remember KL after all these years of studying, it’s Kuantan which actually shaped us.
Rural happiness
My friend is right. Despite our never-ending complaints at the beginning, we soon discover tons of excuses to appreciate the city. Besides, the thought of graduating in a year gave us a firm resolve not to let time pass by with us brooding in our rooms.
One of the first things Kuantan has to offer which readily melt our heart was of course, its sightly city. The air is clear compared to the smoky haze we are accustomed to in KL, and often we wake up to a thick fog blanketing our campus in the morning. I particularly love it the way we could see the beaches as I drive up the spiral route to Berjaya Megamall parking lot, we could even taste the salty air sometimes during hot days. Teluk Chempedak, with its vast shoreline and friendly breeze, became our playgrounds day and night. The audacious monkeys and their little ones, together with the weary cats, are simply considered as the rightful inhabitants of the beach. Oh, did I mention about the macaques with their hooting match, and the way we could spot the hornbill couples jumping from tree to tree while waiting for the traffic light to go green?
In Kuantan, everything is so blended in together it is impossible to pick one thing apart from another. Look at one of its many food court, for instance, Dataran Gambut, which features a local band every Wednesday night. It was a defining moment for me the first time the band took their seats and play their music, because it was so unlike I had expected a music band to be. The members are usually escorted by some family members, ranging from wives to elderly dad. One of the singers (the only female singer) wears tudung and sings in Mandarin! During one Maulidur Rasul night, the band started their session with a lengthy selawat, to be joined in by other diners despite the awkward looks of few youngsters. My friend and I could sit there by ourselves without ever feeling out of place. Recently we found a new eatery spot, Relax Cafe, where I enjoyed a delightful Terengganu traditional mini bun, served English way complete with a New Zealand butter and home made kaya and soft-boiled eggs. It was hillarious! Restoran Zaman is another place I couldn’t help but be amazed every visit. Not only the customers are plenty, but they seem to come from everywhere; TUDM, tourists on the road, and the nearby residents. It makes me feel like I was the one who is a native Kuantan dweller.
Speaking of native Kuantan dwellers, I would say they are a vivacious lots. Not quite as wary as Kelantanese or as proud as KL urbanites, it seems like they are always ready to say something to us everywhere we go. In addition, the way we get to reach to every different nooks and crannies of Kuantan city allows us to befriend different people. We encountered a kind lady during one of Ramadhan nights, at the mosque where we had our tarawih, who is now a landlady to one of my friends. My car was once sent to a workshop located deep in one of the kampungs hidden behind a factory. We even cut a business deal with one of the restaurant owners we used to frequent during our supper excursions. Living in Kuantan to me feels like being in a magical kingdom where we get to go places and meet different people to complete our tasks. Unlike in KL, where we are only students whose life are bound by the surrounding boundaries of our campus, in Kuantan we became its inhabitants, one with the city itself.
Kuantan in a nutshell
In a way, this was how Kuantan shaped us. It slows us down from the usual hurried KL lifestyle. We have no traffic to avoid, no LRT schedules to keep up to. Everything is almost within a 10-minute drive. We could sit with our friends, enjoying each other companies, and simply watch people going about. We could visit a cafe so often the waiters know us and let us be by ourselves how many hours we intended to. Kuantan relieves us of the many aggrandizements we used to crave (shopping spree, Burger King, Hush Puppies) we turn to the comfort of our personal friends to get by the ample time we have in our hands.
We learn to communicate through lengthy conversation, exchanging ideas on our likes and dislikes. We get to know each other better, and we become avid observers of each other’s habits we could spell each one’s with eyes closed. Friendship become important, and materialistic substitutes become, only substitutes.
I would like to relate about the variety of food we have experienced, but that is another story…
Our colleagues used to tease my friend as she drives her rustic red Kancil about town. Five minutes, they would say, I bet she’s going to lose her temper in five minutes. A true KL urbanite who used to live in Seattle for eight years, driving in the sleepy town of Kuantan is certainly a challenge for my friend.
Fast-forward almost a year and a half later, I find myself complaining about anxiety to my friend as we drove home after a visit to Mid Valley Megamall. God, I don’t remember how busy KL was. My friend smiled and nodded, I don’t think I’m going to remember KL after all these years of studying, it’s Kuantan which actually shaped us.
Rural happiness
My friend is right. Despite our never-ending complaints at the beginning, we soon discover tons of excuses to appreciate the city. Besides, the thought of graduating in a year gave us a firm resolve not to let time pass by with us brooding in our rooms.
One of the first things Kuantan has to offer which readily melt our heart was of course, its sightly city. The air is clear compared to the smoky haze we are accustomed to in KL, and often we wake up to a thick fog blanketing our campus in the morning. I particularly love it the way we could see the beaches as I drive up the spiral route to Berjaya Megamall parking lot, we could even taste the salty air sometimes during hot days. Teluk Chempedak, with its vast shoreline and friendly breeze, became our playgrounds day and night. The audacious monkeys and their little ones, together with the weary cats, are simply considered as the rightful inhabitants of the beach. Oh, did I mention about the macaques with their hooting match, and the way we could spot the hornbill couples jumping from tree to tree while waiting for the traffic light to go green?
In Kuantan, everything is so blended in together it is impossible to pick one thing apart from another. Look at one of its many food court, for instance, Dataran Gambut, which features a local band every Wednesday night. It was a defining moment for me the first time the band took their seats and play their music, because it was so unlike I had expected a music band to be. The members are usually escorted by some family members, ranging from wives to elderly dad. One of the singers (the only female singer) wears tudung and sings in Mandarin! During one Maulidur Rasul night, the band started their session with a lengthy selawat, to be joined in by other diners despite the awkward looks of few youngsters. My friend and I could sit there by ourselves without ever feeling out of place. Recently we found a new eatery spot, Relax Cafe, where I enjoyed a delightful Terengganu traditional mini bun, served English way complete with a New Zealand butter and home made kaya and soft-boiled eggs. It was hillarious! Restoran Zaman is another place I couldn’t help but be amazed every visit. Not only the customers are plenty, but they seem to come from everywhere; TUDM, tourists on the road, and the nearby residents. It makes me feel like I was the one who is a native Kuantan dweller.
Speaking of native Kuantan dwellers, I would say they are a vivacious lots. Not quite as wary as Kelantanese or as proud as KL urbanites, it seems like they are always ready to say something to us everywhere we go. In addition, the way we get to reach to every different nooks and crannies of Kuantan city allows us to befriend different people. We encountered a kind lady during one of Ramadhan nights, at the mosque where we had our tarawih, who is now a landlady to one of my friends. My car was once sent to a workshop located deep in one of the kampungs hidden behind a factory. We even cut a business deal with one of the restaurant owners we used to frequent during our supper excursions. Living in Kuantan to me feels like being in a magical kingdom where we get to go places and meet different people to complete our tasks. Unlike in KL, where we are only students whose life are bound by the surrounding boundaries of our campus, in Kuantan we became its inhabitants, one with the city itself.
Kuantan in a nutshell
In a way, this was how Kuantan shaped us. It slows us down from the usual hurried KL lifestyle. We have no traffic to avoid, no LRT schedules to keep up to. Everything is almost within a 10-minute drive. We could sit with our friends, enjoying each other companies, and simply watch people going about. We could visit a cafe so often the waiters know us and let us be by ourselves how many hours we intended to. Kuantan relieves us of the many aggrandizements we used to crave (shopping spree, Burger King, Hush Puppies) we turn to the comfort of our personal friends to get by the ample time we have in our hands.
We learn to communicate through lengthy conversation, exchanging ideas on our likes and dislikes. We get to know each other better, and we become avid observers of each other’s habits we could spell each one’s with eyes closed. Friendship become important, and materialistic substitutes become, only substitutes.
I would like to relate about the variety of food we have experienced, but that is another story…
Monday, November 5, 2007
Learning to hack life
Recently I realized how ICT (information and communication technology, FYI) had become something quite of a dread to me.
Although having only two email accounts, both of which I use way below its space limits, I have difficulties replying even to the halves of each. In addition, what with the non-repliable emails, notifications, and subscriptions I barely read. I still question the need to have any Friendster or Facebook accounts because I do not see any of my relationships improving because of it. Updating the profile is fun when I have nothing better to do, but I’ve always felt foolish afterwards - confused at what was I trying to show or prove. But I keep my accounts active anyway on account of keeping in touch with people I am afraid to lose contact with, despite our almost non-existent communication in real-life. I will not even write about passing virtual drinks or declaring someone to be my top friends - I mean, seriously?
The phone is my another source of damnation. Sometimes the way people could get into my life easily through instant messages get to me - a short cut to face-to-face, personal communication, which so many of us are happy to avoid. Forwarded messages coming in like advertorial, I was never certain how to respond to it I ended up not replying it. In fact, it has become my policy to reply only messages which are addressed personally to me, other types of message go straight to trash - after a week. There is also the missed-calling practice, which I never understood its imparted meaning. If the ringing doesn’t last to three, I usually ignore it. No, I do not use IMs to catch up on my distant cousins or long lost friends too. I would rather talk and call a visit. Although I was, at some point, hooked up to IM like it was my life line, blatantly pushing my keypad buttons in front of my clueless colleague or loved ones - leaving them talking to the empty void. After learning how rude and insensitive such practice was, I happily throw away my phone every time I am due to spend time with friends or family I had promised to.
So now, I am trying to manage my ICT tools with better efficiency. I scrolled through my contacts list, and realized 75% of it I no longer use (unsuccessful crushes included, shamefully), so I deleted all. I loathe the idea of creating a new email account, so I simply direct my subscription and notifications to one email account, and leave the other for friends and formal businesses. The former account might end up being opened once in a blue moon. As for my Friendster or Facebook account, I shall leave it as it is. My cowardice does not allow me to declare my fight against such social networks, I’m fighting a losing battle.
I am learning to use IM not as cover-ups for my intended insensitivities or reckless mistakes. The time I couldn’t spend with certain friends cannot be paid with a single SMS, the promises I’ve broken couldn’t be patched with a single SMS, and the amount of love and care I would like to shower to my family or friend will not be measured by how many love and kisses I send through IM - so does by my lack of sending it too. For now, I see IMs more as an aid for tangible things, not to satisfy my cloaked neuroticism or behaviour disorder, which I’ve learnt I could so easily get caught up in.
As for blogs, it is still addictive to check out other people’s blogs (aside of my own) every 2 hours. But given my current need to practice writing (I reduced the writing schedule to every 2 days, instead of having to finish the piece every night) - I keep my blog-hopping habit on radar, until the time dictates I put it completely on hold until midnight.
For those who feel afflicted with the same disease as me, for a start, I find a 10 + 2 x 5 tip provided by Merlin Mann of 43 Folders quite useful for day (mid-house chores) practice; set a timer of 10 minutes for a required task, allow 2 minutes for any side-cravings and repeat the process five times, we will get 50 productive minutes out of an hour work - which usually, obviously, is reversed.
Although having only two email accounts, both of which I use way below its space limits, I have difficulties replying even to the halves of each. In addition, what with the non-repliable emails, notifications, and subscriptions I barely read. I still question the need to have any Friendster or Facebook accounts because I do not see any of my relationships improving because of it. Updating the profile is fun when I have nothing better to do, but I’ve always felt foolish afterwards - confused at what was I trying to show or prove. But I keep my accounts active anyway on account of keeping in touch with people I am afraid to lose contact with, despite our almost non-existent communication in real-life. I will not even write about passing virtual drinks or declaring someone to be my top friends - I mean, seriously?
The phone is my another source of damnation. Sometimes the way people could get into my life easily through instant messages get to me - a short cut to face-to-face, personal communication, which so many of us are happy to avoid. Forwarded messages coming in like advertorial, I was never certain how to respond to it I ended up not replying it. In fact, it has become my policy to reply only messages which are addressed personally to me, other types of message go straight to trash - after a week. There is also the missed-calling practice, which I never understood its imparted meaning. If the ringing doesn’t last to three, I usually ignore it. No, I do not use IMs to catch up on my distant cousins or long lost friends too. I would rather talk and call a visit. Although I was, at some point, hooked up to IM like it was my life line, blatantly pushing my keypad buttons in front of my clueless colleague or loved ones - leaving them talking to the empty void. After learning how rude and insensitive such practice was, I happily throw away my phone every time I am due to spend time with friends or family I had promised to.
So now, I am trying to manage my ICT tools with better efficiency. I scrolled through my contacts list, and realized 75% of it I no longer use (unsuccessful crushes included, shamefully), so I deleted all. I loathe the idea of creating a new email account, so I simply direct my subscription and notifications to one email account, and leave the other for friends and formal businesses. The former account might end up being opened once in a blue moon. As for my Friendster or Facebook account, I shall leave it as it is. My cowardice does not allow me to declare my fight against such social networks, I’m fighting a losing battle.
I am learning to use IM not as cover-ups for my intended insensitivities or reckless mistakes. The time I couldn’t spend with certain friends cannot be paid with a single SMS, the promises I’ve broken couldn’t be patched with a single SMS, and the amount of love and care I would like to shower to my family or friend will not be measured by how many love and kisses I send through IM - so does by my lack of sending it too. For now, I see IMs more as an aid for tangible things, not to satisfy my cloaked neuroticism or behaviour disorder, which I’ve learnt I could so easily get caught up in.
As for blogs, it is still addictive to check out other people’s blogs (aside of my own) every 2 hours. But given my current need to practice writing (I reduced the writing schedule to every 2 days, instead of having to finish the piece every night) - I keep my blog-hopping habit on radar, until the time dictates I put it completely on hold until midnight.
For those who feel afflicted with the same disease as me, for a start, I find a 10 + 2 x 5 tip provided by Merlin Mann of 43 Folders quite useful for day (mid-house chores) practice; set a timer of 10 minutes for a required task, allow 2 minutes for any side-cravings and repeat the process five times, we will get 50 productive minutes out of an hour work - which usually, obviously, is reversed.
Sunday, October 14, 2007
Not taking things seriously
After my recent publicized winning trip to Germany caused havoc at the faculty several months ago – I was approached by several juniors asking me to give study tips for their programs. Luckily enough, I always had better things to do; sampling trip, balik kampung, etc. Freaking out of having to face strange faces while on stage is one thing, but what keeps me refusing the invitations was actually not having any tips to begin with.
Aware of my personal experiences on the importance of conformity to social conventions, I realized these invitations were called forth for me to reiterate the criteria appropriate and fitting for successful students; strategic time management, sincere intentions, good relationships with parents, teachers, and friends, and the likes.
Having said that, I realized, apparently not every Dean’s List students are qualified to give motivational talks – me for example. However, not having any ideas to write now – I think it’s time I reveal the strategies my friends and I adopted so far to manage being in the Dean’s Lists every semester until our final year. These strategies evolve as we grow older, and most importantly, wiser.
1. No Social Life, Please
My friends and I are familiar faces during Excellence Award or Dean’s List’s dinner every year. There’s no denying that. We were dubbed skema during our second year for always trotting around with our thick textbooks and serious faces running after one lecturer to another asking question. Not only that, we were also skema because we always wear the standard university attire every day, baju kurung. No trousers, no jeans, no skirts. We had no sense of fashion, or fun.
So that was why when my roommate asked what kept me glued to my desk every night studying, I answered: Because I had nothing else better to do (given my lack of social life). How pathetic is that.
1. Last Minute Study is the Best Policy
What, unbelievable? Cross your finger, I think many students would agree with me on this. Who has the time to concentrate on lectures, and revise again two hours after that when the night before was spent meeting for a program? Wait, that doesn’t apply to me. Who has the time to concentrate on lectures when the night before was spent teary-eyed reading a novel? Or what if I just couldn’t help myself from feeling bored out of my wit with the notes that does not make sense at all from 0 hour of the class? There’s no use concentrating when I know I wouldn’t get anything different if I just read the textbook later on (save for the truly great lecturers who knows how to do their works, of course).
Trust me sometimes life at the university is simply, a life. Forget all those idealism and aspiration of living in intelligentsia world or whatsoever. As much as I was frustrated, sometimes being a student CAN be reduced to mere survival for the next breath in the next day.
1. Know Thy Lecturers
Perhaps this one tip can be considered normal. But again, is normal equal to morally sound? Because here’s how my tip goes – have the same lecturer teaching you from Year 1 to Year 4, and all you need to do to score is to know his exam question patterns. Forget looking for extra information, forget thinking outside the box. All you need is the next time it’s test, you know this lecturer so much you can simply point out which part will come up in the exam and which part will not –because you already know his pattern. Information was cut into fragments, go into your brains selectively regardless of whether the information might be useful or not. All that matter is you can answer the exam questions.
Again, it’s the question of survival. Forget knowledge here.
1. People-Ogling and Caffeine is Good for Your Health
The key to my staying up until 4 a.m. at night finishing my home works? Combine the ultimate booster for students: caffeine, and for girls: cute lads. These days, every time I need to stay up late doing three works alternatively all at once, I would earlier drive to the nearest gas station where I often get my double dose of Nescafe, and where a tall guy with curly hair and cute smile would always greet me.
Enough said.
1. Finally, Stop Being a Perfectionist.
I dreamt of studying history and philosophy with an old, great, knowledgeable professor who would always provoke me to write my best essays and challenge my views – only to find myself in a class where the lecturer would settle with the slide presentation he himself could not understand. I envision myself working with fellow students for causes that matter –to be frowned upon by so many people to whom only power and authority matters. I picture students who can tolerate each other’s differences – but all I received and see is judgments without discussions. All of us are so caught up with telling the world who’s at fault and who’s to blame, we think we’re good enough.
Having all my dreams and ideals crushed, I settle to my study. I forget saving the world, I forget changing the world one thing at a time. All I can do, and I do best is study – get a 3.5 and above GPA’s every semester, so that later when I go out to the world – I would have one thing right to show off to people.
Yes, stop being a perfectionist and taking everything too seriously – what I write here this time is meant for people who can laugh at themselves. Let’s celebrate life and all its splendor… as well as everything that makes you pull your hair out.
Aware of my personal experiences on the importance of conformity to social conventions, I realized these invitations were called forth for me to reiterate the criteria appropriate and fitting for successful students; strategic time management, sincere intentions, good relationships with parents, teachers, and friends, and the likes.
Having said that, I realized, apparently not every Dean’s List students are qualified to give motivational talks – me for example. However, not having any ideas to write now – I think it’s time I reveal the strategies my friends and I adopted so far to manage being in the Dean’s Lists every semester until our final year. These strategies evolve as we grow older, and most importantly, wiser.
1. No Social Life, Please
My friends and I are familiar faces during Excellence Award or Dean’s List’s dinner every year. There’s no denying that. We were dubbed skema during our second year for always trotting around with our thick textbooks and serious faces running after one lecturer to another asking question. Not only that, we were also skema because we always wear the standard university attire every day, baju kurung. No trousers, no jeans, no skirts. We had no sense of fashion, or fun.
So that was why when my roommate asked what kept me glued to my desk every night studying, I answered: Because I had nothing else better to do (given my lack of social life). How pathetic is that.
1. Last Minute Study is the Best Policy
What, unbelievable? Cross your finger, I think many students would agree with me on this. Who has the time to concentrate on lectures, and revise again two hours after that when the night before was spent meeting for a program? Wait, that doesn’t apply to me. Who has the time to concentrate on lectures when the night before was spent teary-eyed reading a novel? Or what if I just couldn’t help myself from feeling bored out of my wit with the notes that does not make sense at all from 0 hour of the class? There’s no use concentrating when I know I wouldn’t get anything different if I just read the textbook later on (save for the truly great lecturers who knows how to do their works, of course).
Trust me sometimes life at the university is simply, a life. Forget all those idealism and aspiration of living in intelligentsia world or whatsoever. As much as I was frustrated, sometimes being a student CAN be reduced to mere survival for the next breath in the next day.
1. Know Thy Lecturers
Perhaps this one tip can be considered normal. But again, is normal equal to morally sound? Because here’s how my tip goes – have the same lecturer teaching you from Year 1 to Year 4, and all you need to do to score is to know his exam question patterns. Forget looking for extra information, forget thinking outside the box. All you need is the next time it’s test, you know this lecturer so much you can simply point out which part will come up in the exam and which part will not –because you already know his pattern. Information was cut into fragments, go into your brains selectively regardless of whether the information might be useful or not. All that matter is you can answer the exam questions.
Again, it’s the question of survival. Forget knowledge here.
1. People-Ogling and Caffeine is Good for Your Health
The key to my staying up until 4 a.m. at night finishing my home works? Combine the ultimate booster for students: caffeine, and for girls: cute lads. These days, every time I need to stay up late doing three works alternatively all at once, I would earlier drive to the nearest gas station where I often get my double dose of Nescafe, and where a tall guy with curly hair and cute smile would always greet me.
Enough said.
1. Finally, Stop Being a Perfectionist.
I dreamt of studying history and philosophy with an old, great, knowledgeable professor who would always provoke me to write my best essays and challenge my views – only to find myself in a class where the lecturer would settle with the slide presentation he himself could not understand. I envision myself working with fellow students for causes that matter –to be frowned upon by so many people to whom only power and authority matters. I picture students who can tolerate each other’s differences – but all I received and see is judgments without discussions. All of us are so caught up with telling the world who’s at fault and who’s to blame, we think we’re good enough.
Having all my dreams and ideals crushed, I settle to my study. I forget saving the world, I forget changing the world one thing at a time. All I can do, and I do best is study – get a 3.5 and above GPA’s every semester, so that later when I go out to the world – I would have one thing right to show off to people.
Yes, stop being a perfectionist and taking everything too seriously – what I write here this time is meant for people who can laugh at themselves. Let’s celebrate life and all its splendor… as well as everything that makes you pull your hair out.
Friday, September 28, 2007
OMG! He's getting married
A friend of mine recently got engaged, at 23 years of age – and he’s a guy. A bold move, I would definitely say. Because as I remembered the day he announced his decision to us, his closest circle of friends; I was at a loss for words. I dashed straight to the restroom to collect my breath as soon as I got the chance to go out. I didn’t know which surprised me more, his firm decision or my unexpected reaction to the revelation.
Shamefully, I think it’s the latter.
You see, he is one of a couple of guys I had the opportunity to befriend closely for the past 4 years at college. A long time definitely, but too long I forget the time I began to take him for granted as a friend. Too long, I always have a preconceived idea about him to which I base my decisions and judgments about him – an act simplified for me, but at times are unjust to him.
I remember the early days of my junior years, I was so obsessed with analyzing every guys in the faculty because I was so determined to find at least one gentleman to fit my depiction of a real guy. I grumbled as I see no guys offering to carry the laptop or LCD projector handled willingly by girls in the class. I complained as I watched guys in reality are too boys inside, never stopping to talk about games and anime. Not so much because I was desperate to find a beau, but at the back of my mind I was so driven to prove myself right to counter my disappointing experiences with the men of my family. I was trying to put my heart at rest, to promise myself there will be a lavish green field at the end of the rainbow. There are men whom I can trust to run the world.
So these two guys; about the only males in my batch, became the scale of my measurements. At first, getting to know them was exciting. I was thrilled to apply all those theories I read in the book and to compare their actions to the scenes I had come across in films. One is the ultimate Martian – the alpha male, and another is the guy everyone is always delighted to see. Ultimately, I was trying to put their pictures to my sketch of men. Perhaps these two can be friends, real friends.
However, as the time wears on, I learned all sides of their personality, both pleasing and frustrating. Expectations I can trust be fulfilled, and expectations I know are hopeless to even think about. I no longer tried to bring out the best in my two friends, because at times I admitted to myself it was simply stupid and tiring.
One time my decision was deemed digressing, we had a total clash of worldview. Until today, it was a decision silently understood – we are going on a completely different path. We never spoke about it again. Another time I was scolded coldly for a totally inadvertent mistake, never I gain I dared to get near his prickly receptors. I navigate my ways around it, accommodating wherever I can. It was not about proving who’s right or who should change anymore – we have become a family. We accept each other as we are, but sadly, we expect no more either. We looked through each other as we do a glass, so transparent there are no questions asked anymore. We neither surprises nor disappoint one another, we only get by our lives – day in and day out without trying to understand any longer, because we thought we had enough to understand everything.
For instance, as my alpha friend grows popular after he was elected president, every one at the faculty seems to have discovered a gem. His combination of chivalry and aloofness appeared so irresistible to girls he is being talked about in every room. I had fun observing these, of course. But I also made a cruel remark about him pertaining to the issue, I remember saying coolly his kindness is magnified only because he rarely displays it. As for other people who do these things naturally, similar act of kindness are often go by unnoticed and taken for granted. Perhaps I was right, and I could be wrong too – but I didn’t care to know. Because all that is etched in my mind is his nasty mood and insensitive self.
At the same time, I was growing up too. I had become stronger and more independent; there are things I couldn’t do before I am capable to manage now. I am reaching out farther away. Before I realized it, I was trying to repeat the same cycle I had started before, looking for greener pastures. My friends become a shadow in the background, I forgot the simple fact – their mere presence actually confirms my existence of who I am now.
So as my friend announced his engagement, I was choked with surprise; happiness or sadness I was uncertain. I questioned his action by doubting him, as I would always do based on my database of his demeanors. Afterwards, I tried to understand his decision by sieving through our pictures at being friends together for a nearly 5 years, and I was surprised at how big an influence these two friends are to me. Looking back now, he caused me a suddenly painful realization. He is – as much as I am – a human being, capable of making choices which will make him a better person or not. However, as he has proven it, my friend chose to live for a greater cause, to take up a responsibility which will determine the course of his life at so early age – even too early for me as a girl. Therefore I think I owe him one: my friend, you’re the man.
Shamefully, I think it’s the latter.
You see, he is one of a couple of guys I had the opportunity to befriend closely for the past 4 years at college. A long time definitely, but too long I forget the time I began to take him for granted as a friend. Too long, I always have a preconceived idea about him to which I base my decisions and judgments about him – an act simplified for me, but at times are unjust to him.
I remember the early days of my junior years, I was so obsessed with analyzing every guys in the faculty because I was so determined to find at least one gentleman to fit my depiction of a real guy. I grumbled as I see no guys offering to carry the laptop or LCD projector handled willingly by girls in the class. I complained as I watched guys in reality are too boys inside, never stopping to talk about games and anime. Not so much because I was desperate to find a beau, but at the back of my mind I was so driven to prove myself right to counter my disappointing experiences with the men of my family. I was trying to put my heart at rest, to promise myself there will be a lavish green field at the end of the rainbow. There are men whom I can trust to run the world.
So these two guys; about the only males in my batch, became the scale of my measurements. At first, getting to know them was exciting. I was thrilled to apply all those theories I read in the book and to compare their actions to the scenes I had come across in films. One is the ultimate Martian – the alpha male, and another is the guy everyone is always delighted to see. Ultimately, I was trying to put their pictures to my sketch of men. Perhaps these two can be friends, real friends.
However, as the time wears on, I learned all sides of their personality, both pleasing and frustrating. Expectations I can trust be fulfilled, and expectations I know are hopeless to even think about. I no longer tried to bring out the best in my two friends, because at times I admitted to myself it was simply stupid and tiring.
One time my decision was deemed digressing, we had a total clash of worldview. Until today, it was a decision silently understood – we are going on a completely different path. We never spoke about it again. Another time I was scolded coldly for a totally inadvertent mistake, never I gain I dared to get near his prickly receptors. I navigate my ways around it, accommodating wherever I can. It was not about proving who’s right or who should change anymore – we have become a family. We accept each other as we are, but sadly, we expect no more either. We looked through each other as we do a glass, so transparent there are no questions asked anymore. We neither surprises nor disappoint one another, we only get by our lives – day in and day out without trying to understand any longer, because we thought we had enough to understand everything.
For instance, as my alpha friend grows popular after he was elected president, every one at the faculty seems to have discovered a gem. His combination of chivalry and aloofness appeared so irresistible to girls he is being talked about in every room. I had fun observing these, of course. But I also made a cruel remark about him pertaining to the issue, I remember saying coolly his kindness is magnified only because he rarely displays it. As for other people who do these things naturally, similar act of kindness are often go by unnoticed and taken for granted. Perhaps I was right, and I could be wrong too – but I didn’t care to know. Because all that is etched in my mind is his nasty mood and insensitive self.
At the same time, I was growing up too. I had become stronger and more independent; there are things I couldn’t do before I am capable to manage now. I am reaching out farther away. Before I realized it, I was trying to repeat the same cycle I had started before, looking for greener pastures. My friends become a shadow in the background, I forgot the simple fact – their mere presence actually confirms my existence of who I am now.
So as my friend announced his engagement, I was choked with surprise; happiness or sadness I was uncertain. I questioned his action by doubting him, as I would always do based on my database of his demeanors. Afterwards, I tried to understand his decision by sieving through our pictures at being friends together for a nearly 5 years, and I was surprised at how big an influence these two friends are to me. Looking back now, he caused me a suddenly painful realization. He is – as much as I am – a human being, capable of making choices which will make him a better person or not. However, as he has proven it, my friend chose to live for a greater cause, to take up a responsibility which will determine the course of his life at so early age – even too early for me as a girl. Therefore I think I owe him one: my friend, you’re the man.
Friday, August 24, 2007
Learning differences
A young Malaysian went from being severely confused to relaxed and happy.
I STOOD in a corner, watching my friends excitedly prying open one durian after another. One friend turned to me and said, “Wouldn’t you like to try one?”
Another friend smiled and retorted, “She’s Melayu celup, she doesn’t eat durian and she wants to marry a British.” I laughed at his comment, but I still gave the durian a pass.
In a way, my friend was right. I adore Jude Law. But I don’t know the latest local chart-topping songs and artistes.
I am uncertain whether my ignorance is because I love to daydream, or stems from a sheltered childhood spent in religious boarding schools.
Unlike my peers in national schools, I did not sing Negaraku every morning. It was perhaps because I was studying in a not-so-pro-government school or because, as implied by my teachers, singing was not considered religious.
I was never a part of the country’s excitement in celebrating National Day; we’d be attending classes. It is just one of the many things that most Malaysian youngsters enjoy that I realised I had missed growing up; like befriending people of different races and religions.
I was a rebellious teenager – quiet but rebellious. In a way, I think it was my response to the limitations inflicted upon me at religious school, where male and female students were segregated, televisions and radios not provided, and no contact with other schools established.
So I “made friends” with books and magazines; I subscribed to youth magazines, highlighting every word I found inspiring and kept them on my desks. I bought books every time I returned home. I built a world I could escape to. Through time, the books slowly shaped the way I thought and viewed the world. They had me thinking and constantly questioning what I had learned and thought was correct.
For instance, we were taught the importance of applying best religious practices, such as donning jubah and tudung labuh for girls. Some students who left the school later opted to wear baju kurung, seluar, or tudung tiga segi, and were frowned upon.
It was puzzling to me how simply being different could warrant such disapproval when I was also taught that my religion encourages love and tolerance not only among Muslims but towards non-Muslims, too.
In addition, my teacher always pointed out how students are susceptible to temptations in the dangerous world out there. At some point, I almost believed that it was safer to stay put in my school, being friends with people of similar views and beliefs.
I left school and entered a matriculation centre. I realised then how severely confused I was. People moved in cliques on campus. But I was alone. I tried to find people similar to me in appearance and thinking, only to receive hushed questions about which political side my parents were supporting.
Above all, I was astounded to receive warm greetings and friendship from colleagues – men and women – who were totally unlike me.
As I went through university, I found out instead how similar I was to other youths, regardless of our upbringing, religion, and race. As I read books, watched films and got to know different people, I was amazed to discover so many great things about others.
I have also been able to experience other aspects of being a Malaysian. I remember being awashed with pride and sadness as I sang Negaraku aloud during orientation.
During my third year, my friends and I stayed up late to watch fireworks on the eve of National Day. I remember being moved to tears as my Chinese friend warmly said, “Bless you!” when I sneezed.
I have also begun to know my country and its people better during my trips to the campus in Pahang, and to my mother’s hometown in Johor.
As one of my close friends observed, it is peculiar and unusual to hear Linkin Park’s Meteroa blaring away in a car driven by a girl in a tudung labuh.
I have gone from being timid and serious, to relaxed and happy. I smile and talk to strangers, joke with friends and am delighted to see Daniel Radcliffe’s picture in the newspaper.
I still have a long way to go but people who were strangers once are now close friends.
I believe God can reveal Himself in any way He desires. I believe He wants us to find Him through ways we are happy and comfortable with. I believe in the universal truth: everything begins as a good thing.
I believe I can learn and see God in every possible moment – the trickle of spring water, the smile of a Christian friend, the embrace of a sun bear. I believe kindness is to be shared with everyone – my parents, my friends, and kids across the world. I believe that is the kind of world God wants us to create.
I think being a Malaysian is about all of us looking after one another, not simply because we are of similar race, religion, or living in the same country, but because it is the best we can do in being human. As Morrie Schwartz in Mitch Albom’s Tuesdays with Morrie says, “Love each other, or die.”
Nurhidayati, 22, is a final year environmental biotechnology student in the International Islamic University in Kuantan.
I STOOD in a corner, watching my friends excitedly prying open one durian after another. One friend turned to me and said, “Wouldn’t you like to try one?”
Another friend smiled and retorted, “She’s Melayu celup, she doesn’t eat durian and she wants to marry a British.” I laughed at his comment, but I still gave the durian a pass.
In a way, my friend was right. I adore Jude Law. But I don’t know the latest local chart-topping songs and artistes.
I am uncertain whether my ignorance is because I love to daydream, or stems from a sheltered childhood spent in religious boarding schools.
Unlike my peers in national schools, I did not sing Negaraku every morning. It was perhaps because I was studying in a not-so-pro-government school or because, as implied by my teachers, singing was not considered religious.
I was never a part of the country’s excitement in celebrating National Day; we’d be attending classes. It is just one of the many things that most Malaysian youngsters enjoy that I realised I had missed growing up; like befriending people of different races and religions.
I was a rebellious teenager – quiet but rebellious. In a way, I think it was my response to the limitations inflicted upon me at religious school, where male and female students were segregated, televisions and radios not provided, and no contact with other schools established.
So I “made friends” with books and magazines; I subscribed to youth magazines, highlighting every word I found inspiring and kept them on my desks. I bought books every time I returned home. I built a world I could escape to. Through time, the books slowly shaped the way I thought and viewed the world. They had me thinking and constantly questioning what I had learned and thought was correct.
For instance, we were taught the importance of applying best religious practices, such as donning jubah and tudung labuh for girls. Some students who left the school later opted to wear baju kurung, seluar, or tudung tiga segi, and were frowned upon.
It was puzzling to me how simply being different could warrant such disapproval when I was also taught that my religion encourages love and tolerance not only among Muslims but towards non-Muslims, too.
In addition, my teacher always pointed out how students are susceptible to temptations in the dangerous world out there. At some point, I almost believed that it was safer to stay put in my school, being friends with people of similar views and beliefs.
I left school and entered a matriculation centre. I realised then how severely confused I was. People moved in cliques on campus. But I was alone. I tried to find people similar to me in appearance and thinking, only to receive hushed questions about which political side my parents were supporting.
Above all, I was astounded to receive warm greetings and friendship from colleagues – men and women – who were totally unlike me.
As I went through university, I found out instead how similar I was to other youths, regardless of our upbringing, religion, and race. As I read books, watched films and got to know different people, I was amazed to discover so many great things about others.
I have also been able to experience other aspects of being a Malaysian. I remember being awashed with pride and sadness as I sang Negaraku aloud during orientation.
During my third year, my friends and I stayed up late to watch fireworks on the eve of National Day. I remember being moved to tears as my Chinese friend warmly said, “Bless you!” when I sneezed.
I have also begun to know my country and its people better during my trips to the campus in Pahang, and to my mother’s hometown in Johor.
As one of my close friends observed, it is peculiar and unusual to hear Linkin Park’s Meteroa blaring away in a car driven by a girl in a tudung labuh.
I have gone from being timid and serious, to relaxed and happy. I smile and talk to strangers, joke with friends and am delighted to see Daniel Radcliffe’s picture in the newspaper.
I still have a long way to go but people who were strangers once are now close friends.
I believe God can reveal Himself in any way He desires. I believe He wants us to find Him through ways we are happy and comfortable with. I believe in the universal truth: everything begins as a good thing.
I believe I can learn and see God in every possible moment – the trickle of spring water, the smile of a Christian friend, the embrace of a sun bear. I believe kindness is to be shared with everyone – my parents, my friends, and kids across the world. I believe that is the kind of world God wants us to create.
I think being a Malaysian is about all of us looking after one another, not simply because we are of similar race, religion, or living in the same country, but because it is the best we can do in being human. As Morrie Schwartz in Mitch Albom’s Tuesdays with Morrie says, “Love each other, or die.”
Nurhidayati, 22, is a final year environmental biotechnology student in the International Islamic University in Kuantan.
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