Wednesday, November 05, 2008

#Salzburg

The train has just pulled out of the station. not long after, villages after villages that barnacle the countryside slant into view. Occasionally you see an old house, or a cathedral, or a castle perched on a not too distant hill, and you wonder who lives there, or you wonder what it´s like to live there.
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Salzburg reminds me of a certain violin concerto. It´s first view is a resplendent spray of fountain, showering and refracting the myriad of coloured pieces of light. Then your footsteps lighten and gather pace as you take in the immediate view: Mirabell palace and its rose garden, the winged horse the colour of archaic jade. And when you come to the bridge that´d take you across the river, the old city opens before your eyes a childhood fairytale. Then the hour strikes, a bell chimes, then chimes again, and is joined by a nearby bell, and another, and yet one more, until the whole city becomes a prayer song of bells.
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I met a few of your countrymen. One had the kind of hair that you like to keep, and another had wild amazing hair flecked with gold. They also had your eyes, sad and faraway, like a petal adrift somewhere. Is that what being from lost island does to you, burdening you with its loss wherever you might go?

Wednesday, October 29, 2008

#1 Seoul in transit

Hello from Seoul. Good thing that i'dbeen living out of my suitcase when i packed up two weeks ago to a friend's place. iwas working in uni up to the last minute, had a farewell tea of sorts, and then i had to run some errands, run home, and to the airport. it was a mad run. i squeezed in time to write and mail some letters and call home, and was about the last to board the plane. the flight was half-full,and i had the entire aisle to myself.
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Why do i feel like i'd left sydney permanently? It's exactly the same feeling i had when i left singapore in february. it's only been eight months, yet it's as though i'dbeen there for ever. Now i'm to be away up north for a good four months; that's half my time down under. that makes it half an eternity? everytime i leave a place, i leave a sliver of my life behind, they become a previous life, gradually replaced by coming years, previous years become a dream, or a distant memory, eventually becoming figments of my imagination, abraded and brocaded by the vivid present and a longing for the past, the previous becomes precious.
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In my haste I think i forgot to pack in the cable for my camera so that i can upload pictures along the way. So i guess photos will only be up when i'm back in march. meantime I'llwrite you postcards:
Dear C,
How does one describe the smell of airplanes? if i say i dislike the smell, it's probably because the sterile air and bland meals remind me of our reluctant parting just a few minutes ago by the sliding door. If i strangely like it, is it because of the persistent thought of our eventual reunion? And what if you have gone and are never coming back? Why do airports and airplanes, such transient tools of transit and transport, evoke such heightened emotions? To remind us that without the necessary, the sterile, the farewells, one would be hard put to dream, to live, to love? On the plane i read Czeslaw Milosz, and he posed this question that i'd been asking myself the past two years: has enough time passed and distance come, so that i could articulate, through some detachment and some coldness, a truer pain? Can pain be rendered real when it has ceased to exist? Big philosophical questions and I'm running out of space. Goodbye for now, I send my love, and a fragment from Milosz - It could just as well not exist - and so man constructs poetry out of the remnants found in ruins. One day I'll promise you a poem.

Sunday, October 26, 2008

tutes

last friday was the twelfth and final tutorial sessions, and with that they handed in their final essays, and i've been spending the weekend a bit marking, just so i could finish it here and don't have to bring those stacks up with me to europe. 

i was also surprised they turned up to class; given there was nothing left to discuss, other than a general where-do-you-see-the-international-system-heading wrap-up, and these kids would probably have another 4-5 essays due that day but yet done. sometimes i do sympathise with them, they spend half their youth trying to get into uni, then spend the entire time in uni wondering if it's all been worth it, while trying to juggle part-time jobs and living on their own (many aussie kids are very independent in that they move out and work to pay for their own living expenses). that's on top of the required school work of attending lectures, tutorials, doing their readings, writing essays, preparing for exams, all in a short span of 12 weeks, and how much can any student learn in such constrained situations is not hard to see. through the weeks i've come to get used to cynical responses and expressions, and the overall deteriorating academic standards as a consequence of an increasingly corporatised and monetised and utilitarian curriculum and education will have wider adverse effects on a society. if only what sells is important then it's no wonder libraries are burning all around us. the time that is necessary to read, reflect, and write cannot be bought - but like books, it can be borrowed, and returned, recharged, for the better. the last twelve weeks have also been yet another reminder that teaching is not just another job; that teachers (and tutors) play a critical role; that impressionable young lives and their futures are at stake. 

Monday, October 13, 2008

journeys

i recently came across a blog that was kept by a singaporean guy, who started it initially to chronicle his decision to apply for australian PR and leave singapore. time passed as he blogged, and as he put it, the decision became a journey. and we readers came to learn about his life and struggles and fears, a classic hardworking 'heartlander' boy trying to eke out a living in singapore, and in the process coming round to see singapore for what it really is, and who then made the decision to leave. many times, while reading his entries, i admired how lucidly he'd penned the very thoughts that i've been trying to articulate.

his blog didn't end when he finally attained his PR and came down under. it formed the second part of the story, about australian life seen through the eyes of a new migrant, the endless job hunt, the settling for a part-time job delivering pizza, the living hand to mouth from day to day, all the time wondering if he had made the right decision to leave his old life, his family, his girlfriend. but what was there to miss, when all the things he had loved when he was a child had been torn down, he had wondered. 

but his blog did come to an end, when he passed away, a little less than a year after migrating to australia. one morning his housemates found him dead. there was not a little outpouring of grief and words of RIP in the singapore blogosphere, for he had by then garnered a following of loyal readers who had come feel for his struggles and to love the guy who had blithely shared his tribulations.

even though that all happened a few years ago, i cant help but also feel sad about it all (it's weird to feel sad for a dead person), having been touched by his writing and come to love his style - light-footed, breezy, candid, yet sincere; and that revealed glimpses of a big heart and kind soul behind the prose. it's also yet another reminder about how life is more than being unpredictably fragile - life is also what you make of it, while you still have it. carpe diem, remember? he may be dead now, but even though i don't know him, i think few can say he hadn't lived, and lived out his dreams.  

:: http://singaporeserf.blogspot.com/2005/12/posts-index.html ::
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i was also reminded of my own mortality (yet again) last week, when i purchased my travel insurance online and was going through the terms and benefits. for AUD$248, covering an entire four-month trip to europe, i am insured from $50 to $1 million for various things from a wallet to a few limbs. i think someone will receive $5000 if i should die, but really, i find it vulgar to put a dollar to a life. it's worse to clamour for a dead man's money. tsk.

frankly, i'm not concerned about death; if i'm gone, i'm gone. no need for elaborate funerals or grand send-offs, or speculation about whether i'm in heaven or purgatory or hell. hold a non-religious wake, come see me one more time, and try to remember me once in a while. i suppose some of you guys wouldnt be able to hold back your tears nonetheless, and i wouldn't hold it against you. but please, cry me a rivulet, then start living a better life, preferably one that's filled with good literature and music (faye wong and winterson wouldnt be bad places to start). i dont suppose i have a lot of worldly possession to require a will. most of my mementoes from years back have been packed into a box before i came to sydney, and they're at an aunt's house. i'll probably give them to sing, or rose, or the two dear women in my life could share the stuff like old letters and photographs and scraps of journal entries (quite like how they've been sharing me all these years har har har). most of my books are at jp's, and i've told him before, if i don't come claim them, they're all his. here in sydney, most of my possessions (other than books, which jp can come collect, and finally take the australian holiday that i've been pestering him to) are perishables like clothes and laptop and ipod, things that can all go into a winter fire, and i suppose, along with my dead self. maybe if it's not too much of a hassle, i'd like to have my ashes drifting in the sea off pasir ris beach. ah, that beloved childhood playground of mine, those wonderful carefree times. it'd be nice to go back home for a while.
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but until then, i suppose i do have to carry on living. it's my last two weeks here in sydney before i leave. semester is coming to a close, and i've been really busy marking the essays, and the exam scripts would be in soon. next week my stuff would be packed into boxes and stored in a friend's garage. doing all these makes me feel like i've been here forever and am never coming back again. i do want to move to melbourne next year; but i'll miss terribly the friends that i've made here. i had a mild epiphany a few days ago, that i'm not as solitary a person as i all along thought. i think i do yearn for company, but only from that regular and rare few, who can stand my silence, my nonsense, all that restlessness, all the while staving off that mega-boredom of going out with someone whose mind is always somewhere else. 
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if you cant reach me in sydney, i am here somewhere in europe...

29 oct - 3 nov : salzburg (for the conference)
3 - 6 nov : vienna
7 - 10 nov : prague (meeting up with f)
11 - 14 nov : dresden (visiting f's hometown)
14 - 15 nov : berlin 
16 nov - 22 dec : lincolnshire and hopping around the uk (maybe dublin)
23 dec - 3 jan : oslo (visiting samna)
3 jan - 29 feb : lincolnshire and more hopping around the uk (and maybe paris)

and then i'll come back to sydney, then maybe rent a car, stuff in all my boxes, and drive over to melbourne, and resume my aussie life in the new year on a new page in a beloved place. 

sometimes i think i'm happiest being a nomad, and sometimes i do wonder when it all would end.

Wednesday, October 08, 2008

master's narratives

i met up with an acquaintance last week, who had come down from singapore on a work trip. conversations about singapore more of less becomes inevitable, and at times our discussions became debates became heated debates. but j (his name) was somewhat different from my past altercations; while we disagreed on virtually every point and aspect he was able to make me think (and rethink) some of my positions. more importantly, he provided me with an insight into the psyche of how and why singapore works for some.
(the following is a disorganised ramble off the cuff and not a dissertation.)
but for most singaporeans, singapore isnt that rosy and often they swing between despair and resignation (both of which are untenable positions because no matter one's predicament, one has a choice to counteract), the singapore government has provided for everyone a masternarrative for which to justify its doings and existence. i concede that these masternarratives to begin with have a prima facie logic to them - singapore is small and have no resources so citizens have got to work hard and be thankful for such excellent leadership (to name but just one, but one that is overarching) - but are also contingent on playing up the survival instinct and siege mentality (both of which provide the government with more bargaining powers over citizens). but the nub is these masternarratives appear logical and plausible only up to a point - drive any further (supposing it is within the person's will and/or intellect) and the intellectual foundations will start to crumble, and puzzles begin to form. for example, we bemoan our lack of resources - but it is a lack or a bountiful depending on what you include - people are natural resources, so is our deep harbour and strategic location. the natural resource theory also assumes that countries with natural resources will industrialise (japan and malaysia are two contrasting examples to refute this argument). but this is a story for another day: singapore's masternarratives deconstructed. beyond that point, of fuzzy logic and intellectual abstraction, most singaporeans will either be unable to justify government actions or the workings of the singaporean machinery, or refuse to engage in discussion further citing lethargy or distraction or resorting to tantrum behaviour (we have established that singaporeans are infantile and kept so for politico-economic reasons). however one reads those masternarratives - to justify the unjust, unjustified, and the injustices, the parallel/implied reasoning is always the indispensability of the PAP government that is also the best and the brightest that country can offer (i.e. utter bollocks). might i add that no matter what plagues singapore, it is always singaporeans' fault, never the government's. on this point, i cant resist sharing worthington's observation that singapore's elections are events for singaporeans to be held accountable to the PAP rather than the other way round.

if singaporeans compare singapore's tax rates with other supposed high-tax countries in detail, they'd realise that the difference is not at all big. and high taxes in other countries are often paraded as how singapore is not like them. it is true they have higher taxes, though the amount taxed is progressive (ie. not high across the board), that are used to provide for social safety net. comprehensive welfare systems, contrary to what the PAP has been saying, are not crumbling in the west, and the supposed 'crutch' mentality is statistically proven to be a low percentage, and the overall societal benefits far outweighs the supposed disadvantages, for one, building a more caring society (which is what the government has been trying not to do). lax productivity levels as a result of welfare provisions is also a myth - despite high taxes, people do work, and they strive to excel in their occupations (salary is a major, but not the only motivation to work). singaporeans on the other hand, despite minimal welfare, are also among the least productive (total factor productivity output) of the OECD countries. what the singapore system does is to minimise social provision, and ensure that despite low productivity, constant work will occupy the singaporean worker so that economic rent can be continuously be extracted out of him. as the average singaporean worker doesnt earn a lot, there is simply no point in instituting high taxes - instead, singaporeans are taxed on consumption. so any how goes, the winner - i.e. the PAP - takes (after) all. (tax rates for the rich, who already have higher spending power, pay a net tax rate of about 30% less than his average singaporean counterpart on per capita terms). this explains singaporean's mentality that anything deemed un-economic is not worth it - penny-wise, pound foolish, among other aphorisms - which blinds them to the reality that not only are singaporeans actually paying as high a tax as other first world countries, they are denied social security (the money is used for overseas spending sprees in the tens of billions), and instead of a house with a garden and backyard (generally speaking), they have to settle for an HDB flat. before anyone reminds me that because singapore is small and therefore HDB flats are an inevitability, may i proffer that high rises can still be built without them being necessarily built by HDB nor do they have to be 99-year leasehold, and nor do they have to be of the type, look, and size that they currently are (but they are because such facilitate PAP control and profiteering).

but the truth is, singapore works. it's a highly efficient country driving a prosperous economy, low unemployment, high income, high-tech, the people are well-provided for, and live in harmony. but truth is relative - singapore is a different kind of singapore depending on who (e.g. age/social class/gender/sexuality/education level/residential property/physical (dis)abilities) you speak to. roughly speaking, 60% of the population stay on because they cannot leave, and are constantly striving to better their lot, if not crawl out of their rut. the other 20-30%, having succeeded materially, stand to gain from the system, and sees little reason to leave. the ability to flaunt their condos and cars at the less well-off are additional incentives to remain (social feel good factor).

the truth is also only half the story. singapore is a corporation pretending to be a country, run like a corporation, its leaders remunerated accordingly, and its citizens behave accordingly (spend and scoot). thus not every singaporean gets to, and can get to, enjoy the supposed fruits of the country - generally, only people of a certain social class/income level can. while this might be said of any other country, the difference is that those that singapore are emulating (e.g. the first world western liberal democratic countries) are far more transparent and egalitarian and more genuinely provide for their citizens in terms of housing, welfare, medical, education, employment, overall quality of life; and those that are emulating singapore (e.g. the third world developing/underdeveloped countries) do not pretend they care for (put it very crudely) their citizens.

for all that i've written against singapore, my objections to it are actually very simple: singapore is a thriving state whose main beneficiaries are its self-serving leaders and their GLC/civil service minions - i.e. those who benefit from the singapore government scholarship system. we do not have fair and just systems of government, governance, education, legal, housing, employment, welfare provisions, and, as a consequence have bred a mediocre populace (the elite, by definition, remains among the few) and an uncompassionate/heartless/brutal society. and for all that i rail against singaporeans, i see their national complex and psyche as manifest in their thoughts and behaviour predictable consequences of an authoritarian government and intense indoctrination by the state media.
so the average singaporean essentially possesses a minimal vocabulary and thought process that can, in any given discussion on any topic, be reproduced thus:
you: (start a discussion on any topic about singapore)
sgrean: (launches a recycled spiel first narrated by the masters, i.e. singapore small, vulnerable, therefore must this and that, and look, singapore world class here and there what)
you: but ... (interrogates further)
sgrean: yar, i think it's good/bad... lidatt lor... yar ...

and before anyone raises the fact that the successful got there by their own merits and that singapore is a meritocracy, i'll just briefly state here that meritocracy is a form of elitism that in this case is more insidious because it masquerades as a product of fairness (and of nature). there's little that's fair or natural in our education system - graduate mothers are (still) given priority access to good schools, and most of singapore's elite schools are situated in prime locations of districts 9, 10, 11 that are fenced off by the MOE's requirements that parents need to live within 2 km of the school they want to send their children to (now try to work out the percentage of singaporeans who can actually afford to live in those districts). it is unsurprising that the overwhelming majority of PSC scholarship holders live in private estates. getting a head start in life is the single most important factor in one's chances of succeeding in life, (socialization among like circles come next), even if one's not that intelligent to begin with. early and constant streaming takes care of the second part of meritocracy - everyone is useful, but some are more useful than others (but usefulness as (over)determined by a determined government), and myriad of obstacles are in place to ensure most singaporeans stamped with a category remain in those categories - and by the age of 20, you can talk to any singaporean and after a few questions by way of conversation, you can accurately determine where one's station in singaporean life is, how one got there, and where one might go from there, give and take a few exceptions.

that is not to say the average singaporean thus loses out. yes, and no - it's a difference to a degree - sometimes a large degree. the singapore state discriminates against the average singaporean without necessarily depriving him/her of a decent standard of living (relative to third world countries that is) and without him/her actually realising it - why make life so miserable for them as to render them resentful and economically unproductive, when you can add a few sweeteners here and there so as to be able to extract even more from them not least via long-term economic dependence on the government (i.e. that you earn a wage does not mean you are economically indendent - look at where the bulk of your expenses go)? in employment, wages are set by the NWC that are essentially suppressed so as to entice foreign investments as well as ensure GLCs have access to cheap labour. hence a blue collar worker in australia can earn more (after taxes) than a graduate computer programmer in singapore. while it is true that consumer goods are slightly more expensive than singapore (while cars and housing arent necessarily so), an australian blue collar worker fallen into hard times can cut down on spending, and if he falls ill he does not worry about medical expenses. the singaporean worker fallen onto hard times not only have to cut spending but also worry about (potentially) exorbitant medical expenses. (between high taxes and adequate social security and high taxes and no social security, which one would an idiot choose?) the singaporean worker is not protected by trade unions, and retrenchment benefits are miniscule, and that is if the company pays or can afford to pay such. the law that is meant to serve justice is also often used to serve up injustice. and if you're an average singaporean, you subconsciously steer clear of getting involved in any legal proceedings - not just because they are costly (first hurdle), but also because our laws have been laid out in favour of the rich and powerful (insurmountable hurdle). and if you are an average singaporean, not only are the elite schools out of reach (talking in proportionate terms here) for your children, you have to struggle to cough up money to hire tutors (which the rich can easily do).

other mechanisms kick in either to ensure that the average singaporean remains beholden to the state, or is suppressed by it. these mechanisms are primarily manifest in the HDB, COE, CPF - two of any three locks in a Singaporean for a good few decades. and what do they offer? HDB: 99 year leasehold apartment built at artificially suppressed prices (because the singapore government enacted the Land Acquisition Act that enables it to evict landowners and recompensed minimally; and the construction workers are all imported labour at third world wages) then sold to singaporeans at market rates. COE entitles a car owner to drive the car for 10 years but not before having the car owner cough up 150% of the cost of the vehicle to the treasury, while continually paying ERP, parking, fuel (the bulk of which once again flows into the treasury). At the end of 10 years of car ownership, at least S$80,000 (including fuel and taxes and miscellaneous expenses) would have gone down the drain, the singaporean finds himself needing to continue working hard to recoup the losses/re-spend on another car. the CPF forces the singaporean to part with a part of his salary so that the government can hire superfundmanagers (i.e. professional gamblers) to invest globally earning 8-9% returns, while offering 2-4% interest rates (the remaining are pocketed by the treasury).

there are other mechanisms too - national service moulds a compliant male population ready to take orders, while having to remain 'active' for the next two decades. the fact that singapore's army is unnecessarily large and that primarily functions to support the mega scientific/research industries is scantly addressed. a state media indoctrinates a people, subliminally skewing a people's thoughts (or ability to think, or both). and etc, and etc.

so to cut a long story short, after such rigorous sieving and prodding and moulding, the singapore in reality is one that the average singaporean cannot see. not just because they are constantly fed the hogwash that they live in a world class city, earning world class wages, live in world class flats/houses, have a world class education system, and have world class leaders - but because, as the venerable LKY admonished singaporeans in another context, "singaporeans have no sense of perspective".

when our supposed GDP per capita of S$50,000 (rough estimate) is inclusive of imports and exports (as well as million dollar government leaders, MNC executives, superscale civil service), Singapore's real GDP in equitable terms for the average singaporean is more accurately S$25000-35,000. and this is the reality figure - most singaporeans that we know as average, earn a monthly salary of between $1800-3500 (the percentage of the average working population decreases as the figure increases, or working hours incommensurate with salary earned; and this cuts through a spectrum of professions and education level). contrast that to the *main beneficiaries* (as defined earlier) of the singapore system that earn at least 5, 10, 15, 20 times as much, one does need a hard dose of perspectival lenses to see those stratospheric figures and make a comparison. so while the average heartlander, if lucky, gets through the rigorous sieving in the education and graduate from the local university and lands a stable career, he would have been contented, thankful, and generally done quite well in singapore society. (what happens if he does not? in terms of annual factory output - 30% of each cohort make it into university (including 10% government scholarship holders), 40% into the polytechnics, and 30% vocational schools). on the other hand, the elite class (which is a less porous segment of singapore society than we like to think, and the absolute few who make it into the elite fold does not negate the overall privileges the elite gain; in fact the absolute outsider few that manage to break in are essential to enact the charade of meritocracy) and its offsprings leapfrog the masses, get educated at oxbridge and the ivy leagues, return to serve and perpetuate the PAP system of institutionalised corruption and patronage.

so the next time an average singaporean takes pride in singapore's achievements and start spewing off world class statements (in singlish no less), be a kind soul and remind him that not only are those fruits of labour (kept) out of his reach, they come about precisely from his permanent slave labour.

Sunday, October 05, 2008

love JBJ



there are few in singapore who come anywhere near JBJ's achievements; london-educated lawyer, magistrate, and member of parliament, and who because he spoke truth to power, was made to lose all his silk and robes, a lone figure amidst singapore's gleaming modernity peddling books, a lone voice soaring above a diffident office crowd, 'make it right! make it right for singapore!'

there are even fewer who have his guts, who understood every word of majulah singapura, who recited the Pledge not as a pledge of dependence, distraction, emptiness. he dared to live out his convictions in a country that convicted those beliefs, and had to face off not only the powerful, but also the powerless who either viewed him with disdain, or dared not look him in the eye. in a country whose illusive prosperity pays due to self-serving millionaire politicians, a contemptuous and condescending ruling class, a disgraceful and propagandistic mass media, and a grovelling citizenry who has to constantly pit itself against itself for bread crumbs, why is there no place for someone like JBJ?

hence the distinction of rarity goes to singapore, a country that reveres the Father and his coins, and that ostracises the true son and his quest to seek out truth, justice, and liberty. and for whom? it is my long-held belief that when a people has never known grace and kindness, and who have been treated solely as a digit in a factory, this very people will treat every other person as harshly, cruelly, as a digit right down to the decimal point. why should there be no place for someone like JBJ?

JBJ could've very simply lived the high life of singapore, schmoozing as district judges do amongst the legal fraternity and high society. but where high society lapped up the riches and the privilege, he left that place to be amongst the people - ordinary citizens like you and i - who can only dream of attaining what he once upon a time had, who can only hope to be able to bring up such fine sons, and not just because they graduated with distinction from cambridge and became a banker and a senior counsel, and one of singapore's finest literary authors. he could've earned millions, but in a sick society like singapore, we made him pay millions. and for what? for speaking up for us. for daring to do what we do not dare to. for being willing to give up all that most of us would never have, not with all the dreams in the world. and how did we embrace JBJ and that place he painstakingly carved out for singaporeans - despite all the odds - just so we could stand firmer and prouder?

when JBJ died, his record was whiter than white, outshining even those supposed men in white. he had no slush funds or secret bank accounts - how to, when he had nowhere and no wish to hide? he had no illicit love affairs - he stayed true to his wife even in the two decades after her death. what JBJ achieved was to be so innocent as to have the privy council of london confirm and condemn our farcical courts, and expose our deplorable politicians as a bunch of cowardly, vindictive, mercenaries. what he achieved was everything the singapore leaders have over the last forty years cajoled singaporeans to; well, almost everything. where he succeeded was everything singapore's leaders desperately had sought to fabricate for themselves.

JBJ died of heart failure; but when he died, it was not just his heart that had failed him.

it is just my conviction that when things are wrong, and if there is anything i can do to put them right, then i should. i think every citizen should feel like that. it is every citizen's duty.

JBJ

Saturday, September 27, 2008

thesis.student.life.

two weeks ago i had a little thesis epiphany, and i came to see more clearly what i was actually trying to do. and this not without a lot (and i mean a lot) of help from s who has all this while seemed to know what my thesis is (and should be) about. sigh. that conceptual breakthrough helped push my thinking forward and now the theoretical framework is taking shape, and there're four, five, case studies swimming to the surface. 

i've made a few good friends, all fellow grad students, all tearing our hair out. it's scary how everyone's thoughts and fears are the same - the self-doubts, the imposter syndrome, the helplessness, the lost-in-the-theoretical-woods, the tears. it's a repeated script - there'd come moments when, after a day's work, one finds one alone, and one'd start sobbing. L put it all into perspective one time during lunch, when after doing the requisite who-else's-luckier-than-us-who-can-do-what-we're-doing (delinquent, economically-unproductive, overaged and under-careered students), he asked, 'what's a thesis but a few pieces of paper piled one on another?' suddenly a thesis didn't seem that daunting (yeah ...). but what hammered it home was his profound observation that some students would never be happy until they'd handed in their thesis, by which one'd wonder, 'what's the point?'

it's already week 9 of the semester, and i've come to enjoy tutoring the three classes immensely. old habits are stubborn and many times i get off the rails on some burning issue that gets to me and i have to abruptly halt my hectoring self. apparently the students find that amusing. it's also a tough balance between not imposing one's politics and beliefs upon these fresh minds and inculcating in them a habit of rigorous thought processing. many times i find myself an entertainer, even when the topics of discussions are earth-shatteringly exciting issues of nuclear annihilation and the stuff of great and small power politics and everything else in-between. it's amazing how cynical one can get so young. yesterday i can't remember what, but i found myself ranting off, each sentence louder than the last, i think i was saying something about it not mattering what one's ideological position was but that it was informed by ethics and intense intellectualisation, and that if the university didn't encourage it the university would've had failed them but if they themselves as uni students didn't deem fit to engage in philosophical inquiry then they'd have failed themselves. i have this habit of sitting on desks rather than on chairs and i was almost falling off the edge. but there're also moments reminding you that teaching is still about interacting with a fellow being, like when students email you saying they're sick and have to skip classes, or sharing a personal problem with you, or just hanging around after class to have a chat, taking an interest in your work and life, and then there're the endearingly familiar moments of deciphering atrocious handwriting and appalling grammar, and then the rewarding times when they tell you you're the best teacher they ever had in uni. ah.

i'll be very busy the next four weeks, gotta revise my conference draft, hem up a 10,000 word thesis intro chapter, mark the eighty essays, and pack up my things, once again, into boxes, and continue leading the very nomadic life of mine.

Wednesday, September 17, 2008

unsupervisable

me: u're right, i shld focus on sg poco and work into ir if at all. the ir bit can come later
S: ah poetry to my ears. J says to supervisor: "You are right"
me: i am so unsupervisable
S: *HUGS*
me: lol
S: yes. supervisor gives advice, j does opposite for 6 - 8 months. then says "I have had this idea, it is just what you said 8 months ago"
LOL

Sunday, September 14, 2008

quiet days

winter is receding, and strangely, the onset of spring has brought with it days of rain, warm and little humid drops sprinkled from above. during my last six, seven, months in sydney, i've entered into a few routines such that i felt like i've been here for much longer. yet when i returned to singapore and confronting all that are familiar, i could just as well have never left. i'm always intrigued by how our minds can render time and reality so pliable. i remember when i was a child, maybe five or six, i would wake up in the mornings with the sunlight lancing through the window and familial voices wafting from outside in, a picture of domestic contentment as vivid as a five-year old can envisage, i would imagine how this awakening into consciousness, into reality was all a dream, and that to slide into slumber and into unconsciousness was in fact a return to the real reality, one that i in this awakened-but-unconscious state would have utterly no inkling. those fantasies i would lob around my mind for a bit, before i would finally get up for breakfast. what if my childhood hypothesis were true? 

when i returned from melbourne i was very sure i wanted to move over next year. but somehow sydney started to grow on me, the sun, the uni, the routine, the friends that i'd made. and so for the last month i had been mulling over the pros and cons of each, and was actually gradually coming to deciding to remain in sydney, until today, somehow i was convinced that i should move to melbourne. sydney hasnt been able to give me a peace of mind, and as a consequence i havent really been reading and writing a lot. i was in a bookshop this morning and chanced upon a copy of henry miller's 'quiet days in clichy', a semi-autobiographical account of bohemian paris and his days there as a struggling and impoverished writer, and then i rather wished i had written such a book. 

tomorrow is monday, but mondays mean nothing to me, not when my monday blues mean lying in on the green grass in front of the library lawn and staring up into the big wide blue.

Wednesday, September 03, 2008

遇見



some time ago a friend sent me a song (一根煙的時間) by a then-unknown HK songwriter 林一峰, knowing i love tenor voices. but this tenor is quite a cut above the rest... he reminds me of faye wong. yeah... there's a certain type of voice that gets to me, i don't know how to describe, so one might want to listen to the clip below to know what i really mean. :)



oh goodness, i spent the whole morning youtubing faye wong.