A reflection upon the state of things

The toughest semester in my education history - three level 400 modules, mostly with intense group work and difficult content - has come an end. As I finish my final paper in the exam hall, a staff at the university comes along to every table to scrape off the sticker indicating the table number - truly, my final paper was in the final time slot of the exam season.

My girlfriend is overseas with her family in Europe, and she has been away since 1 December. 25 days in the  Old World winter; this might very well be longest time we spend apart from each other. But well. She updates me everyday about this and that, and I pretty much can come to the conclusion that she is happy, which makes me feel better. Funny thing though, she goes to London to have Asian food. Some weird habit on the side of her family if you ask me. But well, I guess there is something special about Asian food in the West - popular culture is always so obsessed with this thing called the "Chinese Takeaway". Well I know what Chinese food, but I don't know how a "Chinese Takeaway" is like. So.

The end of the exams doesn't give me any form of respite either. No rest until the after Christmas I suppose. In actual fact, I have not had a good rest since... last year I suppose. Since I was in Vietnam. That is almost a year ago already. Sigh. Time really flies at the speed of... time. Since I returned from Vietnam, it has been like School - Church - Exam - Church - Internship - Internship - Church - School - Exam. And now that exam has ended, when everybody says "Hooray its BREAK time!", guess what's lined up for me? If you guessed anything other than "Church", you deserve a good knock in the head. I don't know how I'm going to get any break at this rate. Or maybe my life will be like this - one good break a year. Heck, even the people WORKING in the church get better work-life balance than people VOLUNTEERING in the church. But I ain't complaining.

I guess this is what volunteerism is all about. Some times I really wonder to myself, "is it worth it?" I mean, really, volunteering at the church (well you can call it ministry or anything, but its volunteering) isn't really very rewarding in the rather tangible or recognisable sense. Defenders of the Faith are probably going to come shoot me with their machine guns of "You do it for God" or "Your reward is in Heaven" kind of argument, but argh. Come on, I've been a Christian for nearly 10 years now - you think I don't know the line of argument?

I'm not even saying that such theology is wrong. Heck, if volunteering at church isn't about rewards in Heaven and about God, what can it be about? All I'm saying is that such volunteerism ain't easy. It's difficult because some times I don't know what the heck I'm doing it for. I look at my friends who volunteer for some non-profit organisation helping the needy or the elderly or whoever, and they get recognised by organsiations, and they can put it onto their resume to get good jobs and scholarships, and it seems that their work is SO MEANINGFUL as well; then I think to myself - I'm putting in the same number of hours and effort, but who the heck puts "Volunteer at the church" in their resume, and who even cares about your volunteer work in the church. Who's going to care if I'm a YCG leader or not when I'm looking for opportunities after my graduation?

In other words, what do my efforts in volunteering for the church translate to?

I honestly cannot have an answer for this. I've been trying to work it out for myself. There are times when I say that I do it for the members under my care - I've formed a bond with them and they are my friends, so its kind of an ass thing to do to just back out on them now. Then there are also times when I say that I do it for God's blessing - I've always believed that my life has been blessed tremendously by God, and that my faithfulness is rewarded in the form of peace and rather good grades. These are the times when I hold extremely firm to the verse "But seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you." (Matthew 6:33). Then there are times when I feel defeated by the very mission that I am working for.

My church is going through some sort of transition phase right now. Structures are being changed, new ministries are coming on board and the leadership is taking on a different direction in several areas. I've heard  of major changes in several ministries and there are many who aren't happy with the leadership at all. I don't know about other ministries which I am not involved in, but the Youth Leadership Ministry (of which I am a part of) is going through some sort of weeding phase.

Weeding phase. Cynical, but that's exactly what it is. We were involved in some sort of meeting with the lead pastor, and basically the take-away was "if you don't think you can commit to the ministry, then please leave. If you think you can, please commit." It sounds harsh, but I personally felt that it was a very fair thing to ask of us. The entire youth ministry has become bogged down by leaders who aren't committed either because the years of commitment has drained them and quenched their fire, or because of the haphazard recruitment of half-ready leaders because there was a major lack of manpower. Whatever the reason is, people who aren't committed affect others. Negativity is contagious. And if we wanna make a fresh start for the farm, some weeding is absolutely necessary.

So I was given a choice. Leave or stay. Even though it was my exam period, I gave some thought to it. It was quite a struggle, really. I was honestly very tempted to leave. But when I looked at the leaders whom I work with, and the members in my community group, and my life's blessings from God through my education, I felt a very strong conviction that Matthew 6:33 holds very true. So through the conviction of this verse, I decided to say to myself, "Ah what the heck. Let's just stick through with it and see what happens."

Unfortunately I haven't convinced myself beyond that. I still feel a sense of tiredness about the ministry. It's the kind of ministry that really takes a lot out of you. I mean, I only just finished my exams two days ago and they want me to start planning for a series of consecutive events for Christmas. It's difficult, and I feel pretty burnt out.

I guess the issue here isn't really about commitment. It's really to simplistic to just put an ultimatum on the leaders and ask them to decide if they want to commit or to quit. Seriously, I don't think it works like this. Somebody seems to be trying a sort of quick fix to the sticky situation that we are in. Weeding is one thing, but something needs to be done with the kind of commitment that we are all signed up for too. The church expects a lot from the people serving in it; that puts a lot of stress on the people doing volunteer work for the church.

Some sort of understanding need to be struck between the church and its volunteers. A two-way communication channel AND environment should be available for open feedback. The system (heck, it's a system even if you don't recognise it as one) has to be softer and flexible, with more space for people to find it easier to fit themselves into places where they can perform at a more optimum rate. Something should be done to keep the volunteers encouraged and passionate for their ministry. Some sort of rest or break should be planned for the volunteers (and I'm not saying those kinds of "break" whereby there is no YCG for the week but we STILL need to plan for something ahead). I don't know all the solutions to this sticky situation, but more needs to be done if we want to see positive changes in the new year.

Help us to find a reason why we should serve with more of our heart and our effort and our time. If there is anything the church is for, it is to encourage its workers and volunteers to keep their hearts on fire for God, and not to discourage them through difficult human resource policies.

Help us to believe in Matthew 6:33, not tell us to believe in it.

The Contract

It was the year 2050. The Society for the Ethical Treatment of Animals (SETA) had garnered huge support against the slaughtering of cattle for food, and was placing  huge pressure on policy makers to ban the slaughter of cattle for food. Everyday, supporters lobbied and protested, and the government found themselves in a tight spot.

The thing was this - the government officials loved meat. And the person-in-charge of handling this issue with SETA was himself a huge meat lover. He couldn't imagine a society without any beef. He loved his steak the most, T-bone, Rib-eye, Sirloin, anything. But he was under immense pressure. What couldhe do? If SETA continued to put pressure like this, there would be no more beef in the country, or even the world! Many people would suffer, and many jobs would be lost as slaughterhouses closed down. He was at his wits' end.

While thinking about it in his office library, he stumbled upon a book about the founding history of a certain city state in the late 1800s. And all of a sudden, he had an idea. It was almost an eureka moment for him as he dashed out of his office to gather his colleagues and discussed his plan with them.

The next day, several people spotted a group of government officials bringing a huge and majestic looking bull into a building. However, they were not able to see what happened in the building as the door was quickly shut and there were no windows about. They just sighed to themselves as they believed that this was a group of desperate officials who had kidnapped a bull to satisfy their meat craving in these times of lack.

Nobody took much notice of what happened in that building, and people gradually forgot about it. The following week, everyone was surprised when the same group of government officials brought the bull out, as huge and majestic as before, but this time with a crown and a robe around it. It was one of the most bizarre sights anybody had ever seen in their lives. The officials led the bull straight to the supreme court and made an announcement in front of the judge.

"This bull here is the King of All Cattle, and he has decided to make an agreement with us humans."

The people who were at the scene were bewildered. Sure, this bull looked kingly enough, but since when was there a king of all cattle? Some were very skeptical.

"Where did this bull come from? How can you prove to us that this is the King of All Cattle?" a man in the crowd shouted in question.

Many people were gathering around the scene now, and it was getting rather chaotic. The judge asked everyone to quieten down.

"Well, well. The people are right. You have to prove that this bull is indeed the King of All Cattle before any sort of agreement can be made on behalf of all cattle with the humans," the judge said rather wisely. He was very much amused himself at what was happening. And he was a hardcore meat lover.

"Alright. Here's a document stating his lineage and his relations with all cattle. It is very clear that he is indeed the King of All Cattle," replied an official as he handed a piece of paper to the judge.

"Well well... this seems quite credible..." muttered the judge as he fingered the document that looked worn out and aged.

Some people from SETA arrived, and were extremely furious at what was happening.

"What is the meaning of this?! Since when has there been any form of lineage among cattle?! This is all a fraud!" they shouted in anger. Some of them tried to push through the crowd but were stopped by the guards.

"Well, I don't see any reason to doubt this document. It looks genuine enough. Why would anyone want to forge a document concerning the lineage of the King of All Cattle?" replied the judge, as he handed the document for keeping. "However, for the sake of fairness, I would like more proof from His Majesty the King, please."

"Of course," said the official coolly.

One of the officials standing near the bull whispered something into its ear, and all of a sudden, the bull perked its ears in attention. Everyone held their breath and their hearts skipped a beat. Then, as if it was the most normal thing in the world, the bull opened its mouth and said the following:

"I am the King of All Cattle. I represent all cattle here today to form a treaty with the humans."

Everyone present was shocked, and some were scared out of their wits and ran away in fear. There was a huge commotion in the crowd. The judge quickly recovered from his own surprise and took control of the situation.

"Well well... erhem, I guess that pretty much settles it. This bull is indeed the King of All Cattle," announced the judge. "So, what kind of treaty are you going to make with the humans, Your Majesty?"

Once again, an official whispered something into the ear of the bull and it perked up again.

"I have come to make an agreement that man can slaughter any number of cattle as long as they keep my species alive and in good number," said the bull.

A person from SETA, upon hearing this, was so outraged that he almost burst with anger on the spot, but he didn't. Instead, he shouted out in protest,

"This is utter bull shit! What kind of bull shit agreement is that?!"

The officials were now feeling rather bullish about the whole situation, and replied in confidence,

"Well, the King of All Cattle has spoken, how can you say this is... well, whatever you said it is?"

There was loud murmuring among the crowd and several people were dragged away by the guards. One of them being the person from SETA. The judge then quickly stepped in and announced:

"Well, since an agreement has been reached, I guess we should sign a contract regarding this agreement."

A contract was brought out, and the bull stamped its hoof on it, while the judge signed in acknowledgement of the contract. With that, a contract was formed between cattle and man, that all man can freely slaughter and eat cattle as long as they keep the species thriving.

Since that day, SETA could find no reason to fault the policy makers for allowing cattle to be slaughtered for food because of the contract. The policymaker was happy, the judge was happy, and plenty of jobs were saved.

No one knew where the King of All Cattle went after the contract signing in the supreme court.

The man didn't believe

The man didn't believe that he would drink

Until the day his friend asked him out and be merry.

The man didn't believe that he would binge

Until the day his friend asked him out and be merry

And bought him a pint after he finished his own.

The man didn't believe that he would get drunk

Until the day his friend asked him out and be merry

And bought him a pint after he finished his own

And he wakes up next morning with a splitting headache.

The man didn't believe that getting drunk was a big deal

Until the day his friend asked him out and be merry

And bought him a pint after he finished his own

And he wakes up next morning with a splitting headache

And his wife and children are no longer at home anymore.

Missing

These nights, especially since after my exams are over for this semester, I've been staring at the ceiling while I am on my bed, and I will think. Often, on the ceiling I will see random dots of light as if the ceiling and the walls are filled with millions and millions of glow-in-the-dark ants that one could only see at night. I don't know what they are; I suppose they are some trickery my eyes are playing on me, but when I was younger, I truly thought they were glow-in-the-dark ants and I was truly afraid of them coming to crawl over me, because they really were all over the place.

These nights, as I lay on my bed staring at the ceiling and thinking, I've been thinking of and missing people. I've been missing my auntie and my cousin, both of whom passed away last year. It's been more than a year now, and most of us have moved on from the loss, but now and then, I still lie in this state of unbelief. I lie in a state of disbelief that my cousin and my aunt have gone, and will never come back.

I miss them. I truly do. Their going away seems to have created this void in my heart that retains a special shape that only their presence can fill. I imagine a parallel universe where they are still alive and we would talk to each other, and I would play MMORPGs with my cousin because he would have been cured of his partial blindness and he could see again.

I miss my cousin. I truly do. I truly truly miss him. His death has been the death that has affected me the most. It is at his funeral that I have ever shed the most tears for anyone no longer alive. I am usually not a crier at funerals, because I truly believe that they have left a suffering life and have gone on to be with our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. I don't know why, with all the cynicism I have towards religion, it is basic things like these that I still choose to believe in.

But I miss my cousin. I really do. I remember the world that he introduced me to. The world of fantasy and dragons and dungeons and games and anime and books. It was truly an amazing world, and one that really changed my life. It was my cousin who introduced me to and lent me his copy of Final Fantasy VII, and until today I am still a Final Fantasy fan, and my favorite of the series is still Final Fantasy VII. I am just glad that he is with God now, and no longer need to suffer the pain and suffering of this world, but still, I miss him very much.

I miss my aunt too. Now my uncle got to know this new girlfriend and she would sit next to him just the way my aunt used to do. But it's different. Not only is she different from my aunt in terms of character, I feel that she will never take the place of my aunt, ever, at least not in my aunt. I will never see and recognize her the way I see and recognize my aunt. My aunt is special, and no one can replace her. I believe that my uncle and my living cousin feels this too. It's just that sometimes it's important to move on, but moving does not mean forgetting those who have passed on.

I imagine that in a parallel universe, they are still alive. And we would sit round the dinner table and have crabs and what not, and we would talk about different things in our lives. My cousin and I would talk about some MMORPG or game that we are playing, and my aunt would ask me about how I am doing in school and what I want to do in the future and I would tell her that I am doing fine and that I planning to work in the government when I graduate. And she would tell me in chinese, "Oh, good, good." And then my cousin would give his comment about working in the government and what he feels about it. And then my uncle would grab a dish for my aunt and he would say a joke and we would all laugh, and then my aunt would hit him jokingly and say that he never grows up, and how his friends always call him 开心果 (Happy Fruit).

When I get to Heaven one day, I wish that I can see them and hear them talk about how it has been like up in Heaven, and we spend all eternity having these nice and simple dinners together.

Happiness

It seems to be widely believed that people who know they are going to die soon tend to lead happier, and more fulfilling lives.

Perhaps, if we live our lives thinking that there is a possibility of us breathing our last the next day... perhaps, then we will live our lives happy, because there is no longer any point in being unhappy.

From the battlefield

Hi everybody, it's been over three months. Does anybody miss the blogger me? I don't know who actually reads this blog now, but I still keep it because it holds a lot of memories for me. It's sort of like an autobiography, in a very weird sense. Blogger tells me that there are 19 people following the blog, but the thing is I don't know any of the 19. So, hi my 19 followers! Thank you for being interested in what I write, I really do hope to get to know you guys.

Anyway, why I am here? It's the middle of my exam period. Three papers down and two more to go. Not the best time to come blogging after a three months hiatus. But well, Blogger sent me an email saying that if I don't migrate over to some new system that they've got, they're gonna wipe out all my data. Hell, this blog's been around for almost 8 years now, I udon't want my data to get all wiped out. So yeah, I sort of did the migration thing and thought I might as well come and post something.

My life's been like a machine these days. Just running and running according to a sort of system. School, research, church, girlfriend, friends, family. I don't have much happening in my life. Just a lot of reading and writing, reading and writing. An occasional jog once in a while to get my mind off things, meeting my girlfriend for a nice meal or a simple movie in the house. That's about it.

Academia is slowly killing me. I'm so grade-oriented now that I am getting closer to graduation. And it doesn't help that I am a borderline first-class. Being that just puts so much pressure on me because I don't wanna spoil it right at the end of the race. It would really suck if over the next two semesters I drop back to being second-upper-class again. It would really really suck. And that's why I'm working my ass off to try and score as many As as possible, and that's not exactly a very easy thing to do. I'm not exactly very bright - I scored 18 points in my 'O' levels and in the 'A' levels, my grades were a horrible A, C, E. ACE, yeah I know the joke, but it wasn't a joke back in 2007. It was my future on the line. And it is only through God's grace that I somehow made it into university. And now I'm in university, it is through God's grace again that I'm on a run for first-class honours.

If there is anything that university has taught me, it is to bring me into focus. Focus on what I want for myself and the future, and then go for it. Never mind if I fall or fail, as long as I give it my best shot. The most important thing is to decide on what I want, and then go for it. It's like running a race. Back in the secondary school and JC days, I had no clue about what I want in the future. So I was just running aimlessly. And because of that, I didn't run very well. But now, I really can see the finishing line ahead of me. My dreams, my future. And I have to run for that. It's just two semesters now, and the run is becoming very tiring.

Research is confusing and difficult. Even after like nearly 7 months into the research, I only have a very small understanding of my research area. The topic is just so huge and deep, and the readings are really not easy to understand. But I try. It's all about trying now.

A few things that I'm looking forward to at this moment: the end of my exams, the arrival of some parcels that I ordered online, going for some epic movie screenings (Avengers, yes), and my summer internships.

Just can't wait.

what makes us cry

"Italian critic Franco Moretti has argued, for example, that literature that makes
us cry operates via a special manipulation of temporality: what triggers our crying
is not just the sadness or suffering of the character in the story but a very precise
moment when characters in the story catch up with and realize what the audience
already knows. We cry, Moretti argues, not just because the characters do, but at
the precise moment when desire is finally recognized as futile. The release of
tension produces tears - which become a kind of homage to a happiness that is
kissed goodbye. Pathos is thus a surrender to reality but it is a surrender that pays
homage to the ideal that tried to wage war on it."

- Linda Williams, "Film Bodies: Gender, Genre, and Excess"

a trip that spanned across two years

Happy New Year everybody!

Holidays are coming to an end for me, school is going to start in another 2 days time and I just returned from the land of Vietnam.

The countdown to 2012 was done in Vietnam, proving to be the first time I did a countdown in a foreign country, and it was pretty interesting experience (I can't put a finger down on whether it was surreal, but it might have been). I wrote previously about the concept of time and how it feels so real and yet so unreal - that was exactly how I felt when I was in Hanoi counting down to 2012 with 90% Vietnamese and 10% foreigners; I was pretty sure there were plenty of Singaporeans with me as well, at least, there were three other Singaporeans with me for sure.

The time zone in Vietnam is GMT +7, while in Singapore it is GMT +8, so technically we were an hour behind everyone in Singapore while we were up north. It was 11pm in Vietnam when everyone in Singapore reached 2012, and in a weird and small way, I felt it was 2012 too. Because deep down in my heart, even when I was in Hanoi, I felt and I knew I was a Singaporean. It is so hard to think of oneself as a local when you are in Hanoi, unlike a city such as Taipei where the language is not an issue. It felt as if everyone in Singapore has gone on ahead without us, to a 2012 that we were still an hour away.

But then, when the countdown began in Hanoi's city center next to the Hoan Kiem Lake and the sparklers started burning (there were no fireworks, which proved to be a disappointment; I wonder if I have gotten too used to fireworks back at home), I felt a sense of connection, like the New Year is the same for everyone. Everyone becomes delighted at the New Year, though for what reasons I do not exactly know. It is just the act of counting down together, dancing and singing on the streets that somehow connected us together.

And this, in a small way, brought us connection back to everyone in Singapore.

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Vietnam surprised me. And I surprised myself.

I suppose I could sum the trip up like that; although it does not do justice to sum anything that lasted 6 days into 7 words.

To be frank, I wasn't that excited before I touched down in the country. It was a country that I never thought I was going to visit, the language is unfamiliar to me, I don't know what I was looking forward to in a country such as Vietnam, in a city such as Hanoi. There isn't much to do anyway in a city where its main attractions are a lake, a mausoleum and museums. Of course, you can always top this up with pubbing, which technically can be found in any city. Halong Bay, with its status as a UNESCO Heritage Site, didn't really excite me either. I'm not really a sucker for beautiful landscapes anyway, and a thousand similar rock outcrops didn't sound like a prospect.

And for such low expectations, Vietnam certainly didn't disappoint. In fact, she surprised me. Sure, there really wasn't much to do in Hanoi. Halong Bay didn't have anything more than just rocky outcrops and mountains and caves. However, it was the Vietnamese people who captured my heart while I was there.

Our trip was divided technically into three parts: city tour of Hanoi, nature tour of Halong Bay, and a closing tour in Hanoi.

In the city tour, we went museum touring, looked at Ho Chi Ming's body in the mausoleum, did a count down, walked around the lake, shopped and ate. Shopping isn't too bad; I'm not much of a shopper but I found myself buying the most out of the four of us who were there in the first three days. I bought a beanie, and then a T-shirt, and then a sling bag. The sling bag was probably the only cultural Vietnamese item that I bought for myself, and it was my favourite buy.

We were, of course, scammed while we were in Hanoi. I wouldn't say SCAMMED really, but it was more like we were overcharged for things that we paid for. It was not unexpected. In Vietnam, you have a 99% chance of being scammed/overcharged the moment you open your mouth and speak in English, even if you are Asian and look pretty much like a Vietnamese. The only way to lower the chances of being overcharged is to speak their language.

It was the same feeling in Halong Bay - the feeling of being exploited and overcharged for something that is worth only a little. The food wasn't that fantastic on the tour (sometimes it was bland), drinks were not included and the tour wasn't that organised anyway. We went trekking and the guide wasn't even with us, which might be a good thing because it made the experience more exciting and adventurous. We went for a massage and it really wasn't that great anyway.

However, there was one thing that redeemed the trip for me, and in a way, changed me - the people.

Sure, they may be exploiting us because we couldn't speak Vietnamese. They may be overcharging us because we don't know what the hell was going on. But then, they were just making a living. Besides, its not like they were really scamming us. They are just charging a higher price than usual. Vietnamese are poor people, way poorer than Singaporeans, and that extra US$2 could have meant a lot to them. It could have gotten them a good meal for once, while to me, S$3 could just have gotten a plate of chicken rice.

It isn't much, when you think about it. When I got to see the smiles on the faces of the people, I really began to feel so happy. Vietnamese aren't bad people, they are just poor. And it takes so little just to bless them, and I don't see why I shouldn't.

When we finally got back to Hanoi from Halong Bay on the last day of our trip, I began to see Vietnam in a different light. They were nice people.

It's so easy to see them as horrible who are just out to scam us when we are with other tourists, especially those from the West. It's so easy to just feel horrible about the trip and think that Vietnam sucks when we keep complaining and busking ourselves in complaints and more complaints.

In Hanoi, as I began to look at the locals differently, I somehow managed to see that they aren't as bad as others might say they are. It became easier to shop when bargaining isn't just to bring the price lower, but to also interact with the locals in a more fun and meaningful way.

I suppose the one most memorable moment for me, was when I was sold a pack of snacks for 50000 Dong. It sure wasn't worth that much, and I could guess as much as I interacted with those who sold me that packet of snacks. The one selling was an old lady, and there were like two or three other younger Vietnamese with her too. The old lady couldn't speak English, so the other Vietnamese were translating for her (she was just peddling the snacks, and it just so happens that we were at a shop where the younger Vietnamese were). They were laughing to each other as I paid up the 50000 Dong, which sort of means I have been made a fool of, and so was the old lady. However, for the old lady, her laugh wasn't just because I have paid 50000 Dong for snacks, but because she managed to make so much money, she could probably enjoy a a better meal for once.

50000 Dong is only S$3. It wasn't a big deal for me and S$3 was worth it to make somebody's day.

For what I expected from Vietnam, I was really surprised - both by the people, and by how I changed my attitude to them.

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I didn't believe anyone who told me that I looked like a Vietnamese, until a Vietnamese told me the same.