I'm having a blast in Pomona, both in and out of the classroom, and everything seems to be going pretty smooth so far. People are friendly, the 7 dining halls are making me fat, the dorms are indeed "like palaces", and the lessons are stimulating. However, one thing that struck me about the American learning environment is how interactive it is. This might be a LAC thing, I'm not sure, but the small class size of (average 15 people in a class) definitely encourage, if not force, everyone to speak up.

Now before I continue, I know many of you would think i'm speaking as if I'm on the high pedestal of "overseas education", eager to teach and critic what's wrong with "Singapore education". I would just like to say I'm stating my own experience, and it really is up to your interpretation of which education system is better. I'm just saying why I (which a focus on the I, and I can't capitalise it, so here's a bracket to enforce the point) appreciate this system I have over here.

Neither am I writing an Open Letter to the Education Minister. I despise people who write Open Letters, because I don't see a difference in effect between an Open Letter and Closed Letter, except for an Open Letter you can flaunt your writing and argumentative skills to people on Facebook and receive positive comments (much like little pats on the back). If you want to make a point to a minister, just write to him, not to the 897693874692 other people on Facebook. If you want people to read and comment on what you write, just blog. Like me.

Anyway, I recently read an article that appeared on my Facebook news feed, which seemed really scary, yet stirred up pretty familar feelings I had back in JC. At the risk of sounding REALLY elitist, somehow there was more classroom interactions back in High School, perhaps because it was iSpark and there were lots of people who wanted to speak up.

However, in JC, the whole discussion atmosphere in class seemed really stifled. I have lost track of the number of times during GP (or Geog or CSE, but not maths lol) when I had lots of questions to ask, points to make, but I just didn't, because no one in the class was doing so. I know Ms Poh actively solicited comments, but when you find yourself repeatedly giving responses, it's hard not to imagine the rest of the class looking at you with vehement eyes. You don't want to waste "precious lesson time", and you know everyone in class really just wants the discussion to move along so they can get it over and done with. So after a while, I sort of went with the flow: just shut up and speak up during random moments to make it seem I'm participating, but not to the point of "over-participating".

Then I came to the US, and it's a real culture shock how people just speak up so much in class and discussions. For the first few Orientation weeks, we had discussions on topics as mundane as sexual harrassment and IDENTITIES (zomg), but these discussions just flowed without the need for any added facilitation. In Singapore, there would probably be a need for "leading questions" to be asked and names to be called.

Jiawei pointed out to me how SMU students ask lots of stupid questions because they could earn Class Participation Points. We have no such explicit system in place here, so the fact that people still talk so much in class is a testimony to something else: how they genuinely just want to bring up their personal opinions for the rest of the class. People often say American students waste time asking stupid questions, but I also believe Singaporean students are too scared to ask the stupid questions. So far, I haven't really encountered any jerk hogging up lesson time asking stupid questions, and the professors also seem to have an ingenious way of making any question sound like a meaningful one which can provide a "new aspect" to discussion and analysis.

This goes on to another point about how professors here are so encouraging of dialogue. For the first few classes here, the professors' repeated exclamations of "GOOD QUESTION!" and "EXCELLENT QUESTION" got on my nerve because it seemed almost perfunctory, patronizing even. But I soon realized this was their way of encouraging dialogue, and it was such constant placing of value on your comments that make students feel that it's worth it to overcome their initial fear and awkwardness to speak up.

I just came back from a talk at Scripps College about a woman who made a documentary on Mexican Folkloric Dance. In any circumstances in Singapore, I would not have bothered to ask a question, much less on something so foreign to me I had no encounters of it previous to today. I often zone out during Question & Answer sessions during Dialogue Sessions in Singapore, especially when it's held with ministers or people with high power. It's my belief that 70% of these questions were asked for the sake of being asked, and I question whether the person asking really wanted to know the answer, or whether they really understood what was replied. If so, why do they often nod and say "yes you answered my question" when the person obviously hadn't?

I was in Council once, and what irked me was how our school (and other schools) would force their students to prepare questions before heading to a dialogue session, one for the purpose of "vetting the question", and the other to make sure the school "gets represented" during the dialogue, as if asking question was a competition and your school needed to ask a good question to show its dominance and superiority. More irritatingly was how the dialogue would inevitably start with the person chairing it to go "ok to start the ball rolling (YES IT MUST ALWAYS BE THE BALL ROLLING), I have a few questions to ask myself". No shit you don't. You hadn't had these questions before you were asked to chair this discussion!

At a recent government event I was in, the organizers had the audience send in their questions a few days beforehand to make sure the questions were "appropriate" for the panel they had to engage in discussion with, as if the panel had things to hide and some issues were taboo and not to be asked. Apparently this was a "culture of the organization". More ridiculously, they planted people to ask questions (including the order to do so), which resulted in the discussion coming to a premature ending when the head of the discussion panel (a Permanent Secretary) realized this whole session was pretty much a farce and decided to cancel it. Awkward.

So back to the Mexican Folkloric Dance lecture. No prompting was needed by the person chairing the discussion, simply because there WASN'T anyone chairing it. The questions just flowed, and I too asked a question which I genuinely wanted to know the answer to. The point is, how many times in your life would you be able to engage personally with a person with such steep knowledge and passion in Mexican Folkloric Dance (yes, pretty niche I know). What touched me was how at the end of the lecture, the speaker came up to me to personally thank me for asking the question. As I walked out of the Recital Hall, my World Music lecturer appeared from the back of the theatre to commend me on an "excellent question asked", before engaging me in a mini-discussion as I walked out to my bike. It's such an ATMOSPHERE of dialogue that makes learning here so stimulative and immersive.

These few days when people ask me how's school, I just answer them I learnt a lot. Which is true, because learning here is really about knowledge, rather than coping with tests and exams, which seems to be the main gist in the Singapore education system. Till now, I have no idea how I should deal with the final exam, I have no idea what format it will be, or what content will be tested. It seems the professors are just revelling us with interesting knowledge and ideas everyday, and somehow we'll find all these useful when it comes to dealing with the final papers.

Anyway I have 3 research papers to write this term as finals, so i'll probably be pretty stressed out as the semester progresses.

So if you ask me whether I regret coming to Pomona, as opposed to a bigger college or a UK college, I would say no, because I have grown to appreciate the importance of dialogue and questioning in learning. I perhaps should be prepared for such openness to be curtailed once again when I head back to work in Singapore, but regardless, I believe such forms of learning will make me a more confident and assured person. Right now I still get nervous when I speak, and sometimes the points just jumble up as I go along. But I guess this is all a process of learning, and I'm still slowly trying to get the hang of organizing and articulating my thoughts well.

In all fairness, I really do appreciate Hwa Chong in preparing me for college life (or the future), what with all the research paper writings and credit point assignments (I am now pretty adequate when it comes to writing a reflection). I guess in a sense Hwa Chong is really trying to break out of the traditional mold of education in Singapore, and I do believe it will get there, but not so soon. The whole education environment is still not ready for it, the students themselves don't embrace it, and when it comes to the crux, an exam-oriented education system is still more practical in Singapore than one that encourages opinions but no exam skills.

Once again, I would just give a holler out to all the JC2 juniors applying to universities now to give LACs a serious thought. I do feel it's a modern tragedy that such hidden gems of a school are being constantly overlooked by prospective students in Singapore, and I am pretty willing to take it upon myself to spread the benefits of such schools to my juniors. Ma Xiaoye (when he came back to visit Pomona and then decided to eat at Scripps because they have the best food) was telling me how no one came to the Pomona College booth when Hwa Chong was holding its university talks, and I really hope this will change in the future. Now that we've got a substantial number of graduates going to LACs, perhaps we can hold a session exclusively for LACs, so that we don't have to compete with the Ivys and get relegated to a short afterthought.

So here's a blog post which I wrote halfway through my huge stack of readings and Japanese homework, but I guess I feel there is a need for this post to be here. You can say it's me trying to make my point heard (again), or perhaps this can serve as an ironic reminder if I happen to grow to hate Pomona in the future, but mostly it's just for myself to organize the thoughts in my head in a coherent manner. That's essentially the main reason why I blog.

In conclusion, I just want to say I am thankful for the Singaporean education system: it has trained me well, to be a mugger, to have excellent work ethics, to pride work excellence over all else. But I just think it can be better, and I sincerely hope it can be improved. The US education system is awfully flawed too, and there is really no perfect education system in the world. Nevertheless, I just hope Singapore can breed a generation of people less afraid to make their voices heard, less embarrassed of screwing up in front of their classmates, and more willing to make a change in the people around them.

To end off on a triumphant note:
I purchased a Kala travel concert ukelele with a flat spruce top, resulting in a most reverberating sound an instrument of such portability can ever make. Kudos to the helpful store owner at the Claremont Folk Music Centre who educated me on the finer points of ukelele selection, though it is with much regret that I didn't eventually buy any ukelele for him (for I'm a poor college student, and Amazon just sells it cheaper).

Of Packing

In about 72 hours, I would be taking a plane to Los Angeles, with no idea of what's going to happen to me, just a vague notion that I would be schooling in a foreign country. There, I will spend the next 4 years of my life, which to put into context, was the time since the start of JC till now.

And I haven't bloody packed.

To some, packing is an ardous process, almost like drafting an essay, consisting of long processes of putting in and taking out things, as if something amiss or auxiliary would jeopardise the trip. I guess most parents would feel this way, because to them, travelling is still a very important affair, and being in a faraway land devoid of a basic essential might lead to discomfort, agony and certain deaths.

However, if there was one thing backpacking had taught me, it was that there isn't really much to pack. Before I embarked, I had thought how I was going to survive 3 months away from home with only my backpack as my sole source of everything. But on the road you realize something: that stripped down to the bare essential, one only needed very little to live. To me, it was just clothes and a laptop. In fact, there was something very liberating that I could live my life off a backpack, that everything there was to me could fit into a backpack, and that I could bring it around the world. It was as if this was the very essence of myself, and I had less to care about, less to worry about, less to consider about.

I am a very sentimental person, I admit, and I still keep all the letters and presents my friends gave to me since primary school, including the autograph book listing everyone's Likes and Dislikes, and the very insensitive Friend ranking. But when it comes to the crux, what matters more in a friendship: such physical "proofs" of friendship, or the mental assurance that the unspoken ties are present. I would not want these things to disappear, not the SLC posters, the christmas cards, the graduation letters, but if they were to, I would be minimally upset, because my friends would still be my friends, and those that don't want to be my friends anymore would still exit my life surely and gradually.

So the point I want to say is that the most pivotal part of a person is still the person itself. Bereft of all material belongings, we can still survive, because the important things are there in our mind. Backpacking sorts of puts all these into perspective, cleanse you off all the things that you thought you needed, but were really what you only wanted. I can buy things I need at my destination, and for things I can't purchase, I probably can't pack them either.

Sometimes we think we need a lot of things in our lives, but really, all I need is to know my friends and family love me, a working brain, a walking body. The rest are, to put it simply, quite replaceable.


And Of Leaving

It's been a long time since I had this feeling, a sense of fear, trepidation and excitement mixed into one discomforting brew. People tell me that I would be okay, since I could survive backpacking for so long, and that I would probably adapt in no time. But backpacking was all fun, this is schooling. I would have to deal with deadlines, with crappy grades, with down days, and when such things happen, I would have no support network to rant at, to whine at or just to find some comfort in.

Yes I had wanted to find a place with little Singaporeans, but now faced with the prospect of having absolutely no one I know in the near proximity, one can't help but feel a sense of paranoia. I'll probably make new friends, hopefully, but the truth is it'll take time to understand a person, and you really doubt whether people will even comprehend sometimes.

By choosing to go to the West Coast, I have chosen to take a different paths from many of my friends, be it those going to the East Coast, to London or staying in Singapore. I guess this is the point where our roads diverge, and we go on to lead our own lives in our own corners of the world. And it's scary, because while other lines are thick with people, mine's a single thread. Friends will proceed on to make new memories together, while I will be detached from them. Time does cruel things to people, and sometimes just not interacting with a person for a few years can make it as if you've never met the person before.

And that's why I have been actively asking people out since I came back from my backpacking. From council, clique, class, Huangcheng, army, I think I did my best to make this last connection before I leave. When I come back in 4 years time, people would be working, we would be adults, and so these meet ups and outings might be the last before we make this transition to adulthood. And that's why I treasure them so much.

I went to Malaysia with my best friends, headed to Weishi's house with my high school clique to have one more taste of his mum's cooking and just laze in his room where we had spent countless of hours of our lives in, ate with my primary school best friends, met up with individual friends whom I treasure, had K and meals with my army friends: I can truly say this was the happiest period of my life.

I don't regret going to Pomona, or California for that matter, for I chose this choice myself. But I'm sure I'll still feel a sourness in my heart when I see my friends uploading photos onto Facebook of their gatherings, or having to click Not Attending on events I can't possibly attend. There will be skype and MSN, but sometimes, it really just amplifies how large the distance is.

In 4 days time, I'll start from zero again, in another country with a vastly different culture. I'll have to make new friends again, live in a new dorm, survive in a new country, navigate the complexities of a new school. To say I'm absolutely not afraid would quite obviously be a big lie. Truth is, I'm really quite scared. But my biggest hope for myself is still that I can stay true to who I am, and not have to change just so I can fit in, simply because I hate people who are like that. I don't want to come back to Singapore a completely disparate person, just like how I don't want to see my friends changed to much when I see them again.

I have been trying not to think of departure so much these few days, because I know if I do, i'll start getting pretty emotional, so I've been pushing everything away, occupying my mind with meet ups and outings. But I still think I'll probably cry like a loser boy at the airport. 

So to all my friends who have been with there with me through my life, I just want to say a temporary farewell, and just hope the friendship we have built will transcend space and time. I will be seeing less of everyone, but hopefully, things will remain the same when we meet again, sometime in the near future.

And if any of you are heading to South California, just remember to drop me a note, and maybe I can train out to LA to see you, or you can come over to Claremont to see my pretty school.

Till we meet again, please stay safe, stay healthy, and be happy.

It's a long time since I wrote here, and I shall write here again today, because writing is carthatic for me, and it serves as an avenue for me to organize all the thoughts that run through my mind the whole day. When I feel emotionally jumbled, I like to write,  because even if it serves no practical purposes, it can become a welcome distraction. Of course, "writing" here means putting thoughts down into words, not literally writing on pieces of paper because that I hate, after particularly traumatic episodes of my life scribbling endlessly and rapidly during Geog, Econs, GP and CSE Papers, of which love to falls on the same day too.

I remembered talking with Jianyi at Xiahe about Ambitions. It was on the picturesque Ganjia grassland, after we climbed over a hill, and we had to walk back round the hill to meet our driver, because no way were we going to climb back the same way we walked. We were talking about how the College section used to have this practice of gathering all those they deemed to have "potential" into a conference room to have a dialogue with Mr Ang, and I (fortunately or not) found myself in one of those sessions. I really had no clear idea why I was there, faced with a room full of Councillors and HP and SMTP students, but I guess there was some part of me they found worthy of being in that room.

The clearest memory from that meeting was Mr Seow asking the room who was applying for a PSC scholarship, and I recalled all the hands shooting up, save 2 person - me and Yuan Chang. Yuan Chang was Malaysian, so he couldn't apply (I think), and all I remember feeling at that time was just a tad of awkwardness, as if I just answered a wrong answer to a question everyone knew the correct answer of. But as the years past, and I look back at that memory, this feeling evolved into one of sadness and fear, because it just shows what society has made of our generation of people.

What are ambitions? Ambitions are dreams, things you want to do when you grow up. Let's face it, no child will say their ambition is to get a scholarship to be a civil servant. When I went to Cambodia for OCIP, what struck me the most was how these Cambodian youths had so much dreams for their future: some wanted to be nurses, some wanted to be policemen, some wanted to be teachers, some wanted to be secretaries (er I guess some people like taking minutes). These were real ambitions - getting a scholarship to be a civil servant isn't.

But here in a conference room filled with the brightest of minds, 48 people have decided they all have the same ambition. Our society, our school, our parents have ingrained into our minds that getting a PSC scholarship is the ideal goal our generation should work towards, that after clinching the scholarship can we proclaim we have made it, that our education has been "successful". I don't know about you, but I find it scary. It's almost like our generation of people have forsaken our dreams, and that we have blindly allowed ourselves to be led by our noses to a happiness defined by others. I hate to use the phrase "programmed to think", because it makes us seem like robots, but the differences aren't that stark either.

When I was young, my first ambition was to be a zookeeper, because I loved animals, and I thought being a zookeeper would allow me to feed the animals the whole day. Reality soon struck, and I realized animals will die if fed continuously throughout the day, and that I have to clear up whatever came out from the other side of their body after I fed them. So while my passion for wildlife remained, my ambition to be a zookeeper weakened.

Late primary school, after getting caught up with games like SimCity and Zeus, I decided my ambition was to be a planner. This was the closest I ever came to my future employment, though scarily the motivation behind this was because I like to play god, control things and put them in order. I still have a sketch in my cupboard I drew of my Sua Yu's Ideal Australian Zoo, where I planned the different enclosures for all the Australian animals I could find in my Guide To Australian Wildlife, carefully putting the nocturnal animals in an indoor exhibit, and organizing my zoo layout by habitat. Very meticulous, I must say, because I even drew the enclosures using rulers, with certain enclosures purposely wavy to break the monotony.

So those were my ambitions. Then coming to secondary school, like many of my fellow peers, I became disoriented. At this stage in our life, we begin to realize our childhood ambitions aren't that realistic after all, and we find ourselves bombarded from all sides with more practical routes to take (I won't call them ambitions). Which scholarship are you aiming for? Which course? Which uni? It didn't matter what you were interested in, for it was the value that society placed on it that was the biggest factor to consider. So somewhere around this time, our dreams died, we became lost. We grew up.

I do not know whether it's the success or the failings of our education system to produce a generation of people who all hanker for the same things, who are all "mature" enough to value pragmatism over personal interest. But I will shudder if one day my child looks up to me and tell me his/her ambition is to be a civil servant, because it means my child has lost her/her ability to dream. And with no dreams, what else is there to live for?

They often question why Singapore, with a top-notch education system, fail to produce entrepreneurs and creative talents. They blame it on the rote learning of our curriculum, on how we are not allowed to speak up in class. I think it's bullshit. Compared to places like China and South Korea, students are given the leeway to speak up a lot more in classes, and I have sat through some of the most inspiring lessons in school. But look who's producing the entrepreneurs and billionaires?

It's precisely because the government has convinced the elites that the civil service is the best route for them, and when the top minds are all "making Singapore a better place for the people to live in", who will be there to start a company, to get a new invention going, to make the WORLD a better place for people to live in?

Deprivation breeds hunger, and hunger leads to competitiveness. Deprive a smart person of opportunities, and he will chart his own path and create his own destiny. Give a smart person a comfortable trail to walk, and he'll settle with following the trail of jelly beans. Look at how many successful entrepreneurs failed in school. This very failure was the spark of their future success, because they were now free to do whatever they want, rather than be brainwashed and pointed down a particular road.

Granted I took up a scholarship in the end, to URA, but that was because I was interested in the job, and I knew that if I were to apply for a job after I graduated, I would still have applied to URA too. Thus, I specifically wanted a URA scholarship, not a general one like PSC. Yes the prestige was higher, but I have no idea which part of the civil service I would be working in, and I didn't want that. Of course, you can say this is a case of sour grapes, that I didn't apply because I know I probably wouldn't get it. But if I only did things I had confidence in, I wouldn't have even applied for a single scholarship.

That's why I always admire people who fight for their dreams, who are not deterred by what people around them say or the conditions that go against them. Like Sze Ying. She wants to be a vet. There are many people who probably thought of wanting to be a vet at some point or another while growing up, but how many of them are still holding on to that dream? She's the only one I know who will confidently say she wants to be a vet. So even though she's stuck in NUS Science trying to quickly graduate so she can hopefully get a place to study postgraduate in veterinarian science, she's still fighting tooth and nail for her dream, and I respect her for that, because many would have given up if they were in her shoes. 没天时、没地利、没人和,但仍坚持不罢休 - 这才是勇气，这才是执着。这才是叫为梦想而奋斗。

Right now, what's my ambition? Where do I see myself in 10 years time? If I dare myself to dream, all the possibilities will start gushing out: I want to rear horses on a grassland in Qinghai, I want to be a travel writer paid to explore all corners of the world, I want to open an eco-lodge on an island in the Pacific. But right now, all I want to say is that I dream that I'll be happy, that I have not lost sight of who I am, and that the me at age 30 can look at the me at age 20 in the eye and say "I have not let you down".

Happiness varies from person to person. Perhaps some people gain happiness from not letting their parents down, and they take immense joy in walking the road planned for them, and I think this people are extremely selfless and considerate. But I'm not like that. I'm self-centred, I make decisions only because I want them, and I do not put the interest of the society above self. That's why happiness for me is to do what I want to do, and that's why it's so hard for me to be happy, because going against the flow is always harder than going with it.

Sometimes I think we are all imprisoned in cages, with the doors locked, not from outside, but from the inside. The keys are there in the keyhole, waiting for us to turn, yet we are not willing to turn it to open the door. We fear what's outside the cage, we prefer the familiarity and comfort of the cage, so we decide to stay inside. We've been kept in these cages from birth, cages constructed by society, by our parents. But it is us who ultimately chose to remain inside.

As I take up a scholarship and enter college, I'm once again voluntarily walking into another cage. I'm not trying to break out of this cage, nor am I plotting of an escape the moment I can. All I hope is that when the time comes, when my bond is served, that while I may or may not choose to stay, I am still aware of that key in the keylock there for me, and that I still have the courage to turn that key and exit from the cage if I so desire. That I will not fear the darkness outside the cage, but rather embrace it as a chance for me to light it up.

Crowd Lu (卢广仲） has a song called Nice To Meet You in his 四果冰 album. I initially wasn't really impressed by the melody of the song, but what left a deep mark on me were three lines of the song (which are still my favourite three lines, and which made me start liking the song).

你说人生要疯狂几遍
我都懂  
只是习惯比较早点睡

So ask yourself what were your ambitions when you were young, and why have you stopped chasing it? Have you truly tried, and if so, have you given up a bit too easily, or you still fighting for it with whatever you've got? Have you ever let yourself go and be crazy, or did you decide it's safer to stick with what's comfortable and what's "normal"?

I am not trying to make a difference to the education system, or I would have written an Open Letter to the respective minister and post it on my Facebook wall, which people of my generation seem quite prone to do nowadays. Apart from the fact that I immediately close the window when I see such notes, I also think it's incredibly pretentious why the person has to write an OPEN letter and not a CLOSED one, and also that the secretary of the minister would probably scan through it, then reply with a "thanks for your suggestion. noted with thanks." to the writer. So what's the point really. 

As I said, I write because I think it helps in my mental constipation.

So in the end, I have no idea whether the other 48 people in the room that day eventually got their PSC scholarship or not, or whether their ambitions have changed since that day. But what I do know is that I do not regret not putting my hands up, because even if 9999 other people raised their hands, it will still not change what I want out of my life.

So what if I gave the wrong answer. It's MY answer to this open-ended question called Life.

Follow my travel journey at

http://asiadysplasia.ontheroad.to/asiadysplasia/

Ok I wanted to type this fully in Chinese, but I realized that most people don't have time to read Chinese. I then decided I should post in Chinese and English, before realizing when given a choice, most people would read the English and ignore the Chinese. But it's your loss, because I think Chinese aptly expresses more of what I think than English does.


今天在看蔡健雅的演唱会是，我被感动到了，而我也哭了。可能是心中一直被压抑的种种心情终于被释放，也许是对往事的怀念，而又是对接下来几个月、几年的恐惧。蔡健雅的歌声陪伴了我这么多年，百听不厌，每次听，心里难免还是会酸一下。

While watching Tanya Chua's concert today, I definitely was touched, and I admit I teared a little. Maybe it's because of all the emotions bottled up inside for so long, maybe it's a yearning for things bygone, or maybe it's just the uncertainty of the next few months, the next few years. Tanya's voice has accompanied me for so long, yet I never tire of it. In fact, many songs still give me a tinge of sadness when I listen to it after all these years.

在塞林格的《麦田里的守望者》中，令我印象最深刻的一句话是当他说有时候一本书会让你很想跟作者对话，就像朋友般聊天。我想蔡健雅的歌对我也有这种效果。我想问蔡健雅他怎么能把歌写进人的心里去，怎么把城市人心中想表达的心情都表现在歌曲里，怎么能一句话、一个比喻，就把这么多感情写得一清二楚。

One of the thing I remember most vividly in J.D. Salinger's Catcher In The Rye is the concept of how a book sometimes makes you want to talk to the author as if the author's your friend. I guess this applies to how I feel about Tanya's songs. I want to ask Tanya how does she write songs that strike deep into the crux of people's hearts, how she expresses the thoughts so many city-dwellers struggle to verbalise, and how with a phrase, a metaphor, she can flesh out a whole range of emotions.

我总觉蔡健雅的歌有一种独特的魅力，一种能带出都市人的孤单、的落魄、的向往依靠、的自我。歌坛另一个才女徐佳莹曾说过，蔡健雅是她心目中的女神，因为她的歌就像把刀插入你的心里，让你想逃也逃不过。但等到血流完后，她的歌声又像个创可贴，抚平你心中的伤痕。难怪有些人听《陌生人》开头的旋律时，眼泪都回不禁流出来。

I always thought there was a special quality to Tanya's songs. A quality that seems to be able to bring out the city-dweller's loneliness, abjections, yearnings and independence. Another singer-songwriter Lala Hsu once said that Tanya was her goddess, because her songs were like knives that pierce deep into your heart, leaving you helpless and vulnerable. But once the blood has spilled, her voice then acts like a band-aid, healing the wounds and calming the soul. It is thus no surprise that some people can cry just listening to the opening music of 《陌生人》.

我也不知道为什么这么深爱蔡健雅的歌，往往都是第一次听就深深的着迷。我记得听张韶涵的《Ang 5.0》专辑时，印象最深刻的歌就是《谁爱谁》，而查看后，果然是蔡健雅作的曲。在文莱军训时，听着陈奕迅的《上五楼的快活》专辑时，是一首《多少》在我脑海里陪伴我度过漫长的日子。这首《多少》也正是蔡健雅写给陈奕迅的。听着他们各自的版本，各有自己的风味。陈奕迅的充满无奈，而蔡健雅的却是带着一点盼望。但重点是，两个版本都很好听。可能是她的写歌风格吧，还是她那独特的嗓音，但只要是蔡健雅写的歌，我几乎都喜欢。我每次听iPod时喜欢放shuffle模式，不喜欢的歌就换掉，但每到蔡健雅的歌似乎都一定会停下来，把整首歌听完。

I frankly have no idea why I love Tanya's songs so much, or why one listen is often all I need to fall in love with her songs. I remember listening to Angela Zhang's 《Ang 5.0》album, and the song that left the deepest impression was 《谁爱谁》. Upon further checking, it was indeed Tanya that wrote the melody. In Brunei for army training and listening to Eason Chan's 《上五楼的快活》album, it was the song《多少》that made me endure through those long outfield days. And unsurprisingly, this song was written by Tanya for Eason. I have heard both their versions, and I must say they both have their distinctive flavour. Eason's seems to be more frustrated, almost bordering on helpless, while Tanya's seems carry a greater sense of hope and longing. But the point is, both are excellent renditions. Maybe it's her writing style or her unique soulful voice, but I tend to be fond of whatever songs she write. I always listen to my iPod on shuffle mode, endlessly clicking next until I hit a song I like. However, when a Tanya's song pops out, I'm almost sure to stay and listen to the end.

蔡健雅的歌陪伴了我生活的起起落落，仿佛就像是我生活中的里程碑。第一次喜欢上她，是听到她第一张英文专辑《bored》里的《bored》这首歌。然而，她那时对我来说也就是另一个女歌手，也没对她印象深刻。过后她推出了《tanya》,《纪念》，《相信》，我都很喜欢，但没让我真正心动。是当她推出《默契》新歌加精选专辑时，我才慢慢觉得这个人写的歌真的很不错。而让我爱上她的专辑，其实就是《陌生人》。

Tanya's songs walked the ups and downs of life with me, and many of her songs were like milestones marking important or memorable points in my life. The first song I liked from her was the song 《bored》 from her first English album 《bored》. However, she was just another female singer to me then, and she did not leave a deep impression on me. Subsequently, she released 《tanya》,《纪念》，《相信》, albums which I liked, but not particularly loved. However, it was her 《默契》album that made me take note of what a wonderful songwriter she was. And by the time she released 《陌生人》, I had fallen head over heels for her songs.

我还记得推出《陌生人》时，我刚进中学。当时的忐忑与不安，都在她的歌声中找到慰藉。过后的《双栖动物》陪伴了我举办SLC时的彷徨失措，《t-time tanya新歌＋精选》是我中四被学生理事会加上课业的琐事所烦时的避风港。进入高中，加入黄城，多少的难过、焦虑与压力都是在`《goodbye＆hello》专辑的歌中度过。当兵到台湾兵训，是因《若你碰到他》专辑中的歌一直在我脑海里重播，才让我将这张专辑永远与在台湾兵训时的那段时期牵扯在一起。

I remembered 《陌生人》 was released when I first entered Chinese High, and the songs in the album were conduits to channel my nervousness and insecurity. 《双栖动物》was my solace during the crazy times of organizing SLC, while 《t-time tanya新歌＋精选》acted as a safe harbour as I stressed over things in council and my studies. Entering JC and Huangcheng, `her《goodbye＆hello》 album guided me through the sadness, anxiety and stress that bore down on me from all sides. During the recce course overseas phase in Taiwan, it was the 《若你碰到他》album that played non-stop in my brain as I told myself to endure and pass the course. As a result, I had always associated the songs from the album with the times I spent in Taiwan training and RnR-ing.

还记得高中时，每当深夜因学业而郁闷、因黄城而忧愁，我都回播放《hello and goodbye》这张专辑(而且歌的次序是不能换的）。从让人心碎的《达尔文》，《当你离开的时候》和《空白格》，我找到了发泄心情的出口。当专辑到《越来越不懂》，《如果你爱我》，《化学实验》时，我心中的哀愁也会渐渐消失。而到《it's true》和《晨间新闻》时，我已找到了一丝希望。最后的一首《走过的路》，告诉我自己要坚强、要忍住。不愧是金曲奖专辑。久而久之，蔡健雅的歌变成了一个人独自在黑夜听的歌。一个人躺在床上，把蔡健雅的歌放在扬声器播，一首接一首，直到入眠。

I remembered in JC, whenever I was depressed over my studies or CCA (which was A LOT of times), I would put 《hello and goodbye》on the CD player (and insisted the songs be played in sequence). From the sadness brought out in 《达尔文》，《当你离开的时候》and《空白格》, I found an avenue for all my bottled up emotions to be expressed. When the album reached the tracks《越来越不懂》，《如果你爱我》，《化学实验》, my depression would have slowly abated. And when 《it's true》and《晨间新闻》comes on, it's as if the songs are telling me to not lose hope. The last song 《走过的路》was thus like a final encouragement, to tell me to not give up, to be stroong, and to endure whatever shit there was. No wonder this album won the Golden Melody Awards. Gradually, Tanya's songs became songs I listened to alone at night as I lay on my bed, songs I put on the speaker as I slowly drifted off to sleep.

由此可见，蔡健雅的歌对我那么有意义。她的歌就是我的故事，她的歌陪伴了我走过生命中最低落的时期。我从来不喜欢跟人“谈心事”，因为“谈心事”从来没解决过任何问题。所以她的歌往往就是我唯一的依靠。我从来不在KTV点她的歌，因为我觉得没人能把她的歌诠释得这么好，所以以免糟蹋好歌，宁可不唱。蔡健雅对我就是这样 - 那么的亲近，却又那么的遥不可及。

That's why Tanya's songs hold so much meaning for me, because through the songs, I can recount the phases of my life, and it was her songs that I turned to during the lowest points in my life. I never liked sharing my troubles with people, because nothing was ever solved from sharing your troubles with others. And thus, her songs often became my sole emotional support. That's why I never sing her songs in KTV, because I believe no one can sing the song like she can, and thus to prevent a perfectly good song being destroyed, I rather it not be sung. Tanya's songs are like that to me: so close to the heart, yet so distant at the same time.

所以今天看她出道14年在新加坡的第一场演唱会，感触自然良多。14年，让我等了太久了。从演唱会的票房来看，我看又要等另一个14年，才能在新加坡再次看他的演唱会。

Naturally, watching her first concert in Singapore since debuting 14 years ago, I did feel a large range of emotions. 14 years is too long a time to wait. However, looking from the lacklustre ticket sales, I predict it'll be another 14 yeras before I'll get to see her in concert in Singapore again.

如果我能跟蔡健雅说一句话，我只要说声“谢谢”。因为有你的歌，我才能度过这过去的10年。你的歌塑造了我很多对生活、对爱情的看法，而你的歌声和我一起走过了很多生活的悲欢离合。

If I have a chance to say something to Tanya, I really want to thank her. It's because of her songs that I managed to pull through the past 10 years. Her songs have shaped my perspectives on life and love, and accompanied me through the joys and sorrows of life.

谢谢你，蔡健雅，让我在深夜里一个人时不孤单，在失眠时有一个熟悉的声音伴我入眠，在无助时找到一丝依靠。

Thank you Tanya, for making me feel less lonely at night, for being the lullaby when I can't sleep, and for being the source of support when I'm feeling helpless.

蔡健雅，希望你继续做好音乐，因为新加坡有一个人会一直听你的歌。

So Tanya, please continue creating beautiful music, because here in Singapore, there's at least one person here who will keep listening.



Ok that's the end. I took 2 hours to write this blog entry. Oh wells, if anything, I'm pleasantly surprised by my own bilingualism. Maybe I should send the Chinese part to Tanya. Or put on Zaobao so she can see. Lol.

Today, i'm inspired to talk about my favourite birds. I have always liked observing birds, and apart from mammals, they are my next most desired animal groups to observe. Birds have the ability to look as if they have everything under control, even if their whole life is in a mess, their chicks are starving and they have just ingested a ballpoint pen. They seem so at ease with the world, and there is a certain soothing effect when looking at birds. Even when they shit, they do it in the calmest of matter. No sweat.

My favourite birds have not stayed constant throughout my life. From young, my 3 favourite birds were (in no particular order) the hoopoe, the toucan and the scarlet ibis. Never one to prefer the mainstream, the bald eagle disgusted me, and I maintain anyone who liked the scarlet macaw should be shot in the knee. If said person refers to the scarlet macaw simply as "parrot", he should then be shot in the other knee.

I liked the hoopoe because it was the bird on the first issue of BirdLife that my brother subscribed. If you want to know the profound impacts my brother had on my life, look no further then this. The hoopoe stared out of the cover, tempting me to choose it as my favourite bird, and as a young gullible primary school kid, I gladly took on its offer. It was thus utter bliss when I first spied the hoopoe in the Rainforest Aviary at Jurong Bird Park. And then I read Salman Rushdie's Haroun And The Sea Of Stories and saw him riding that giant hoopoe, and I was absolutely in love with the hoopie, and hoped that one day, I too could get a giant hoopoe of my own.

The toucan I liked becase it was colourful, and that it looked totally adorable with its giant beak. However, this obsession with things looking cute worn off as I grew older, and I began to question the practicality of such a huge beak. Yes it's extremely light, yes it helps them radiate heat, and it's used in getting the ladies all hot and sweaty under, but I believe there are other ways to do it without looking so ridiculous. It goes against the rule of camouflage, much like how wearing a giant moustached nose will not make you blend in anywhere in the world. And when it appeared on the cereal box of some Froot Loops shit, I knew it had sold itself out.

The scarlet ibis was precious. It was pink and gay, and stood on branches looking down into the water, probably to marvel at how pink and gay its own reflection was. It was all fine and dandy until Secondary One literature, where I was intensely tortured with a text entitled Scarlet Ibis. Despite the scarlet ibis being only referenced somewhere near the end of the text, the damage was done, and I realized I could not mention the scarlet ibis without seeing the face of Ms June Tan going "hock hock shorror shorror!". And thus a perfectly candidate for favourite bird was destroyed by a selfish author who decided it was emotional and thought-provoking to describe his own dying bloody brother as a "scarlet ibis". The brother wasn't even pink to start with. And I'm sure neither was he gay.

Come to the present, and this top 3 have undergone quite a change, though I must say it's an evolution rather than a complete overturn. The hoopoe still remains one of my favourite birds, and I swear I would piss my pants with joy if I ever see a hoopoe in the African wilderness gleefully cooing "hoopoe~ hoopoe~" in acknowledgement of its number 1 fan.

My love for the toucan shifted to its cousin, the hornbill. Granted, I never really liked the the hornbill when I was growing up, and I had always seen it as the more boring cousin of the toucan. At the jurong bird park, I also remember it as the birds that cannot be seen because their enclosures were so tall and vegetated, and I sometimes questioned whether there were even said birds in the cages. But what totally changed my impression of them were 2 occasions. The 1st was on a trip to the afore-mentioned bird park, but now at a much mature age, where I got to get up close and personal with the hornbills, at a session called "Hornbill Chitchat". At close range, it looked so absurb with its large beak and horn, but yet so stoic. And when it defiantly give a big dump while perched on the zookeeper's arm while everyone was watching it, I knew my respect for it had just shot through the roof.

The next occasion was in Brunei, when I was on a 7 day mission to CONQUER MOUNT BIANG. At the foot of Mount Biang, utterly exhausted, I was brought to attention of loud flapping sounds in the sky. Flapping sounds so loud it echoed through the jungles, almost as if they were made by machines rather than nature. But the sound was unmistakable "FLAP FLAP FLAP". And I looked up, to be met by 3 of the most majestic Giant Hornbills flying above the canopy, their enormous wingspan stretched and flapping to produce the loud sounds. Never had flapping sounds drew so much awe from me. This fascination with the hornbill was further piqued when, after crossing Mount Biang and going up another knoll, I looked across the forest canopy down below to see a sea of green with a single dead tree trunk poking out. And there on it, silhouetted against the bluish-purple morning sky, was a hornbill, majestic and grand. Do note that this was in the early morning, the first thing I saw when I woke up, and I had just gone through 5 days of non-stop walking with an alice pack up and down the Bruneian knolls. It might not have been quite the spectacle, but to a sensory-deprived person, it was like seeing a double rainbow.

The scarlet ibis fascination grew into something large, literally. I began liking flamingoes. For one, it is THE ambassador of kitsch, and I love kitsch. When I have a backyard in the future, I will rear lawn flamingoes as pets. Its colour defies all common sense, a bright pink bird in a lake of blue, silhouetted against a forest of green, under a sky of blue. It's as if the flamingo gave a middle finger to Mother Nature, said "you know what, screw this", and proceeded to pour pink paint over its own body because it likes it that way ("see how it TOTALLY brings attention away from my ugly downturned beak") and it totally pwns that stupid black and white bald eagle. And then the way it WALKS. It's like a stork or crane wannabe, so it tries to tiptoe gracefully, but at the same time it has to keep its balance with its wings outstretched, coz probably it does not have the keen sense of balance of the storks and the cranes. And has anyone of you ever noticed how flamingoes seem to always look so shifty walking around, what with the jerking heads and darting eyes. It's just the perfect embodiment of so many people I know around me. People who think they look super cool, but actually suffer from such low self-esteem it manifests in the way they behave. I believe everyone has their own Flamingoes in mind now. But anyway, I LOVE THE FLAMINGOES because they try so hard, but never seem to get it quite right. Oh and baby flamingoes are just heart-melting.

And thus, my favourite birds are still the hoopoe, the hornbill and the flamingo. It might change in the future, who knows, but currently it's this 3. I also suddenly realize i like many animals whose name starts with the letter H. My favourite antelope is the hartebeest, and my favourite deer is the hog deer. But not my favourite animal though. My favourite animal of all time is still the pademelon. I can go into another entry why, but I shan't, because I believe I have just turned off 95% of my blog readers with this inane entry.

Sorry.

20 years into my life, and I dare say I have no idea where all this is heading. But that's the beauty of life, isn't it. The whole uncertainty of it. Never in my wildest dreams would I have envisioned myself at this position in my life now. So what's the point of thinking what I will be like in 10 years time?

10 years ago, my dream was to be a zookeeper. I wanted to study zoology, and become an animal safari person. Whatever that meant. A rule in JC (which eventually was overturned 3 months too late) meant I could not take Biology with Geography, and by choosing the latter, my hopes of becoming Sua Irwin were dashed.

Up till Sec 4, my tertiary education plans were shaped by my much more illustrious cousins. They took up high-flying scholarships like PSC and SAFOS, and went to schools like Cambridge and Harvard. I had no idea what I wanted for my university education then, but I reckoned if I could go to where they were going, I would probably meet the definition of schooling success my parents held for me.

With still no concrete idea what I want to do, I decided I should just study what I liked. And I chose to go to the Arts stream. Not Humanities, but Arts, something that my parents objected because there was no future in it. But I thought a future would be equally bleak even if I took Science and screwed up majorly coz I hated the subjects. So I chose the Arts, and by the time they found out my ridiculous subject combi (which no one else took in the school), it was a bit too late. Nevertheless, I was glad I chose it, because I enjoyed learning in school, I did moderately well for my subjects, and I had wonderful classmates to boot.

In JC, I thought studying Tourism would be good, because it did seem fun and there was actually a viable career from it. Looking back, it might even have been the safe road. I was looking at EHL and Cornell, and reading up on good hotel schools to go. However, looking at the course details, I realize it was not the business aspect of tourism that i had an interest in, but rather it was more on the cultural sociological aspects. Perhaps then Tourism was just a more practical option for what I really enjoyed, which was anthropology. Maybe my pragmatism had manifested into a subconscious decision to choose a more career-friendly degree, and had overlooked the fact that I could simply study what I LIKED, period.

By then, it was time for applying for scholarships and colleges, and it was definitely not the time to reach square one in your tertiary education research because you had a sudden revelation regarding what you wanted to study. And so to test whether my interest in anthropology could land me a job, I decided to apply for a scholarship first, rather than a uni. I applied SIA, CAAS, STB and URA. SIA and CAAS didn't even reply to me. I was at the final round of STB when URA offered me the scholarship, and I took it. Either way, I would be happy. Moreover, URA allowed me to study anthropology, provided I pair it with a sociology major. It definitely was a good deal.

With a scholarship secured, it gave me hope that I'll have a job after I graduate, and I had a greater leeway when applying for schools. Except I didn't know which schools to apply. I know for a fact the UK curriculum didn't suit me, but there were still hundreds and thousands of colleges in the US to choose.

To tell you the truth, right up till army, I hadn't really bothered with researching for universities. Like many Singaporean students, US colleges fell into 2 groups: Very good, and good. The rest just didn't matter. For the Very Good, it just consisted of the Ivies, because that's what we hear most from our parents, in schools, during college talks. Naturally, the aim was to go for a Very Good school, regardless which one. The mindset was to get in first, then worry. There was no need to read up on the school culture, the curriculum, the student population, the location.... as long as the name is famous, it probably won't be too bad. And that's how I applied to UChicago, then realized after I applied that I will be absolutely miserable had they offered me a place. Looking back, it was a really foolish and dangerous thing to do.

It was only last year that the whole LAC system came into my conscious. I was reading up on colleges with no core curriculum (at that time, the only one i knew was Brown), and I stumbled upon this whole treasure stash of schools called the LACs. I found Amherst, I found Vassar, I found Grinnell. I decided I needed to look closer into the LACs, and also realized I really needed to do adequate research on something that would be a big part of my life for the next 4 years. So I looked up Fiske, I looked up collegeprowler, I looked up Barrons, I looked up Princeton Review, abd I looked through all the rankings there are. And I decided I had 2 schools I really wanted to get into, Amherst and Pomona.

Amherst had the Open Curriculum and was THE best LAC, while Pomona had the weather and the West Coast vibe. Faced with the choice of choosing 1 school to ED, I decided Amherst, simply because acceptance rates were higher for Amherst than Pomona. I thus thought I would have a higher chance of getting an acceptance letter. No such luck though. I was deferred to Regular, and then eventually rejected.

Pomona, on the other hand, mysteriously accepted me in the RD pool. I guess it's true how they say US college apps are a crapshoot. Even up till now (and probably will be for a long time), I still can't beieve my acceptance, and I do think it's a mistake somewhere. This also reminds me, i can't find the "reply envelope" referred to in the acceptance letter that was supposed to come with the acceptance package. Maybe it REALLY was a mistake.

So the point is, if you ask when I was 12 whether I would see myself at 21, having a place in a college that sounds like a Pokemon, with a scholarship by URA, to study anthropology & sociology, I would laughed at its incredulity. But life is crazy, and the road has led me to this place. What's the point of craning my neck to look into the distance to see where this road leads? Just take it one step at a time, enjoy the scenery around you, but look where you're going. This is my take-away.

要跟别人不一样，就要更努力去闯

That's my blog header, and I still believe in it. I had to work to get what I want, and sadly, what I want often means having to put a fight with the people around me. I had to convince URA that anthropology is relevant to Urban Planning, and had to send them countless emails telling them that an LAC is a qualified education institution. I had to persuade my parents that I wanted to do arts, that I was old enough to survive 4 months of backpacking by myself. And most of all, I had to study and get the grades to prove to myself that I could achieve what I dream. When everyone around you doubts you, the worst thing that can happen is for you to start doubting yourself too.

Yes I am an F, a Feeler. I do what my heart tells me, I do what makes me happy at the moment, and I believe everything will work out eventually. But thankfully, I always had a touch of rationality within me. I think through options, I weigh them, and I know I need to be outstanding to allow me to do what I desire. Feeling and Thinking. They conflict, but they can also balance.

My greatest fear is helplessness. And that's why I fear death, because you are helpless in death. But one can be helpless in life too, and that's what I am afraid of most. When you are left with no choices, when you are stuck in a life you can't get out of, when you are met with a certain doom you can't avoid. And that's why I want freedom, and I like control of my own life. That's the only way I can prevent the helplessness bearing down on me.

My dad always asks me why can't I be more normal. Yes I know I might not fit his definition of normal. But yet I don't want to be the Same. I don't know how I'll be able to not be the Same, or if i'm anywhere close, but I'm working on it, everyday of my life.

Before I start on the topic proper, let me recount an interesting MSN conversation I had last night:


Person A: So where are u going for uni?

Me: Pomona College. In the US.

Person A: Oh...

Person A: Why not Australia? It's cheaper rite?

Me: Why Australia?

Person A: idk. most people I noe that can't go NUS/NTU/SMU go Aus instead.

Me: I actually have a place in NUS.

Person A: Then why you don wan go there??? You like overseas so much ah?

Me: *deep breaths... take deep breaths....*


Yes granted I don't know this person that well, and I have no idea why this person suddenly initiates a convo with me in the first place, but nevertheless, this is something I will have to cope with for the next 4 years. I think I should come up with a list of replies to use, which does not sound rude yet is adequately witty.


Onwards to the topic proper. As a Gemini, I have a decidedly hard time making decisions, and when faced with a choice that will affect my whole life indefinitely, the dilemma sorts of consume my entire brain. I took out Grinnell because URA won't let me go there, and Carleton because it's in Minnesota, it's snowed in 8 months a year, its Compulsory Core Curriculum includes a writing portfolio and 4 credits of Phys Ed, and I only applied to it because the supplement was really easy.


I love Vassar, I really do. I love it's campus, I love it's environment, I love it's student body, and I love the fact that it has an Urban Studies department. If rankings weren't a question, I would have gone there without a doubt. But alas, the prestige whore in me tells me it's still a step down from Pomona and Wesleyan.


So it came down to Pomona vs Wesleyan. Wesleyan has the upperhand when it comes to name recognition in Singapore, considering how Wesleyan is really active in promoting in Asia, with its Freeman Scholarship, and Singaporeans are probably more aware of schools in North-Eastern US. But then again, that means I will be seeing 8-10 other Singaporeans (according to KX) there. I don't know any Singaporeans at Pomona currently.


Wesleyan also has a higher percentage of international students than Pomona, a much bigger international alumni network due to its size, and I really like the whole liberal-hippie culture thing going there. But here's why I eventually decided to Pomona (this is more a self-assuring exercise more than anything else).


10 Reasons Why I Decided Not To Go To Wesleyan And Decided I Will Go To Pomona


1. Because Singaporeans are all ranking-crazy, here's some ranking data. According to the USNWR LAC Ranking for 2010, Pomona is 6th, while Wesleyan is 12. People say it should be higher if not for the East Coast bias and Middlebury knowing how to play the rankings. Selectivity wise, Pomona is the 9th most selective uni, 2nd most selective LAC in the US, based on acceptance rates. Pomona's 13% acceptance vs Wesleyan's 22%. Yes I feel I need to educate people about the academics of my future school, so people won't think I go there because FASS might be too challenging for me.


2. Location, location, location. 35 miles west, you have Los Angeles. 40 miles south, you have the OC beaches, San Diego, and a bit further, Mexico. To the north are the San Gabriel Mountains, with the nearest ski resorts at Mt San Antonio just 12 miles away. And my favourite? About an half and a half drive east, we have the deserts: Joshua Tree National Park, where the Mojave desert meets the Sonoran desert. Those jagged rock formations, stark sceneries, STUNNING SUNSETS... it's enough to get me there. Yeah Connecticut has NYC and Boston, but the nearest skiing is 2 hours drive away, and there is no desert!


3. Weather. Yes, from young, I have dreamt dreamt dreamt about studying in a classroom, while autumn trees in hues of orange, red and yellow sway gently in the wind outside my window. I looked forward to the day when I will wake up and see snow falling, put on my trench coat and scarf, and confidently walk the campus like Neo in the Matrix (of course, he didn't have a scarf). But of course, snow gives way to slush. Wesleyan has the seasons, and the campus looks gorgeous in autumn. Except for the next 4 months, it's snowing, till spring, where it then rains every day. Summer brings the heat, then it's autumn rain, and then winter again. I, for one, hate the rain. I hate how the water enters my shoes and creeps up my jeans, and continuous days of rain makes me feel depressed.

And that's why Pomona, despite having relatively monotonous Californian desert weather, appeals to me. It only rains a total of 2 weeks in the whole year. Yes it gets unbelievably hot in Summer, but it gets cold at night too (it's in the desert after all). And when autumn/winter comes, and the 10 deg celcius temperature sets in, it's just optimal. And being an avid supporter of sunsets, the desert sunset in California is breathtaking. With barely any clouds, it's sunshine everyday, thus the flip-flop culture on campus. Can you imagine going to school everyday in your flip flops? Yeah that's Pomona.


4. Ok I can't believe I am so shallow and not touch on academics yet, partly because Wesleyan has excellent academics too, so it wasn't a "clincher" factor. Pomona has the highest endowment per student amongst all the LACs, while Wesleyan has the highest funding for its science labs. Pomona's faculty to student ratio is 7 : 1, while Wesleyan is 9 : 1. What clinched it was the Claremont system of Pomona. Let me explain. Pomona's total student population is only 1500, and compared to Wesleyan's 3000, it's almost half. In fact it's smaller than Hwa Chong. But then there is this wonderful system called the Claremont system that Pomona is in. The Claremont system is a cluster of schools around Pomona that includes 4 other excellent undergraduate college (Claremont McKenna which specializes in political science and international relations, the all-female Scripps, Pitzer which has a more alternative curriculum, and Harvey Mudd the bastion of science and engineering) and 2 graduate colleges (Claremont Graduate University and Keck Graduate Institute, a biomed grad school). Claremont students can choose to cross-register in courses across the Claremont schools, and they get to take part in extra-curricular activities and social events across the schools. Students can even eat at all 8 dining halls in the Claremont system. So it's all the benefits of a big school, with the advantage of a small school. That's what made me liked Amherst too, with their 5-college system.


5. Pomona Orientation is a lot better. Haha. The orientation adventure includes an Orientation Adventure, which has options like backpacking, trekking in Yosemite, beach adventure, island adventure... it's like 8 adventures to choose from, and they are ALL FREE (of course, there is the On-Campus option for those that want a comfy bed). Don't think this is applicable for Wesleyan.


6. Proximity to LA means I GET TO SEE KPOP/ASIAN STARS IN CONCERT OMT OMT OMT, because they normally go to perform at the West Coast instead of the East since there are more Asians at the West Coast. For those without a car, there is a metro to LA from Claremont, and the Pomona administration will even pay for some of your concerts and matches that you wish to attend. It's all part of the (high) school fees.


7. Pomona's administration really seem to care about the students, and it organizes lots of fun things for the students, including Death By Chocolate (need I elaborate), Ski-Beach day (where you ski in the morning and head to the beach in the afternoon), Snack (where everyday at 10pm, the dining hall opens for free snacks and food) etc. There has been run-ins with the school administration at Wesleyan with the student body, not sure how true is that tho.


8. Low number of Singaporeans. I don't know why, but I think if I were to attend a school with Singaporeans, I'll definitely cluster with them. So I guess I'll have to force myself into an environment where I won't even have the chance to be in my comfort zone. I'll definitely learn a lot from this I'd expect, for better or for worse.


9. Ranks on Princeton's Review "Dorm Like Palaces", "School Runs Like Butter", "Beautiful Campus" and "Students Happy With School" charts. If that is not indicative of the quality of life, I don't know what is. Yeah it's not old-English architecture like Wesleyan, but the buildings in Pomona are designed in the "Spanish Renaissance Revival and Mission Styles". Which, from Internet photos, look really like what one would find at old Mexican or Spanish towns. More than half of the dorms are Singles, and even if you're in a double, you'll probably find a good roommate considering how the Pomona Housing Form requires you to answer MULTIPLE CHOICE, SHORT ANSWER and even ESSAY QUESTIONS. According to the student, they only had 2 roommate breakups last year, and for both of them, their parents filled in the forms for them.


10. Californian girls, they're undeniable. Ok the truth is, Pomona people are ugly. They look geeky, and have no fashion sense. Guess i'll fit in then.


So with the above reasons, I believe they will override the cons of a Pomona education, which I can currently think of as


1. The monotonous weather

2. Smog from forest fires and LA pollution

3. After Chile, New Zealand, Japan, the next mega-quake is expected to hit at the 4th corner of the Pacific... why that's California! And are those nuclear plants I see in California? Yeah 2 of 'em!

4. I will be about a 5 hours flight from my nearest friend in the US.


Either way, I hope all of you will now have a greater understanding about why I chose my future school, and next time when people ask why I choose to go to a school that sounds like what Sohee famously chirped in Tell Me, I will refer them to this note.


As for whether I am excited for school, the answer is no. I stil maintain my unenthusiasm for schooling and studies, and the upcoming backpacking trip holds a much wider appeal to me.

So I just got back from my little romp in JB, and while there are many things unagreeable with the city, none is as depressing as the Johor Zoo.

My last memory of being in the Johor Zoo was when I was in Primary School, and I remembered it as a wasteland filled with starving sunbears desperate for bread thrown by guests, and monkeys so hungry one grabbed a (human) baby's head and started gnawing. During my stint at the backpacking hostel, a guest had said she had sworn off Asian zoos after going to the Johor Zoo. Apparently, the state of the animals had brought her to tears.

Determined to track down this tearjerker of a zoo, I decided to forgo the RM3 entrance fee in the name of research and curiousity. The ticket is actually RM2, but I was charged an extra ringgit for an "animal show", which mysteriously never ever happened. A walk around the zoo would also reveal that there is not a single location suitable for the conducting of the afore-mentioned "animal show". Nevertheless, I decided not to ask for my money back as the zoo desperately needs every ringgit it can get.

The zoo is indeed one of the most heartwretching place I have ever been. Animals sit around enclosures barely big enough for them to move around, visibly bored, stressed and starved. Monkeys hang onto the bars and wait for humans to walk by, reaching out for any food the guest might offer. Sometimes they do give food, which include marshmallows, popcorn and chocolate. 

Large animals like tigers and panthers walk around their enclosures in circles, a sure sign of stress. Elephants and camels are kept in enclosures with NOTHING, not even a single plant for them to twiddle with. Very weirdly, the biggest enclosure was a grassy verdant slope reserved for... two BARKING DEERS. It really does lead one to ponder the significance of these two barking deers, and why they deserve such better treatment.

Most ironically, the enclosure with the most undergrowth is the ostrich enclosure, which is overrun with bushes and weeds that the ostriches don't even dare to venture into, staying at small patches of sand at the side. Eagles and falcons, birds who need large spaces to fly, are kept in enclosures so small they can't even stretch their wings. Animals with distinctly different habitats are placed together, such as the flying fox with the guinea pigs.

It really does say something about how desperate the zoo is for funding when there are THREE cafeterias in the zoo selling food, all 50 m away from each other, right in the middle of the zoo. There is animal photography, where guests can pay to take photos with balding cockatoos, and even a lion cub. The poor lion cub was thrown a metal plate to play with, and it looked really really frightened.

I know I should not be criticizing this zoo so much. Try running a zoo with the limited funds they have. But personally, I think a lot of zoos in the world are really nothing but prisons for animals unlucky enough to be captured/born into the zoo. It's something like a vicious cycle: people donate to glamorous zoos, and they get bigger and better, while no one cares about all these smaller zoos, as they struggle to survive, making the animals suffer along too.

I still remember a zoo in Gaza that was so poor they painted their donkeys to look like zebras. And the book Zoo on the Road to Nablus: A Story of Survival from the West Bank, about a Dr Sami who is determined to keep his zoo in Palestinian territory and the animals he love inside alive, despite the blockade and war. I guess running a zoo is about determination, about passion, and hoping to spread awareness and knowledge of animals. While respectabe notions these are, sometimes it's just best not to even have a zoo when the animals inside are tortured, both mentally and physically.

( For some photos and videos )
After leaving the zoo, I decided I will not waste another RM5 on a taxi, and decided to walk back to the city centre. Having stupidly left my Malaysia city map and Lonely Planet book at home, I was met with a crossroad after exiting the zoo. Using my superb direction sense and memory, I decided I should walk straight instead of turn right, because I VAGUELY remember coming from that road.

So i walked, passing a Spastic Children Association where a few womenfolk were dancing traditional malay dances in what looked like a hall, some housing estates, before finding myself reaching a Malay Cemetery. Now... I don't exactly remember passing any malay cemetery when I came.... So I decided to turn right because if my direction sense proves agile, I would go back to where I would be if I had turned right in the beginning.

Which would really hold true, only if the road did not curve. Sadly, it did. So I walked pass more landed housing estate, all the time holding my bag close to me because I keep having mental images of someone riding in a motorbike passing me and grabbing my bag. After a while, I landed in a semi-forested area (more forested, I believe, than many of the enclosures at the zoo), before passing an area full of official buildings.

And then to my utter shock, I found myself in the heavily gated compounds of what looked like a Police Academy. Except I was walking OUT of the compound than IN, which was really intriguing because I don't remember walking INTO it, and even if I did, should I not be stopped by a security guard seeing how guarded this place was?

So trying to keep my profile low, I walked pass the guardroom, where people were showing their security passes to come IN, while I just walked out as if I did have a security pass and that I just settled some very important business in the police academy which these people have no authority to enquire about. I even smiled at one of the police guards.

I then realized that the best person to ask for directions would probably be a police guard too, so I turned around and coolly asked one of them which is the way to JB Sentrel. They pointed me in a direction "just walk there", and I replied "thanks" and strode away, before they could realize that a serious breach of security had just happened and the intruder had just asked them for directions.

Of course, "just walk there" was an extremely ambiguous direction, and I still felt as lost as a UN taskforce sent to Iraq to find WMDs. However, I decided I should just walk to where the tall buildings were, and so I set off once again to find JB Sentrel. Luckily, it was evening and the weather was pretty cooling, and Recce has made me develop a penchant for walking.

It was almost nightfall when I finally reached the tall buildings. I did not hesitate in entering the warm air-con embrace of one of those Generic Shopping Centre you find everywhere in JB. I did not even bother finding out the name of the building, but judging from how I felt, I shall named it WOOHOOOOO Shopping Centre.

Ah I love getting lost.

Back from JB, I am all ready to start on my next 

( BIG MALAYSIAN ADVENTURE )

Today, like everyday now, was a day of nothing. Trapped within the physical limitations of this island, I decided to follow what Xavier de Maistre did in 1794. His Voyage autour de ma chambre was a grand travel narrative accounting his explorations of his own room, and adopting this attitude to my current situation, I decided to be a tourist in my own country. Armed with a camera, I went off to the nooks and crannies of Singapore that do seem quite foreign.

My journey ended at the Punggol, which to me is very much a foreign place as say, Johor Bahru. To me, Punggol has always been the "frontier town" of Singapore, banished to the furthest corner the island. Whenever someone says he or she lives in Punggol, what ensues is always a wave of sympathetic comforting and a quiet respect for the person's continued endurance of long commuting hours. As a South-Western person, a North-Eastern district is probably the furthest I can go before I stumble into Malaysia.

I had dinner at this shopping centre called Punggol Point, which had an aura around it not unlike a service station along a long highway. It was basic in facilities, and its design and architecture were based firmly on the grounds of practicality. The buzz and crowd inside was a stark contrast to the relative stillness of the surrounding housing district. It was as if someone switched the volume to mute the moment you stepped out of the shopping centre.

Dinner was at one of those generic food courts infesting all corners of Singapore, all selling the same local fare, mixed veg rice, korean food, jap food, and mediocre western food. I sat at a table meant for 4, and was soon joined by a middle aged lady whose look immediately bore the weariness of constant daily commuting to the city for work. The last part was probably  overactive imagination on my part. But nevertheless, first impressions were definitely not positive for both parties, and I will go on to explain why.

I was in the midst of putting a spoonful of food into my mouth when she asked whether she could sit at the empty seat opposite me. With the food too consumed to be spit out, but not too chewed to be swallowed, I was caught in the most awkward and helpless of situations. I attempted to gesture with my hands, more specifically a "no" gesture to reply her "here got anyone sit"? question. Sadly, in such situations, a "no" gesture will always invite more resentment as the person wonders it's a "no" to her question, or "no you can't sit here". Though common sense would tell it's the former. Granted though, common sense is far from common in our daily lives.

Frustrated, she asked "so yes or no?" This was a tricky question, it really was, considering there was no elaboration on what she wanted an answer to. Luckily, I had swallowed the food to give a coherent reply that will prevent all further misunderstandings.

"yah can sit".

So she sat down.

Normally, I much prefer eating alone, without the need to talk to strangers. So you can say it's quite unexpected that a conversation ensued, and that I was the one that started it. Truth be told, I really had no intentions for a conversation. I had just asked her where the nearest LRT station was, and the conversation took off from there. I think that's the beauty of being single (not in the relationship way, but in a SOLO way), as it opens up opportunities for conversations. When you are in a pair or group, people immediately back away as they feel threatened. That's why I'm always a proponent for solo travelling.

But anyway, she asked where I came from, and I said I was from Queenstown. "Wah QUEENSTOWN!" Her reply seemed as if I just said I came from Malawi, or an equally distant country. At that moment, I almost felt like a foreigner, intruding into the peace and quietness of this foreign land called Punggol. What added on to this feeling was when she started introducing Punggol as if talking to a foreigner. She talked about how Punggol people are not very friendly since they are mostly young families, and that no one actually likes living in Punggol but most have no choice. Then she asked me about Queenstown, and I told her Queenstown is just filled with old people but housing prices are very high.

We then moved on to Singaporean's favourite topic of food, as she talked about the good food in Queenstown, namely at the Margaret Drive food centre, and the Henry's Chicken Rice at Tanglin Halt. She then told me she grew up in Joo Chiat, which I guess to many Singaporeans is THE most colourful place one can grow up in. It's almost like saying "i grew up in the Hood!" She talks about how Joo Chiat used to have a community feel, how people in Joo Chiat are more laid back, and how Joo Chiat has the best food in Singapore. In conclusion, I was quite the passive listener, but it really got me thinking about things.

I remembered reading on an expat forum where the expats were discussing the best place to live in Singapore. Somehow the discussion centred on how different places in Singapore had different "personalities", like how Eastern Singapore is more laid back while Western Singapore is more uptight. As a Singaporean, I just felt quite amused at their inane stereotyping, but slowly I began to wonder whether different estates in Singapore really had different kinds of people. Of course, I'm moving beyond glaring obvious examples like how Nassim or Bukit Timah are for the rich (though I guess they do count somewhat), but more on whether the people from Boon Lay differ from the people from Bukit Panjang. Or whether Pasir Ris residents differ from those living in Toa Payoh. 

Judging from how small Singapore is, the expected response would probably be "Singapore is too small to have any sub-identities lar!". But I really do think the possibility is actually there, and I would not mind studying people's perceptions of Singaporeans from different housing districts in Singapore. I remember there was a survey done on where the most good-looking Singaporeans came from and Holland Village came up top (-.-"). Ignoring the fact that those people were probably thinking more about the expats than Singaporeans living in Holland Village, it does play a part in building perceptions of Singaporeans to places.

Then it dawned on me that the very conversation I was having was a very Singaporean conversation. We were talking about food, and familiar places, without the need for further explanation. This conversation would not be the same between two foreigners in Singapore, neither would it happen so smoothly between a Singaporean and a foreigner (or even a new immigrant). And I guess this is what really makes us Singaporean. To be privy to this database of local knowledge and lingoes, as if it's a set of secret code blocked off to foreigners.

I had a similar thought after watching Kumar's Amazing Race. The things he said were easily picked up by Singaporeans, while I believed a foreigner would probably have struggled to grasp where the humour really was. Just to state an example, by naming 3 places (say People's Park Centre, Mustafa Shopping Complex, Orchard Towers), I would immediately conjure up 3 vastly different perceptions and paradigms in Singaporeans. An unacquainted foreigner though, would probably imagine People's Park as a giant park or square constructed to commemorate the people of Singapore or something.

This common understanding among the locals probably play out in every country in the world, and that's why I believe it is never easy for a new immigrant to fit in, because this "database" of knowledge was painstakingly built up since young. Yes they can probably ace a test if they are asked for the racial proportion of Singapore, or the significance of the stars on the Singapore flag. But ask them where to get the best chicken rice in Singapore and they'll probably say Mandarin Hotel. Which I believe all Singaporeans know is basically crap and the most glaring form of government-endorsed daylight robbery.

Only a Singaporean would know where to find Katong Laksa in Katong, and that there are at least 3 stalls all claiming to be the original one. Singaporean teens will also know Katong to be the place where the cheapest KTV can be found in Singapore, but I prefer not to state where it is because this open secret is getting a bit too overbooked these days.

A foreigner might view Changi Village as a quaint place removed from the city, and a starting point to trips to Pulau Ubin. But only a Singaporean will know that Changi Village (together with Adam Road Food Centre) serves the best nasi lemak in Singapore, and that it's the de facto turf of trannies.

Only a Singaporean will know that to exit to Plaza Singapura directly from Dhoby Gaut Mrt, one has to head to the NEL Exit, not the North-South Line Exit.

It's these little common knowledge that defines us as Singaporeans, and makes me proud to be a Singaporean. It beats any National Education lesson by the government, and like any Singaporean, I have bones to pick with the government, but given a choice, we would not want to live anywhere else in the world. I do not love Singapore because of its government, I love Singapore DESPITE its government.

I love Singapore, because it's perfect, but more so because it's imperfect. It's a country riddled with idiosyncracies, where a movie like The Kids Are Alright is R21 and banned to one cinema because of its gay content, while New Urban Male is allowed to open 7 branches all around Singapore despite its comparable homosexual undertones.

It's a country where a MRT station called Buangkok cannot be opened even though it's in a housing estate, while a MRT station called Marina Bay can be allowed to exist even though it currently only serves 2 purposes: a) to get onto the shuttle bus to Marina Barrage b) for people to take to when they want a seat on the train, and is willing to sacrifice time for the detour down one stop.

It's a country where we are so racially harmonious everyone is comfortable enough to be racist. We poke fun of other races, we poke fun at our own race. Neither are we worried when the Malays seem to have a virtual stranglehold on 4 aspects of Singaporean life (namely the Civil Defence, the S-League, Singapore Idol, and breakdancing).

People always ask me whether I will defend Singapore in times of a war. No, I won't defend Singapore for its government, or for things like the NATIONAL VALUES ON THE FLAG or for the RIGHTS TO SELF-GOVERNANCE, or other politically correct things those officers and regulars like to spout to the propaganda machine called Army News.

No, I defend Singapore because the 3 women I love most (namely my mum, my 三伯母, and my 大姨妈) are in here. My mum who gave birth to me gave me life, my 三伯母 who raised me up gave me a heart, and my 大姨妈 who taught me so much gave me a brain. That's why I will put my life on the line for them.

I will defend Singapore because of the grandma who lives on the same floor as me, who spent her whole life working for a better future, not for herself, but for her children, grandchildren, and for Singapore. At 68, she continues to contribute to her country, by taking care of her granddaughter. Of course, I will defend her, because she has done so much. (I also encourage her to go on those senior citizens trip organized by the Community Centre to Malaysia coz I'm sure she'll have tonnes of fun.)

I will defend the kids who go to the childcare centre downstairs, because they can't defend for themselves, and they too deserve a good life. But the guys bloody better not immigrate before serving NS.

I will defend Singapore not because the country wants me to, or because it's my duty or calling. I will not defend Singapore for those fucked up regulars, or those people in the PAP, or those who destroyed the song Home by using it for Total Defence Day instead of National Day. But I will defend Singapore for the people I love.

 And the government should just stop publicising all those total defence crap because we all have our own reasons to protect Singapore, and we don't need the government to trumpet them. When the time comes, I will defend my country, with or without your propaganda.

Ok I have no idea how a CONVERSATION WITH A MIDDLE AGED WOMAN evolved to a discourse on patriotism. Phew this entry is 2200 words long. I really should send it to the Straits Times so they can publish it in the Youth section, and hopefully replace those lame opinions that always say something to the tune of "I think both the parents and the school play a part in... [insert random phenomenon]"

But anyway, what I really want to know is whether anyone of you actually do feel an "identity" living in different parts in Singapore? Is there a trait that defines your housing estate? Do you see a difference in a Singaporean from Yishun or a Singaporean from Jurong? What stereotypes do you have of different housing estates in Singapore? Do YOU feel a sense of belonging to YOUR housing estate?

The questions above can easily be worth 16 marks. So please answer it.