I really like this! Found it on the wall right beside The Wohnzimmer in Bremen.
Monday 28 September 2009
Friday 25 September 2009
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...
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
Thursday 24 September 2009
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”.
*******
“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”.
Wednesday 23 September 2009
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.
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