It is suggested that the year was nothing short of epic for me. How can I not agree? My sails were hit by turbulence from day one. I gained new experiences, broke a few things, found one. Here's to summing up 2013.
Broken things.
First, there was the breakup. I had thought that a relationship was always supposed to have marriage in mind, and that two people should go through thick and thin together no matter what. I held on to it even when there was little meaning left. The consolation is that we parted ways in good faith, up to this day. There were lessons learned. I learned that resilience was not the answer to everything; some things you must let go. I learned that love and respect remedied any bitter feelings that possibly stemmed from a breakup.
After the breakup resolutions were made. Among them, the want for travel. And also to stay single for a while, well, definitely for the rest of 2013. Solitude was something I wanted to master.
But something inside my core ruptured. I used to be quick to forgive, and I didn't know how to hold grudges. Later in the year I would discover that putting things behind me has become hard. The cold steel of my arguments is what I work with now. 'Nice and proper' aren't my terms anymore. It could be that I am tired of all the dirt thrown at me and it seems that I am retaliating, not leaving it up to God. Just earlier last year I remember being fine. I remember one of my first encounters of prejudice against Sarawakians. In an inter-church thing (yes, let's go to church), a bright aunty who taught add maths decided to strike a conversation with me. Along the way, to her surprise, I was Sarawakian! Oh golly how could these hoots know English! She then began her quest to figure it all out, dismissing my suggestion that it was a historically common medium for Sarawakians yadayada - my whole social circle knew how to speak English. Finally she had a brainwave! Why of course, I have worked a month here. What a wonderful colleagues I have who care to teach me English! I didn't even so much as offer a snide remark then. Part of me wishes that happened around now, with the new found firebrand in me.
Change
I had been living in a room not much better than a box with a window that was closed most of the time. The idea was broached by a friend in a random meet up. And suddenly I was living in something that had some semblance to a room. There were people to talk to, a dog to play with, roti canai sessions ... and I cooked. I fried stuff.
My passion for debate returned. It had been dead right about the time I left college with badminton trudging in. Although it has taken a hiatus since that fiery start, the surge of interest in apologetics and philosophy continues.
Travel
2013 has marked the first time I did any long distance driving. There was Ipoh, Kedah, and Cameron. Other destinations include Sunway Lagoon, KL (twice), Hatyai (where I finally got my childhood wish of eating worms, grasshoppers and crickets). Traveling is all about stashing up a repertoire of life experiences. Some though, aren't pleasant. With Hatyai came a tale of untold suffering, where I mistook a cili padi for a juicy, succulent worm in a dark van in the middle of nowhere. It seems that my resolution to travel is fulfilled even without me trying.
Conflict
I remember being grateful that my life had no big dramas. I even started to doubt the validity of personality clashes. This year though, I had a few. Much of it happened when I was voluntarily giving out; when I felt that the other end was receiving it wrongly. Fully aware that giving does not involve an expectation of repayment, I wasn't expecting any. But I took issue when it was taken for granted. The first such clash was when I was criticized when playing the piano for church. But I guess that happens. Humans have always been masters of criticism and very poor doers. The 2nd clash came when I found some time for breakfast during Sunday School. I was told off for leaving the premises even during a time when I was not functionally needed. The reason being that every Sunday School teacher's 'presence' was important (even when they were sitting around doing nothing), and any lack of it will do considerable harm to morale. I vehemently contested that service can still be effective without ONE Sunday School teacher who was not on duty anyway. Since I am being stretched to serve in the main service as well, I suggested that it also served to energize (breakfast & coffee!) me. It ended in tears for the aunty and bewilderment for me.
The 3rd one was that of being treated like what I term a 'Global Citizen'. I was devoting some part of my personal schedule to training a debate club after being pulled in by my house mate. I didn't know it was part of a trainer's job in ensuring everyone had a good time at the movies. I didn't know I was obliged to be a good moderator in ensuring quality conversation, making sure each 21 year old was actively engaged. Woe is me if someone felt ignored! That I was at fault for not conversing with my back passenger as much as I did my front passenger. That I was at fault for making my passengers walk 20 metres to my car after offering to drive. I'd always imagined that I was devoting some of my own time to them, for free. A debate trainer who drove them from the hostels to dinner, then to the training venue, for supper, then back to their hostels, for free. I didn't know that I was viewed as a paid nanny. This was really a culture shock for me as much of the 15 year olds back home didn't act like that. I vented to Brendan (the other Global - erm, trainer) in frustration at the state of church girls (as that was the common denominator). He theorized that all those years of being entitled to queen's treatment and stepping on the heads of kind church aunties and uncles made the girls very expectant. Queens quite naturally viewed everyone else as subjects.
The next incident came quite after that. It was no different. I was asked to provide transportation for some youths on a Saturday morning to a rice museum. And so I drove some 150 km through the interstate heat and then 150 km back. I'd imagine that I had at least a right to select which songs to play in my very own vehicle that I am paying for through my nose. That notion remains a figment of my imagination. The youth asked nicely 3 times on whether she could have her choices, so I declined 3 times in clear language backed up by clear rationale (that much I could offer) - I am the driver and the undisputed, unelected, tyrannical despot of my car. Unperturbed by the function of speech and the underlying message of my communique, the youth carried on. She, then proceeded to pout and called mum (I was thinking that there must be a different formula to age in these parts. Divide by 2 perhaps.). As an end resort, she turned up the volume of her phone and blasted Justin Bieber or something through the speakers for much of the way back with no regards to the sick passenger at the back - who was a seeker and a guest of the church. To make the trip bearable, I turned off my selection. Shock and awe, anyone? Nonetheless, her mum had a few justifications.
I am told that she asked nicely 3 times. But I don't remember 'niceness' as being a currency to agreement, especially when it is done in the pretext of soliciting a favour. I am told that perhaps when there are people in my car, they are my guests and should be treated as such. Just because. You are compelled to wake up on a Saturday morning after a rough week, fill up your tank even with rising fuel prices, drive them safely 150 km to and fro being 110% alert on the road, so they can have fun - and ... they are your guests. I trust my upbringing that when someone is willing to give you a lift; YOU go out of your way to accommodate them. Ah, But, but then...her dad - yeah, her dad may buy into manipulative gooey eyed expressions that I deem ridiculous. Too bad. 'Understand' that her day was less than ideal? Ask me about my day, if I could get much sleep the night before, or for the past week!
No, it gets better. Well she, is a girl. And girls should be treated with luv. I wanted to slap myself, then slap her, then slap my friend who was with us in attempt to wake us all up from this drunken charade. But there was a newborn around and I didn't want to wake it, because I have luv. Isn't this the very reason her son has such low self esteem? Because males do not deserve the measure of 'luv' females do. Because they have an obligation to put their sisters on pedestals - made up of their heads. Oh, but you must understand...she is only 18. 18? Is 18 the new 9? Can I please go and flip some burgers?
Wait...Paul...is wanting attention...wrong? (Supply this line with an absolutely hurt, gooey eyed expression with just the right amount of quiver to the voice) Aww. Nah, wanting attention is not wrong. Excuse me while I just bomb somewhere to get some.
And what's an end to a post without one final, epic, quote:
"But as her mom, I'm not trying to defend her."
