Stand Up For Singapore! Do The BEST You Can!

He's a master of disguise. Walks with a limp, last seen in Whitley detention facility. I heard SCGS parents have kept their daughters at home.

Mas Selamat planned to hijack a plane to crash into Changi Airport. Now why would you want to do that Mr. Selamat? We just opened the new Terminal 3, it's nice and big and all, or so I heard.

When I heard this I thought of a script involving the dude having been tagged with RFID tech and that it's not possible for him to have truly escaped. He must have been "allowed" to escape. Then we'll catch him again. Hopefully.

Current conspiracy theory about this is that it's a ruse meant to scare the citizens of Singapore and remind them that the terror threat is very real and close to home. I didn't come up with this one. I heard it from someone else. So don't catch me gahmen. Please. Otherwise I'll I have to stay here in India.

I've done my part, that is a poster with the possible disguises the dude might take. I did it cause the two photographs shown of him look like the same one (are they?), just that the second one's got a goatee and tan.

GO GET HIM SPF!!!

Yeah, Yeah It's a Leap Year And All That.

Yesterday we had another day of Creative Search Engines, where we had to imagine paperweights and stuff. The paperweight experience is simple, you sit in a circle and the lecturer then tells you (straight in the eye - or my eyes at least) that there's a paperweight seated on the ground in the center of everyone (when there is none).

It is exercise in Imagination. Everyone is told to describe the paperweight they see, and thereafter we all take turns to do so. I found it a fascinating study into the subconscious - everyone described something that was reflective of their thoughts, and it was astounding.
Although, mine was a black silver metal ball that held universes inside of it.

Then we had a Brainstorming exercise. This one involves the creation and marketing of a tail. Yes, a tail meant for humans. You could do anything you wanted with it, so this is what my group ended up with.



CUCUMBERSOME. I just made that up to say to Nuria. Happy songs make me sick. I say to Leigh. I'm sorry, I slept at 4 am and now it's 10.22 am and I'm waiting for class cause we woke up to have breakfast thinking class is at 10 am.

For the past 3 days we've been working non-stop making ad scripts, ad posters, campaigns and what-nots, so when I had some time yesterday, I played with the PSP till about 4. That would be about 8 hours of it. Or so.

And I don't really have anything to report at this time. Maybe later.

This Is Nuri(a).

So Yuffie from FFVII: Advent Children reminds Mr. Bean of Nuria. I am inclined to agree with him, even though the resemblance might only be in the hair. Or mostly.

The Funny of the Day: Guy buys chocolate tart for girl. Girl says no.

"The believer is happy. The doubter is wise."

The quote from class today. I had to read it out, and I love it.

Vodcasting From India: New Haircut

Averse To Too-Confirming People.

And Incidentally

I miss my favourite producer in the world. You know who you are, sorry for the lack of a reply on Facebook, I've been busy getting bored in my room trying to do homework and write up a script.

The Death of Polaroid and Other Tales of Abandoned Art-Tech.

Plenty of things have been going on here at The Silver Oak Resort Spa, and plenty of things have also not gone on. What do I mean?

Well, there was a falling out of sorts between some friends - incidentally I was privy to the confrontation details as it occurred "live" next door, thanks (or no thanks) to the rather thin brick walls and equally hollow plastic door of my room.

It was a surprising moment.

We were invited to dinner by Harshal, a special dinner for Linda and her NGO friends (ang mohs interning at an Ahmedabad-based NGO dealing with disaster-relief and development). He invited them for dinner and Kash offered to cook Chicken Rice for everyone with the spices/seasoning she got from home (in a package that looked like it weighed a ton from her parents - I think). I think she made Kiam Chai Teng (salty vegetable soup?) as well, but I'm not sure.

I'm not sure because the vegetables meant to be swimming in soup were placed in a plate and the soup was absent from the table. It (the soup) had been discarded by the Mess Hall cooks during the period of time she left the Mess Kitchen and went elsewhere. Harshal collected the large basins of rice and chicken and they also gave him the plate of vegetables. Kash came back to the Silveroak kitchen (where we were going to have our dinner) and wondered out loud the whereabouts of her soup. And discovered only the greens.

If I haven't previously mentioned Linda, I shall clarify for you now. Linda is an European girl (I keep forgetting from where) whom Marine made friends with when they were both in the Chocolate Room. They struck up a close friendship from there.

The people present at the dinner were Leigh, Nuria, Kash, Andrea (Portugal), Mexican Girl, Julian the Australian, Linda, Harshal, Melanie and myself. I apologise if I've gotten anyone's name wrong (or not at all).

Chicken was obtained from Masty Foods, a kebabs restaurant near to Reliance Mart (our favouritest place in the whole world). They got drumsticks and some kebabs, and also uncooked chicken pieces for Kash's Chicken Rice. She had gotten some chicken rice mix/seasoning from a package sent from home.

After dinner we all sat around and talked among ourselves. Being me, I take longer to warm up to people, and as such, I wasn't so comfortable making the necessary small talk with the guests. I did find it easy talking to Andrea (Portugal) though. It was also probably because she was seated in front of me. But otherwise it was weird for us. I had the distinct feeling it was weird for the guests as well, considering that they didn't know us and didn't know what to say to us, not to mention dragging them all the way from the city to have a Chinese dish.

But I wouldn't know for sure. So anyway, here's an excerpt from the night's conversation:

GIRL
So how big is Mexico?

MEXICAN GIRL
(bewildered) Uh, hmm how do I describe it? It's... large... okay, India is about 3 times the size of Mexico.

GIRL
Okay. Do you guys all wear the stupid large hats? (gesturing the shape of the wide hats)

MEXICAN GIRL
Heh, no, that's just in the movies.

GIRL
Haha, do you guys all have tequilas at every meal?

MEXICAN GIRL
Oh no, no we don't.

GIRL
What do you guys eat? Is it all burritos? Do you have it all the time?

MEXICAN GIRL
Uh, no, it is more traditional but no, we have other things...

I am recalling this now about 2 days after the dinner, so forgive me if I got any of the details wrong. If anyone at the dinner has a different account or would like to extend this conversation, or would like me to make any corrections, do let me know via my email.

So after we all had the chips, cheetos, drumsticks, kebabs, chicken-rice chicken and chicken-rice-rice, coke, frooti (mango drink) and ice-cream, everyone adjourned to different places. The group of International NGO Interns, Harshal, Melanie and Kash went to Chhota, whilst Leigh, Nuria, Bertie and I went to MICAfe for some drinks. This ritual of MICAfe after dinner is now a permanent thing. We do it almost every night. This does not apply to Ms. Nuria Ling, who's always got someone about to call her cell. So sometimes she doesn't come with us.

I think Harshal fetched them back to their flat in the City after that.

In other news: The beloved Chhota Swing has met its demise and is no longer a fixture with which to use in a Pictonary game for "swing". Nuria weeps along with the other MICAns.

All that happened 2 days ago. Yesterday evening Bertie, Marine, Romain, Nuria, Leigh and I went to Reliance before heading to Masty Foods kebabs restaurant for dinner. The manager impressed us all when he came up to our table speaking perfect English with a hint of an American education, ensuring Nuria that the meat was Halal, differentiating Paghaddi kebab from the normal ones for Leigh, and eventually shaking my hand in thanks for feasting at the place. Of all the people at the table he chose to direct this thanks to me, making it all the more awkward after when everyone started to make fun of me. The "Alpha-Male" society joke I keep throwing at Nuria came back to bite me, the Frenchies were all laughing, and Leigh "Four-Lines-Face" Khoo was smiling as well.

It was a good meal and one of those dinners you wish you could keep in your memories but know that with each passing day you'll forget the feelings it gave you.

Ah Well.

Exceptionally Depressing, But Entirely Exceptional

An excerpt:

"Friday, December 28, 2007:
a 13-year-old basset hound in kidney failure. she was so kind and licked my face as i carried her in from the car for the owner. he was a sweet old man with tears in his eyes. i fed her an entire bag of treats and she kept eating ferociously even after the injection. her chewing slowed down and then she was gone."

Quoted from this blog.

Exercise In Class

The Frog is ours and it will turn into a Princess because it is a metaphor for our writing. So we're supposed to take care of it then it will be nurtured.

EXERCISE: In 5 minutes, write a short story that must feature in the first line, the following 3 words - candle, rope and love. Ignore grammar if need be, disregard commas, etc.

"Candle, rope, love" - Those were the 3 words he had scrawled across one of the walls of the roo in blood. Oh yes, I shouldn't really say "he" should I? The Left Hand of Doom could be a woman for all we know, but the case profile seems to hint that the serial killer is a man. The M.O. as usual for is murder is the same, a sledgehammer swung straight down upon a naked girl held down on a workbench, limbs held fast by metal vices,"

- At this point the teach introduced a word: BLUE, which we were to use -

"The blue paint he splashes over their bodies after he had fucked their lifeless bodies was caked dry and made the grisly sight somewhat artsy. Even Warhol couldn't top this."

All in five minutes, while everyone else wrote splendidly lofty prose I was busy thinking about crime fiction that makes no sense. And even worse reading material. But this exercise was to prove a point that Writer's Block can be cured.

Then the next exercise after lunch came and it was to do with the following scenario:

You know a guy, but he's just an acquaintance you've borrowed a book from. You go to his apartment in a 20-storey building to find that he's not home. His mom takes the book from you, and says he'll be back soon. You say you'll come back after because want to discuss some ideas with him. You go up to the roof to enjoy the view and there your friend is, clear as day, standing on the parapet about to leap. What do you say to him (in 100 words or less)?

Hey dude, I came by to return your book, your mom's waiting for you to come back. How's the view from there? I came up to catch a glimpse, is that a better way to experience the view? I wouldn't know, I don't live in a 20-storey building. Hey, if you don't mind, could we talk about the book first before catching the view, I need to submit the homework, even if you don't seem keen on doing it anymore. And oh, if you're really really really serious about the view, could you wait till I've left the building? I don't want to give a statement and all that. And oh, do leave a note for your family as well, explanations make it more convenient for the Police investigation and your family's grieving process. And oh, carbon monoxide poisoning is easier and painless. But leave me out of that as well.

Self-serving bastard. Heh.

BEST MOMENT OF THE DAY:
When Nuria delivered her version of the Suicide-Prevention-Speech, in all its Singaporean Glory. See her blog for the speech. Imagine a room filled with Indians all stumped as the first line drops and 4 Singaporeans burst out in laughter (some much louder than others), all of them bewildered as Nuri (hahahahaha, she hates it when her BFF calls her that) drops line after line of Singlish-Goodness. Then I had to do the translation.

Why Are They Just Standing There?

THIS IS FUCKING POINTLESS. KILL CREATIVITY ME NOW.

Um. Taking Life's Inspiration.

GIRL

You look good today.

BOY
Uh...

GIRL
Hey, say it back even if you don't mean it.

BOY.
Non-commital. Yeah, you look good.

"NURIA, YOU MANLY WOMAN YOU'RE DAMN FAKE. YOUR ACTING REALLY SUX." - This is part of the conversation I want to remember. Then one day Nuria will finally listen to me when I say, in an arrogant, prideful way:

I told you so.

The Things Famous Directors Possess...

1. Photography
2. Acting
3. Imagination
4. Execution
5. Narration
6. Sound
7. Relationship
8. Communication
9. Symbolism
10. Patience
11. Psychology
12. Dance
13. Music
14. Fiction
15. Logistics
16. Body Language

... that they should see in you. I learnt this in class today. Nuria's offering: "He needs to be God."

Oh god, another pseudo-happy person. I'm not cynical.

OH HAPPY DAY!

What's this? Joan calls me on my cell and asks me if I've gotten the package. So I rush over to the admin offices and sign this out. DHL? Wow. I love working pals. I love you Joan.

I collect it, and Leigh wants to know what Joan has written on the packet to enable the sending through of the contents of my package. And this is what it said:

"Gift - CD containing data (stationery sets pen Holder)"

The "Pen Holder" from Bee Cheng Hiang. The Stationery Sets consist of 5 pens from Jack Links.

OH TO HAVE KNOWN SUCH VACUUM-PACKED JOY!

Thank you Joan Sng for all the joys in the world you bring to my poor Ahmedabad-Heart.

Pictionpornary

The outlined image is the original drawing done by Leigh this evening for the Pictionary game. She was laughing so hard initially when she picked up the card and just before drawing I knew what she was going to sketch. This was the product.

Congrats Leigh on the full corruption. Blame Mr. Bean.

Scripts, Pictionary & Pornopoly.

NEW! The following 8 or so photos were added at 4.33 pm on Feb 20th (Wed) 2008. So if you've already gone through most of the drawings this morning, this sorta constitutes as a new post.

This is Nuria when we were in a CCC class the other day, this message was held up for Kash on the other side of the room.

Puncture by Bertie

Bruise by Bertie

Bruise part duex by Bertie

Lamb Chops by Bertie

"Lamb" part of Lamb Chops by Bertie

Row by Nuria

Twiddling Your Thumbs by Bertie

---------------------------------------------------------------

There is something wrong with Blogger at this point so some of the photos from tonight/this morning's (it's now 4.48 am as I type this) Pictionary game didn't make it up here. But here are those that managed to get uploaded before I gave up on forcing the system to accept more:

Acupuncture by Nuria.

Squash by Melanie

Radiation by me

Strike by me

Row by me

Abandon Ship by Leigh

Abandon Ship Part Deux by Leigh, Melanie and I didn't manage to guess it in the end still.

Part of Lamp Chops by Leigh

Other part of Lamp Chops by Leigh (this is the chopping action).

Another part of Lamb Chops by Leigh

Acupuncture by me

Javelin by Melanie

"French" part of French Dressing by Nuria (the stick people are on the France previously drawn by Bertie to represent France against England for English Channel).

English Channel by Bertie

Fox by Harshal

Part of Dog Sleigh by Nuria (I think).

Trap by Nuria

Angel by Nuria

Hitchhike by me

Angel by me

Death Valley by Melanie

Train by me

Swing by Leigh (this was envisioned as Chhota's tyre-swing by her and guessed by me, we do really love that place I suppose).

Dog Sleigh by Leigh

So I Had Diarrhea Again.

This morning. And yesterday too. I suspect it's Chhota's horrendous food hygiene. Never going to eat there again. The chai seems fine. Even though they recycle the plastic cups thrown into the black bins, taking the bin to the back of the place and then washing them out. Which means that sometimes you get cups that are leaky but the dude washing didn't manage to catch it. Which is why most of the students here crush the cups before throwing them away. And even that might not prevent the saving of the cup.

I am currently reading Muhammad by Karen Armstrong, and incidentally a reason for this book's inception is because of the Rushdie Incident, which spawns from his writing of The Satanic Verses, which also happens to be the book I'm writing an essay on.

Also reading C.S. Lewis' Prince Caspian for Metaphors and Narratives class, we are supposed to revisit one of the classic books we used to read as children, then do an essay on it. I didn't read anything proper like Enid Blyton as a kid, so I suppose this is me reliving a lost childhood. It's a pretty good book, so far. I like the illustrations inside.

ALSO reading the Before Sunrise and Before Sunset screenplay by Richard Linklater and Kim Krizan (the former), and Richard Linklater, Ethan Hawke and Julie Delpy wrote the latter. It seems that India is where I'd discover Linklater. Just before getting this book I'd just watched A Scanner Darkly, and have A Waking Life waiting to be completed in my hard disk.

10 more books sit on my table waiting to be touched.

Last night I had one of the best experiences ever in MICA, and even if it all turned out oddly, I can still remember the sense of awe, fear, excitement and relief that intermingled to make up such a simple event. Let's say Tarot Card Reading (for future references). And of course, thanks to Leigh and G for making it all happen. Leigh for getting me down, G for doing what he did.

Every Ounce of Confidence.

Dear Auntie (Mothers of Friends Who Read This),

It might be said that my brain harbours some misfiring synapse but one has to be thankful for the non-emo rants I've been having as of late. Reading someone constantly whining about his ex-girlfriend from 2 years back is absolutely dreadful, and if one has to ever endure such a torturous experience, one should immediately save oneself through the closing of the browser.

Even so. Writing to Future People On Valentine's Day was homework - okay, wait - I don't mean to say that I didn't mean those words (this line is for future girl who took those words to heart), I just mean that Present Day Mothers of Friends should not base their consideration of my mental state on an entry written for homework (once again future-love don't take offence).

All this time-travelling is making me woozy. What the hell am I going on about? Well, I received this email from Nuria entitled "my mum on skype":

ok go ahead n watch. I m reading Erwin's blog on his valentine letter
to a valentine that has yet to exist. This boy leans on the strange
but i can see that he has loads of potential

And I thought to reunassure her mom. Who is reading this, and should be aware that I'm joking about this entirely. Also ignore please the first sentence of that paragraph which should make no sense to anyone whatsoever, one should not go further to connect that line to anything regarding pornographic material either.

Yes, I have loads (of potential).

Conversation That Happened Outside My Room

Dude. Do you want to play Monopoly? They're going to watch porn.
Girl. So do you want to play Monopoly or watch porn?
Dude. Are you going to watch porn?
Girl. No, I prefer to play Monopoly.

Oddest conversation I've heard in a long long while. And it happened outside my room, and incidentally... uh, never mind.

Classroom Violence

My mind is a blank right now, cause I'm in a class right now and we're watching past video adverts from the previous batches. I must have seen 20 ads on sex/aids already.

Valentine's Day was alright I suppose, there was a bit of in-house trouble, but it's resolved now. Sorta. Leigh played badminton for 3 hours +, Nuria stayed in here room making phone calls and what-not, I watched South Park before we all headed to watch the ragging.

We Came In From the Bathroom Window

The assignment we got from the lecturer when we walked into class was to write a letter to someone for Valentine's and send it to someone through SMS or email. Here's what I gave:

Dearest Darling Girl-Whom-I've-Yet-To-Know,

Greetings from the year 2008, I know this is strange but it's Valentine's Day today and it seems I need to do an assignment for CCC. This is the best course I've ever taken.

Anyway. I love you. I know you know it now, but I think this is the best time to let you know again. Through my past self. I love you, I know people say they don't know why they love someone, but in this case, my past self honestly does not know. I don't know why I love you. Honestly (in the year 2008). But I'm sure my future self will be able to recount to you all your perfect little flaws and lovely adorable imperfections.

But for now, I'll write this love letter to you based on what I think you should be like (essentially this is a criteria I think I'll be looking out for in the future, so bear with me my future love of my life):

1) I love you because you are more beautiful to me than anyone else. I do not mean you're prettier than all the other girls, but that your appearance appeals most to me. This is an isolated case.

2) I love you because you are not crazy, I am assuming that you are not, although one could argue that you are insane, for actually sticking with me.

3) I love you because you understand all the jokes I make, and even when you don't, you pretend like you do.

4) I love you because you don't spend too much money, at least not my money.

5) I love you because this cheesy message is making you smile, and your smile is all I live for each day.

6) I love you more each morning, because during the day you'll make it infuriatingly hard to be with you, but each night you give me back all the love (at least I hope you'll do) that's lost and I wake again to a new cycle.

7) I love you more each day from today, because I don't know who you are, and I can just make up my hopes each and every moment until that fateful day I meet your lips in the pouring rain, after chasing you halfway across the city even if I know you have a handphone and we're at the airport but you have no plane to catch.

8) I love you because that's the only possible thing I can feel when I'm with you.

Chinese New Years, Badmintons, Hearts & Minds

It is Day 4 of the Transcreativity lesson, and this morning's session dealt with Dream Analysis. The psychiatrist who came to see us told us stuff about dreams and how to decipher some of the symbols that might be representative of our innermost thoughts, and us COM207 students were pretty skeptical, especially when he told us that the roman numerals each have some phallic relation, for example, 3 represents male genitalia, and 4 represents female genitalia. 2 represents the anus, etc. I was alright with him telling us these things, and sharing with us some of his cases, but Kash got pretty angsty with the lecturer and began to grill him in that fashion. I was pretty stunned at the reaction that seemed to be building in her and steeled myself for some form of intervention. None was necessary in the end, cause she quit after a bit.

The afternoon session was much better. This session involved Palmistry and the original computer-aided palmist came to talk to us. I think he's the original, since he's the only one who actually bothered back in the 80s to buy a computer and scanner thing to read palms/build a database. Anyway, his English was reminiscent of the Delhi guide (but slightly better), but all was forgiven when he began to give personal palm readings after the lecture. I got chosen (once again - the course teacher has a thing about directing questions at me first before the rest) to start the ball rolling and I gladly went ahead. I was anxious to confirm the details of the previous palm reading and have the discrepancy blown wide open.

I was sorely disappointed and had my mind blown. The dude could tell my (Nuria's as well) exact age, and confirmed everything that had been read in my palm previously by our student guide. Which means that I'll be using this blog for its intended purpose longer than I expected.

And I've got to stand in the sun for 2 minutes every morning to give myself clarity.

Excuse Me If I'm Not Too Keen On Sharing.

Today was the first day of our new module called "Transcreativity". This is a 5-day workshop in which we are exposed to all kinds of art-forms and we will be able to transcend creativity and become oneisallalldesignisone. It began with a lecture, followed by Karthak (?) which is a traditional story-telling Indian dance, lunch, a sharing session, and then a magic show. The magic show was hilarious because the Magician (whose real calling in life is as a Hindu priest - I think he's Hindu, but I'm not too sure, the lecturer just said priest so I am assuming alot, but bear with me) has this extremely comic demeanour about him which just cracks anyone up. His best has got to be the way he fixes his eye on you when you've said/done something which comes across as "acting smart". Oh I had so much fun deciphering his meaning from the Hindi he spoke, amazingly I actually manage to understand what he's going on about most of the time, Nuria didn't believe me, so I checked with the Indian student next to me and I hit it on the head (the gist of what the magician was saying, not the Indian student). Tomorrow we're having something else.

This evening I walked 2 rounds around the campus with Ritz (this girl in my group for Transcreativity) and making small talk. After that we had our Chinese New Year Day 1 feast, courtesy of the Mess Hall manager who decided that he'd make for us Murgh Makhani and set up a nice long table away from the other students on the teacher's side of the mess. The food was good.

Then it was badminton again, Leigh asked for support during her badminton deathmatch and I went. So it was Harshal, Bertie and me rooting/clapping for a distraught-looking Leigh on the court.

Chhota till 0130. Walked back, showered. Goodnight world.

P.S. we've got to do a bloody skit for the module. I hate acting. I'm terrible at it, and I hate watching bad acting even more than acting badly myself.

It's the End of the World As We Know It, And All I Can Think Of Is Bak Kwa.

So the fifth line has been cut.

Considering that I was affected here when the SeaMeWe-4 line was cut, and that I felt the effects of the sudden loss of Internet immediately, I wonder what would happen if this was truly an act of sabotage intended to cripple the world.

Reading Cormac McCarthy's The Road - a novel about a father and son in a post-apocalyptic United States adds to my anxiety. I don't know if I should panic or be elated like a fanboy dreaming of the Post-Apocalyptic Steampunk world to survive in ala Mad Max or The Matrix (RL). But it complicates matters a little if I'm stuck in India.

Which gives me an idea for a post-apoc story of Singaporeans stuck in India and desperately trying to make it back home. Here is my plan for the end of civilisation as I know it if the stock markets and world order crashes as a result of the sabotage of oceanic fibre-optic lines:

1. Establish a safety zone around and within MICA.
2. Venture out after enough supplies have been gathered and
3. The trip back home has been planned effectively
4. Get weapons along the way.
5. Survive brigands and warlords.
6. Fight off the zombies/mutants/monsters/old gods
7. Live on till we make it through Burma, Thailand and Malaysia.
8. Rebuild back in Singapore.

On a lighter note, we had our Reunion Dinner at Mirch Masala, which is a decent meat-serving restaurant here in Ahmedabad. We had Leigh's favourite Murgh Makhani (butter chicken), kebab platter and cheese naan. They make a mean cheese naan there.

We had discussions on The Competitive Nature of Harshal In Regards To Badminton, Thesis on the Bunch of Cynical Bastards Badminton Team: Being All Fun and Polite Games, Wondering The Necessity of Exaggeration and Hello, Hi, Who's This? Leigh's Phonecall Overheard.

Then we returned to MICA, had drinks (non-alcoholic, chai, coffee, nimboo pani which is limewater, coke or Bournvita which is like hot chocolate) at MICAFE sometimes called TT (Tongue Tickler - this place is a confused place because it has so many names), then moved with Bertie to Chhota where we (Leigh, Me and Bertie) sat for the next 2 hours or so talking about random things.

Leigh has all the photos of the "celebrations", Nuria has the photos of the food. Check out their blogs on the sidebar. I've also come to the understanding that the French people are having a sort of parallel situation to ours, and it is uncanny how things develop (dare-vhere-lope) in a similar fashion for people of different cultures/nationalities. More on this when I return back home.

I need to sleep now. I can't give any more years and longevity to my parents. Goodnight everyone, happy Chinese New Year to one and all.

Chinese New Year Isn't Going According to Plan

I think I should start a sideline business of retrieving keys from doors. Just today I found Kash's keys left in her doorknob, which I subsequently returned to her after some needling about her tendency to lose things.

After a long afternoon of badminton, I find Nuria's keys left in her doorknob. So I took it and now it's hanging from the router plug.


Tonight we'll be going to the kebabs place Masty's for a sorta-Reunion Dinner, considering that we did not manage to get the cook to cook for us, and the hassle it was going to take to do everything last minute. So we'll eat out. Leigh's friend sent her some goodies (which of course she kindly offered to the rest of us) from back home, prompting Nuria to begin her own rendition of the Chinese New Year dong-dong-dong-chiang song. I had to walk past her as she started up, and my facial expression is exactly like the one of Kyle in the previous entry.

This is Leigh unwrapping her boxed present from back home.

This is how pleased Leigh looked with herself as she took out each container in turn. She was really grinning like a ravenous wolf. Cut me some slack if you don't like the metaphor.

Drats! We should have taken some Leadership, Culture and Communication course, it's about 2 AUs worth back home, and it's some oddball module that involves yoga, drawing on mahjong paper and talking about one's feelings. With no exam. Drats! Oh well, we've got Transcreativity which will have musicians, dancers and hypnotists. All this is fun and good, but the other modules are giving us a headache.

So tonight it'll be Reunion Dinner with the people I've seen everyday here for the past 40 days (approx.). I haven't felt the whole homesickness thing yet, though I think it might be time for me to feel a little of it considering that it's Chinese New Year and all. Okay! Since it's Chinese New Year's Eve, and the fact that I'm two-and-a-half hours behind Singapore time, I shall stay up much later than usual to ensure my parents get a long and healthy life. All I ask in return might be that Dad learns patience (so I can emulate him cause I'm beginning to 1. Lose hair, 2. have weird stomach upsets, 3. spill things during dinner and 4. give off kan cheong vibes), and Mom learns to chill and not worry about things that need to worrying about. By the way Mom, I've been trying to get you for the past few hours but you're not in the office, dad doesn't call me back and sis doesn't remember about my free incoming. So I can't reach you.

Right now the Indian students (I always feel a twinge of guilt whenever I write stuff like that, cause of all the racial harmony national education back home, in my head now "Indian" has connotations of race and not nationality - which is what I mean here, nationality, not race, Miss Jacobs should be eating her foot now, fancy calling me a rascist and believing that evil fucktard of a kid - I've been traumatized for life and approach matters of race with trepidation) are outside playing another game of cricket. We still don't understand how this game can evoke such emotion from the audience and people standing around, but I guess it comes with a certain level of having participated in the game and actually knowing the rules. But still.

Today Is MICA Day

So today was MICA Day. Essentially it is the day that MICA was "born" into this world and so every year they celebrate the institution's birthday. The tradition here is to have a day's worth of celebrations, beginning with a Luncheon on the lawn, then a Teacher's-Day-like performance, and ends off with Sankalp which is like their Paparazzi.

The luncheon was pretty cool, cause I like lawn lunches and this one didn't really disappoint. There was a little confusion with the setting up of 3 stations though, 2 served Indian food and the 3rd had "Chinese" food. This means that you get 黄面 mixed with some sauce, or kway teow mixed with another kind of sauce. They call it chop suey here.

Then we had the afternoon performance which is the one time that the students get to make fun of their lecturers through doing impressions of them, and also the day the teachers dance and sing for the students. It was quite a riot seeing the school director and registrar (both serious looking wizened oldish-looking gentlemen) both dancing along to some Bollywood songs side-by-side the admin/technical staff.

Due to my lack of imagination and speed, we did not manage to get a photo of my face throughout the proceedings. Hence, this picture provided by South Park should give you a clue. And yes, this was the face I had on most of the afternoon as stranger and stranger things happened on stage. There was a solo dance act that mimed a movie song-and-dance sequence,
there was giving out of 5-year long-service awards, there was freestyle Hindi "poetry slam" of sorts (because I don't know what the hell the dude was going on about, but he'd recite a few lines, the students would cheer and then the 3 other male faculty - this dude's one of the technicians - would begin to dance with him in a celebratory fashion. Hence:


It should also be mentioned that the stage and lights and music was almost exactly like getai back home. I've got a video that should give one an inkling, but I'm lazy at the moment to load it up.

We played Ultimate Frisbee in the evening till it was too dark to see anything, then moved to play badminton on a fortuitous day when everyone had gone to see the plays. We finished up, showered then went for dinner, after which we decided to pop by the 4/4th play that was still going on.

And then I step in to a familiar sight of Harold Pinter's Mountain Language. It is a very short play, so we were out of there pretty quickly.

Day 38: So About Last Night...

Heritage walk in the morning yesterday, photographs soon. It was pretty alright, I was a little too lazy to take off my shoes and move inside some of the temples, but I wasn't feeling learny yesterday.

We (The Bunch of Cynical Bastards) did the whole decrepit old people sitting outside (my room) again right before we headed to the party, and that's where I revealed to everyone the magic that is the "Deathstar Canteen" by Eddie Izzard, and also the "Superfriends" mash-up. Go watch both things on Youtube, I'm too lazy to link it right now.

Oh, it was also the screen of "PAT on the Back", which the Frenchies hadn't seen yet. We also spent the entirety of yesterday exercising, we had Badminton in our hall's courtyard, with a frisbee game going on across the makeshift badminton court - essentially meaning that one's head could be taken off with a flying frisbee whilst attempting to hit a shuttlecock, or that you might take someone's head off if they didn't just miss that play.

There was a pre-Party at Bertie's room, it was here that we spent the better part of the evening watching music videos recommended by Bertie and listening to his extensive lesson in music, whilst witnessing the magic that is Peer Pressure. And the coolness that is Solidarity In Numbers. Right after that we had the alumni meet's culmination at Chhota, then-converted into a dance-floor beneath the stars. There were laser lights and a DJ who occasionally played House and R&B, so those were the good parts. The Bhangra part of it I didn't enjoy so much, cultural differences and language barriers I suppose?

It is also amazing how a Residential Campus society functions, and the kinds of things one might be able to witness. I haven't seen half the things that are happening here, but I'll be sure to give you all the lowdown if I get a foot in. Or, I could just go my own touristy way. I don't know, we'll see.

Right now I'm going to work on the video a little bit more, maybe do my readings for tomorrow's class (maybe), do some reading of the book I'm supposed to review, wonder about the magnificence that is life, then go to bed.

Diarrhea, Or Something Like It.

I don't know if there's something going seriously wrong with my digestive system, but I think I'm cool with it. As in, as long as it stands with the new argument I've formulated for myself in order to avoid risking going to the doctors here (an experience in itself I wish to never have). Here's my theory on why I've been needing to go to the loo at least once a day for the past week or so:

1. My body is not used to a vegetarian diet, and all this fibre going into me now is rushing to get out cause the system doesn't recognise it, or recognises it all too well as vegetables.

2. 21 years of eating meat for every meal and avoiding vegetables is finally taking its toll, and the body is taking the opportunity to PURGE.

3. The body got used to the veg diet when I first arrived, with the mind overworking to keep the body adaptable to the prospect of a daily-veg-diet, but I went to Delhi, had beef in every meal, enjoyed too much good food there and now it's revolting against the sight of MICA Mess Food.

4. The Beef I consumed is sacred in this country and anyone who eats it is cursed to spend a part of each day in the toilet enduring the fumes of bodily gases and melted "playdough" shit.

5. The Chocolate Cake of Upper Crust is just nonsense compared to the desserts had in Delhi, and so the body is revolting, or a combination of this and the good food in Delhi argument.

6. I ate something wrong that had worm eggs in it and now there's a worm residing in me which would explain my insatiable hunger and stomach aches. This seems rather plausible, but I've been observing my stools (which is what everyone does in the toilet but will never admit) and it doesn't seem to show any signs of dead worms.

I shall go to the doctors in about 5 more days if it doesn't clear up, or if the situation gets worse. Do not worry, I am well-aware of the state of affairs in my anal tract, and will take the necessary steps to safeguard my health. If anything else develops, I'll be sure to take a photo and describe in (all-too-graphic) detail what came about. Cool?

Now back to South Park and wondering about the Body and Technology and Cyberspace (learnt in Metaphors and Narratives class today).

Tomorrow there's the Alumni Meet which is when all the old students are invited back to MICA for 2 days, and alcohol will be available, a dance floor with a professional DJ will be constructed, and drunken debauchery will reigh supreme before our very eyes. Yes, we will be there, we will be watching everything and laughing our heads off - we've all heard stories of people sleeping with one another during this 2-day event. Woohoo. Wait in eager anticipation dear reader, and for the parents who actually read this blog, don't worry, your daughters are in safe hands.

Not mine of course, I'll send you pictures of whose. That's if I'm not preoccupied with the entertainment parading before me of course (but seriously, I'll watch out for them).

"Don't worry" has got to be the worst line in the history of Man.