an echo turning 28

I just turned 28 recently and have developed a rather distant attitude towards turning a year older. It's just another number and nothing really has changed, has it? My thoughts are still repeating the same patterns and my emotions and opinions on a lot matters remains thin and sometimes too familiar. I am not surprised. But the more I think about getting older and where I've been, what I've done and what I've achieved, I understood slowly that perhaps my life or this life is just merely starting to form itself into something more. I like to believe that each year, each day I grow a little bit older, I've lived a tiny bit more and in that presence, I've touched the lives of others, have found pieces of joy and laughter and took my time to breathe. To keep myself wandering and pondering, I have set myself a list of things I would like to achieve and do and here they are:

1. I would like to keep writing, to explore my words, expose their simplicity and hopefully add more depth. This is both for my personal and professional development. I want to tug and pull at the words I choose and the thoughts that come along with it.

2. I want to seriously get back or be involved in theatre once again. I have missed it and neglected it for far too long. I long for days of rigourous exploration of the creative soul.

3. Speak fluent Mandarin. Having started this rather long term project, I am giving myself until the mid of 2010 to be able to speak fluent-enough-Mandarin. I am not talking about being able to write or read fluently but to speak well enough to carry a decent conversation that goes beyond the weather and ordering food in a restaurant.

4. I would like to use time to seriously consider and explore the idea of pursuing a PhD broadly in areas relating to either communications or theatre and its relations/implications on the community and societal decision making process (a very broad broad idea!). I have no idea exactly what the intellectual puzzle of such a research would be but I would like to explore in depth. I might use this space to tinkle about with some ideas.

5. Share my thoughts more with others. This is more personal for me. I learned I need to share more with my loved ones and people I care about. That it's okay to feel vulnerable and trust others to let them come in and hold you when things are difficult. 

Beijing, China

Friends, after 2 years in Sierra Leone, I have packed my bags and moved to Beijing where T and I are pursuing greats efforts to learn the intricacies of the Chinese language. More to come!

Meet Robert

Meet Robert. Isn't he adorable? He's very old and half-blind in one eye (left, you see?). He's also deaf. He enjoys basking in the sun in the front compound of the house on th street and cannot hear the honking of cars. Being deaf, I guess he cannot also hear himself mews. He's still a pretty cute cat with black fur and white paws. I hear when he was much younger, he used to the neigbourhood gangster-cat or so. Cat rumours.

The girl with the paper umbrella

I really like this! Found it on the wall right beside The Wohnzimmer in Bremen.

I miss you Salone

Since I left Salone, I realised with all my heart that I missed it. I mean I was after all there for 2 years right straight out of graduate school. And so, I asked myself today what is it about it that I really missed? I know past postings have shown that I do have some grumbles about living in Salone (I am after all from Singapore so excuse me on that note sometimes).

And I thought the biggest thing I missed about Salone are the memories and the faces I have come to know and love and the very people whose lives have affected mine in small and varied ways. If they are reading this, I want them to know that they are indeed special and will always be. Here are some snapshots of the faces and fun I'm going to miss for a long time...

Random party nights is always fun

Dancing butt cheek to butt cheek as demonstrated by Nick and Eri

Costume parties

My loyal friend and side-kick Joe

Nights at The Office

Dressing up in similar T-shirts

The 129th B-days for Eri, Yui and Natsuko

Conversations about the female body with pregnant Eri

My colleagues at UNDP - Natsuko and David

Anna Quindlen

I was browsing around on the Internet and found this, which I thought was beautiful. It's a speech given by Pulitze Prize winner, Anna Quindlen
*******

“I’m a novelist. My work is human nature. Real life is all I know. Don’t Ever confuse the two, your life and your work. You will walk out of here this afternoon with only one thing that no one else has. There will be hundreds of people out there with your same degree: there will be thousands of people doing what you want to do for a living. But you will be the only person alive who has sole custody of your life. Your particular life. Your entire life. Not just your life at a desk, or your life on a bus, or in a car, or at the computer. Not just the life of your mind, but the life of your heart. Not just your bank accounts but also your soul.

People don’t talk about the soul very much anymore. It’s so much easier to write a resume than to craft a spirit. But a resume is cold comfort on a winter’s night, or when you’re sad, or broke, or lonely, or when you’ve received your test results and they’re not so good.

Here is my resume: I am a good mother to three children. I have tried never to let my work stand in the way of being a good parent. I no longer consider myself the centre of the universe. I show up. I listen. I try to laugh. I am a good friend to my husband. I have tried to make marriage vows mean what they say. I am a good friend to my friends and they to me. Without them, there would be nothing to say to you today, because I would be a cardboard cut out. But I call them on the phone, and I meet them for lunch. I would be rotten, at best mediocre at my job if those other things were not true.

You cannot be really first rate at your work if your work is all you are. So here’s what I wanted to tell you today: Get a life. A real life, not a manic pursuit of the next promotion, the bigger pay cheque, the larger house. Do you think you’d care so very much about those things if you blew an aneurysm one afternoon, or found a lump in your breast?

Get a life in which you notice the smell of salt water pushing itself on a breeze at the seaside, a life in which you stop and watch how a red-tailed hawk circles over the water, or the way a baby scowls with concentration when she tries to pick up a sweet with her thumb and first finger. Get a life in which you are not alone. Find people you love, and who love you. And remember that love is not leisure, it is work. Pick up the phone. Send an email. Write a letter. Get a life in which you are generous. And realize that life is the best thing ever, and that you have no business taking it for granted. Care so deeply about its goodness that you want to spread it around. Take money you would have spent on beer and give it to charity. Work in a soup kitchen. Be a big brother or sister. All of you want to do well. But if you do not do good too, then doing well will never be enough.

It is so easy to waste our lives, our days, our hours, and our minutes. It is so easy to take for granted the color of our kids’ eyes, the way the melody in a symphony rises and falls and disappears and rises again. It is so easy to exist instead of to live.

I learned to live many years ago. I learned to love the journey, not the destination. I learned that it is not a dress rehearsal, and that today is the only guarantee you get. I learned to look at all the good in the world and try to give some of it back because I believed in it, completely and utterly. And I tried to do that, in part, by telling others what I had learned. By telling them this: Consider the lilies of the field. Look at the fuzz on a baby’s ear. Read in the back yard with the sun on your face. Learn to be happy. And think of life as a terminal illness, because if you do, you will live it with joy and passion as it ought to be lived”.

London, Paris, Bremen

London, London right the day I arrived with the original Salone crew

So I have left Freetown about a month or so ago. Since then, I have been in London catching up for a few days, spent a delicious evening with the orginal Salone crew which includes Gio, Cwistle, Kat, Michelle and even that guy.. Bimbola was there! That was a good except heading to a club called Passing Clouds didn't turn out so exciting. I was dying for some dancing action, the boogie woogie and all I got was people twirling, hips-swnging and gyrating to an overdose of Lebanese beats - not exactly what I envisioned for a night out. But otherwise it was cool to see the guys right back in civilisation, in fresh pretty clothes and socks and no more patchy, mouldy outfits! *ching ching*

T bought tickets to Paris and voila.. off we went to the land of passion, romance, wine, beautiful women and men. The last time I was in Paris was 2005 but I never recalled Paris to stink - of piss! Yes, fucking yellow, dirty piss!! You walked along the streets, you smelled piss, you stepped off the metro, you smelled piss! Did I miss something here? It was as though as some point, Paris was dipped into a toilet bowl of piss. Or did someone call Piss Painter ??

So yes, Paris smelled of piss to me, old stained piss. Despite this rather unalluring factor, we had a lovely time. A really really pleasant time. We walked around a lot, eat a mountain of cheese, pate, drank wine, had salad for lunch, blah blah... all the pretty things you do when you're on vacation in Paris. The weather was so hot that I had tanned lines from the sandals I was wearing. But who cares, we are in Paris!

Side note: I noted with glee at the numerous folks lying in the hot sun, soaking up its rays, and hoping to turn honey/caramel/chocolate/carrot colour etc. Have they not heard of skin cancer and how bad roasting yourself in the sun can be? When I was living in Australia, they had adverts reminding Aussies not to tan yourself and stay out of the sun. And I thought: this is exactly why European women (not all) who tanned endlessly in the sun when they were younger get lifeless, saggy skin when they are old! Really. I think Asian owomen would agree with me here. Just look at the Asian women wearing those hats with brims that covers everything, they know what's important for old age, supple and fair skin. Ok, Asian women have another issue to deal - the constant obsession of staying fair, wait.. white is more precise and anything beige, yellow and beyond means not beautiful. It's true. I used to play sports in my teens and my grandmother used to be worried that if I get any darker, I might be thought of as Indian. Hmmm.. She was concerned that a dark skin colour would not make easier for me to find a potential husband in the near future. I have a boyfriend, still not married and I don't think my skin colour would play a factor BUT try telling that to my granny.

Ok, back to the Paris ooh la la.. I realised digression is an absolute skill I have. If only it helps in one's unemployed status. Anyway, we had such a good time until T fell sick, oh poor baby. It was flu-like symptoms and so we self-diagnosed it as swine flu. In that situation we figured it was best to ride the train back to Bremen and which is where we are right now.

Goodbye Salone, Hello World.

My last weekend in Sierra Leone and the girls came by for a pajama night with food, drinks and plenty to doll ourselves with! Beautiful!

 

Natsuko (R) is always striking some random pose, Eri (L) all glowing and pregnant.

Reiko (L), the indispensable intern and Aleks (R), our newest addition to the office

and... your latest Freetown Kabuki players.

A weekend and 4.5 working days left

Today I have a weekend left and an estimated 4.5 working days left here in Freetown. I am counting it ever so consciously because I am ready to pack my bags, go to the helipad, off to Lungi and fly off on a jetplane. I remember singing "Leaving on a Jet Plane"in the car last Thursday night for T before he left, and now just about soon enough, I get to do it for myself.

Oh brighter days, here we come.... It has been raining alligators and elephants this past week here in Freetown and it's not pleasant. So.. I cannot wait! I have been here almost 2 years and now a change would do me wonders although parts of me feel sad leaving friends and memories behind.


I made a mental note of the list of things I like and dislike about SL below as a goodbye-present to myself. Also partly to to occupy myself at work. I like that every other evening, when work is over, I can trot along to Atlantic Bar along Lumley Beach and feel like second home. They know my name (Mr Bah is the best barman!) which only serves to point out how much time I spent there. The sun would set, there would be boys playing football on the sand and all is sweet and dandy. Where else can I pay 20p for a taxi ride? Despite the shabby run down condition of the cab, it's usually a safe ride and enjoyable. I LOVE my house. It is our first home together for the last 2 years and I know we won't be able to find and afford a house that size for a long time to come. And we had fond memories of so many things there, like playing charades in not so quite sober state, playing with my pet sheep or running around the balcony trying to wash my bod Blackie.

Living in SL means you can get to some of the world's best beaches in less than an hour, it's so perfect isn't it? Drinking and eating is so cheap in SL although there is a lack of variety in my opinion. I enjoy second-hand shopping and it makes me feel oh-so-proud when I find cool bargains like a sequin evening bag that costs me 5,000 Le or about 2 dollars. I am really going to miss PZ market shopping every Friday afternoon with K and the Friday lunches at Crown before that.

While there are good things to remember, there are few others I am ready to leave behind. There is NO movie theatre, shopping malls, cafes, all the conveniences I am used to. I confessed. I come from Singapore after all, where shopping and eating are two of our national pastimes. I. I am tired at being called "white girl", hissed at and expected to answer when every guy tells you to come over. Am done with that. And I won't miss the yelling, honking, noise generally going around and the general lack of customer service.

Still - it's always mixed feelings leaving a place you've grown to enjoy and that's been kind to you.

Today I am obsessed about a rotting dead dog that is outside my office building. It's gross! I went to lunch and back after it was pouring. I had to muddle through the road which was near flooded. The waters that was bursting itself out from the garbage filled drains by the roadside washed over the dead dog's blackened body. I had to wade my feet through this slimy, brown waters just to get to the other side. 3 hours after and I peered out my window and the dead thing is still there.

The Notebook

A few years back, in my self-imposed solitary lifestyle, I wandered along the mall near my place. In typical routine, I popped into the only 2nd hand bookstore in the building. I never really cared very much for the store since they don't normally have much of a collection, it's a lot of sci-fi stacks, Japanese manga and Danielle Steel yellowed-pages love novels and so on. I don't even remember the name of the store which bothers me at times since I have an irresistible urge to pigeonhole everything I see, do, know, feel into special memory boxes in my head.

Anyway, I found a small, paperback called The Notebook by Nicholas Sparks. Not the regular book I'm used to reading but I picked it up and I fell in love with it. I am still in love with the story until today. I have watched the movie so many times that I can traced the moment visually in my head when N pulled and kissed A by the pier in the rain as he shouted, "it's not over then, it's not over now!"

It's the only Sparks book I've ever read. Really. I've never attempted to read another just so I could prolong the sanctity and sacredness of this one just a little bit longer. The Notebook holds a special place in the confines of my heart and my soul. It has taught me to relive the love I've had before and to remember the ones that have occupied me in between. I learned to cherish the love in the past, to breathe in the moments of ecstacy, to sear every moment in memory, to cry and grief, and to look forward to love in the future. Last Friday, when Tim and I celebrated our 2 years together, I thought of this book and I smiled. I told him so. I know why I bought the book then and I understood what it meant now.

In The Notebook, N wrote to A for 365 days since they parted in summer. She never responded to any of the letters and in the final letter, he wrote,

"The reason it hurts so much to separate is because our souls were connected. Maybe they always have and will be. Maybe we've lived a thousand lives before this one and in each of them we've found each other. And maybe each time, we've been forced apart for the same reasons. That means that this goodbye is both goodbye for the past ten thousand years and a prelude to what will come.

When I look at you, I see your charm and your gentleness and know they have grown stronger with every life you have lived. And I know I have spent every life before this one searching for you. Not someone like you, but you, for your soul and mine must always come together. And then, for some reason neither of us understands we were forced to to say goodbye.

I would love to tell you that everything will work out for us, and I promise to do all I can to make sure it does. But if we never meet again and this is truly goodbye, I know we will see each other again in another life. We will find each other again and maybe the stars will have changed, and we will not only love each other in that time but for all the times we had before".

Over time, I realised I don't remember the books I read. I forgot what they say, what they served to remind me of and why I had picked it up in the first place. So I decided to read this for the 2nd time over this past weekend. Each line is reflective and now that I am reading it for the 2nd time, I am beginning to see the overly interpretive nature of the characters. Each one has a layer waiting to be peeled and discovered, complex than the one before. And I'm enjoying it. I thought about it last night and each time I do, it evokes different emotions, thoughts, bringing new perspectives.

'Every story we tell about ourselves can only be told in the past tense,' notes the storyteller

Senegal

creating new days

I noted my last entry was in Feb 2009 and it is now July 2009. Almost 5 months have passed. In that time, I started working with an international organisation, somedays I slaved myself over with important duties, sometimes mediocre tasks, others I spend it rather leisurely. There are days I am proud doing what I do and I want to do more. But lately, I have become less motivated, and I am itching to be somewhere else, anywhere. I long for days of no obligations, of sunshine, breeze through my hair, open blue skies, my lover next to me and we sipping wine. We would not have to say anything. In the silence, everything is being said and nothing could go wrong.

Come August, it will be 2 years in Sierra Leone and it gives me a nauseous feeling, that I actually have been living here in that 2 years.. it's such a surreal feeling that I find it difficult to express what it all really means to me. Somedays I understood nothing my of existence here. I keep wanting to be somewhere else, where I will come alive. It could possibly be some inner inhibitions that keeps me from living it out here. But I am anxious and ready to leave. To a new and different future. One where I can spend days in creation of something more and bigger than myself perhaps.

Visiting Kent, Salone style

30 minutes from Freetown, and here we are in Kent, a typical fishing village.

That island you see in the middle is Banana Island.

Fishing boats are usually inscriped with some saying. Not just fishing boats but on poda-podas & taxis too.

 

Outside the capital, local houses typically look something like this (although this one seems abandoned, I'm not sure). Brick houses are not always the norm for all sectors of society.

So some looked like this. Made of mud and with a thatched roof. I would have love to see the insides of one!

and...  after dipping in the warm waters of one of Salone's finest beaches. This is is Bureh.

Buy the ticket and take the Ride??

 

As seen on the way to Buren Beach, Freetown. 

Richard Avedon

In Berlin, over New Year's I went to the Martin Gropius Bauhaus to view a photography exhibition by Richard Avedon, an American photographer. His works celebrated the lives of the famous and the ordinary. You see Marilyn Monroe's captured at her vulnerable moments, Tennesse Williams (whose face I never remembered), Samuel Beckett (one of my favourite playwrights), icons like Hepburn and so on and then you walked on and you see commoners whose lives you don't know (just like the above) being photographed in their grime and dirt. I find this section very fascinating, and kept walking through it. Mostly, I felt uncomfortable looking at these faces, yet at certain moments, there's something tranquil just merely observing. In these potraits he took around the States, his use (or the lack of) of lighting was definitely an interesting idea. His stark potrayal of these potraits simply made it very real, at least for me. It sure made my walk in freezing cold and getting lost while looking for the musuem all the more worthwhile.

Xmas and New Year 2008/09

Celebrating my first 'white' Xmas

Bob sleighing up at Bad Harzburg

 

Christina

Before Berlin

Schlampe at Capri Bar

 

Hello 2009! - Berlin 31/12/08

London Jan 09, with Tips and Schitz - good times o'! 

J (2nd from left): What's that?

T (1st right) : My new driver

A (2nd right): And why did you bring it to the pub?

2008-2009

I am still residing in Freetown and have spent few weeks over Xmas and New Year in Europe, which turned out to be an amazing holiday altogether. We spent much time in Bremen with Tim's family, visiting friends and just hanging out. We took a day out and spent it in the snowy hills of Bad Harzburg, a 2 hour drive from Bremen. It was my first Xmas in all of its traditional sense. There was a Christmas tree to cut and decorate, presents to wrap, goose to be roasted, food to salivate over and plenty to drink.

As this was my first winter, white Xmas, there was indeed plenty of hype. Tim and family went through so much to make it all so memorable. On top of that, my mum sent us millions of presents and it nearly took all of us about more than 2 hours for all the unwrapping to be over. New Year was spent in Berlin, shooting firecrackers, playing fussball, drinks loads and plenty of other merry making I must say. The excitement and all that merry making made us really pooped out that we decided to forgo Ryanair's flight and head back to London via Amsterdam via bus. It took us almost 11 hours from the heart of the Dutch capital all the way back to London. In spite of my petite size, sitting on a bus trying to sleep is not such a simple task. Really.

All in all, it was a grand holiday I'd say. Of all the things I remember is the warm fuzzy feeling of sitting around together, laughing and breathing in all the goodness of the season.