Ah le silence… je dois me bien reposer avant de partir…
Je ne serais pas la pendant trois mois. Je ecrirais peut-etre des Etats Unis, je ne sais pas…
… Et je reviendrais quand le nouveau vin est pret…
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Ah le silence… je dois me bien reposer avant de partir…
Je ne serais pas la pendant trois mois. Je ecrirais peut-etre des Etats Unis, je ne sais pas…
… Et je reviendrais quand le nouveau vin est pret…
After a recent bad encounter with silent farting in a packed cellar, this thought's been disturbing my mind:
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/england/manchester/7984554.stm
Look what I've found:
Come monday, the first thing I will do is to buy a pair of ski boots before the sports shops change their shelves. It's SICK, wearing a pair of soggy boots that you know isn't because of your sweat…
One find love and betrayal at any age.
At 20, you're too young and inexperienced to be employed.
At 30, you're too old for your first job.
At 40, you get what they call a "mid-life crisis".
At 50, you are the first to go during a recession.
At 60, you might as well retire.
So it really doesn't matter how old you are - there's no difference!
Oh, there's lots to do next. LOTS, I tell you. Needless to say, life moves on. I finally see the end in sight for this terribly long first-year report. And then there's french, and there are the belly dancing classes, will check out the gym as long as the winter lasts. More time with friends and new friends. More skiing, more outings around the Lémanic region and the countries surrounding, cities I've promised myself to visit, including Lyon, Milan, Cremona… I want to go back to the Bodensee. I want to visit Jordan, Petra, the Dead Sea. And of course, I need to work towards my dream job… an international career.
Alors, cette année, je vais aller à deux conférences. Une en Irlande et une ici à Lausanne. Il n'est pas possible pour attender la troisième, à Hamburg, parce que je vais déménager… non, pas vraiment déménager, je vais travailler aux États-Unis! C'est une bonne chance, et je dois profiter de l'occasion pour visiter les États-Unis. Il sera mon première fois d'y aller. Je vais travailler dans un laboratoire d'un scientifique très connu, pour trois mois, à Harvard. Il était un rêve et maintenant, je suis réveillée, je vais le vivre! Le cours de français va commencer ce vendredi. Regarde toi - je peux déja écrire un paragraphe, et il était seulement une année!
Two months of short-lived happiness, two months of heartache, two months of indifference and longing for an end.
Men. When you don't want them, they come to you; when you want them, they leave you.
It will be another test for me, to hang on for the next one and a half months before freedom. I always end up with men who leave me. It's time to start with a clean slate.
A whole week with students. What nostalgia! It is almost like teaching a bunch of ourselves three years ago! I'm so tired. I'll go skiing tomorrow.
Still have yet to find the time to make that truffle honey… it's been sitting around for almost two months now.
Sometimes, love is not a good enough reason for two people to stay together. Well, in our case, love is the reason why two people should not stay together. Or should I say, the absence of 'love'. I am glad I am pulling my emotions out of the game. Am I being too dreamy when I say I will finally find 'the one'? Does 'the one' actually exist?
I was so pissed today because I lost my scarf. A cashmere scarf, but not just that - it was given to me by my dad. He might not remember giving it to me, but it was a very warm scarf that meant A LOT to me. I cannot believe why someone would want to steal it - in a photography museum! That is simply uncultured! What did I do to deserve this?
Does it pay to be good?
Too complicated?
I am so afraid. I actually dread tonight, I dread the next few weeks, I dread the coming months. I hate, simply detest having tears.
Our ideas today differ so much from what they were yesterday. They are shaped by events that have occurred along the way. When judging a certain person, we should put ourselves not only in their shoes, but also in a suitable context.
If the tendency towards excitement, novelty and risk-taking is associated with risk of promiscuity, and if the same factors are associated with type of career, then isn't there a relationship between personality type and risk of promiscuity?
And so, she realised, that what she really wanted was neither fame nor fortune, but to do what she wants, to have the freedom to choose, and above all to be loved.
Peeking at the fireworks of the fete de Geneve from behind the spectator seats, between bars and picket fences. It reminds me again of where I stand in society.
Should we be honest & true to our feelings in our way of action, or should we choose to consider "the big picture"?
As children, why are we expected to return? Why do we have to live according to standards imposed by others upon ourselves?
Is there necessity in emotional attachments? Is there necessity in building relationships? Are relationships not the result of two intertwined selfish ideas?
I like the look people show on their faces when I introduce myself as a scientist - especially at a bar, or at a party. Cool! They say, and then start drifting away… Yes, really, it is cool, like some Dan Brown novel, or even Michael Crichton. But today I finally realised the implications of the term 'occupational hazard'.
Chlamydia psittaci - Hazard group 3 organism:
http://www.walkersafetycabinets.co.uk/hazard.htm
http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/books/bv.fcgi?highlight=chlamydia%20psittaci&rid=mmed.section.2166#2170
Will need a serology test - hope it was just a cold.
I am almost certain that I have two personalities, two very extreme personalities, and I didn't remember the existence of the party-going, rock music-loving me until last saturday. Like two sides of a coin, but one cannot exist without the other. It takes little amount of mastery to learn switching between the two and use them for different situations. But it would be even better perhaps if I could tap into the advantages of each any time I see the need.
Interesting discussion about religion over lunch. So apparently in Germany and Austria if you declared yourself as Roman Catholic or Protestant you'd have to pay a certain percentage of your income each month to the church. And if you weren't working, you'd still have to pay, if you declared your religion as such. This is obligatory, and only if you left the church would you be free from church tax. But why? Shouldn't these things be voluntary? I mean of course these funds wouldn't be channelled into just the upkeep of the church, but also other useful activities and programmes (apparently churches receive 70% of church tax). But it sounds to me like extortion in the name of religion. And shouldn't church and state be two separate entities?
"…particularly in Europe, is the tax some national governments impose on income on behalf of the state church. Austria, Germany, the Nordic countries and Switzerland all have such a church tax, though in the chart it is included only in the cases of Denmark and Switzerland. One may ask whether the church tax really is a ‘tax’ as defined by international organisations: a compulsory, unrequited payment to general government."
http://www.oecdobserver.org/news/fullstory.php/aid/77/The_income_taxes_people_really_pay.html
"The church tax is only paid by members of the respective church. People who are not member of a church tax-collecting denomination do not have to pay it. Members of a religious community under public law may formally declare their wish to leave the community to state (not religious) authorities. With such a declaration, the obligation to pay church taxes ends. Some communities refuse to administer marriages and burials of (former) members who had declared to leave it."
I am so tired I don't feel like writing. Don't feel like structuring my sentences, don't feel like putting my thoughts into words. I only want to do the bare minimum, to heed what needs doing for the now and then. At 23 one feels the coming of age in London where everyone else is working and having an income. And then one feels the responsibilities. "But hey, wait a minute," I'd exclaim to myself, "you're only 23, how much can you do with what you earn? There's a limit!" So it has to stop at some point. And it will stop here.
One does not settle down overnight. There is first the literal occupying of a new apartment, followed then by the tackling of bureaucracy, making the dwelling homely enough, getting accustomed to the food, culture, language, making some new friends… And then comes the honing of the spirit such that the heart does not buckle under external pressure, such that the virtues that were acquired and practised but waveringly sustained are not altogether lost to a whole different environment. This is my second understanding of "The heart does not follow the environment", a motto that I always preach when under pressure from work. In short, there still needs to be self-restrain in my actions, and a need to address the restlessness in my thoughts.
There is something missing in my life now. It is that of intellectual conversation that I always had while in London. And time and attention generously given to me by good friends always willing to understand. It is not so much that I cannot adapt here, in fact this bunch of international people are really fun to be with. But take Friday for instance, there were the 'ooohs and aaahs' of teasing. Perhaps I am just not used to it after all this time, but surely it isn't that difficult to launch into intellectual conversation rather than place this much emphasis on who's interested in who? Oddly enough I feel like a baby - 23 and at least 2 years younger than my peers. Perhaps there is more to it than meets the eye of their apparent superficiality?
Over summer this year in Singapore, I cleared out my room so it could be let out. After all, who knows when I am going back next, and it surely wouldn't be longer than 2 weeks, less to say return to Singapore for good after four years. Well, that is another debate altogether. Let's focus on this: I was clearing my room and organising my things to those which can be donated, reused, recycled.
In London, there were recycling bins just round the corner from our new apartment. It was easy - you just had to sort out your trash, take it round to the bins and someone would clear it. No superhuman effort, I would say. It is the same here in Switzerland. When I was back in Singapore last year (2006), I was happy to find recycling bins in front of every house in my estate and my dad's housing estate. But this met with a lot of criticism, at least from my parents. My Dad said, gesturing to the row of rubbish bins and recycling bins, 'Are we parading rubbish bins here?'. This year, the recycling bin at home was practically non-existent. It was brought indoors and left standing at a remote corner of our garden. 'They dont' bother coming round anymore, you have to call them,' Mom said in defence when I questioned. So it seems no one uses it at all, so much such that the government gave up. It took a superhuman effort for me just to get a phone number to call for this recycling bin to be emptied, filled with old notes from Junior College. No one knew where I could recycle old clothes and my desktop that has been left cold for 4 years - well, no one except Jacq who's obviously very much involved in the environment circle in Singapore.
I watched in despair as plastic bottles, aluminium cans and paper boxes are thrown carelessly into the rubbish bin. After a year in Qugee fervently recycling, this was most disappointing. Mom even went so far as to say 'I don't care about recycling ok, no one does!' Which met my disapproving remarks obviously. You start to wonder if this is representative of a generation responsible for causing the escalation of the climate problem, the distinctive shrugging off of shoulders, refuting all responsibility. Worse still, a leading politician openly expressed frustration over the problem, claiming there was nothing to be done unless we gave up our current (materialistic) way of life. This was mirrored in my cousins' comments concerning the problem. Singapore is too small to do anything, they say, our efforts will not have any impact. Yet again brushing matters aside. What then is our political significance in South East Asia? I was disappointed about the sheer ignorance and materialism amongst those in my generation. Is life all about pretty clothes, computer games, big cars, expensive gifts and boy-girl relationships? Shouldn't we think about the life of next generations to come? 我ä¸ç¦å“€å£° 广°”!
We met again after a long year at Juliette's house. There were eight of us at the little Apero: Juliette, Paula, Georgia, Muria, Rossella, her sister Georgiella (?), Pietro and I. And of course we talked about me, about London, about my past one year in London. So what is it about the UK in general that the Swiss find odd?
(1) Teenage girls (and even girls my age) wearing strapless tops and short skirts (without stockings) in the middle of winter, lamenting about the cold. Like WHY do you think it is cold?!
(2) How people go to the pub and get so 'pissed drunk' that you can't even communicate with them. And then they approach senseless topics so much such that you find you're the only one not talking about senseless stuff, which actually makes you feel stupid. And why? Because you're probably still sober and conscious.
(3) So you realise the next day at work that you don't actually know anything about the person you've been talking to the whole night before. It's as if he/she is a completely different person!
(4) And perhaps that's why people in London come to have two completely different personalities, one when they are sober and the other when they are at the pub. Now this addresses the point about a friend I knew from my last lab. Sad, really. Serious and obviously very well-informed about sociology by day, but turn night, he becomes chauvinistic and completely flirty.
(5) Which brings me to this last point about drinking. That people actually feel proud of getting 'pissed drunk'! For example, you might hear them boasting about themselves throwing up all over the pavement and collapsing on the side of the road such that the police have to ensure their friends get them home safely. Shame, shame.
Coming from the UK, I'm amazed and I'm impressed that the Swiss actually know the meaning of drinking in moderation. Meaning you don't lose yourself, that you retain at least a bit of dignity, that you open yourself up but still be reserved. Now when I say that drinking is a form of suffering because you lose consciousness, at least people understand.
I'm glad, I really am! I couldn't be working in a more international environment than this, and I really am beginning to enjoy talking not just during lunch breaks but also at Aperos, when people are sober enough to conduct conversation. Mmmm…
Btw, I've actually found a friend who shares the same interest in piano and classical music! Finally someone who I can talk to like I talk to Princess…
There it goes again. The last time there were what… 5-7 of us? We had close to 10 viewings and several nightmares. But it was really not that much of trouble for me as I was coped up with lab work.
Yesterday, I got as far as calling a lady and tried conversing in German with her only to know that the apartment is "schon vorbei" = already past, taken. YES, I thought, punching my fists in the air, at least that was ONE! I wasn't that lucky with the second lady, but I could at least understand "Je ne comprehend pas, Madame" = I can't understand you, Maam, in a very sympathetic tone. Well, I did manage to get help with arranging a viewing. But boy, the kitchen was dirty, there weren't any lights at all in the room, and worse, you could see dark patches on the wallpaper even in the dark. I made a polite gesture to tell her I'll call if interested.
I needed to move fast, and I still need to. Just went to view an apartment today, perfect location near the main train station (ideal for travelling), comfortable size, great landlord, window in the kitchen, but you'll still make the entire room smell if you were deep frying calamari. CLEAN. That's important. Well, I'm really the sort who loves cooking and hosting some friends once in a while. But you all know how a chinese kitchen can be. Oily, gritty etc etc. And I'm not willing to give up entirely on asian cuisine. One could say that there're other dishes you could cook that doesn't require much oil. I would like to have an oven too, and there isn't one, there isn't even space for one. There're only two electric hobs. So what now? Everything's perfect with this apartment except for the kitchen. Should I take it?
Unfortunately, that's not for me to decide. Assuming one rules out all housing agencies that require you to have a guarantor, there's still the problem with my contract that is renewed every year. So that means more trouble. And instead of deciding on the spot and signing a contract right away, housing agencies here love to take their time. They allow a month for viewings, and then decide at the end of the month who gets the flat. Pretty much like a bid. You'd sigh. So what happens now then? I should perhaps view flats non-stop then. Well, to start with, I've got two tomorrow. Let's see if it's possible to squeeze in another two the day after tomorrow. At least I'm going to take a break on Thursday evening at 8:30 for Rachmaninov with the Orchestre de la Suisse Romande.
Everyone in the lab tells me their version of the nightmare. Am I prepared for this? Well, I do'nt know how far my patience can take me, but I definitely will have to make do with it.
Bags are packed - I've managed to pack most of my summer clothes for next year. Time flies - I haven't completed the checklist. Switzerland beckons - it's time to plan my settling down there. Everyone asks if I will be back next year. When I say 'I don't know', I certainly mean I don't know. I've emptied out half my room now, including the old desktop that won't boot (Salvation army's going to come down on the 24th). I've kept most of my memorabilia in the plastic box under my desk. No clothes hang in my wardrobe, unlike those past four years.
Somehow I feel I'm moving out - for good. For various reasons, I have a feeling I may not come back to this house again. It is my way of saying 'my absence is not temporary anymore.' Why? I have probably passed a checkpoint, that which allows people like us to return home after graduation. The fact that I stayed on means I am not returning home in the near future. And certainly, apart from my family, there really is no point in me staying here. I am, indeed, officially moving out.
I think I need another break. I thought I was going to find time for that these few weeks in Singapore. But no, it seems that my life at home is full of expectations and obligations, these which suppress me, suppress my personality. I am lamenting again. I replied Georgie's message today, in which I said in jest that I do not feel Xiao-ish at all. No, that was not in jest, I was serious. I am not joking when I say that I do indeed feel like I'm living in China centuries ago, a merchant's eldest daughter, well-trained to be the woman of a family, coming of age and ready to be wed. What is first exchanged during conversations about me is a list of my achievements that in their opinion show my abilithy to take up the role of young mistress (å°‘ 奶 奶). It kills the soul. I yearn to be back where freedom is, and freedom is not less than a week away…
我è¦åä¼ ç»Ÿ, 但没力气å, æˆ‘çš„æ€§æ ¼æ ¹æœ¬å°±ä¸å¤Ÿåˆšçƒˆ!
所以æ‰é€ƒé¿, 所以æ‰é»˜é»˜çš„å¿ç€…
I am still on the book 'King Leopold's Ghost' by Adam Hochschild. It's taking a little too long for me to finish this. Came across a short excerpt that is so apt today with regards to the situation in Burma:
'The white men who passed through the territory as military officers, steamboat captains, or state or concession company officials generally accepted the use of the chicotte as unthinkingly as hundreds of thousands of other men in uniform would accept their assignments, a half-century later, to staff the Nazi and Soviet concentration camps. "Monsters exist," wrote Primo Levi of his experience at Auschwitz. "But they are too few in number to be truly dangerous. More dangerous are… the functionaries ready to believe and to act without asking questions."
…"To tell the truth," said Franz Strangl of the mass killings that took place when he was commandant of the Nazi death camps of Sobibor and Treblinka, "one did become used to it."
In such a regime, one thing that often helps functionaries "become used to it" is a slight, symbolic distance - irrelevant to the victim - between an official in charge and the physical act of terror itself. That symbolic distance was frequently cited in self-defense by Nazis put on trial after World War II…'
I may be thought of by some as 'biting the hand that feeds me', but it really saddens me to see a country I so highly revered many years ago supporting such a regime, yet denying, even pretending that they condemn it, painting a pretty picture of their role in the international stage.
Went to see the screening of the international version of Expedition Linne at the Botanic Gardens.
http://www.expeditionlinne.se/
And then had a very artistic evening appreciating the highly acclaimed Lee Ang's Se Jie (Lust, Caution) with Mom. As usual they censored it, which is annoying and quite a shame because the sex scenes are essential for character development.
'Gigi' = Bahasa Indonesia for tooth (or teeth?)
Met Dad & Mr 'Pakkok' (that's what dad calls him, Mr French uncle) for the StocExpo Asia exhibition. (http://www.stocexpoasia.com/home.shtml) Passed off as a consultant, without a name card. Lots of companies showcasing their products, mainly European with a few local ones, all bits and pieces that were to be involved in building a storage tank for volatile liquids and chemicals. At least I have a better idea now what Daddy does, what his project is about and what is really involved in building a storage tank that really isn't just a huge container. Let's see… there's the monitoring systems, the Vapour Recovery systems, Vapour combustion systems, floating roofs, water treatment etc. etc. It was like shopping. A Dutch company dealing with water treatment made a really sexist joke about it being a man's business. That guy reminded me of Bobby. :D
Then went for the dreaded wisdom tooth extraction at Gleneagles. The dentist recommended I snip off the left side of my mouth that was healed over in the 2002 virus infection (the right side having been torn whilst I was enjoying a baguette in Lausanne last year). 'We won't charge you for this, you want or not? Otherwise ah, food will get stuck here and then BACTERIA will grow…' at which point I said 'okay okay, just snip it off'
I now have effectively a paralysed left mouth.
Well, I've mentioned a few posts ago that I was informed I was to be bridesmaid (+ ringbearer) a few hours before my return back to Singapore. I have subsequently half-lamented my plight albeit jokingly to you guys, me and my refusal to believe in all that talk about the holy sanctity of marriage added to my very stubborn views on religion only convinced me that I was far from being the right person for the job.
I have to say, though, now that the whole event is over, that it was indeed enjoyable but tiring. I was once again obsessed with ensuring that everything went according to plan. Gosh, that Obsession, even at such a joyous occasion! So let me recall now how a traditional chinese/catholic wedding should be like…
First, there was a church rehearsal a week before the wedding. I was supposed to be leading the procession into the chapel, but then they rearranged for Glady's sister, Grace, to lead with the Unity Candle (A candle that the couple will light together) since she was going to be back in Singapore just for the wedding. I have quite forgotten what the title of the wedding march was, but it wasn't the cliche one. Maizy, the wedding planner was a very efficient woman indeed, planning the details of the wedding down to the last five minutes! Anyway, everyone gathered in a circle at the end of the church rehearsal to say a prayer, to which I really couldn't bring myself to join, but found too rude to refuse.
Then there were the 'biscuit rounds', a chinese tradition of giving out traditional chinese wedding biscuits (round, red biscuits with lotus seed paste filling Mmm) to close relatives (priority given to families of men of the extended family). Many people have sought to use fruit cakes in recent times, but Gladys chose to do it the traditional way since the fruit cake is now used too often. Never a day of the wedding preparation or the wedding itself passes without mention of me and my potential cheese rounds or timepiece rounds if I ever do marry a Swiss 'fondue maker' or watchmaker. To which, I never fail to chip in a word or two about diamonds on the timepieces hehehe…
There was of course a hen's night, after which the bride-to-be turned up ill the next afternoon for lunch. 29th September was the first day of the wedding celebrations. Ahh, I was very disciplined and arrived at 7am sharp at my cousin's front door, bringing with me 一 副 å¯¹è” (chinese calligraphy) kindly written by Mom to hang outside their door.
" 花 好 月 為 圓, ç´ èˆ‡ 瑟 亦 éœ"
The bride was up early and the makeup artist had already called. After almost two hours of preparation, we (jasmine and I) helped the bride into her gown, battling with the can-can and the neverending train of satin. Later by 10 when the house was teeming with relatives, I saw the biggest congregation of SIA pilots (James is a pilot) in my life, outside the gate, ready for the 'tekan (to beat or hit, but is most commonly used to describe being abused or scolded) session'. The poor things had to brave the heat, facing the many challenges set by the 'sisters' on this side of the gate, just to 'steal the bride', a cantonese tradition that's now widely practised. They even had to eat wasabi bread, drink pure lime juice and even wear adult diapers!
When that was done, we then headed off to church, us (bridesmaids, bride and bride's father) being the last to leave. Then of course was the wedding march, singing hymns, exchanging of vows and prayers that I once again couldn't bring myself to say. After the wedding reception which was more like a photo-taking session, was then the tea ceremony at James' house and then Glady's place. The couple had to go through the ritual of first having a traditional dessert, serving tea to all those older than them in the family (of course men first, parents first) and then being served tea by those younger than them. They were also to receive gifts of jewellery and ang baos (red packets) from seniors, or give ang baos to those younger than them. Totally knackered by the end of the day!
The next day saw me nursing my throat and nose before the dinner. There wasn't enough time to eat and the emcees, performers and the bridal party were pretty much coped up with following a schedule. Instead of the table rounds of 'yum seng!' (gan1 bei1), there were table photos. Good for me because I don't drink. I guess the most interesting event of the night was a discussion with one of the pilots about female pilots.
It certainly wasn't a mundane two days, but if you'd ask me, there's been so much rigorous planning involved in this ceremony (and perhaps most others) that it's a ritual. Added to that, the obligations attached when you have a traditional ceremony, planned by enthusiastic senior members of the family - how can one actually enjoy the process of getting married?
Photographer: Is everyone standing with their family? (pointed at me & my 2nd uncle) Are you with them?
(family members looking around, fingers pointing)
Xiao: Oh, it really doesn't matter to me where I stand.
It's mid-autumn festival today! And I did not have mooncakes, but what I had was chese fondue moitie moitie. :) *Mmm* I obviously bought too much cheese though, there were five of us and I had bought a portion for four. But I found myself eating alone towards the end, and there was still half a pot full of cheese. Ok, didn't factor in the asian diet!
Went around Little India today with JGL, for the first time in my life! It is almost embarassing to say that I was brought up as a Singaporean, went to government schools all my life. I suddenly feel I am quite uneducated about my own country! What struck me most was that despite mildly racist comments I have been hearing from my (extended) family all my life, it surely didn't make me feel that way today at Little India. We were more than welcome.
I shall blog about it another time, after MBTI and Chinatown. Things have just been too busy recently and I am facing a deadline for this friday. Yes, another commitment. And I've been scouring touristy places for postcards to send, but haven't found any particularly interesting. Perhaps some of Jacq's photos would do… hehehehe!
Been chatting with my mom again tonight on the car, discussing relationships. I'm grateful that these past few months of my life have been peaceful but not bland. I want this feeling to carry on. But of course, I had my fair share of heart-breaking moments almost a year ago now. It takes a long time for the soul to recover from such ill-treatment. All three of us in this house are at different phases in how we deal with relationships, and of course our ideals are different too. It is good to know that I have finally reached the end in my search for the answer as to what constitutes a healthy relationship & what my ideal partner should be like. Needless to say, it goes beyond 'blond-haired, glasses'… :D
It's one of those evenings when I'm alone in my room, music playing in the background, feeling dejected again. What about this time? Probably that sense of loss, that things around me are so wrong and yet there is nothing I can do to change it, nothing I can do to help it get better except maybe to leave. Why have I just committed myself to something that binds me to home again? The mere FRUSTRATION!
Why do people fuss about their weddings? So much such that it becomes a chore just organising it? What are people thinking behind that facade they are presenting? What's wrong with being on 'mama-papa scholarship'? Why can't a primary school teacher watch her words? Why do people take grudges? Why do people judge based on solely academic results? Why are people obsessed with money? How can one lead a life that revolves only around restaurants, pubs, the office, shopping centres and the cinema? How can men go about their lives just playing computer games? Why does our state condone a double-standard pay scheme? How can a people not speak up against injustice?
Once again I had to defy convention to do what I want. Sure enough, people in THIS society wouldn't understand, they wouldn't see the point unless you get 'somewhere', when your actions speak for themselves, literally screaming 'shut up'! And then people approach from the other angle, with all their bootlicking. Oh enough with the boasting, I want to be just myself, just another person in this state, doing something that seems meaningful to me. Enough with the boasting, my credentials are mine and they haven't got anythign to do with you no matter the 'family ties'!
The beginning. Kai1 shi3. Hoi chi. Das Anfang.
I will start tomorrow, probably 'training' to promote the society for the Tunnel Party on Saturday. Received an email today from M as well, Manager for Corporate Administration at the society.
Having been a city girl all my life, born and bred as a middle-class citizen of my country, most of the 'gender equity' issues I have faced so far don't go beyond 'who does the housework' and 'who pays for dinner'. Finally, I may be able to find the answers that I have been looking for all my life. Starting tomorrow.
Just a side note, JGL and I were sitting under a coconut tree today outside Ngee Ann City. A boy not older than 16 came up to us asking for a donation. After giving him money with some hesitation, he asked us, "Are you from Sg? Because I hear your accent…"
Dearest red passport, I'm afraid I am 'sort of' from here…
Just came back from Karaoke with my ex-colleagues. Have I been away so long? I couldn't even find my way to Orchard Road from City Hall today. The clothes I left in my wardrobe 4 years ago have gone mouldy. I couldn't recognise any songs at the Karaoke lounge. Even my softball glove has gone mouldy… And looking at the soft toys I played with years ago, I realised there will come a day when everything will fall apart.
Four years of absence will be topped with another four years. My accent has changed, and it's so difficult to speak Singlish again. I have an urge to speak cantonese all the time. I'm seeing frowns. People are telling me I won't be coming back after all. It's stifling. I want to cycle, but the only place to do that is East Coast Park. I need some time alone, or time with someone I can relate to.
Perhaps it's been the past year especially, after the departure of two people who have always tied me to home emotionally and psychologically. I have shrugged off my reigns, and I feel that I might have wandered too far. So far that I wish I hadn't been so ambitious, that I wish I were 'one of them', 'normal' like everyone else.
Interesting article that Jacq showed me:
http://www.talfryn.net/2007/05/31/yatck/
It's the YATCK syndrome! *gasp*
*To look up Pollock & van Reken*
Mission for today is to buy mooncakes & to look for a salon where I can have a haircut for SGD40. :)
Clothes packed, room almost vacated. Typing up recipes I may want to try out now, filling in dates in my diary.
AND
Coming to terms with the latest news received very early this morning, about 9am SG time:
I'm going to be a BRIDESMAID. Not only that, I am going to be RING BEARER as well…
I think I asked for it this time. Perhaps it will be useful if I psyche myself to believe in the idea of 'marriage' between now and the 29th. And I'll have to start practising that smile. *smile!*
Still trying to come to terms with this 6 hours before flying. I expect it to be a very interesting holiday indeed…