Next stop: Chicago

What a frantic few weeks it's been. Just when I was finally pulling myself together to start on that paper for the Tasmania conference, they informed me that the grant was not approved, and instead, I would go Chicago.

What followed was a mad scramble to make bookings for the trip and to rush out all the work needed for Chicago (and apparently, I still need to write that paper for Tasmania, even if I'm not going!). No, wait--first, I had to convince myself to go. When it became clear I would possibly be staying there and taking the flight by myself, I hesitated. It's all very new to me: my first trip to the US, first overseas conference, and first working trip. I know, I know, I was just waxing lyrical about getting lost in a foreign place in the last entry, but pontification is pontification; gettting lost in transit is quite another thing!

My work neighbour "counselled" me and told me to step out of my comfort zone and just go! He said no matter what happens, it'll turn out OK. The persistent optimist. :) I agreed with him; it would be a good experience, or at the least, edifying. I've got to learn to be more independent, and this would be a start.

I spent an entire day in the office calling 1 agency after another, chasing after some very scarce air tickets and accommodation. My office mates, seeing how frantic I was, helped out by passing me agency numbers, websites etc.

Anyway, the frenzy hasn't ended--I have papers to write, work meetings to prepare and other details to settle. That means lots of overtime for the past week and the next. I'm starting to feel the onset of sickness already. And although I still feel some apprehension, I'm looking forward to exploring the city and its tapestry of art and architecture. I just hope the jet lag won't be too bad. :)

Get lost!

I had taken 2 days off after CNY in an attempt to at least clear some of the "backlog" of leave I've accumulated. (17.5 days! To clear by May!! Don't you wish you were in the same pickle as me? :D ) I was fretting to a colleague about how the leave days are still precious nonetheless and I've had nothing planned for the short break. In exasperation, I said that I'll just hop onto the 1st bus that comes and then just sit back and "get lost".

"But it's so hard to get lost in Sin8apore," I grumbled. My colleague looked at me for awhile, blinked and said carefully: "Err....I think you could get very lost."

Actually I've done this sort of thing before; when I was still in secondary school, in a fit of boredom I boarded a bus, tuned in to my transistor radio, people-watch and take in the scenery along its 1 hr+ route and just let it take me to its final stop. There was nothing exciting there, just another ulu, quiet neighbourhood. I had a short walk around the place, bought a packet drink, and boarded the bus again to go home.

So it wasn't a very successful attempt. But sometimes, I still have an urge to alight at a different stop from where I intended to go, be it on a SBS bus, or the public train in Perth. Actually, especially when I'm overseas, because all places are equally unfamiliar and promising, and I know that I may never come by that way again.

When you know nothing about the place, you won't have any expectations, and thus you are less likely to be disappointed. Maybe that's why those trips taken when I was a kid seemed more memorable, even if it was just a car trip to Desaru. We stayed at a cheap motel (I think we would have howled at that thought now) but it was novel then. I remember that when the lights went out, it was total darkness, unlike in Singapore where the orange glow of streetlights outside always seeps in through even the smallest gap. My sister and me were totally enthralled by the fact that we couldn't even see the hands we were frantically waving in each other's faces.

You know how as you become older, travelling becomes in a way demystified, because even before you step off the plane onto the foreign soil, you've researched the place to death, examined its most gorgeous scenery via photos, planned your itinerary down to the last minute, and mapped out all the places you want to go so that that you won't end up "nowhere".

Anyway, I did go nowhere for my short break; I got so bored that I cancelled part of my leave and went back to the office. I'm due for another extended weekend this week. Maybe I'll take up my colleague's suggestion to walk around Tion8 Bahru, with all the good food places. Anyone wanna join in? :)

Post-CNY blues?

here it comes, the piggy year

oinks to all who's dear and near

those i can't stand pls steer clear

'cos pigs give great kicks in the rear!

Age seems to be on the minds of of friends recently. I never used to think that being in your twenties is considered old. But a lot of them have been using the dreaded word of late. I told one of them that once you think you're old, that's it--almost like it's game over. To another, I said that we should enjoy our twenties because we'll have plenty of time to lament when we progress into the thirties.

But the truth be told, I feel kinda old myself after a recent bout of health troubles. Over the CNY, I also met up with alot of relatives and as I look at the younger cousins all grown up and glowing while all the aunties and uncles are looking more wizened and grey, I just feel more vulnerable.

Growing older just doesn't seem like a very appealing prospect, but it is something natural and I believe that our attitude would eventually evolve with age and we'll cope with and accept what we cannot stop. But what I cannot resolve away so conveniently is the possibility of losing people as we grow older. It'll be painful no matter what age we're at.

Some of the younger cousins don't care two hoots about me and neither do I them. :P It's always the older aunties and uncles who make the effort to chat because they know I'm the quiet one and they've watched me grow up. So for the new year, I hope that I would be in good health and that my parents and aunties and uncles would all be hale and hearty! The same goes for my dear friends too. So stock up on those supplements (with your bounty of ang bao $, Rudolph! ho ho ho!), resveratrol or otherwise. :)

Things that I like (III)

I haven't been blogging. The fact is, sometimes the things I'm thinking about don't translate well into blog entries. Even when I was little, there are things that I felt which I couldn't articulate well. Now that I'm all grown up, it's still the same. I can tell you how the gentle rustling of trees makes me smile sometimes because it gives form and sound to the invisible wind that I've always wanted to see and to catch with my hands, but I'm not sure if you'd stare at me and ask me if I were on drugs. Or if I was dropped as a baby and cracked my head on the floor. :)

Hua ren hua yu?

My father and I were listening to a Chinese infotainment radio station on the road 1 morning, when the presenters started discussing the political coup in Thailand.

"Why do these people jostle for power?" My father asked rhetorically, "Those people who assume positions of power suffer so such pressure that their hair grow white."

I said rhetorically because he didn't expect a response from me, who's usually comatose in the morning and can muster, at best, a weak "uh huh".

I was silent for awhile, thinking of how best to respond, and sprouted a Chinese saying I heard just the previous night, while watching a Chinese documentary about the Yangtze River: ren2 wang3 gao1 chu4 pa2, shui3 wang3 di1 chu4 liu2 (humans will always aspire to climb to higher ground, just as water would always flow towards lower terrain).

I think he was surprised; he said: "Isn't the Chinese language meaningful? It's so descriptive."

I was pleased--it's not often that he thinks well of my Chinese language proficiency. And it felt good too, because he was right, Chinese proverbs and sayings can often hit home better than English.

I guess my perspective about my langugage usage had undergone a slight change recently, after a job interview with the Sin8apore branch of a UK publishing company. Their job application form, which I was supposed to fill out just before the interview, asked for my colour. I felt more than a jolt of irritation. I find the term offensive, and besides, they had already asked for my race and nationality. All of a sudden, I begin to understand how members of ethnic minority groups feel, when their colour gets in the way of their daily life. It really wasn't a good way to get acquainted with the company. I put in a dash.

Before the job interview, I was quite confident that I would develop a long-term career in editing. Just as the accountants crunch numbers, I like to crunch words. I like to work with words and pore over pages and pages of words. But editors in Singapore, as the instructor of the editing course I attend recently put it, get the short shrift because editing skills are not appreciated here, unlike, say, in the UK. But so what even if I shift base to overseas, I thought, how am I supposed to compete with the natives of English language?

That point was reinforced during the interview, when the interviewers explained the job scope (which was not editing per se, but more of soliciting book ideas from academics and making recommendations to the UK headquarters, ie. commissioning) and say that actual editing is done in US and UK but not Asia, even for books that are written by Asians. Commissioning is actually considered a higher rung on the editorial ladder than editing of content, but the latter is what I want to continue doing and which I hope I can still get to do in future.

The cognitive dissonance (the only handy term I ever learned in undergrad social psychology) I experienced was quite discomforting. English is the language that I base my career on, that I (mostly) think in and write in, and yet it is not a language that I own. So I could venture out of Sin8apore and possibly be considered 2nd-rate, or stay in Sin8apore and be underpaid. What a thought.

And that's why I'm thinking about picking up Chinese reading and writing again, just to touch base with the language I was born into. My first step was buying a Chinese (kiddo) storybook about 2 weekends ago, thought I haven't gathered the courage to pick it up and start reading yet. I tried the Chinese newspaper My Paper today though, and I must say it takes some getting used to. Is it me, or do Chinese writings have this undertow of moral righteousness in between the lines? It's almost like listening to a sermon. I don't think I'll be able to become a Chinese editor, but gee, I don't mind switching to translation as a career and oh, work for the UN aka The Interpreter! Erm, but I'm talking nonsense now. So, back to work.