JYSim for jobless-yokel Sim

For a long, long time I resisted the temptation of setting up another
blog space other than my previous one in friendster. The first
generation friendster blog has more than 110 posts now and it’s always
a comfort to review them whenever I feel reminiscent of the old days.
The other great (and sometimes annoying) feature about friendster is
whenever you update your blog they’ll send messages to everyone in your
friend list blasting about the update. It’s always a pleasure to get
noticed.
Nevertheless, the time has come to move forward. I was
complaining on how few the comments on friendster had been, and that’s
when my roommate commented "who’d post comments on your blog? They’ll
have to sign up for friendster first and wind their way to your blog."
All
right, I blog for comments and glory, I’d like to see my blog burst
with comments and CNN reports on ‘JYSim for Jobless-Yokel Sim’ or now
‘Randomly JYSim’. I’m an attention-seeker in the virtual world. So,
it’s time to switch.
Switch: http://jysim.blogspot.com/

My English, which is usually more fluent than the average Taiwan medical student here, gets me into lots of trouble. First, it’s being selected as the Leading Exchange Officer (or LEO) of the Standing Committee of Professional Exchange (or SCOPE). Then, it’s having to accompany dozens of incoming exchange students to their first dinner, welcoming party, hospital registration and farewell party. What I least expected is to become a correspondent for a German choir performing for the weekend at school.
Of course, I’m the president of the choir, and yes, I have a little responsibility in promoting the beauty of chorus in the school, but I have never expected a contemporary a cappella (modern no-accompaniment choral singing) band will see any audience in a remote town like Hualien, and in a Buddhist university like TCU.
I honestly like my job. I get along well with people I meet for not longer than 2 months, and I get to claim expenses from the school for every single penny spent with the guest(s).
The Stouxingers is a German choir currently with 5 CDs under their belt. 5 men and 1 woman - MIchael, Gregorio, Konrad, Karsten, Thomas and Katharina. With just 6 microphones, they can produce sounds beyond your imagination - trumpets, drums, horse stamping on the floor, cats, eagles, wind billowing and strolls bellowing. Their songs are really groundbreaking with the complexity of their voices interwoven with different elements of music - all using only their mouth and throat.
If you imagine chorus as 3 rows of men and women wearing airline-like uniforms singing and lulling you to sleep, then the Stouxingers will thunder you wide awake. They repackaged chorus with groovy jazz, rap (the only rap that I actually like, and being meaningful), and church pop it’s impossible not to stand up and dance along with the music.
The choir arrived at Hualien at 11am last Thursday. After settling them in their rented apartments, I went to pick them up for lunch at 12.15. The whole lunch hay-ho lasted till 2pm, in which they questioned every single item on the menu and have the fancy Chinese names translated to English. They were a joyous crowd nonetheless. Gregorio (the black guy) have so much Jieyang in him it took me great persistence not to call him ‘hey Jieyang!’ While Thomas (the guy with wet, curly hair) played around with his chopsticks (and dropping 3 pairs in the process), Michael (bald guy) and Katharina were speaking to me in animated motions it’s hard not to laugh out loud.

That night they performed at the Hualien Cultural Center. One hour prior the crowd was really little, and they were really worried about singing to the dogs instead of people. However, soon their musicality attracted approximately a hundred passers-by.
The next day, after a long delay due to the rain and their morning hangover, we went according to 1/4 of the plan of the day - to visit the Hualien beach front. Similarly, after very much hay-ho about the glass-colored waves and beautiful stones on the shore and airplanes taking off from the runway just behind the beach, we went for lunch. It was pure fun to see 6 adults acting like schoolchildren during mealtimes.
The scheduled second concert in the school was on 7.30pm. However, by 6.45 the line spans from the hall entrance down the steps, across the walkway and a 90 degree turn into a corridor. Everybody knew it was a sellout by 7 sharp.
The crowd danced, whooped, and was completely mesmerized by divine voices of the Stouxingers for the following 2 hours. It was a great pity we had a class meeting and none of my classmates is able to attend. However, it’s also a little of my pleasure to see many people I knew turned up.
The successful concert marks Stouxingers’ final night in Taiwan. Due to an orientation camp the following day, I wasn’t able to celebrate with them. I promised I’ll visit them one day in Germany (the same promise was also made to my host family in Italy, my Dad’s students in Japan, Germany, America, and also my aunt in New Zealand). With heavy hearts, I left with their CD and autograph, together with a signed poster wishing our choir ‘great harmony and all the best’.

Traffic lights shudder,
trees bend, razor-leaves zoomed past.
"This is the end of the world if there’s one"
I thought.
Lights flicker, and my monitor
went off. Beyond the window,
a grayish blur.
Bushes, trash, rain, leaves,
a killing velocity; frighteningly
melancholic.
The air thunders with anger;
The city shuts down, abiding
the forces of nature.
Huddling, we watched Spielberg.
Peter laughs at me
because I cried
when Celie and Nettie meets;
after 40 years of exile.
"Only death will part me from her!"
Strings. Let It Be. Beatles.
The murderous leaves found its way indoors.
The floor was littered with dust
and sad displaced victims of the typhoon.
Water droplets flew by horizontally.

8.58am - calm skies dotted
with gray clouds
tender but sad
tired and unmotivated.
Lust. (Love). Caution.
Unforgettable images; love
comes with insecurity.
Insecure.
no more.
Because I found
friendship.
Undisturbed.

Holidays. Weekends. Typhoon(s).
"Your medical school seems relaxed"
Soon Khen says.
Not anymore.
Caring those who doesn’t bother;
Bothering those who doesn’t care.
Mentally tired.
I wear no mask.
This is the genuine me.
Anger no more.
Tired, as the skies are.

I’ve lost too much nerve and brain cells recently I cannot truly recall many incidences that happened last week. The following week will seem as insane to you as it is to me, but though much of me is degenerated over the past week, they still leave imprints inside my hollow shell.
9/26 (Wednesday) - it was the first schooling day after mid-autumn festival, which I spent happily and relaxingly in my friend’s place at Kaoshiung. The day was fine with typical Hualien weather and lessons were boring as usual. Humid, stifling air filled the classrooms as my German teacher pronounced ‘r’ which sounds like spitting from the deepest area of your throat. I had dinner and went back to the dorm praying for a peaceful night of Biochemistry and maybe a report or two to be completed. I was too good-natured. I went to meet my Italian exchange student at 10.30pm, and the first thing he told me after the holiday was that his passport, along with his backpack, was lost.
I pretended to stay calm even though my insides were screaming ‘WHAT THE HECK YOU STUPID BABOON! LOSING YOUR PASSPORT IS AS WELL AS LOSING YOUR LIFE ESPECIALLY IN A NON-UN COUNTRY LIKE TAIWAN!’ The human mind is a strange creature. When it accepts truth far beyond its acceptance limits it will deny it, and slowly you yourself thinks it’s a lie. So, being a responsible exchange officer I said I’ll report this matter to the Office of International Affairs (OIA) and bid goodnight, escaping before he can say ‘but-’
The next day I slowly came to realize that he will be in grave danger should he got involve in any littlest trouble - littering, or paying 2 dollars less for his Coke. Grudgingly I went to the hospital and played Inspector for 30 minutes. Then I red-alerted the officers in the OIA.
After several adrenalin-filled moments they reported his passport is found, along with is backpack at the Tzu Chi Monestary. I thanked every God in the world and sang prayers in languages ranging from Italian to Afrikaans. If the passport is really lost he’ll be deported back as a refugee, and Tzu Chi will be marked as a center of passport thieving.
9/28 (Friday) - after the emotional episode of the lost passport, my Italian exchange student thought it will be a good idea to challenge Jun Yi’s cardiovascular abilities by telling him that his Italian girlfriend is pregnant and he is required to fly home as soon as possible. (take deep breath) You see, when you go on an exchange you sign a Rule Form which binds you to certain rules, namely, possibly no early return. And as you can see, the Exchange Officer is extremely busy these few days looking for your passport as well as drafting the business turnaround plan for the school choir. If you think it’s great to add on to the workload you’re extremely welcome to request an early return and I will have to empty an entire afternoon to complete the early-return procedures for Mr. Dad-to-be (exhale deep breath).
Nevertheless, being Mr. Nice Guy of course I said ‘congratulations! that’s wonderful!’ After hopping over several casual topics I firmly said I will not be able to process his early return stuff till (maybe) end of this week. Amen.
9/30 (Sunday) - I woke up at 8.30, drank some tea, and spent my idle Sunday morning munching toast and flipping Biochemistry. This illusion is soon over when my phone rang, displaying a caller ID with weird number sequences. ‘Hi, it’s Marc!’ Another exchange student. I went to the train station at 10.30, settled him in his dorm at 11.30, and went back munching my toast till 12.30. At 2.00, after having lunch with Marc and some of my classmates, I did a catch-up of local news at the school library. We started our Biochemistry group discussion at 3.30, ending a little after 4.30. My chorus welcoming party preceded from 5.30 to 8.30 soon, and at 9 I was discussing about the exchange conditions for future outgoing students with my partner on SCOPE. At 10 we were briefed by our seniors about the IFMSA stuff before realizing we have another load of paperwork to be completed. I frequented between my computer, the study table and the bathroom over the next 3 hours, finally collapsing at 1am. This is the last living day of Sim Jun Yi.

I was chatting with my junior on MSN yesterday night, after the Welcoming Party of the International Students’ Club. As you might probably remember my junior shares the same birthdate as me, so from the first moment I saw him I got the creepy feeling that I am actually talking to my duplicate self. At first glance you’ll notice that we both have the same small eyes, same charming smile (heh) and probably the same cheeky expression, just that he does not have eyebrows as thick as mine.
The only difference I noticed is that my duplicate self finds himself more comfortable in the school environment compared to myself when I was here last year. I do not only see a little of myself in him, but also how he fared better than me. I saw the blunders and mistakes I made last year as a freshman - overly confident and a little arrogant (as with most Chung Ling students). I am glad he does not follow my footsteps, and I sincerely hopes his 7-years here will be happy and smooth-sailing.
It’s mid-autumn festival exactly one week after school started. This also marks I’ve been away from home for more than one year. You might have heard this thousands of times before from my blog, but this one year came and went with much pains and gains. Having literally battled myself into a medical school, I assumed studying medicine would be a long hard war with books and cadavers and lectures. I bury myself in the library almost everyday, not knowing the golden period for co-curricular activities lies during the first and second year of your medical education. I missed out a lot of fun we share as a wholesome class, and I was lonely. I overworked myself not knowing what Medicine requires of us is actually only a small fragment of the effort I invested.
And during those darkest period I sincerely thank my best friend Tsan who automatically approached me and brought a little joy into my miserable life. I was touched by his sincerity during the early months - he was mostly there when I don’t feel good about a certain issue or when I had problems with adapting myself in a strange environment. The parallel lives we lead during the early months was both meaningful and memorable for me. Nevertheless, as our lessons got more demanding and as he is kept more and more busy with co-curricular activities I dwindled deeper yet into the labyrinth of darkness again. Long after we’ve left these memorable months behind, I will still recall the carefree days when he insisted I wear a raincoat when I pillion his motorcycle. I gave thanks to Almighty and him for a harbour of comfort, and I asks for apologies in the event that I scarred both our feelings, which I did numerous times in the course of our friendship. Impulsiveness.
Now comes a second friend who provided warmth and comfort during the winter months. My senior who always listens silently and gave advice which not necessarily helps but definitely provided comfort was there with me until I board the plane home for Chinese New Year. It was his Year 3, but he’s always willing to spend time listening to my troubles and worries all the while.
As I step into a more-challenging second year it’s often good to be able to look back at the good-but-painful old days when I literally learned by falling down and climbing up again. I know now that my attitude and Chung-Ling arrogance played an important part causing the pain, but I am glad I recovered from these falls quickly enough to have a small network of friends now. I shed away the Chung-Ling arrogance (which isn’t necessarily bad by the way), and learned to be more tolerant. I am proud to have inherited the famous Malaysian hospitality, which I find useful in my SCOPE jobs.
I am still trying to abandon the typical Peter-Pan syndrome, to think from other perspectives and to look at things from all 360 degrees. With God’s strength I hope I will end this semester (and these 6 years) being a better person. To Hueih Ling (if you’re reading this I hope you persevered up till now), taking things easy will sometimes produce unexpected (and better) results. To my junior (even though you might not read this), I sincerely hope you, my duplicate self, will be happy and fares better than the original self (and now I’m confused as to whom is the duplicate and who’s the original). To Tsan and the senior, thank you for everything.

The 300-seater A330 was only filled with 158 passengers as it soars over the skies of Tai-Chung before landing in Taoyuan International Airport. 6.47pm, and it’s already as dark as the Malaysian 8pm. I met my 3rd Mum (first Mum being Mum, second Mum being my babysitter) Aunt Qiu Xia less than an hour later at downtown Taipei before we haul up all 40kgs of baggage into her car. And I was home again.
The next day I weave my way through the elite districts of Taipei looking for the Malaysia Airlines Ticketing Office. The officer told me to get off at Nanking E. Road MRT station and to locate the baseball stadium, the office is just opposite the stadium. What she did not tell me is that I will still have to walk across 2 sections (as in from Midlands to Gurney) to be able to locate the stadium. Nevertheless, the ticketing process took less than 15 minutes and at a quarter to 10 I was out and breakfast-hunting. I walked into Ikea Taipei, which is just 2 units away and paid NT$39 for scrambled eggs, 2 pieces of ham, a huge bun, and bottomless coffee.
A few hours later I was juggling with my 40kgs of luggage in Hualien Train Station, aided by my senior, I managed to pull all of them up the malfunctioned elevator without breaking anything. The moment I stepped into my room I abandoned for more than 2 months, I dropped everything and switched on the computer. I Skype-d back home but nobody’s there to answer. After several attempts I hastily packed some tau sar pneah and rush out for a meeting-cum-dinner. Thanks to my patient senior, I finally came to know what the committee I’m representing the university, SCOPE, stands for. It’s actually the Standing Committee Of Professional Exchange, a subcommittee tied under IFMSA - International Federation of Medical Students’ Association. Heading the committee for this year along with my partner, we’re responsible for taking care of exchange students from all over the world, as well as organizing a selection test for outgoing students. It suddenly dawned on me that I will be insanely busy this year.
8.24, the meeting is finally over. Before this my choir members had called numerous times asking me to be back for a performance at 8.30. I exerted all the force used to cycle this summer (I did not cycle at all back home) to paddle the bike back to school. I was still panting when we went on stage. Face red like a flamingo, I sang into the absolute darkness below the stage, formulating what to say to ‘invite’ newcomers to our chorus welcoming party this coming 30th of September.
Fueled by adrenalin that evening, I only manage to shut my eye at 2am, knowing our class trip starts at 7.30 the following morning and a class trip usually means no sleeping for the next 24 hours.
The bus hover among hilly areas and empty expressways as we chatted amicably on what we did during the summer as well as mundane gossips and stupid things by our junior. We had lunch in a very touristy restaurant and subsequently took the 1.30pm boat to Green Island. The island, located 33km off the northern coast of Taiwan, is primarily known for its prisons and places of exile for political prisoners. Many current politicians now fighting for Taiwan to be enlisted in the UN had been there, as prisoners. An island smaller than Hawaii, it’s dependent on fishing as well as tourism now. The boat ride typically takes 50 minutes - the most torturing 50 minutes of your life if you, like my very bold friend, stood up all the way and jumped around like monkeys that were rubbed with belacan (bagai monyet kena belacan?). Crossing the Pacific Ocean is exactly like riding in a roller coaster ride, plus occasional sprays of seawater and spotting of flying fishes and dolphins.
Our Green Island trip started with a simple snorkeling in one of the coasts. Being a two-time snorkeler in Redang I am completely shocked by how the tour guides stepped on corals, fed the fishes (very unnatural and unhealthy for the ecosystem) and treating everything as simple as ABC. The coral reefs are vanishing faster than the tigers or pandas. Simple acts such as touching the corals, which will harm the protective layers of the creature, may exterminate the entire colony of reefs along the coast. Feeding the fishes there might as well alter the natural water pH which will in long term suffocate the reefs as well.
Later in the evening we went for a very-expensive BBQ, ate mostly free radicals, carbon particles and chemically synthesized foodstuff. The gang went back for the hotel’s karaoke system after a brief nighttime introductory to the island by our cincai tour guide. Nobody slept until 2.30am.
The next morning was free-and-easy till 1.30pm when I realized I should have put on some sunblock before venturing outside this morning. Quickly applying some in 7-11 while waiting for the boat, I battled over the decision of whether to eat a light meal of Maggie (of course it’s not called Maggie here) before departing. However, the fact that the school messed up with my school fees and now my money is still hanging in a computer system between Taiwan and Malaysia bothers me that I finally decided not to. The boat ride back was more bumpy than the one we had the day before, but all of us managed to sleep through it.
Back in my dorm at 8.30, the sight of my roommate studying his n-th repetition of Biochemistry shocked me wide awake from my happy illusion that summer is still not over. I managed to go through half a chapter before surrendering to sleep at a little after 12 midnight.

A few minutes ago I was gobbling down probably my last bowl of Hokkien Mee this year in my own kitchen, cooked in less than 5 minutes thanks to a company called Ibumee. Yesterday the Sim family gathered (again) at Prontip Thai Restaurant for the cheap-but-not-so-nice Thai buffet, which the cook deliberately added lots of coconut milk into everything in order to make you eat less. On Saturday Mum, Dad, my sister and me went to Chili’s to celebrate my sister’s birthday, the monstrous servings meant 4 of us only spent RM150+ including taxes. Back to Friday me, Jieyang and Soon Khen went to the latter’s sister’s restaurant opposite Cititel for Japanese food, which is only so-so but made worthwhile with the 20% discount.
The food-filled weekend is very typical nearing departure each time, a fact worsened by my slimmed down figure after spending one year in Taiwan. "If you don’t fatten up now, when will you fatten up?"; "Heh, so nice eh? Enjoy the food and fatten up here, and go back and slim down." Lots of my female cousins and friends are peckering me for ’slimming down tips’, which I do not practise any. In fact, sometimes I have supper as late as 11pm at night (in Taiwan), or even second dinners. I eat regularly, and I did not bring a calorie calculator wherever I go. I studied, but the pressure isn’t enough to compress me to such figure. So I guess it must be hormones, and the genes embedded so long ago that destined Jun Yi to be another sequel to the story of the ugly duckling.
I did manage to fatten up, a little, upon coming back - that’s the bad part about coming home for the holidays. I was strolling with Mum and Dad at the lobby of G Hotel after our dinner at Chili’s. The lobby was festooned with tour groups and youngsters probably from iNTI or wherever. I walked across the full-length mirror, took a glance, and walk away again. Shocked to discover a stranger in the mirror, I took a backward glance to discover it’s myself, slightly ballooned up in the belly part. This is not what I saw myself to be when I did the same thing in my dorm mirror two months ago. A bittersweet memory flashed back into my mind - on July 21st 2007, after completing check-in at Taipei Int’l Airport (and arguing with the China Airlines staff about allowing me to go onboard because the aircraft is ’slightly overbooked’), I went through Customs and Immigration. The queue is longer than the Great Wall of China, as usual, and soon the lady officer signalled me to come forward. She took a quick look at my photo in the passport before flipping to the pages where my visas are stuck. Mid-way through it she took another glance at me, and flipped back to the photo page. "You get anyhow tormented or tortured in Taiwan?". Not knowing how to react, I did my usual "h’m" procedure.
I was 76% asleep last night when something rang suddenly inside my mind. I suddenly realized I have quite an amount of problems to tackle when I return - my SCOPE stuff, choir paperwork, and my scholarship application. The relaxing atmosphere of late had turned Jun Yi into a lackadaisical creature managing to do nothing for the entire afternoon. After assuring myself that things will eventually solve itself out, I manage to fall asleep listening the cat’s meow in the back alley. I don’t feel as homesick as I was during my first holiday back home. The feeling is less painful now, and I hope to be optimistic though I am sure things won’t still be a bed of roses.
My many thanks to Soon Khen and Jieyang for the great times, Seong Ling and Zi Yi, Ying Jing, Sheng Yu for the hug, Ling Wei, Ping Hui for the afternoon at McD, Zhi Ming for the one and only badminton meet, and so many others who really coloured the holidays for me. Tham Min taught me these 4 magic words - "Give. Take. Put down. Move forward." Perhaps it’s best for everybody to live in the moment than to grasp what we had.

Time literally flies. As summer comes to a close I slowly come to realize that the many things I am doing now might be the last I will be doing in Malaysia. People at my age are flying away to all corners of the globe pursuing their future, and soon my summer back home (if any) might just end up being a driver for the family and chaperon for aunties shopping for groceries. Though the timeless Penang will still embrace and captivate me every time I come back, the past Penang will not be the same Penang in 2 to 3 years’ time. The lack of old friends made all the difference.
This summer is the firsts of many things for me - my first foreign friend came, being host for the first time, driving so much for the first time, first time being an education counsellor, writing a short story for a competition for the first time etc. The whole experience was exciting and rewarding. I am glad I had a summer well-spent. Many years later, I know I’ll look back on today and probably mention this summer to my friend while we reminiscise knowing it’s difficult to find slots to visit Penang. On the other hand, this summer also marks several lasts for myself - probably the last time meeting Zi Yi in Malaysia, last time seeing the good people in Form 6, last time having Mum beside me to slash the prices from the cunning Indian shopkeeper, last time seeing my cousin who’s migrating to New Zeland on November, last time sharing a single plate of O-Chien with 11 people, last time spending 5 hours in McD with Soon Khen and Jieyang with just one cup of Coke (refillable). The adults will tell you it’s a process of growing up - leaving some things you think precious, and embracing more of the future (though it might not necessarily be nice). I remembered one text message Ms. Lon Eng sent me on my eve of graduation - ‘this is life, to leave the good old things so that you can reminiscise it later in life, and to welcome the new challenges so life becomes more meaningful with each passing day’.
Looking back, there are so many beautiful things to appreciate and enjoy in simple everyday life - Tham Min teasing Beng Hong and Zhi Ming during free periods, the McDonalds’ Big Breakfast which comes with a HUGE cup of tea and it’s refillable, ‘The Star’ everyday with it’s witty Kee’s comics and Starscope, the library of pirated DVDs at home, Mum’s car which easily gears up to Gear 4 (on a bumpy urban road), and the sun shining through the bedroom windows everyday at 9am exactly. While there’s no certainty saying I’d be robbed of all these in the future, the prospect of having to savour these little everyday enjoyments seems bleaker as I approach 19 years of age. I will have to find little everyday enjoyments in my secular home, and slowly switch my definition of ‘everyday’ to ‘holiday’ as I stand more rooted to Taiwanese soil - the unknown guy shooting behind the dorm every evening, the beautiful, towering mountains behind the school, the glassy seas of Hualien coast, and the excitement of being included in a little class outing.
Home will always be something a wondering traveller seek. At Popular today I was randomly browsing, but my eyes will unconsciously rest on titles related to being to a foreign land, i.e. ‘Home’ by an Indian writer whose name I couldn’t remember, ‘Sister Swing’ by Shirley Geok, and Amy Tan’s. Homesickness is something unawarely tattooed on our souls.
I have a Chinese New Year to look forward still, the Form 6 people are still here, Soon Khen will be here, Kee Wai too, and it would be another holiday to remember, I think. However, as Dad gave the initial approval for me to participate in a medical conference in Tokyo next summer, I wonder if I’d want to come back next summer - Soon Khen is flying, the Form 6 people will be in their respective universities - hardly anyone left I think.
Home is a nice place to be during the holidays, but the turmoil and heartache one has to go through during each end-of-holiday is something enriching yet agonizing. At least we get to gain something every homecoming - for me it’s to appreciate things around me and to try out new firsts while I still have the might, and friends to accompany me.

It’s too difficult to determine a title for this post. It is rojak all over. It is a blend of a lot of feelings, thoughts as well as a lament on how summer just flew past without me realizing (and the good times too). It is about basking under the sunny skies a few days ago shooting photographs like a sua-ku with my Taiwan friends and having to stay at home today because of the torrential non-stop downpour.
The past week has been like re-living my carefree childhood days for me. Weaving through the history of Penang and sampling every fabric of the golden days when the streets of Penang is roaming with Babas and Nyonyas, the Malays, Indians, Chinese and Caucasians. Flooding ourselves with the different Penang delicacies and spending more time looking for a parking space than visiting places is more than enough for us to contract Penangnitis - a disease majorly contracted by Penangnites from all over the world, of which the patients have a tendency to reminiscent tasty Penang food and dreaming about picturesque images of old Georgetown while lamenting no place matches better than Penang itself. I am drawn closer to Penang while my friends to Malaysia.
It was more than a pleasure playing host to one of the first friends I knew in university, and his sister too. I trust this friendship to be genuine and long-lasting, though experience tells me (and him) that our relationship had been like a roller-coaster ride all the time. Nevertheless, if we are to appreciate the differences between ourselves rather than to criticize it (as I’ve learnt from last semester), we’d learn to tolerate others better and gain more for ourselves.
Recapturing the past, my first year in university had both seen sunny and rainy days. The experience of being in a foreign land mingling with students of different backgrounds is totally refreshing and occasionally agonizing. There are nights when I just couldn’t sleep because of the many problems swirling in my head; there are also nights when I’m so busy I slept the next second after I hit the bunk, and I wouldn’t wake up even if World War 3 erupted right beside me. There are moody days, euphoric days, gloomy days, productive days and also unproductive days. The one major difference is that there is no Dad and Mum beside who provided silent comfort and guidance. Hence, as I’ve written in one of my posts previously, the feeling of boarding the aircraft heading home is always so priceless. The countdown to how many days before you can finally step into a jet and the next moment you wake up you’re home, the moment when the aircraft touched down at KLIA (or Penang Int’l Airport), the horrific yet friendly ‘thump! brrrr….’  is just too welcoming for us.
Nevertheless, I slowly get to know I was never alone. There are always people around us feeling the same things, just as what I’ve said to my junior "they look happy, but if you are to really talk to them, you’ll find them as insecure as yourself.’ Even after one year, I still have to occasionally fine-tune myself to suit the different personality climate in Taiwan - I will not draw conclusions. One year in Taiwan, I thank those who hurt me, as I get to learn from climbing up again; I thank those who provided guidance and support all the way, and I sincerely thank those who so willingly listens deep into the night and never try to interfere when I complained (sadly he’s hardly online nowadays).
It’s hard drawing a close for an untitled post. Think I’d just re-emphasis my key-points then.
1. I really enjoyed this week playing host to my Taiwanese friends, and I thank all my local friends for showing up whenever I asked for it.
2. I pray with all my heart for a smooth-sailing semester (and year) ahead. And God bless all the other foreign students in our school, too. Let us have genuine friends and a fit academic mind.
3. We are not as detached from home as we think we are.

This topic was gaining more and more attention as the general election draws near. One month ago you saw the politician H holding a Keris and shouting Malays would never perish from the face of the Earth, and today you see the same politician praising the Chinese for their intelligence and endurance in the business and service economic sector. The Malaysian political scene has became no more than a stage for our fellow politicians to showcase how they love their race and how anything that stands between him and ‘his people’ (so-called) should perish in one way or another.
Tunku Abdul Rahman’s idea of a multi-racial and multi-cultural identity for Malaysia is fading as we speak of his words and honour this old man. Remember the NTV7-made national song which ends with a quote by Tunku - "Let us all remember that Malaysians would live together as members of one big family". ‘Unity through diversity’ was Tunku’s thoughts when he flew Malaysia Airlines to Britain to fight for the future of Malaya. If you read The Star on Sunday you would know that on the evening of August 31st 1957 every guest at the Istana was served shark fin soup, rendang as well as a selection of Indian sweets. The government’s thoughts in dishing up a signature dish of every race was indeed touching. However, 50 years later, not only do the whole world shuts down during prayer time, they even tried to stop Gwen Stefani from entering Malaysia.
In a country like Malaysia, tolerance goes a long way. Selfishness will be, like it or not, the time bomb of doom for us. We have people speaking different languages even just beside us, and they have different thoughts about issues and concepts. Instead of trying to brainwash them (as if your thoughts are more superior), why can’t we respect that there will always be differences in the world and we should appreciate the beauty of variations in it. Imagine not having anyone to argue with about the best football player or the best airline. We are united because we are diversed - I prefer Ntv7 but you like 8TV more, fine, we ’share’ the television. We eat with hands but you eat with spoons and forks, it’s ok, we also provide them in our stall. Malaysians always keep things cool, that comes the so famous ‘cincai-lah’ culture in Malaysians. And let’s keep it.
Multiculturalism is our most valuable asset if we look at it welcomingly enough. Turn on the radio and you hear Cantonese, Chinese, Malay, Hindu, Tamil, English (or Manglish). Walk along any road in Malaysia and you have roti canai, tosei, nasi lemak, char koay teow, laksa, nasi kandar. Why can’t some people up there just stop criticizing and comparing the differences and just appreciate them? Malaysians don’t just look good in baju kurong or kebaya, they look good in every other attire as well, including the conventional jeans and tee-shirt. Why can’t we say ‘oh, cantiknya your saree!’ instead of ‘oi! tolong pakailah sopan sikit!’ Remember, Malaysia is not Afghanistan or Iran, we do not only send prayers to Rasullulah or Allah but also Jesus, Buddha, and many more. Hence, it is never wrong to be more dedicated to your religion and to pursue it with greater depth, but please remember, there are others around you who might not feel comfortable if you went overboard.
50 years was all it takes to have politicians starting a verbal war with one another, and 50 years was all it takes to separate a race from the kopitiam and re-settle them in medan selera-s (though the food in the kopitiam-s are not halal though). How long will we take before all of us have distinct borders on where to live and which channles to watch and what to eat? Not very soon if efforts are not put into reviving inter-cultural relationships.
Malaysia (or Malaya) is the first nation to gain self-rule without spilling blood. Let’s keep it so.