Today I fell in love...

Bits and pieces always makes a big whole. That's what I think. Like small pieces of puzzle forming a full picture. Like butter, eggs and flour into a freshly baked cake. All coming together and filling the pockets of your senses.

So tonight, I decide to write a note on how I fell in love with the smallest things in my daily life that I too often take for granted and realising that those little things are the very essence that fits into my life and here's why. 

Today I fell in love with mornings and breakfast. I am no morning person, waking up is almost a chore. But the last two days, I've woken up feeling fine and heading out for breakfast. Ok going to breakfast venue isn't so near, about a10-15 minute taxi ride. Like today, I got there with an old friend and sat there drinking coffee, finishing up my eggs, potatoes and sausages and drinking coffee and mango juice. My friend sat there eating a muffin, drinking coffee and smoking a cigarette. We talked and we discussed and we laughed and smiled about good days. Nothing, not even the haboob, was going to mess with it. I fell in love with this morning specifically. That was just the start.

Then off to the next stop for brunch. Downtown to a place called Babacosta. Sitting outdoors with a nice friendly crew, all unique and funny. Cold lemon mint juice coupled with pizza slices and chicken pitta and laughter is what a good brunch is all about. Oh yeah plus some Arabic rap and hip hop and two funny things - smearing your hair with Pepsi makes it shiny and gel-like (I did ask if it works with Diet Pepsi too) and counting sugar particles when you're bored will be a new trend. So yes, again I fell in love with the beauty of brunch with friends.

When you have two other ladies to spend time with primping and pruning your nails and toes, then you're in luck. Like me. A happy lady (and gentleman) would find real joy and satisfaction in having your nails and feet done. Particularly in the company of two lovely friends. In anticipation of my upcoming European summer vacation, I picked the brightest pink. The finishing touch was a flower henna on my both palms.The icing on the cake is three girls waiting for their henna to dry and trying to dig in their bags for a cigarette - with much effort and spastic finger movements, we managed and sat in the backyard having a puff. Add a dash of gossip and giggly talk and you're set for a good feeling evening. That said, I fell in love with my nails and the simplicity of pampering oneself in the midst of madness of everyday life (the company of cool folks also added extra flavouring).

Then what did we do? Off to the Goethe Institute to catch an exposition. Out in the open air, drums beating, funny jokes and me being me in my freshly painted nails topped with my bright pink flower on my top makes a big difference to an otherwise regular evening. My own favourite line was "Sweety, do I look stress to you with this pink nails and flower?" Met familiar faces and new ones and dishing out "I Heart Kadugli" stickers with a proud smile left me with a satisfying evening. I spoke of where I've been with a tinge of sadness but also pride in what it has given me as person and of hopes to return someday soon. It's no more a secret that  I love Kadugli (and I've got the stash, if you know what I mean).

To top the evening, after a simple, funny ride home was the man I am in love with. Every evening or night, we skype ourselves silly. Some days aren't always easy but most days are filled with silly liners and discussing the distances of the sun and the black hole or the milky way or recalling the days when we stumbled home in Istanbul or sharing music. I shared Margaret Whiting last night. It's a good feeling to go to bed with these thoughts in your head and heart. I admit love isn't easy, and so is living apart. But one needs to decide to be in it and do your utmost to make it work - simple. And so I decide today that's what it is and that's what it'll be. Relationships are hard work but I want it today and tomorrow and many more days to come. So tonight as I close this down and finished my drink, I say I once again fell in love with this man just as I did when we drank wine under the stars in the Seychelles. It's super cheesy but hey that's just the way it happened.    

See the beauty of the little bits and pieces. 

Lucky

Jason Mraz and Colbie Vaillat - Lucky

I am a late discoverer of Jason Mraz. I have listened to him before but never quite took notice or cared much. Then I came across this song when a friend back home was shared this song on his wedding day (a homemade video no less) and which I thought was very touching and simply beautiful.

The Nuba Mountains - Faces and Places

I miss being in Kadugli and continue to wonder what it's like right now. I miss the faces, the peoples and the days. Rumi writes,"Don't grieve.Anything you lose comes round in another form."

My thoughts and hearts are with the Nuba Mountains.

Dead Sea, Amman

(Picture courtesy of RD)

Let the beauty of what you love be what you do - Rumi

Joshua Walters: On being just crazy enough | Video on TED.com

Joshua Walters: On being just crazy enough | Video on TED.com

Comedian Joshua Walters, who's bipolar talks about being mentally 'ill' and mentally 'skilled'. I've always been fascinated by societal need to label a person with a mental illness and that desire to pigeonhole and correct that disease. Our obsession with wanting to soothe these so-called sickness back to normal - then again where is that fine line that divides normality, manic and creative genius or is there? He might be right to say there's no such thing as being crazy, just that some others are more sensitive. Or that everyone is just a little bit mad. A little bit mad wouldn't be so bad. Well, this talk isn't particularly a performance (in the regular sense) but I think it sparks some thinking in me, which I wanted to share here today.

In Mad Times

Was watching the film "Blow" about the drug trafficker George Jung or "Boston George" - had a pretty quote by Johnny Depp there and it goes like this, "May the wind will always be on your back and the sun upon your face and may the winds of destiny carry you aloft to dance with the stars."

Interestingly, there's also an Irish quote that says, "May the road rise up to meet you, may the wind be always at your back, may the sun shine warm upon your face, and the rain fall soft upon your fields, and until we meet again, May God hold you in the palm of His hand."

And mine reads like this:
"In mad times today, put down your weapons, stop this drunkenness
Your madness is killing everything. Hush, quieten down. Let your body and soul rest
In hopes and prayers, let the madness stop."

Thats's for the Nuba Mountains today. 

Goodbyes in Kadugli

Yesterday, few friends and myself came around to say goodbye (again) to a friend who's leaving back home for Tehran. He spent about 3 months here. Perhaps a short time but it was still sad to see a friend leaving.

Tonight, we had dinner and said goodbye to another friend, who is returning to Mazar Al-Sharif after more than 4 years out here in Kadugli. It wasn't easy. He was my first friend out here and over the time I've been here, has been nothing less but exceptionally kind and warm. Certainly it made the goodbye a sad occasion not just for me but the many others around us as well.

Anyone working in the development world can attest to the fact that we all say goodbye to people we care about far too many times. No matter where and when, it's always hard. Especially when you live out in a small community with a handful of souls you count as dear friends. You can say it's part and parcel of the nature of what we do and where we are. Perhaps. But as I've written before, I have definitely developed a strong distaste for goodbyes. I don't know if one needs to make a ceremony of it. What I know is that goodbyes are never simple and never happy no matter what the future presumes to hold.

We say goodbye, wish each other luck and promised to stay in touch and many of us know that in the development industry, somehow, we may end up finding each other again. It's still a small world after all. But my point is, if we reflect on every goodbye we say, we know a part of our heart goes to the other. Those friends that you spent days at meetings with and nights laughing and merry making - they take a part of you away.

This time around, while it is sad, I feel a tinge of my heart hardening. I know I ought not to make a human tragedy about my friends leaving. They are all either leaving to be with their families or found something better. And in the next few weeks, more people will go, leaving me to wonder what my life will look like in the next few months or even weeks. I dread the quietness, the change and above all, the ominous loneliness that comes along with living in a small community as this. Each one of us here feels like a part of a family, a dysfunctional one no matter but a part of something close and we bonded in the time we are here. I always say it's a bunch of misfits put together. I learnt to care and look after my friends and they do the same for me. I would be rotten if I say I didn't. They've made my life here ever more pleasant and comfortable when I first stepped off the UN flight, all new and bright-eyed.

Which brings me to the fact that no matter how fulfilling this industry or job is, it'll never be the same without the very souls around it. The ones who helped you, who listened to your whining and complaints, and your heartbreaking stories. So many things we've shared - family photos, cooking dinner, hiking out in the mountains, roaming about town looking for what-nots and so on. Professionally and socially.

I envy people whose lives are normal in many parts of the world - finish work, meet friend, go to the cinemas and so forth. Lives I sometimes now think is foreign to me but secretly yearn. People like to say that our lives as development workers are exciting, seeing different things and doing our small part for humanity. Many people get into this for very different reasons. For me, after almost 4.5 years away from normality of what I used to have is perhaps taking its toll. Of course others in my industry might feel otherwise. I'm only speaking of my own experiences.

If this was anywhere else in a developed place, I might be less saddened tonight but I'm in Kadugli, almost in the middle of nowhere and every other day and week, someone is going out for good and I'll probably never see their faces again or for a very long time. That makes all the difference of why being out here is sometimes heart wrenching. Here, these friends of mine gave me a life and showed me what it means to truly care about the other. If I've learnt nothing else out here, that much I have.

Kopernik and Igniting Creativity

I couldn' seem to upload this video but here is the link - Toshi Nakamura, Founder of Kopernik at TEDx Tokyo talk. Having worked directly with Toshi and volunteering with Kopernik, am proud to say this talk was inspiring.

http://tedxtokyo.com/tedxtokyo-2011-enter-the-unknown/program/toshi-nakamura/

Murakami's Spaghetti

My current read on a Saturday afternoon as this is Murakami's Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman. I have been jumping books in the last few weeks, from Jack Kerouc's Dharma Bums to Dambisa Moyo's Dead Aid. Different days, different needs I say. 

In one of the 24 short stories, The Year of Spaghetti, the character makes spaghetti every day, every week and for a long time. Cooks and eats alone, convinced that it's best enjoy alone. It's a simple story really, revolves around the character and spaghetti cooking and one telephone call. 

But I thought the best part of the story is when it ends with this:

Durum semolina, golden wheat wafting in Italian fields.

Can you imagine how astonished the Italians would be if they knew what they were exporting in 1971 was really loneliness?

4.5 years

I have been away from Singapore/home for almost 4.5 years now. Since January 2006. Fuck that is a damn long time.

18 months was spent studying and living in Canberra, lasted close to 2 years in Sierra Leone, 10 months freezing and sweating it out in Beijing and now almost 7 months in Kadugli. In between I have spent time in Europe, roaming about.

Actually today I celebrate my 7 months in the ‘doog. Deserve more than a pat on my back for being out here that long.

People occasionally ask me when I am returning home. Many Sudanese asked me this question and it puzzles them whenever I mentioned not yet or that every R&R, I just travelled somewhere else but home. I never really got the question: why did you leave home?

Obviously by now, I have accepted that the concept of ‘their’ home and ‘my’ home differs widely. Agreeably, there can be many explanations for this, practiced answers and deep philosophical ramblings on what we mean by home. But let’s not go there, least not today. I have a secret perfect answer that I’ve always wanted to use but never. It’s a quote by Maya Angelou, “The ache for home lives in all of us, the safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned.”

I left because I wanted something different, like there was devilish inner voice whispering, “Get out, life is more than a paycheck in the civil service or shopping down Orchard Road..” so I stepped out of the rut and now utterly grateful that I made that first move. And I have gotten a lot from all the years even if I keep walking in circles, committing the same mistakes all over again. I have lived in places others only wonder about, slept under the stars, sometimes living on the charity of my friends and family and experience an almost full life. It’s never always rosy and there weren’t always happy moments and smiley faces all the times. The more you go, the harder it becomes to maintain human relationships with the ones you care about. There were many days when I was surrounded by people I didn’t like very much and happenings I rather banished from memory. I am not always proud of some things I’ve done but there’s no other way other than to move along. Right. 

I’ve got good things this year. The strengthening of friendship with some of the most heartwarming people I’ve ever met in my life, which deserves more than just my mere note of thanks. And meeting a man I love and continue to grow in love with. I pray that I’ll be lucky this time but it’s funny how I know luck has nothing to do with this. Some things are just meant to happen.

I haven’t come full circle yet; think I will keep walking on the circle I’ve drawn over and over again. And as I do this time, I will think of warm sunshine, clear blue water and pistachio ice-cream.

Dub FX - Love Me Or Not

This is my absolute favourite song from this talented street performer/recording artist hailing from Melbourne. Dub FX and Flower Fairy doing their USA tour starting July 2011. Check them out here
I couldn't find a live version of this. This might have to do. Think his best live performance must be this one
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UiInBOVHpO8 "Love Someone"

Kadugli Hipsters

This shot was taken from a friend, HP. Love my hipster shades, sitting up on the roof and the metal bowl to the left has the best mixture of lime, sugar, mint and water (I think). Delicious evening. Kadugli, Sudan 2011

Cool cats of Kadugli

Please meet my cool cat friend and sanity pill - Nell.

                                      

Meet the people

My last post centred pretty much on the town and general sentiments I have about K-Town. But what's a place without its people or the very faces that defined and bring it to life,eh? So I thought I'll quickly do a quick intro into the familiar faces I have come to enjoy and of whom you might hear of every so often. And I hope when these faces read this posting, they won't be too offended that I have discretely talked about them...

I am only using initials here, for respect and discretion.

NB - At 27 years old, from Newcastle, she's one smart ass chick. She works for an NGO. She probably knows the history and politics of Sudan at the back of her hand and in her sleep, she might dream of it, who knows? But she is super cool, walks around town with her hair tight up in a bun on her head and her leather sling bag - sometimes cigarettes dangling out her mouth. She likes to drink Coca Cola and taught me to mix rum and 7-up. I am glad we share the same interests in many things except men. I like her a lot having 'solidified our friendship' after being thrown into a man-made pool and I think she is pretty.

TT - A young Japanese and with an attitude to match. Often rebelious (although unintentional I imagine), TT is great company. At professional meetings, he is serious but outside, he's fun to hang out with. His head has grown bigger since he first arrived here, he cuts his own hair with help and speaks more like an American than any Japanese I know. He also speaks Arabic with a tinge of a Japanese accent, enjoys soy sauce, plays the guitar and I suspect dreams of being a member of a Latino gang.

JH - I probably see JH more than I should. He is my colleague and lives upstairs in the guesthouse. We share office space and I await a point when we actually might get sick of each other. JH is cool though. He has scar under his right eye (I haven't ask why), wears a lot of khaki, holds various nationalities, loves cats and Arsenal football team. He listens to a lot of rock and roll (I think) as he's always air-drumming in the office.

HP - Spanish, smart, tough and pretty. HP is like one cool chick I imagine myself to be in another life. Currently she's teaching me to ride a motorbike. She makes amazing dinner, has a dog call Small Man (not that small), roam around the state collecting data. We watch a fair bit of movies at her place.

Joe - In his late 50's, Joe has gone through 2 heart bypass and is still smoking and drinking like a fish. He cooks excellent dinners and owes a really cool hang out where we go to. He's Egyptian I think, loves his monkeys (Sam, Pikolo and Lulu) and 2 dogs (Sam and Diego) and various birds. He's a lonely man sometimes I think especially in the day. I think he is an interesting man and I had a great conversation with him one night under the stars.

MMS - From Afghanistan, MMS has been around K-Town for almost 4 years. He is a nice bloke, kind and extremely helpful. He likes to salsa, plays the guitar and like TT, loves an evening of karaoke and if you ask him for a favour, he's happy to help out, no questions asked.

M - Another Afghani in town. M is your hard-beaten, tough and super chilled out friend that you could really always have an evening with. At 33, his life story is perhaps the most interesting one I have ever come across in my life. He has such an easy attitude and like his fellow country man MMS, if you asked for help, he doesn't turn you down. I mean he tries to be helpful.

So these are the characters that I see around here and spend time with. Looking at it, they each fit into a story, a novel one could craft with Kadugi being the backdrop of it all.

The 2010 World Humanitarian Day project

A note of thanks to the ones I love

When you read this post, I am no longer living in China. I have left Beijing in early July without much consideration or thought. I only know it was time to go and I had to go. The past few months have been an unbelievable journey of epic proportions, at least in my view. It was harder than I imagined it would be and most of all, I truly understand now what it means to be alone and lonely. The man I was and perhaps still in love with left me with nothing more to say. Nothing but just bucket loads of pain and sorrow. I am human and I need explanations to understand what's going on. But I had none. What I write here is not about to be a rant or anger or pain towards him or what happened. I have accepted the situation and whatever it means, I will learn to live with it everyday. Importantly, I will be all right.He will be all right. We are both okay.

People fall in love and people split up and the cycle keeps its wheels turning over and over again. It is life, isn't it? Khalil Gibran taught me that very same thing that gives us joy are often the very same things that brings us pain. The last thing I want to be is bitterness. In the past few weeks, when friends and acquaintances heard about what happened, they have always reacted with a rather sad, sorry-but you-will-get-over-it look which I found rather amusing. It seems that there are certain appropriate behaviours that comes along with a broken heart. To shout and yell, to go get wasted with your girlfriends, to sob until the cows come home and so on. I did nothing of that sort and at first it makes me feel really strange. These are social norms and I supposed I ought to react as expected and then everyone will then fall into their respective roles and life goes on as it should.

I couldn't and right now, I can safely say with all the confidence in my heart that I am glad I behaved and did it the way I wanted it to be. Some may say it is perhaps not healthy to repress the anger and sadness. Whatever. To me, it is important to feel and understand it but who's to say what's the best way to deal with it.

I wrote this note not with the intention to discuss or even reflect upon what happened. That will happen at some point I guess. BUT I wrote this because in view of what happened, something else happened too. In my quiet grief, I found the unexpected. I found and discovered back the family and friends I had and what they really really mean to me. New friends that stood by me and reminded me of my own strength, old familiar faces that opened their homes and hearts with so much generosity and warmth and family that remained true to their word. I could not have gone through the days without them. NO, I couldn't. From the very little gestures, cigarette rolling, phone calls, emails, skype dates, gchat to nice lil cards, and dinner to all-the-best-Salone-music CD. I had it and it felt GOOD: I felt for the first time in a LONG time, I felt things are going to be better and I am going to be just fine. I hope they know they mean a lot to me. Everyone of them. I am humbled by their kindness and will forever be in debt. I take this opportunity to say thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Stay in touch, post on my Wall

I confessed. When I have time on the internet, I spent a bit more time than I should browsing through the profiles of people I know (or don't know) on Facebook. Most times, I do it to check on what people I know have been up to, which isn't exactly an ideal way of keeping in touch. For most parts, I don't care for more than let's say 10 friends out of my 360 "friends" on FB. And I think that's the way with a LOT of people.

Now, you asked: what is the fucking problem you have? It's not really a problem, just that I am a little disturbed by how social network sites like Facebook, Twitter (do we really want to know what someone is doing at this time and this hour and what's happening later in 2 hours? do we really?), Mutiply among others creates this illusion of a reality that encourages and deceives people to believe that this is an OK way to stay in touch. That it is ALRIGHT and ACCEPTABLE to stay in touch by wall posting. Or throw silly virtual gifts at you. Or whatever application that comes along. Sadly, sometimes I feel like I am one of these millions who do believe that it is fine to stay in touch with people you care via FB wall postings and pokes. I stopped short at that though and absolutely have no patience with those who bombard my account with requests to come join them on fucking Farmville or Mafia Wars.

I am grateful for the fact that there are means to stay in touch no matter where you are and by whatever means, even if it means posting 'Hello' on FB. But I also know how superficial this is. There is no depth beyond that. It's a mere 'hello' and many times it feels cold and far. Lately, I asked a friend whom I know fairly well why I haven't heard from him and he replied that it's a bit hard to stay in touch since I don't get access to FB now that I live in China. Yes, I live behind the Great Firewall but not say... Timbuktu. I don't think that registered very well with him though. Then I thought to myself, what was I expecting? An email perhaps. Even then emails are a touch-and-go, a veneer of intimacy. Nothing more to that. Nothing real to that.

Obviously the way we live today is different. Before we write long letters and snail mail. Today we email. Or sms. Or twitter. Today it is only a click away. Just a click away. Click. The beauty of that click. The simplicity that comes along with it.

But I often miss the sentimental value of writing that letter, when care is taken to express what is being felt. Of having that piece of paper in my hand, the smell of ink and the thoughts that traced the words along with it. I often wander aloud what it would be like when I grow old and to have yellowed dusty notes and letters all tied in a bundle sitting on my lap. It is indeed a very romanticised picture but why shouldn't it be?

This is not a anti-FB rant. I often thought about the things that could have been and perhaps missed them too much. Today I feel like I missed being in touch with real people. People I care about. It is a simple, clear feeling. A feeling of intimacy and closeness. One that I won't quite get by sitting behind the screen and clicking away. 

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.

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”.