This blog effectively died months, maybe even years ago, but every once in a while it serves its purpose - to mark time, to indulge, to reminisce.

Senior year of university was difficult. Friendships exploded, thesis writing was exhausting, there were always too many dishes to do, and it was cold. With the end of May came graduation, and we walked through the gates, exuberant but unprepared.

It is too early to be an adult and my plans for the future are as yet undetermined.

This summer I am in Hong Kong, as I have been the past two summers, working for Summerbridge. However, unlike previous summers, I am not teaching, but managing a staff of 27. Daunting, for someone who is barely out of school and definitely not licensed in any way to train teachers. I live my life without pausing, and the nights roll into the mornings, afternoon, and so on. I blink, and a week has passed. It reminds me of secondary school days in Singapore. I'm not sure I want my life to be this fast, this intense, but truth be told, I don't think I know any other way.

There are a lot of things I wish went better. I try to live my life without regrets, but I fear that as I get older, I might be failing.

Boast of Quietness


Writings of light assault the darkness, more prodigous than meteors.
The tall unknowable city takes over the countryside.
Sure of my life and death, I observe the ambitious
and would like to understand them.
Their day is greedy as a lariat in the air.
Their night is a rest from the rage within steel, quick to attack.
They speak of humanity.
My humanity is in feeling we are all voices of the same poverty.
They speak of homeland.
My homeland is the rythym of a guitar, a few portraits, an old sword,
the willow grove's visible prayer as evening falls.
Time is living me.
More silent than my shadow, I pass through the loftily covetous multitude.
They are indispensible, singular, worthy of tomorrow.
My name is someone and anyone.
I walk slowly, like one who comes from so far away
he doesn't expect to arrive.

- Jorge Luis Borges

The City
by CP Cavafy

You said: “I shall go to some other land, I shall go to some other sea.
Another city there must be, better than this.
My every effort here is a sentence of condemnation against me,
and my heart —like a corpse— lies buried.
How long shall my mind remain smothered in this blight?
Wherever I turn my eye, wherever I look,
I see the black ruins of my life
where I spent and spoiled and ruined so many years.”

Fresh lands you shall not find, you shall not find other seas.
The city shall ever follow you.
In streets you shall wander that are the same streets and
grow old in quarters that are the same
and among these very same houses you shall turn grey.
You shall always be returning to the city. Hope not;
there is no ship to take you to other lands, there is no road.
You have so spoiled your life here in this tiny corner
that you have ruined it in all the world.

--

which city would this be, for me?

Things That Please Me:

• Making the MTR just as the doors close.
  
• The ding-ding of the tram as it is about to leave the stop.
  
• High ceilings, glass windows.
  
• Warm egg tarts with flaky shells.
  
• Listening to other people describe their life philosophies.
  

After more than 5 years, I thought I was going to officially end this blog.

However, as life tends to do, I'm writing yet another post after more than 1.5 months absence. It has been an eventful 1.5 months, to say the least. Writing helps me to process and digest, and for those of you who continue to cling onto this blog, you will be treated to a fiesta of verbal diaorrhea. I apologize in advance.

I left Cairo in the midst of a blossoming, unusual romance, carrying with me my clothes (shabbier), a star-shaped lamp (shiny), blackened lungs, and a year's experiences. At the Cairo International Airport, I flirted one more time with Egyptian ridiculosity as they confiscated my beloved, EMPTY lime green waterbottle because it might carry explosive... air particles? Four security guards (2 helpful, 2 antagonistic) and I exchanged arguments in broken Arabic and English, with plenty of hand gestures and disgruntled expressions all around. My waterbottle was thrown into a large rubbish bin, then retrieved, then washed, and then confiscated again, then put into a special bag and checked-in through to New York all by its lonesome, while I watched bewildered and extremely annoyed.

In New York, I decided against waiting for my waterbottle in favour of making my connecting flight.

California was much as I remembered. The comfort of home is a dangerous thing, and I did naught but sleep and eat and shop for the next 10 days. Alex and Ling visited from Brown, in California for a Taiko convention in Irvine. We drove a lot, saw a replica Dutch town, saw the movie Up!, and ate good Mexican food. Life is easy in America and even more so at home. For the first time in a year, I had access to dryer softener sheets, and my clothes came out whiter, brighter and softer than ever before.

I arrived in Hong Kong in the mid-day heat, the blast of humidity greeting me as I stepped off the plane. It was much taller and much more crowded than I remembered. My memory is tainted by Cairo, of course, which has more than 2 times the number of people, but is not nearly as densely populated. My service apartment was tiny with barely enough room to turn around, but completely outfitted with tv, dvd player, fridge, table, phone, wireless, bathroom etc. My birthday passed uneventfully and I turned legal to drink in America, though that didn't matter

Work began slowly, but ended just as things were gearing up, with swine flu and a paranoid government to blame. We sank into a collective depression and panic simultaneously, suddenly left without summer plans and for me, no work visa and no place to stay.

A week passed by, so long yet so short, as we called students about the cancellation, dealt with the aftermath, and tried to figure out our own lives... and partying a lot, given our suddenly unemployment. I became acquainted with the international school circles, discovered them to be
crazy partiers, raging alcoholics with disposable incomes, and a rather incestuous bunch.

Within 24 hours, I received a place to stay here until the end of July, news of a volunteer opportunity with a refugee service centre in the sketchiest building in Hong Kong - Chunking Mansions, a job offer with Providence Summerbridge, made the difficult decision to stay in Hong Kong, and danced on a bar.

Since then, life has calmed down somewhat, though life in Hong Kong just tends to be faster paced in general. Living on HK Island has been nice; I have discovered the tram, explored new areas, and will be living in a swank hotel until I leave. A swank hotel in the middle of a wet market, no less.

Today we went to Sai Kung amidst heavy rain, hoping that on the other side of Hong Kong, the weather would be dry enough to hike to a waterfall. But alas, luck was not on our side and it was a trip of misadventures. We failed at hiking. We boated to a small island hoping to find what looked like a cool cove, only to start on the trail and have it pour (So we turned back and ate dessert instead). We didn't eat seafood, for which Sai Kung is famed. But it was cool to be out of the HK city centre, even for a couple hours. Sai Kung is larger and more urban than I expected.

This summer has been completely unexpected on so many levels, and I am still mourning the loss of Summerbridge, but when life gives you lemons, you better start squeezing. On the positive side, I now have time to reflect on Cairo, on Hong Kong, on my future. I have started a Fulbright app, which will require much time and preparation. Perhaps I will write my senior thesis on refugees in Hong Kong. Possibilities are still endless, and life, if nothing, is always interesting.

T-minus 3 days.

Excuse me while I throw a shit fit. o_O 0_o

By then: 6000 words + 20 pages + 6 pages + 2000 words + 2-part arabic final.

ooohboy.

17 Days

My last post is riddled with grammatical errors. Woe, woe. I speaks no eenglish no' mo'.