To look life in the face

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? 

I've been brought up with the idea that problems which can be solved with money are not really problems after all. Which is why finding a flat in London is to me much easier than finding one here in Switzerland. Coming from a broken family gave me the chance to be who I am today. Problems had to be faced, and though I was an unhappy child I reveled in the luck of having a funded overseas education, a luxury that not many children can afford to have. And because parents have moved on to have their own life, I never had to worry about obligations to 'pay back' what was invested in me. 

So it is time to get my act together. After all, I am still very lucky to have come this far. Money matters always hurt, but then money can be used to solve problems. And this time it is no exception. I need to tell myself to be thankful that I have an income at the very least. And that I have this opportunity that money cannot buy. It is time for me to stop thinking about that very daunting five-figure sum, but to think about how I could go about finding that balance between affording what I want and to pay off this immense debt that was not of my doing.

Emotions take time to cool, and cool off they will but I hope not with too much of a loss of respect. In the end, we are all very different people and we cannot expect others to live up to our own expectations especially of ourselves. What I could achieve someone else may not be able to. Like Zheyi said, "Life is beautiful because we fuck up!"

We didn't realise this, and we didn't acknowlege this… but did we see it coming? My worst fears have come true… or are they my worst? Or OUR fears? The truth is plain to see - that we are growing apart. And horridly there is nobody to blame but our lifestyles - work, commitment, moving out etc etc… I still speak as if it is my family, and we still behave as if it is our family. But where has the enthusiasm gone? I myself am guilty in this respect, but perhaps because it seemed as if nobody cared.

I can still say without hesitation, "London is my second home." But can I talk about London in the same way three years from now? Do I miss everyone there? I don't think I'd be honest with myself if I said I did dreadfully. Because the truth is, I don't think about London that often. I saw a purpose of my one year in London, and I have prepped myself psychologically for what is to come and what is. Perhaps a little too much, such that I now am glad that I am living on my own. Honestly, I couldn't take living like a student anymore. It is not the people, it is about me having my own space. And the need for that ever slight distance, that reservation between friends, that space when you cool off your emotions after a hard day's work. Because you tend to depend on others when it lasts.

I am not the least bit disappointed, but perhaps confused. What is Qugee to me now? Does it need a redefinition? This certainly doesn't entail a withdrawl, but perhaps there needs to be a redefinition, along with priorities. Perhaps one should start with what Qugee is? What does it mean to each of us? Oddly enough, I'm not panicking, neither am I upset. It seems to me a natural progression towards a cooling off of relations, one that can neither be dealt with because of physical, geographical isolation, nor can be improved because of priorities and commitments. 

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? 我不禁哀声 叹气!

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/sci/tech/7100039.stm

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/sci/tech/7098902.stm 

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.  

So I've finally arrived in Lausanne. Stumbled off the train with nearly 47kg of baggage and landed on the platform, successfully blocking the way of a huge crowd of people impatiently waiting to get on the train. 

I cried much less this time than I did the last - when I was here for an 8-week project. Kamil says it's because I've been emotionally preparing myself for a year. I think what he says is true. The MRes year was for "wrapping up things" in London, and I've been redefining bonds, drawing up boundaries, establishing new friendships, delving into new ideas and projects, rooting myself in beliefs and principles. It's time for a change. There are to now still many questions that I havent' found answers to, questions pertaining to me and my preferences that even I don't know how to go about answering. So I guess these next four years would be for self-realisation.

The one question I probably want to tackle now is this: Am I leaving my life behind to start a brand new life? I am honestly puzzled and I know not the answer. In a way I could see why Kamil suggested so. I do feel it. I am settling in like a student, not much different than I did four years ago. Find an apartment, buy utensils, cutlery, crockery, open a bank account etc etc. I'll have time to do those weekend trips as well. The only catch here, the biggest difference is that I'm doing these all by myself, and I'm not depending on a single person or a student society to help me settle in. I know what has changed, and the reason for this being that I'm taking with me all that I acquired in London, everything I have taken time to polish, painstakingly… everything… The only thing I've left behind is the physical presence of people. I feel, even when alone at night, the warmth of all those close to me across France and the English channel. I dont' dare say that I will not feel lonely, but that feeling hasn't sunk in yet. I hope, I hope it doesn't come. 

It was brilliant to see everyone back in the lab again yesterday, and some new faces. The few hours was spent on greeting people and asking after them, and it was vice versa. Then Friedrich said to me, 'Welcome back.' It was just two words, but it made me happy. It made me feel 'at home'. This reality that I am to embrace Lausanne as my home for the next four years is perhaps the most emotionally daunting challenge I've had the past few years. London was not like this, I knew people going with me. Honestly, now when I say 'I'm going back to London in Christmas', I still feel I'm going 'back', but can I say I'm going 'home'? 'Home' is such a strong word to use. It binds people. I can't keep a straight face when I refer to Singapore as 'Home Home'. I find myself unable to rank my 'homes' in order of importance such that one is more 'home' than the other. I'm equally happy going back to London or to Singapore. I still maintain my position that I've got two families - one in London and one in Singapore. And when I'm in London this December, I'll probably say to you, 'I'm going back to Lausanne after the New Year!'