I had dinner with Joseph and Visayon last night since Jo's just got back from the Philippines and I haven't seen Visayon in almost 6 weeks. As usual, the crazy choir exco was (and is) perpetually busy with choir-y stuff. Nonetheless, they found a slot in their busy schedules to fit me in for dinner, and Joseph mentioned several things to me which made me think:
First, he said that I looked happy.
Granted, I did spend most of last year terribly depressed (as he reminded me) and whining, moping and stressing. We both had really a really bad time last sem and found ourselves chanting "Life sucks" a lot. In fact, that sort of became our mantra. I'd forgotten all of that. lol. In retrospect, it seems a little bit silly when I look back. But just a tad, because I do recall it being a most painful time for me - I failed my first Sociology midterm (which was a blow to the ego and the CAP), got a darn B- on a Scitech essay, had 5 papers to write....... In any case, stress works as a motivational tool, sort of like a grain of sand in an oyster. I worked it and the semester only dented my CAP by 0.1 anyway.
But yes, I have been happy. I haven't been thinking about it much, but I have actually been really happy for the past few weeks. I've enjoyed hanging out with the Aggies, from lunch at Engineering on Tuesdays and Thursdays to weekends away and just chilling by beaches or under cloudy skies... Believe it or not, I actually like going on their field trips with them. Who'dve thunk it huh? It's hard to explain it, but they calm me down. I feel really mellow when I'm with them, like I don't have to think too hard or try to please. They make me smile all the time and they make me happy. They are the reason I'm happy.
I wouldn't say that the past six weeks have been surreal, but it's felt like an out-of-the-ordinary experience. Like going on exchange. I've attempted explaining it as something external to your real life, like an extension pack of sorts that you use to fuel yourself and when it's done it's just an empty shell to look at fondly on a mantlepiece or something. Victor Turner wrote a paper on rites of passage called "The Symbolic Passage of Time" or something like that. In the paper, he describes rites of passage as liminal periods marked as sacred periods in between 2 profane time frames. I'm going to have to re-read the paper to be accurate and more specific about this, but generally, as you leave your initial state of profane or normal mundane everyday existence, you have all these preparations like a ritualistic symbolic death. Then you enter your liminal or sacred period characterised by all these things that i can't be arsed to look up... anyway, this is the special period where you do things you wouldn't normally do. Rituals you follow, etc. And as you leave this sacred period, you are sort of "reborn" symbolically back into your profane existence.
It seems strange perhaps, but this time has been liminal and sacred for me too. It's been very special. They're special people. It's going to be hellishly sad when I have to say goodbye (soon) and I foresee tears and a period of mourning. But dang it, I think they're the best thing to happen to me this summer. *poke* ;)
Joseph also asked me how I've changed. How my life has been changed.
I said I needed to think that one through. Which I did, and this is what I think: I think that life is such that you don't notice change until some time after and you look back and see. There's various aspects to this, and I will get to them in time I'm sure. Right now, I believe I'm still in it, still within the process to notice any change. What I can do is share what I've learnt. Because essentially, it's what you learn and what you do with the knowledge that you've learnt which changes you, right? And I've learnt a lot. The job has taught me a lot, Evonne has taught me a lot and hanging around American engineers has taught me a lot. One day I will make a nice long post about what I have learnt. Today, alas, is not that day.
Wednesday, July 26, 2006
Tuesday, July 18, 2006
"... and thanks for all the fish"
Fernando bought me an NUS coffee mug today, which was very sweet of him and slightly ironic, considering the fact that I'm the NUS student and I should probably be the one buying him NUS paraphernalia. Alas, the selection of stuff at the co-op/bookstore is dismal at best and the person who designed and approved the designs for the T-shirts should be shot. Understandably, local NUS students are not the most spirited lot and you'd be hard pressed to find one who would actually don one of them t-shirts. And the fact that they're absolutely hideous doesn't help any. Alright, to be fair, the centennial t-shirt in black is not as abhorrent. And the black polo T with the NUS crest is rather nice. Still, I think we should come up with a "Design an NUS T-shirt" contest. Perhaps it would do something to up school spirit... and maybe create some school traditions... maybe that could be a thesis topic. Identity and identification.... *scampers off on that thought*
what a deliciously random post! :P
what a deliciously random post! :P
It's not about not seeing you anymore, it's knowing you're not there.
I'm staring in a state of half-shock, half-disbelief at the TAMU schedule that lies before me. I suppose it's one of those things I really should be used to, but how does one ever get used to saying goodbye? It's one thing if it were a simple matter of "see you again...maybe...in a couple of years" - although not to say that's not difficult either - but there's a cocktail of shock, sadness, and poignancy as well as a twinge of bittersweet longing in it.
It's mystifying just how much can happen in four to six weeks. We're at the wrong end of that time line and we're just spiralling through, like being sucked into a vortex of time gone by. There's so much to say which will inevitably remain unsaid. There's so much to do in such little time to do it. And there is a lot of emotion. Which, perhaps, should have never been there in the first place. Theoretically, it's an easy equation: if you remove the emotions, everything else will be quite easily dealt with. You stand on the other side of the airport, wave your charges goodbye and walk away ready to commence with another day. There's no aftermath of farewell to deal with, no voids in your life to fill up with inane activities and thoughts, no crack in your heart to patch up and no video reel of memories which make you smile and laugh and cry at the same time.
Initially, you think - What's six weeks? That's not enough time to get emotionally attached to anyone. Yeah, saying goodbye will be a breeze. *thwack* My foot, lah! I suppose, the first question that people always ask me is simply, if it was worth it. "Would you rather not have had that and make it easier on yourself?" Of course not. It's ironic, but the fact that it's so difficult to disentangle implies that there was something good there. It's easy to wave farewell to something which didn't impact you at all.
I suppose, you're always on the wrong side of the glass as long as you're not on the same side of the glass.
However, if I learnt one thing from them, it's this - "There's nothing you can do about it, so don't worry about it and just be happy." I've done this enough times to not be clouded by idealism. I know what will happen. No matter how hard you try, overseas experiences are like little funpacks of experiences. Divorced from your real life. It's like an extension pack you attach and when you're done with it, you're done with it. So what I am going to do now is simply to enjoy whatever little time we have left. I am going to seize the days and squeeze every last iota, whatever an iota may be, out of them. Screw essay deadlines, screw exams. We're gonna ride the hours and days like a flying horse through the wind. Or rather, more likely like a speedboat on choppy waters on the way to Phi Phi Lei. Bumps, bruises and thrills guaranteed. Who's with me?! ;)
It's mystifying just how much can happen in four to six weeks. We're at the wrong end of that time line and we're just spiralling through, like being sucked into a vortex of time gone by. There's so much to say which will inevitably remain unsaid. There's so much to do in such little time to do it. And there is a lot of emotion. Which, perhaps, should have never been there in the first place. Theoretically, it's an easy equation: if you remove the emotions, everything else will be quite easily dealt with. You stand on the other side of the airport, wave your charges goodbye and walk away ready to commence with another day. There's no aftermath of farewell to deal with, no voids in your life to fill up with inane activities and thoughts, no crack in your heart to patch up and no video reel of memories which make you smile and laugh and cry at the same time.
Initially, you think - What's six weeks? That's not enough time to get emotionally attached to anyone. Yeah, saying goodbye will be a breeze. *thwack* My foot, lah! I suppose, the first question that people always ask me is simply, if it was worth it. "Would you rather not have had that and make it easier on yourself?" Of course not. It's ironic, but the fact that it's so difficult to disentangle implies that there was something good there. It's easy to wave farewell to something which didn't impact you at all.
I suppose, you're always on the wrong side of the glass as long as you're not on the same side of the glass.
However, if I learnt one thing from them, it's this - "There's nothing you can do about it, so don't worry about it and just be happy." I've done this enough times to not be clouded by idealism. I know what will happen. No matter how hard you try, overseas experiences are like little funpacks of experiences. Divorced from your real life. It's like an extension pack you attach and when you're done with it, you're done with it. So what I am going to do now is simply to enjoy whatever little time we have left. I am going to seize the days and squeeze every last iota, whatever an iota may be, out of them. Screw essay deadlines, screw exams. We're gonna ride the hours and days like a flying horse through the wind. Or rather, more likely like a speedboat on choppy waters on the way to Phi Phi Lei. Bumps, bruises and thrills guaranteed. Who's with me?! ;)
Thursday, June 22, 2006
articulation of thoughts
I do believe that I'm the World's Worst Procrastinator. My summer plan was to start a blog and begin writing seriously. No random thoughts, no jumble of rabble, no mere articulation of the soliloquiys inside my head. I was going to be a Social Commentator. Of sorts. I was going to be articulate and poetic. So what happened? I turned reticent. Not out of a lack of things to say or comment on, issues are always abundant and there is never a quiet moment in my mind. Nope, I'm just an awful, awful procrastinator. But here I go, rambling on and on about nothing again.
"Nothing will come out of nothing, speak again/Lest you mar your fortune" - King Lear
If you've known me long enough, you'd know this is the my favourite line to quote. Simply because it embodies a lot of things, a lot of ideals. Tis a flawed statement. Indeed, later on in the play the Fool asks the King "Canst you make something out of nothing, nuncle?" People could argue that it's the job of social scientists to "make something out of nothing" and you could interpret it in so many ways.
A little more about what I've been doing with my time in a little bit... but these are the things that are in my mind. I should probably do away with my goal of coherence; I find my blogs most effective when I'm just articulating my thoughts. My blog are as random as I am. They're like my synecdoche. Or metonymy. I forget which.
My defence of the Arts has always been its focus on aesthetics. I'm in love with words the way some people are in love with music. I'm in love with expression. Self-expression in whatever form, and I think I've been a terrible hypocrite all these years. Perhaps it's the way things work in Singapore, perhaps it's the way I never seem to belong in any of the groups of people where I feel the happiest - somehow I thrive on being the outsider - or perhaps these are mere excuses to an intrinsic character flaw, I don't know. Singapore places a great deal of emphasis on technicality, on excelling in studies, in productivity and numbers. Things like Literature and poetry don't matter in school. People come to university to earn a piece of paper. People fear passion and are threatened by enthusiasm.
I'm a Sociology major, so you don't have to give me lectures about stereotypes. Unfortunately, I've had a long standing grudge against the Engineering and Science people. Hey, perhaps it's a deep rooted subconscious resentment because they're better at Math and Science and they're gonna make a truckload of money more than me. Or perhaps sometime in History, one of them pissed me off. Whatever, I don't know. All I know, is that perhaps I've been unfair. When I went to Queen's, it was the Engineering people who got out Golden Words, the funniest, wittiest and smartest publication I've ever come across. And this year, I met an Engineering student who's astute and really nice. Plus, the A&M studs have really made me realise a lot of things. Which brings me to my job description -
And incidentally, the most legitimate reason to my procrastination: I got a job. And I've really been learning a lot on the job, too. I'm a Student Associate at the International Relations Office at NUS. Currently, I'm helping out with a Summer Programme for Texas A&M. (The whole job story is pretty funny, I'll tell it another time perhaps.) Engineering students, the lot of them. For the past month or so, I've been making phonecalls, updating schedules, coming up with itineraries, making more phonecalls... I was really looking forward to their arrival and now that they're here, my job is a lot of fun.
Today, for instance, we got to go on our first fieldtrip to a company which dealt with Engineering stuff. Which was interesting for me in a very different sort of way. The most interesting speaker was an Indian man whose name I never got. And he spoke of Engineering as an Art, as a form of aesthetics. And while I don't fully understand how this was, I appreciated the sentiment and it tied in with what Dr Leon spoke with me about yesterday during his campus tour. I spoke with Dr Leon (one of their profs who was visiting) about one of my possible thesis topics of emotional management, and he mentioned about doing a job you love to do and how you'll never have to work. He also said something about believing in what you're doing. Passion is an interesting thing. I believe it's one of those things that you can't stake claim to: you can't say something like "oh, I'm passionate about *insert Source of Passion here*" well, you could. But I believe that passion is something that people can tell without you having to say it. Passion is self-evident. And alas, passion in Singapore faces a tough battle against practicality and rationalism. Alas, Passion doesn't always emerge victorious.
Passion is like fire. That's what I believe. It can energise you, it can drive you to great heights. But unbridled passion can also burn you and scar you. You just have to know how to wied it. And that's what life is, or should be about. Learning how to wield passion. Which can be ironic.
I'm very lucky in a lot of ways. I really like my job. I haven't had it for very long, but I've been learning a lot. I'm a terribly blur person who resides in my own world for a lot of the time and the job is exposing how much I don't know the things that I should. It's making me realise that I don't have all the answers, that my perceptions on a lot of things are based on the very flawed assumptions I claim to criticise. It's teaching me to be more confident, to take a chance. It's working experience. And while I'm a total spaz when it comes to dry and wet etching and deposition and plasma and tool processing and how "the only wafers I know come with ice cream", these field trips are relevant to what I study and my interests insofar as it challenges my perceptions, it makes me think and reconsider the things I take for granted. Which is the very essence of sociology.
"Nothing will come out of nothing, speak again/Lest you mar your fortune" - King Lear
If you've known me long enough, you'd know this is the my favourite line to quote. Simply because it embodies a lot of things, a lot of ideals. Tis a flawed statement. Indeed, later on in the play the Fool asks the King "Canst you make something out of nothing, nuncle?" People could argue that it's the job of social scientists to "make something out of nothing" and you could interpret it in so many ways.
A little more about what I've been doing with my time in a little bit... but these are the things that are in my mind. I should probably do away with my goal of coherence; I find my blogs most effective when I'm just articulating my thoughts. My blog are as random as I am. They're like my synecdoche. Or metonymy. I forget which.
My defence of the Arts has always been its focus on aesthetics. I'm in love with words the way some people are in love with music. I'm in love with expression. Self-expression in whatever form, and I think I've been a terrible hypocrite all these years. Perhaps it's the way things work in Singapore, perhaps it's the way I never seem to belong in any of the groups of people where I feel the happiest - somehow I thrive on being the outsider - or perhaps these are mere excuses to an intrinsic character flaw, I don't know. Singapore places a great deal of emphasis on technicality, on excelling in studies, in productivity and numbers. Things like Literature and poetry don't matter in school. People come to university to earn a piece of paper. People fear passion and are threatened by enthusiasm.
I'm a Sociology major, so you don't have to give me lectures about stereotypes. Unfortunately, I've had a long standing grudge against the Engineering and Science people. Hey, perhaps it's a deep rooted subconscious resentment because they're better at Math and Science and they're gonna make a truckload of money more than me. Or perhaps sometime in History, one of them pissed me off. Whatever, I don't know. All I know, is that perhaps I've been unfair. When I went to Queen's, it was the Engineering people who got out Golden Words, the funniest, wittiest and smartest publication I've ever come across. And this year, I met an Engineering student who's astute and really nice. Plus, the A&M studs have really made me realise a lot of things. Which brings me to my job description -
And incidentally, the most legitimate reason to my procrastination: I got a job. And I've really been learning a lot on the job, too. I'm a Student Associate at the International Relations Office at NUS. Currently, I'm helping out with a Summer Programme for Texas A&M. (The whole job story is pretty funny, I'll tell it another time perhaps.) Engineering students, the lot of them. For the past month or so, I've been making phonecalls, updating schedules, coming up with itineraries, making more phonecalls... I was really looking forward to their arrival and now that they're here, my job is a lot of fun.
Today, for instance, we got to go on our first fieldtrip to a company which dealt with Engineering stuff. Which was interesting for me in a very different sort of way. The most interesting speaker was an Indian man whose name I never got. And he spoke of Engineering as an Art, as a form of aesthetics. And while I don't fully understand how this was, I appreciated the sentiment and it tied in with what Dr Leon spoke with me about yesterday during his campus tour. I spoke with Dr Leon (one of their profs who was visiting) about one of my possible thesis topics of emotional management, and he mentioned about doing a job you love to do and how you'll never have to work. He also said something about believing in what you're doing. Passion is an interesting thing. I believe it's one of those things that you can't stake claim to: you can't say something like "oh, I'm passionate about *insert Source of Passion here*" well, you could. But I believe that passion is something that people can tell without you having to say it. Passion is self-evident. And alas, passion in Singapore faces a tough battle against practicality and rationalism. Alas, Passion doesn't always emerge victorious.
Passion is like fire. That's what I believe. It can energise you, it can drive you to great heights. But unbridled passion can also burn you and scar you. You just have to know how to wied it. And that's what life is, or should be about. Learning how to wield passion. Which can be ironic.
I'm very lucky in a lot of ways. I really like my job. I haven't had it for very long, but I've been learning a lot. I'm a terribly blur person who resides in my own world for a lot of the time and the job is exposing how much I don't know the things that I should. It's making me realise that I don't have all the answers, that my perceptions on a lot of things are based on the very flawed assumptions I claim to criticise. It's teaching me to be more confident, to take a chance. It's working experience. And while I'm a total spaz when it comes to dry and wet etching and deposition and plasma and tool processing and how "the only wafers I know come with ice cream", these field trips are relevant to what I study and my interests insofar as it challenges my perceptions, it makes me think and reconsider the things I take for granted. Which is the very essence of sociology.
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