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?
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
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.
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Foibles and follies of life
Failing of character, I mused to myself as I was standing in the kitchen, stirring my cup of coffee. My sleep nowadays are filled with long tiring dreams. I wouldn’t call it nightmares, necessarily, but the dreams are intricate nonetheless. I am a believer of how dreams reflects our states of mind, but these days I find it too tiresome to bother.
I wonder, if I write stories based collectively on my dreams. How apt.
As I walked through the hallway, stopping at the large window, I looked out to the street. The street which is never silence. I smiled at the thought of calling the soil my home, not now, not for long.
I suppose the types of people in life are either who makes anywhere a place their call home, or who hardly consider any place close to being home, even their own home. I fall to the latter type, the fearer of emotional claims. A close acquaintance said I ought to be a politician for it. I laughed.
The dishes on the table has already been reduced to sheer scrapes on the plate, I chuckled as I remembered the looks on my brothers’ face as they devoured their lunch; burning hot. I am not a fan of chillies myself, but alas, one tends to underrate oneself.
I winced, a sudden tang of pain shot right through me at remembering the nearness of someone close, at yearning of another comfort company.
It’s certainly difficult to see why a certain somebodies who enjoys the presence of each other can still choose to be happy far apart. Life has a way of expecting different things from us, within minutes we no longer see eye to eye on things once cherished together.
I suppose the difficulty lies there, at how we no can no longer include the person, once in every part of our lives, in decisions we are making for the future. It can easily be overcame, of course, but who on earth today like to talk about these things? People move on, they look forward now.
The cackling laughter of my 2-year old niece suddenly broke the silence of hot afternoon, I walked to the door with a smile I couldn’t usually pull off when I’m around adults and put the thought away at the back of my mind.
Hot weekends like this, who needs gloomy thoughts?
I wonder, if I write stories based collectively on my dreams. How apt.
As I walked through the hallway, stopping at the large window, I looked out to the street. The street which is never silence. I smiled at the thought of calling the soil my home, not now, not for long.
I suppose the types of people in life are either who makes anywhere a place their call home, or who hardly consider any place close to being home, even their own home. I fall to the latter type, the fearer of emotional claims. A close acquaintance said I ought to be a politician for it. I laughed.
The dishes on the table has already been reduced to sheer scrapes on the plate, I chuckled as I remembered the looks on my brothers’ face as they devoured their lunch; burning hot. I am not a fan of chillies myself, but alas, one tends to underrate oneself.
I winced, a sudden tang of pain shot right through me at remembering the nearness of someone close, at yearning of another comfort company.
It’s certainly difficult to see why a certain somebodies who enjoys the presence of each other can still choose to be happy far apart. Life has a way of expecting different things from us, within minutes we no longer see eye to eye on things once cherished together.
I suppose the difficulty lies there, at how we no can no longer include the person, once in every part of our lives, in decisions we are making for the future. It can easily be overcame, of course, but who on earth today like to talk about these things? People move on, they look forward now.
The cackling laughter of my 2-year old niece suddenly broke the silence of hot afternoon, I walked to the door with a smile I couldn’t usually pull off when I’m around adults and put the thought away at the back of my mind.
Hot weekends like this, who needs gloomy thoughts?
Monday, February 18, 2008
Why change is scary
Because it’s telling us why it matters.
I used to be a spoiled and doted daughter whom everything is taken care of. Once when I was 7 years old, I cried and kicked the bedroom window because my brother didn’t want to help me with my school homework. I suffered two inches scar on my left foot and enjoyed two months breaks from school. My habits continued until after high school where I was incapable of doing things on my own without the presence of my parents.
All it takes to change me was the news of my dad’s second marriage.
Perhaps my example is too harsh, but forceful or voluntary, changes in our lives are inevitable. Whether it is decided out of our self-introspection or due to life major events, change will always comes knocking at our door.
Deciding to change
Andrew Matthews, the author of Happiness Now puts a funny metaphor to life where we tend to be comfortable with the way things are around us even when it’s not good. It’s like getting into an initially smelly bathroom and after a while sitting in it, we ask, what smell?
Which is why it is important for us to change while we are still aware of things that bother us.
Dreaming of studying that one course? Find a way to do it! Having been in a negative relationship for far too long? Leave it! As for my case, I had asked myself four years ago, do I still want to count on dad when he might have another daughters and sons he cares about? No, I’ve got to take care of myself now!
Change is bold, change is daring, change is adventurous. To change means to put a break to our moving lives, to stop and think about it, and finally to change the course of our direction.
Hardly easy, right?
But it’s how it is. However, I assure you, once we get around to it, things become easier and easier. Once we accept changes are only a part of life, and we learned how to deal with it, it doesn’t matter if the change is difficult.
Why change is scary
So what makes changes scary? Deriving from personal experiences, I recognize several fears that are holding us back from taking that first step.
Changes come in our life as opportunities, emotional pains, physical trauma. It sends a message to us to re-assess our life, and change our life patterns. To change means to evolve, and to evolve means to progress. In addition, no one is responsible for our personal growth but ourselves.
These fears, as intimidating as they are, are opportunities to build us. The key is to take time to learn about it, face it head on and use it to our advantage.
Remember what Tsun Zu said, keep our friends close and keep our enemies closer.
I used to be a spoiled and doted daughter whom everything is taken care of. Once when I was 7 years old, I cried and kicked the bedroom window because my brother didn’t want to help me with my school homework. I suffered two inches scar on my left foot and enjoyed two months breaks from school. My habits continued until after high school where I was incapable of doing things on my own without the presence of my parents.
All it takes to change me was the news of my dad’s second marriage.
Perhaps my example is too harsh, but forceful or voluntary, changes in our lives are inevitable. Whether it is decided out of our self-introspection or due to life major events, change will always comes knocking at our door.
Deciding to change
Andrew Matthews, the author of Happiness Now puts a funny metaphor to life where we tend to be comfortable with the way things are around us even when it’s not good. It’s like getting into an initially smelly bathroom and after a while sitting in it, we ask, what smell?
Which is why it is important for us to change while we are still aware of things that bother us.
Dreaming of studying that one course? Find a way to do it! Having been in a negative relationship for far too long? Leave it! As for my case, I had asked myself four years ago, do I still want to count on dad when he might have another daughters and sons he cares about? No, I’ve got to take care of myself now!
Change is bold, change is daring, change is adventurous. To change means to put a break to our moving lives, to stop and think about it, and finally to change the course of our direction.
Hardly easy, right?
But it’s how it is. However, I assure you, once we get around to it, things become easier and easier. Once we accept changes are only a part of life, and we learned how to deal with it, it doesn’t matter if the change is difficult.
Why change is scary
So what makes changes scary? Deriving from personal experiences, I recognize several fears that are holding us back from taking that first step.
- We’re afraid of our own potential.
- We’re afraid of failure and disappointment.
- We need other people’s approval.
Changes come in our life as opportunities, emotional pains, physical trauma. It sends a message to us to re-assess our life, and change our life patterns. To change means to evolve, and to evolve means to progress. In addition, no one is responsible for our personal growth but ourselves.
These fears, as intimidating as they are, are opportunities to build us. The key is to take time to learn about it, face it head on and use it to our advantage.
Remember what Tsun Zu said, keep our friends close and keep our enemies closer.
Monday, February 11, 2008
A certain sweet experience
I hadn’t look forward for the trip home, dreading the 8 hours journey through the suburb areas of the east coast.
It wasn’t the scenery I loathed, for I had ardently enjoyed my trip going back and forth through the states before - I was driving on my own, singing out loud to the maximum volume of the radio station and cussing freely without offending anybody to whom I intended for.
It was the cruel incumbent requirement of sitting still on my number 1A seat, right behind the bus driver, the limitation of not being able to speak out loud to my desired judgment, and the restriction on my singing needs - despite my actual ability (or, inability) to sing.
Rather pessimistic, I vowed to myself not to have any expectation for the journey - I shall be content with the passing of time until I finally reach home.
Until he climbed aboard and sat beside me.
I was working on my sudoku puzzle, with the TIME magazine on my lap - two actions which I know would immediately drive any man my age away. Learning from my personal experience and close observation of my community members, I realize that seriousness and maturity is not very popular in the romance industry - which, believe me my readers, I am one expert at.
Stealing a quick glance to my left, I made a full first impression of his physical appearance - striped t-shirt, jeans, a pair of boots, and a backpack. I scrolled down through my interpretations - already working, slightly settled with himself, but not confident enough with how his life’s heading so far.
He picked up his phone, and talking rather sweetly to the caller - taken, I decided. I smiled to myself, returning to the singing of Michael Buble in my head. I could easily ask his destination, and his name and what he’s doing. Because despite my introvert nature, I approach stranger rather easily as I willed. But given my recent miscalculated events with not one but three guys, I pushed away the thought of even trying.
(Now, I am NOT going to write about my one pathological need of making a version of my perfect guy out of every man I met)
So passed half of our journey with me from time to time leafing through the magazine, working on my puzzle (I managed to finish two sets), and singing casually to my phone. I walked pass him with difficulty as I was rushing to the restroom and him still sitting rather sleepily on his seat, and we had exchanged a quick stare while buying drinks in the restaurant, obviously checking out on each other.
Why, you cannot deny nature - opposites do attracts. Man and woman - the ultimate yin and yang.
So on the next half of our journey, he began our introduction by offering me his set of sweets - which unfortunately I am not a fan of. But I had returned his kindness with simple questions - of his destination, his job, and the place where he studied. A quiet guy, and definitely not a sweet-talker - but suited enough for my casual interest. He made a comment on my lack of east coast accent, and I had happily explained the twist of my nationality and birth place. Talking and talking, rather relaxed and unfazed, we laughed, and receded back to our silent self to enjoy the rest of the journey.
Carefully, we managed to avoid the dangerous waters.
He had to part at the earlier destination, and both of us sighed with relief at the obligatory separation - as if there was a silent pact between us, we are not going to tread the unthinkable. So, as he jokingly invited me to join him and I declined his offer with a laugh - we said our goodbyes.
We did not exchanged names, more so our phone numbers.
Reaching home, I stepped out of the bus with a smile on my face, triumphantly rejoicing the success of avoiding the temptation to create another chapter of disaster in my life.
This one, this story, this journey - is going to be the sweet filler.
It was the cruel incumbent requirement of sitting still on my number 1A seat, right behind the bus driver, the limitation of not being able to speak out loud to my desired judgment, and the restriction on my singing needs - despite my actual ability (or, inability) to sing.
Rather pessimistic, I vowed to myself not to have any expectation for the journey - I shall be content with the passing of time until I finally reach home.
Until he climbed aboard and sat beside me.
I was working on my sudoku puzzle, with the TIME magazine on my lap - two actions which I know would immediately drive any man my age away. Learning from my personal experience and close observation of my community members, I realize that seriousness and maturity is not very popular in the romance industry - which, believe me my readers, I am one expert at.
Stealing a quick glance to my left, I made a full first impression of his physical appearance - striped t-shirt, jeans, a pair of boots, and a backpack. I scrolled down through my interpretations - already working, slightly settled with himself, but not confident enough with how his life’s heading so far.
He picked up his phone, and talking rather sweetly to the caller - taken, I decided. I smiled to myself, returning to the singing of Michael Buble in my head. I could easily ask his destination, and his name and what he’s doing. Because despite my introvert nature, I approach stranger rather easily as I willed. But given my recent miscalculated events with not one but three guys, I pushed away the thought of even trying.
(Now, I am NOT going to write about my one pathological need of making a version of my perfect guy out of every man I met)
So passed half of our journey with me from time to time leafing through the magazine, working on my puzzle (I managed to finish two sets), and singing casually to my phone. I walked pass him with difficulty as I was rushing to the restroom and him still sitting rather sleepily on his seat, and we had exchanged a quick stare while buying drinks in the restaurant, obviously checking out on each other.
Why, you cannot deny nature - opposites do attracts. Man and woman - the ultimate yin and yang.
So on the next half of our journey, he began our introduction by offering me his set of sweets - which unfortunately I am not a fan of. But I had returned his kindness with simple questions - of his destination, his job, and the place where he studied. A quiet guy, and definitely not a sweet-talker - but suited enough for my casual interest. He made a comment on my lack of east coast accent, and I had happily explained the twist of my nationality and birth place. Talking and talking, rather relaxed and unfazed, we laughed, and receded back to our silent self to enjoy the rest of the journey.
Carefully, we managed to avoid the dangerous waters.
He had to part at the earlier destination, and both of us sighed with relief at the obligatory separation - as if there was a silent pact between us, we are not going to tread the unthinkable. So, as he jokingly invited me to join him and I declined his offer with a laugh - we said our goodbyes.
We did not exchanged names, more so our phone numbers.
Reaching home, I stepped out of the bus with a smile on my face, triumphantly rejoicing the success of avoiding the temptation to create another chapter of disaster in my life.
This one, this story, this journey - is going to be the sweet filler.
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…
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