Reflections

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.

"... 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

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?! ;)