Friday, 20 July 2007
07.30pm
Koningsstraat, Amsterdam
These are my last days in Amsterdam and, like any other thing that must come to an end, small things seem precious. Pigeons, which usually fly so annoyingly close to me when I'm biking, are cuter; the canals, within which usually float curious objects, are lovelier; friendships, which I usually need to drag my ass out of the house to tend to, are harder to let go.
I began to question myself: is gratitude reserved to the novel and the temporary?
When I first arrived, everything was breathtaking. Western Europe, with its enchanting historical buildings, museums, concerts, was an endless array of adventure and learning opportunity. Grocery shopping, bike rides in the snow, cooking - everything - was special.
But then the novelty wore out. I adapted. I tried all the good places to eat, every activity became a routine. Weekends: movies and dinner. Weekdays: studying and coffee with friends. Every new country I go to are countless churches and historical platforms and buildings and museums. What used to be exotic European languages became a spin of basic Latin words (honestly).
The premise in my head re-structured itself from the classic Western-Eastern paradigm of Advanced-Developing to New-Exciting/Adjusted-Boring. I realised that anything, no matter how amazing, surreal, out-of-this-world, will become ordinary once we've adjusted ourselves to survival.
Then you arrive to the ending of all that is normal. Everything becomes: the last time of .... (fill in the blank). The last time biking in Amsterdam, the last time I'll ever see my friends, the last time I'll ever bla di bla di bla. It's true, but come on. Virtual reality develops new forms of relationship and physical migration is more than just a possibility (statistically speaking, a person who has lived in a foreign country has a higher chance of travelling than a person who has never left their home country).
So what then?
I think it's not just me.
I think most of us have a tendency to exaggerate the novel, take everyday-life for granted and romanticise goodbyes. Ironically, the only part of life where we can really make a difference and be grateful for what we have, is the part that we take everything for granted: what you do after you wake up, how you maintain your friendships, how you love your family, what you say when you're unbelievably angry (do you deliberately say words for spite or take a step back, calm self down, and think: 'Would I really want my last words to [fill in with the name of any loved one] to be so hurtful?').
Life is not about what or who we let go, but what and who remains. The things and people we usually take for granted are the aspects in life we can still maintain. It's so easy for me, and most people I know, to belittle the things that are actually most precious.
So I am going to hug my husband, who has been such a good and supportive friend of mine for an unmeasurable 8 years. A companion for 4 years and a spouse for 2. Who has held my hand through the most defining period of my life up until now (I am pretty sure, if I am given the time, there are still so much more to come). Who is literally 'my home away from home'.
Sometimes it isn't what you are letting go, but what you will have for, hopefully, a very long time.
Saturday, July 21, 2007
Thursday, June 21, 2007
Haves and Have-Nots
Thursday, 22 June 2007
11.15AM
Koningsstraat, Amsterdam
I called my mom yesterday and we got to talking about her job. Being a 'public servant', the higher your position is, the more people treat you like royalty. My mom, with her non-feodalistic, 'egalitarian' approach refuses to be treated this way. She emphasised on how she thinks we are all supposed to be the same; that the rich, the educated, the physically capables - are all so by chance. Some say it's God's will and some say it's nature's course. But nonetheless, it's a thought to ponder: if all the fortunes we have are due to opportunity, how do we deal with inequality?
From all the Friendster photos of your friends, which are taken in the office (small cublicles and uncomfortable-looking office clothes) - perhaps hundreds of them - how many of these people actually have the necessary capabilities needed by a multi-national and/or national company to excel as manager within 5 years? How many of those who excel as manager, have the networking skills to become director in 10-20 years? How many of them got their position in the first place because a member of their families pulled some strings?
I wish I had numbers, but all I can do is assume that the answer is: a few (honestly, the thought that most of them will be stuck in dead-end jobs for decades scare the crap out of me). The underlying logis is: not everyone can be excellent, not everyone falls into the category of the 'social haves' - because if everyone is special, then no one is special. If everyone is smart, then everyone is mediocre.
Though fortune is fortune, it's not a curse and at most times, it is well-earned. However I think it's important to embed in our minds that in order to get to the position we are in, there are so many other variables other than ourselves that are put into play - including the 'have-nots' of other people, that supported some of us to be 'haves'.
This is why I really support the concept of zakat, persepuluhan, tax, charity - what have yous; in its broadest sense. If some of us are so fortunate to be able to be distinguishable and be the few who are weeded out as 'leaders', then in our money, in our capablities and in our achievements - lies the rights of others. If it were not for them, 'we' would never be. As Albert Einstein so elloquently puts it, "Every day I remind myself that my inner and outer life are based on the labors of other men, living and dead, and that I must exert myself in order to give in the same measure as I have received and am still receiving."
11.15AM
Koningsstraat, Amsterdam
I called my mom yesterday and we got to talking about her job. Being a 'public servant', the higher your position is, the more people treat you like royalty. My mom, with her non-feodalistic, 'egalitarian' approach refuses to be treated this way. She emphasised on how she thinks we are all supposed to be the same; that the rich, the educated, the physically capables - are all so by chance. Some say it's God's will and some say it's nature's course. But nonetheless, it's a thought to ponder: if all the fortunes we have are due to opportunity, how do we deal with inequality?
From all the Friendster photos of your friends, which are taken in the office (small cublicles and uncomfortable-looking office clothes) - perhaps hundreds of them - how many of these people actually have the necessary capabilities needed by a multi-national and/or national company to excel as manager within 5 years? How many of those who excel as manager, have the networking skills to become director in 10-20 years? How many of them got their position in the first place because a member of their families pulled some strings?
I wish I had numbers, but all I can do is assume that the answer is: a few (honestly, the thought that most of them will be stuck in dead-end jobs for decades scare the crap out of me). The underlying logis is: not everyone can be excellent, not everyone falls into the category of the 'social haves' - because if everyone is special, then no one is special. If everyone is smart, then everyone is mediocre.
Though fortune is fortune, it's not a curse and at most times, it is well-earned. However I think it's important to embed in our minds that in order to get to the position we are in, there are so many other variables other than ourselves that are put into play - including the 'have-nots' of other people, that supported some of us to be 'haves'.
This is why I really support the concept of zakat, persepuluhan, tax, charity - what have yous; in its broadest sense. If some of us are so fortunate to be able to be distinguishable and be the few who are weeded out as 'leaders', then in our money, in our capablities and in our achievements - lies the rights of others. If it were not for them, 'we' would never be. As Albert Einstein so elloquently puts it, "Every day I remind myself that my inner and outer life are based on the labors of other men, living and dead, and that I must exert myself in order to give in the same measure as I have received and am still receiving."
Sunday, June 17, 2007
The Classic 'Us' and 'Others'
Saturday, 16 June 2007
01.06PM
Koningsstraat, Amsterdam
Traveling and relocation has been vastly studied culturally. One of the most interesting findings, I think, is the argument that the idea of being 'far away from home' can create a sense of fraternity. For instance, you commune with people from your country of origin and stick with them despite the fact that you would not hang out with these people if it weren't for you being in another country.
In other cases, there is the probability of an emmerging international community. You commune with people with the same values. You detach yourself from you national identity and decide to embrace the difference that comes with cultural incompatibilities.
None the wiser, none the better.
I just find it interesting how we attempt to deal with difference. Some people become very defensive with how they are and offend anything that disconfirms their perceiving of things (comparable to extremism) - basically for the fear of unknown threats. Some people are not offensive, but perceive anything different from their own as, well, 'weird' (comparable to judgemental). Regardless of how the 'challenged dealings with difference' surface, it manifests from the lack of willingness to understand.
At some points of my living in Amsterdam, I do find myself being on the offence. I feel threatened when a friend judges who or how I am, the choices I make or what I do. But at the end, I decide it is far more self-empowering to stop and think why they are like this, as opposed to protecting myself from something that shouldn't matter.
House to Cameron, "Why should you care what I think? What's important is what you think."
By understanding why certain things are as they are, we equip ourselves with the necessary tools to understand others. We are actually gathering data that is needed to approach 'subjects' and 'employ the signs that they understand'. For example (please ignore the over-generalisation), when talking to a Dutch person you talk about weather and winter trips to sunny Indonesia, when talking to a North American you talk about Hollywood culture.
There are limits though. Sometimes no matter how much you learn about someone's cultural background, your message can never come through. The conceptual maps that are planted in their heads are so different from ours that nothing we can formulate is acceptable/computable to them. It is almost as if we are speaking in different languages. At these times, we can only withdraw and retreat. Energy spent would be energy wasted (bak buang garem ke laut).
Sometimes I just think of how amazing it is the journey of finding yourself through your interaction with others, without even being 'carried by the flow'. We are ourselves. We have our chosen identities before our 'interaction with difference'. I guess sometimes difference helps confirm who we are. Without putting ourselves in other people's shoes, how do you know we are wearing the right size?
01.06PM
Koningsstraat, Amsterdam
Traveling and relocation has been vastly studied culturally. One of the most interesting findings, I think, is the argument that the idea of being 'far away from home' can create a sense of fraternity. For instance, you commune with people from your country of origin and stick with them despite the fact that you would not hang out with these people if it weren't for you being in another country.
In other cases, there is the probability of an emmerging international community. You commune with people with the same values. You detach yourself from you national identity and decide to embrace the difference that comes with cultural incompatibilities.
None the wiser, none the better.
I just find it interesting how we attempt to deal with difference. Some people become very defensive with how they are and offend anything that disconfirms their perceiving of things (comparable to extremism) - basically for the fear of unknown threats. Some people are not offensive, but perceive anything different from their own as, well, 'weird' (comparable to judgemental). Regardless of how the 'challenged dealings with difference' surface, it manifests from the lack of willingness to understand.
At some points of my living in Amsterdam, I do find myself being on the offence. I feel threatened when a friend judges who or how I am, the choices I make or what I do. But at the end, I decide it is far more self-empowering to stop and think why they are like this, as opposed to protecting myself from something that shouldn't matter.
House to Cameron, "Why should you care what I think? What's important is what you think."
By understanding why certain things are as they are, we equip ourselves with the necessary tools to understand others. We are actually gathering data that is needed to approach 'subjects' and 'employ the signs that they understand'. For example (please ignore the over-generalisation), when talking to a Dutch person you talk about weather and winter trips to sunny Indonesia, when talking to a North American you talk about Hollywood culture.
There are limits though. Sometimes no matter how much you learn about someone's cultural background, your message can never come through. The conceptual maps that are planted in their heads are so different from ours that nothing we can formulate is acceptable/computable to them. It is almost as if we are speaking in different languages. At these times, we can only withdraw and retreat. Energy spent would be energy wasted (bak buang garem ke laut).
Sometimes I just think of how amazing it is the journey of finding yourself through your interaction with others, without even being 'carried by the flow'. We are ourselves. We have our chosen identities before our 'interaction with difference'. I guess sometimes difference helps confirm who we are. Without putting ourselves in other people's shoes, how do you know we are wearing the right size?
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