Long time no talk, my friends,
It’s another rainy day in Singapore. Really, since last week or a couple weeks ago, it’s been raining at least once a day. It makes the climate a little more unbearable due to its humidity that’s 10 times worse than anywhere else (even that of Durham or Korea in mid-july to mid-august). I don’t mind it at all, except in the morning that I have to climb up the hill once I get off the bus to come to school ☺.
Anyhow, I haven’t had time this past 2 weeks to write, although I have had so many urges to write. And now, I’m writing, because honestly, I can’t concentrate on my studying anymore. Throughout the whole weekend, I can’t say I studied the whole time, but I did more studying than usual, and now I’m just tired of staring at the textbook that has so many graphs and numbers that I don’t understand much. But this doesn’t mean that I have nothing to say. You know what a chatterbox I can be, so no worries.
So recently, I’ve been thinking a lot about being a woman, especially an Asian woman, in the context of diverse environment. I have been lucky enough to be exposed to diverse environment since I was young, and I have thoroughly enjoyed the privilege. But what I also learned, in many painful ways, was that I have to speak up (literally and figuratively) to get my voice heard, even in this country where Asians (East Asians especially since 70% or so of the population is Chinese descendents) are majority while the culture has a fair mix of Western influence. The same may apply to South East Asian women. In one of my classes (on leadership), my prof mentioned that first-born Indian males are more likely to dominate the conversation while SE Asian women are more likely to be someone who doesn’t get opportunities to speak. Same applies to tall, white (usually handsome) males who are fluent in English (or not, in my opinion), again according to him. Another thing: inspirational leaders, like Barack Obama or MLK Jr., are most likely to be men (I mean how many females can you think of at this moment?) with deep low voices.
All these things reminded me of my voice class at Duke. How random, but I promise it will all come together. I was in Dr. Linnartz’s class, an amazing classical voice teacher. She pointed out the fact that my talking voice is “too low” compared to my singing voice (which is mezzo-soprano-ish). She wanted me to use my throat less, because I was constantly hurting my vocal cord by speaking the way I do always. I tried a little, but I felt ridiculous. I mean, I thought my voice was already high and distinct enough, normally, and now, I have to speak differently?!? I talked to my mom that night, and she also pointed out that after I started to speak English more fluently than Korean, my voice got significantly lower than before. So I never ended up even trying to “change” my talking voice, but that really got me to think a lot of things that I experienced while I was learning English over past 8 years. I have been usually pretty good with foreign languages, and one of the reasons was because I’m good at imitating different sounds, according to one of my teachers. The way I speak English now is after a constant imitation of American people that I’ve encountered, especially the ones who speak “good” American English. The way they spoke (therefore I imitated) has always been a lower-key, basically more “masculine” voices which were (unconsciously) taught to me as intellectual, sophisticated and persuasive voices. I basically learned how to speak like a handsome White male, in sum.
It may sound a little ridiculous to you, but I actually think my whole logic makes a perfect sense. I’m not saying that I don’t like the way I talk, but I find it simply fascinating to find out linguistic development to embrace the subtle cultural pressure that I had never thought of. I used to pronounce the same word hundreds of times before I went to bed if I was made fun of that day due to a certain “wrong” pronunciation. I used to hate the fact that I’m not a native speaker of English, especially when I was frustrated with writing. I hated the fact that some random white dude in class interrupted me in the middle of my talk, just because I was going a little slow. So what I learned was how to fight back. I wanted to have the same style of weapon as they do: precise American accent with lower voice that really resonates throughout the classroom, not to mention the deliberate speed which gives the other side a hard time to process what you’re talking about while not giving them opportunities to interrupt you. I wanted to become a better talker than a better listener, while constantly thinking what I can talk about right after this person who’s talking right now (without really listening to her/him). I was embodying the American White Male characters academically, whether I liked it or not.
Friends, this is not an attack on any specific person or people, but I’m a little frustrated about this aspect, because I find a lot of Westerners (both females and males) and myself, who are educated in the West with different styles from the East, making this mistake all the time, without meaning to hurt other people’s self-esteem or to kill others’ opportunities in the class. All my colleagues here are brilliant people, although some of their English is not as “good” as some of the natives or people like me. But when I see people being impatient while they really just have to listen, I get frustrated, because I feel like I am going back to several years ago and looking at myself who was being attacked and interrupted so many times, just because I wasn’t quite American/Western or even, masculine (not “manly” per se but culturally speaking). Theory of oppression in real life, right here.
So what do I do now? I actually try to speak less (although I do talk a lot in classes), and listen more. I sit back just a little, and pay attention to every word that my friend who’s not so fluent in English has to say. Learning to not to talk is by far the hardest thing that I’m working on (OK, maybe microeconomics is about there). Silence is NOT a virtue (because it is indifference and powerlessness), but listening definitely is. And I do believe that, one day, people with voices like me, can speak up freely, inspiring others, just like MLK and Barack.
Just as always, I miss you all my beloved. Peace.
Monday, August 31, 2009
Monday, August 17, 2009
So, why public policy?
Another post… a short one.
Today was officially the first full week of classes. The first class was intro to public policy, and I thought, to my surprise, the lecture was great. Prof. Lejano is one of the authors of our textbooks, and I really thought what he was talking about. But anyhow, he really reminded me of why I chose to get into public policy.
He asked: Who knows what the number one cause for child mortality in the world?
People had many different answers, but I knew what it was: diarrhea. The disease that can get cured with simple medicine along with clean water and decent nutrition that doesn’t have to be a 5-course meal at a fancy restaurant.
Diarrhea is really painful (oh, don’t I know after this summer in Ghana…), even to a fully grown adult, and the degree of suffering for this simple sickness is probably a thousand times worse for children.
And here’s some more to think about. According to Newsweek (Jul.27th 09):
* 1/6 of humanity: undernourished as a result of the financial crisis.
* 11% increase: in people who will go hungry in 2009 to 1.02 billion, a record high.
* 71%: the world’s extremely poor (who live on less than $1.25 a day) who depend upon farming for their livelihood.
* 60% of a poor consumer’s income that is spent buying staple foods.
* 24% higher food prices were by the end of 2008 than they were in 2006.
I copied down the information when I was in the library, so I don’t know if this makes sense to you, but you get the essence.
What I’m trying to say is that the degree of human suffering that I have witnessed whether it was in inner city Durham or Port-au-Prince, Haiti, really breaks my heart, and although I know there are a lot of theoretical learning experiences involved in public policy education, I know for fact that this will only make me stronger as a more effective policy maker who can really connect with people, not with a piece of paper that is separated from the reality of suffering. And that's where my anthropologist instinct will come in.
Anyhow, yeah, it was a tiring day, but really awesome. Some of my friends found that it was so weird that I was doing masters in public policy instead of Ph.D in Anthropology. Don’t’ worry, I still have the intention, but for now, I think I made the right choice ☺. Good night my kin, and I’ll write more when I can. Now, back to South East Asian politics and policy.
PS: I just found out that a little girl named Midlene, who was a darling when I visited Fondwa (Haiti) last year, was adopted to an awesome family. Please be happy for her, although you don’t know her ☺
Today was officially the first full week of classes. The first class was intro to public policy, and I thought, to my surprise, the lecture was great. Prof. Lejano is one of the authors of our textbooks, and I really thought what he was talking about. But anyhow, he really reminded me of why I chose to get into public policy.
He asked: Who knows what the number one cause for child mortality in the world?
People had many different answers, but I knew what it was: diarrhea. The disease that can get cured with simple medicine along with clean water and decent nutrition that doesn’t have to be a 5-course meal at a fancy restaurant.
Diarrhea is really painful (oh, don’t I know after this summer in Ghana…), even to a fully grown adult, and the degree of suffering for this simple sickness is probably a thousand times worse for children.
And here’s some more to think about. According to Newsweek (Jul.27th 09):
* 1/6 of humanity: undernourished as a result of the financial crisis.
* 11% increase: in people who will go hungry in 2009 to 1.02 billion, a record high.
* 71%: the world’s extremely poor (who live on less than $1.25 a day) who depend upon farming for their livelihood.
* 60% of a poor consumer’s income that is spent buying staple foods.
* 24% higher food prices were by the end of 2008 than they were in 2006.
I copied down the information when I was in the library, so I don’t know if this makes sense to you, but you get the essence.
What I’m trying to say is that the degree of human suffering that I have witnessed whether it was in inner city Durham or Port-au-Prince, Haiti, really breaks my heart, and although I know there are a lot of theoretical learning experiences involved in public policy education, I know for fact that this will only make me stronger as a more effective policy maker who can really connect with people, not with a piece of paper that is separated from the reality of suffering. And that's where my anthropologist instinct will come in.
Anyhow, yeah, it was a tiring day, but really awesome. Some of my friends found that it was so weird that I was doing masters in public policy instead of Ph.D in Anthropology. Don’t’ worry, I still have the intention, but for now, I think I made the right choice ☺. Good night my kin, and I’ll write more when I can. Now, back to South East Asian politics and policy.
PS: I just found out that a little girl named Midlene, who was a darling when I visited Fondwa (Haiti) last year, was adopted to an awesome family. Please be happy for her, although you don’t know her ☺
back to life, woot!
Hi all,
I wrote this last night (sunday night), but I had some internet issues, so I’m uploading now.
---
I know I should be finishing up reading materials for my intro to public policy class, but I decided to write, because I'm the kind of kid who can't do one thing for more than half an hour. Also writing helps me stay in touch with myself AND my friends. How great is that :)? (and what a great excuse for slacking off...)
I had a great weekend, filled with fun parties and hang outs, thanks to all of my friends here :). Despite the week that had been pretty bleh, let's say, I had a blast over the weekend. Friday night was an independence celebration party for India and Pakistan. I tried my best to wear something green and orange, but unfortunately, I had no orange, so I was halfway there, dress-wise. And right before then, we were at this hello-goodbye dinner prepared by school, to send of some of the seniors who are going abroad for exchange or dual-degree programs. The food was great (free food, what can I say?) and open-mic was just priceless, especially Sarah’s amazing performance. I got to meet some of the exchange or dual-degree students who came to my school (I’ll keep referring it as LKY as Lee Kuan Yew Sch. of Pub Pol), from Germany, Switzerland, England, you name it. These are just amazing people with some of the most amazing experiences, and I do feel really honored to be here.
Anyhow, as I said earlier, the party was a blast. We all slowly headed to College Green, and all the decorations, flowers, music, food, really everything just blew my mind. You probably know that I was not such a big party-fan when I was in college, part of it because I thought it was gross and really not much going on other than binge drinking. But here, everyone got to know everyone better, really enjoying each other’s company, and I do feel grown up (well, these people are all at least in their mid-20s) among these people. You are exposed to wholesome culture and atmosphere, enjoy that food that are prepared with much love and care, appreciate the cultural differences/diversity, and have engaging conversations, not to mention dance without caring about anything but your own pure joy. Even without a drop of alcohol, you can socialize here. SURPRISE!!! Really, how do I deserve this awesome people and rich culture? And on Saturday night, the graduate school association (or something like that) organized a social/party at Sentosa, which is a beach that’s… eh… pretty cool, I suppose, although it’s pretty “constructed,” let’s say (I want to save a whole cultural comment on Singapore for later). There were a lot of LKY students, and again, I loved the atmosphere so much. Despite the fact that my phone broke (totally my fault; why was I even in the water with my purse!!!)
Growing up is a painful process, someone said, and it has had its moment in my life, I suppose. I’m still only a “freshman” in “real” life (not even that, since I’m still a student!), but it has generally treated me well and offered me with so much of… life. I know there’s a lot of studying to do, and I know that things don’t always go the way that I want it to, as I have painfully realized last week. But in the end, I think life is super awesome. You learn to bear with certain difficulties -whether it is the 45-minute commute that consists of waiting for the bus for 20 minutes every morning, a terrible heartbreak, homesick, not understanding differences, really whatever. And in the end, life has something to make you smile at the end of the day, like a pleasant conversation with a total stranger, a piece of chocolate (or a pint of ice cream), a good morning run, really anything.
Talking about growing up… have you all heard of this test called Myers-Briggs test (MBTI)? It’s basically a really detailed personality test that helps you find your strengths so that you can find professional directions in your life, and I think a lot of career centers have them for you. Anyhow, I took one in my public policy class during my first year in college (taught by one and only Tony Brown – Ahh, I miss him a lot; he inspired me to go for public policy!), and I was an INFJ, Introversion, intuition, Feeling, Judging. This was Spring 2006, let’s keep it in mind. So after 3 and half years, I happen to be on facebook one day, procrastinating. The newsfeeds (a.k.a. stalkerfeeds) tell me that one of my friends took this test on facebook quiz. Out of curiosity, I took it, obviously, and I turn out to be an ENFJ, Extroverted and etc. I was a bit struck by that since I have believed that I’m always introverted, no matter what other people say about me. It’s all about self-perception, right? Then now -after reading a little too much of social science theory stuff for my class tomorrow- ontologically and epistemologically, human beings are creatures of structure and agency, external influences and the internal identity construct. I am not just “me” but I am the result of different influences inside out. I continuously make myself depending on my environments and how I unite it with my internal energy and changes. Does it sound too zen and boring? But anyhow, despite my firm beliefs on who I am, I might not be such an inflexible being. Haven’t I continuously mentioned how I have become a different person gradually? It happened over 4 years while I was in high school, and 4 years in college. I did go through many many stages of changes and turbulences, and they all have become part of me. So after all, I may have to embrace my extroverted-self. By the way, there is no right or wrong, good or bad on one way or the other.
So it was another night of babbling about things… But please do know that I am embracing and loving myself as who I am, whatever stage of my life I might be going through. So should you ☺. Good bye my loved ones, and I promise that I will put up some photos sooner than later. For my next post, it will be probably on cultural commentary, but it really depends on my mood that day. I’m an F (feeling) after all :D. Oh shoot, I still have to read my assignments…
I wrote this last night (sunday night), but I had some internet issues, so I’m uploading now.
---
I know I should be finishing up reading materials for my intro to public policy class, but I decided to write, because I'm the kind of kid who can't do one thing for more than half an hour. Also writing helps me stay in touch with myself AND my friends. How great is that :)? (and what a great excuse for slacking off...)
I had a great weekend, filled with fun parties and hang outs, thanks to all of my friends here :). Despite the week that had been pretty bleh, let's say, I had a blast over the weekend. Friday night was an independence celebration party for India and Pakistan. I tried my best to wear something green and orange, but unfortunately, I had no orange, so I was halfway there, dress-wise. And right before then, we were at this hello-goodbye dinner prepared by school, to send of some of the seniors who are going abroad for exchange or dual-degree programs. The food was great (free food, what can I say?) and open-mic was just priceless, especially Sarah’s amazing performance. I got to meet some of the exchange or dual-degree students who came to my school (I’ll keep referring it as LKY as Lee Kuan Yew Sch. of Pub Pol), from Germany, Switzerland, England, you name it. These are just amazing people with some of the most amazing experiences, and I do feel really honored to be here.
Anyhow, as I said earlier, the party was a blast. We all slowly headed to College Green, and all the decorations, flowers, music, food, really everything just blew my mind. You probably know that I was not such a big party-fan when I was in college, part of it because I thought it was gross and really not much going on other than binge drinking. But here, everyone got to know everyone better, really enjoying each other’s company, and I do feel grown up (well, these people are all at least in their mid-20s) among these people. You are exposed to wholesome culture and atmosphere, enjoy that food that are prepared with much love and care, appreciate the cultural differences/diversity, and have engaging conversations, not to mention dance without caring about anything but your own pure joy. Even without a drop of alcohol, you can socialize here. SURPRISE!!! Really, how do I deserve this awesome people and rich culture? And on Saturday night, the graduate school association (or something like that) organized a social/party at Sentosa, which is a beach that’s… eh… pretty cool, I suppose, although it’s pretty “constructed,” let’s say (I want to save a whole cultural comment on Singapore for later). There were a lot of LKY students, and again, I loved the atmosphere so much. Despite the fact that my phone broke (totally my fault; why was I even in the water with my purse!!!)
Growing up is a painful process, someone said, and it has had its moment in my life, I suppose. I’m still only a “freshman” in “real” life (not even that, since I’m still a student!), but it has generally treated me well and offered me with so much of… life. I know there’s a lot of studying to do, and I know that things don’t always go the way that I want it to, as I have painfully realized last week. But in the end, I think life is super awesome. You learn to bear with certain difficulties -whether it is the 45-minute commute that consists of waiting for the bus for 20 minutes every morning, a terrible heartbreak, homesick, not understanding differences, really whatever. And in the end, life has something to make you smile at the end of the day, like a pleasant conversation with a total stranger, a piece of chocolate (or a pint of ice cream), a good morning run, really anything.
Talking about growing up… have you all heard of this test called Myers-Briggs test (MBTI)? It’s basically a really detailed personality test that helps you find your strengths so that you can find professional directions in your life, and I think a lot of career centers have them for you. Anyhow, I took one in my public policy class during my first year in college (taught by one and only Tony Brown – Ahh, I miss him a lot; he inspired me to go for public policy!), and I was an INFJ, Introversion, intuition, Feeling, Judging. This was Spring 2006, let’s keep it in mind. So after 3 and half years, I happen to be on facebook one day, procrastinating. The newsfeeds (a.k.a. stalkerfeeds) tell me that one of my friends took this test on facebook quiz. Out of curiosity, I took it, obviously, and I turn out to be an ENFJ, Extroverted and etc. I was a bit struck by that since I have believed that I’m always introverted, no matter what other people say about me. It’s all about self-perception, right? Then now -after reading a little too much of social science theory stuff for my class tomorrow- ontologically and epistemologically, human beings are creatures of structure and agency, external influences and the internal identity construct. I am not just “me” but I am the result of different influences inside out. I continuously make myself depending on my environments and how I unite it with my internal energy and changes. Does it sound too zen and boring? But anyhow, despite my firm beliefs on who I am, I might not be such an inflexible being. Haven’t I continuously mentioned how I have become a different person gradually? It happened over 4 years while I was in high school, and 4 years in college. I did go through many many stages of changes and turbulences, and they all have become part of me. So after all, I may have to embrace my extroverted-self. By the way, there is no right or wrong, good or bad on one way or the other.
So it was another night of babbling about things… But please do know that I am embracing and loving myself as who I am, whatever stage of my life I might be going through. So should you ☺. Good bye my loved ones, and I promise that I will put up some photos sooner than later. For my next post, it will be probably on cultural commentary, but it really depends on my mood that day. I’m an F (feeling) after all :D. Oh shoot, I still have to read my assignments…
Thursday, August 13, 2009
sleepless in singapore
Long time no talk/see/hear/write my friends,
A few of you may know, but my laptop charger had broke, so I had to give it to Apple service center, and I finally got it back today. Huge thanks to Apple global warranty, I got this hundred and something dollar charger for free. I highly recommend everyone to get your laptop with warranty :).
Anyhow... today is Wednesday already, and it has been exactly a month since I came to this country. I've written so much about how I love this place and all, but phew... the recent couple of days have been pretty tough for me. Don't get me wrong, I still love living here, and I won't give it up for anything. But strangely, the usual feelings I get whenever I move to a new place -feeling overwhelmed, lonely, stressed, etc.- are hitting me on my one month mark in this country. It's just so strange. I guess, during the orientation period, I was always excited and busy with meeting new people and the adrenaline rush really overwhelms the fear. I do love my new friends, (most of) the materials that I study (you know I'm a nerd, and leave me alone), the friendly and safe environment of the country, and the fact that I'm living in a city, but I just started to feel a big hole in my life.
I have become a person who is pretty vocal and giving, especially over the recent 4-5 years. I’m really not that afraid to speak up and com/passionate about the causes that I firmly believe in, like women’s rights/feminist issues, race issues, minority education etc… While connecting with people these ways, my personality became pretty outgoing as opposed to being shy and quiet. And here, I’m that bubbly “American” girl with a southern twist (as a little bit of Southern belle “charm”), as funny as it sounds. I try hard to be friendly, kind and social, coping with all of my personalities. Maybe it’s just that I chose (consciously and unconsciously) to re/present myself that way, and this “trying hard” thing is really hard. By no means I’m fake. I do mean everything and love socializing and hobnobbing, but I always feel some pressure to actively seek to form my own communities and circles, because I am only a human being who can’t just live with Wilson the volleyball. And being an over achiever and a world-floater I am, I tend to go for extra miles. Am I just stuck in the high school mentality that I have to be the sweetest and chatty girl in school? I certainly don’t believe so (and oh, trust me, I never was like that when I was in high school), but why is it that the more people I get to meet, the more I feel lonely? Why is it that the after a month of joy, there’s a sudden attack of tears all the sudden while sitting in a lecture class? (Seriously, it happened last night when I was in my statistics class, as absurd as it sounds.)
So, just to cope with this, I went to my friend Will’s house at College Green to borrow a movie, as chickflicks tend to cure it all (brainless and simple when I’m not thinking about feminist and race theories that can be applied to them). It’s a nice dorm-style area where most of my classmates live near Uni. And while I was sitting there, I started to talk to Mirza, and I started to cry. I mean I cried like a baby (but probably louder and uglier), and I swear, I haven’t done that in a long, long time. And it was the first time that I cried in Singapore. I think something in me was just holding it down, almost repressing it, because I always tell myself that I have to be a strong girl. I’m not trying to be all heroic and stuff about my life, but usually, when I cry, I’m more of a face into my pillow kinda person. And, in Asian culture (or just in my family culture, maybe), expressing emotions, especially “negative” ones like sadness and anger, is pretty taboo, because that means that you’re weak. You do it on your own time. And growing up with that mentality my entire life, although I’m a bi-cultural product of American and Korean culture, I always have had a hard time expressing my intimate feelings. Hmm… am I just emotionally handicapped? But anyhow… Mirza was being such a sweet friend, and he just let me cry there, and tried to help me get it out. But I honestly didn’t know what it was that really made me burst into tears while sitting in the middle of my friends living room, flipping through movies (well, there may have been a few personal reasons that I didn’t want to talk about and don’t wish to discuss now, either). I think I probably freaked out/scared his housemates Siyang and Fabi (who are my dear classmates as well and really awesome), but after a piece of Toblerone (my beloved dark chocolate kind!) and several spoonful of Ben and Jerry’s (I swear they are my favorite men in the world, as Bridget Jones would agree), I sat there, all embarrassed. (And yes, I’m writing about it so that everybody in the world knows…)
But good thing about having friends with developing friendship, really, is that they will be there, willing to listen to you and talk through. I think I sorta went on talking, probably about everything in my life, and how I feel like things are falling apart and I was alone in a battlefield. But this feeling of “insecurity” has some sort of magic that really gets everyone, even the ones that seem the most confident. I’m probably not the only one who was stressed about this whole “new life” thing, and I’m probably not the only one who feels a little out of place. So there goes the famous Duke expression, “effortless perfection” which is only an imaginary concept that makes us all like these non-human particles of the world. I refuse to embrace it, but oops, I did it again (seriously, what’s wrong with me tonight with all the pop-culture references?). But the reality is that, we are only human, and we all are, often, insecure and vulnerable while we don’t publicize it. Friends, don’t try to deny that. Anyhow, we just sat there, chatting, and it was nice and comforting. Who needs a therapist while Mirza’s around, right ☺? And as I headed back, well after 11pm, I ran into Will, and at the bus stop, we were just chatting about this random emotional breakdown (and other random stuff as well) that I couldn’t really understand.
What I’m trying to say is that, I’m doing fine, but I’m just having a “human” time. I can’t always a happy, cheerful “Ann of Greengables” type of person who can overcome any kind of difficulties. I’m definitely feeling much better (after watching a silly movie, _Hitch_) now, but I’m just letting you all know one thing: I’m only a human being, and without all the human connections and webs, I would be nothing at all.
And as usual, I miss you, love you and am thinking of you. And happy one-month anniversary of me and Singapore! (Seriously, who needs a man when you are in love with a city, as Sarah who’s in love with Manhattan said!) Farewell!
A few of you may know, but my laptop charger had broke, so I had to give it to Apple service center, and I finally got it back today. Huge thanks to Apple global warranty, I got this hundred and something dollar charger for free. I highly recommend everyone to get your laptop with warranty :).
Anyhow... today is Wednesday already, and it has been exactly a month since I came to this country. I've written so much about how I love this place and all, but phew... the recent couple of days have been pretty tough for me. Don't get me wrong, I still love living here, and I won't give it up for anything. But strangely, the usual feelings I get whenever I move to a new place -feeling overwhelmed, lonely, stressed, etc.- are hitting me on my one month mark in this country. It's just so strange. I guess, during the orientation period, I was always excited and busy with meeting new people and the adrenaline rush really overwhelms the fear. I do love my new friends, (most of) the materials that I study (you know I'm a nerd, and leave me alone), the friendly and safe environment of the country, and the fact that I'm living in a city, but I just started to feel a big hole in my life.
I have become a person who is pretty vocal and giving, especially over the recent 4-5 years. I’m really not that afraid to speak up and com/passionate about the causes that I firmly believe in, like women’s rights/feminist issues, race issues, minority education etc… While connecting with people these ways, my personality became pretty outgoing as opposed to being shy and quiet. And here, I’m that bubbly “American” girl with a southern twist (as a little bit of Southern belle “charm”), as funny as it sounds. I try hard to be friendly, kind and social, coping with all of my personalities. Maybe it’s just that I chose (consciously and unconsciously) to re/present myself that way, and this “trying hard” thing is really hard. By no means I’m fake. I do mean everything and love socializing and hobnobbing, but I always feel some pressure to actively seek to form my own communities and circles, because I am only a human being who can’t just live with Wilson the volleyball. And being an over achiever and a world-floater I am, I tend to go for extra miles. Am I just stuck in the high school mentality that I have to be the sweetest and chatty girl in school? I certainly don’t believe so (and oh, trust me, I never was like that when I was in high school), but why is it that the more people I get to meet, the more I feel lonely? Why is it that the after a month of joy, there’s a sudden attack of tears all the sudden while sitting in a lecture class? (Seriously, it happened last night when I was in my statistics class, as absurd as it sounds.)
So, just to cope with this, I went to my friend Will’s house at College Green to borrow a movie, as chickflicks tend to cure it all (brainless and simple when I’m not thinking about feminist and race theories that can be applied to them). It’s a nice dorm-style area where most of my classmates live near Uni. And while I was sitting there, I started to talk to Mirza, and I started to cry. I mean I cried like a baby (but probably louder and uglier), and I swear, I haven’t done that in a long, long time. And it was the first time that I cried in Singapore. I think something in me was just holding it down, almost repressing it, because I always tell myself that I have to be a strong girl. I’m not trying to be all heroic and stuff about my life, but usually, when I cry, I’m more of a face into my pillow kinda person. And, in Asian culture (or just in my family culture, maybe), expressing emotions, especially “negative” ones like sadness and anger, is pretty taboo, because that means that you’re weak. You do it on your own time. And growing up with that mentality my entire life, although I’m a bi-cultural product of American and Korean culture, I always have had a hard time expressing my intimate feelings. Hmm… am I just emotionally handicapped? But anyhow… Mirza was being such a sweet friend, and he just let me cry there, and tried to help me get it out. But I honestly didn’t know what it was that really made me burst into tears while sitting in the middle of my friends living room, flipping through movies (well, there may have been a few personal reasons that I didn’t want to talk about and don’t wish to discuss now, either). I think I probably freaked out/scared his housemates Siyang and Fabi (who are my dear classmates as well and really awesome), but after a piece of Toblerone (my beloved dark chocolate kind!) and several spoonful of Ben and Jerry’s (I swear they are my favorite men in the world, as Bridget Jones would agree), I sat there, all embarrassed. (And yes, I’m writing about it so that everybody in the world knows…)
But good thing about having friends with developing friendship, really, is that they will be there, willing to listen to you and talk through. I think I sorta went on talking, probably about everything in my life, and how I feel like things are falling apart and I was alone in a battlefield. But this feeling of “insecurity” has some sort of magic that really gets everyone, even the ones that seem the most confident. I’m probably not the only one who was stressed about this whole “new life” thing, and I’m probably not the only one who feels a little out of place. So there goes the famous Duke expression, “effortless perfection” which is only an imaginary concept that makes us all like these non-human particles of the world. I refuse to embrace it, but oops, I did it again (seriously, what’s wrong with me tonight with all the pop-culture references?). But the reality is that, we are only human, and we all are, often, insecure and vulnerable while we don’t publicize it. Friends, don’t try to deny that. Anyhow, we just sat there, chatting, and it was nice and comforting. Who needs a therapist while Mirza’s around, right ☺? And as I headed back, well after 11pm, I ran into Will, and at the bus stop, we were just chatting about this random emotional breakdown (and other random stuff as well) that I couldn’t really understand.
What I’m trying to say is that, I’m doing fine, but I’m just having a “human” time. I can’t always a happy, cheerful “Ann of Greengables” type of person who can overcome any kind of difficulties. I’m definitely feeling much better (after watching a silly movie, _Hitch_) now, but I’m just letting you all know one thing: I’m only a human being, and without all the human connections and webs, I would be nothing at all.
And as usual, I miss you, love you and am thinking of you. And happy one-month anniversary of me and Singapore! (Seriously, who needs a man when you are in love with a city, as Sarah who’s in love with Manhattan said!) Farewell!
Monday, August 3, 2009
I have a huge crush on...
So here we go. I’ve been in Singapore for about… eh… let me check my calendar for a sec. OK, for about 3 weeks. But seriously, can I feel more home than this? I have a huge “crush” on this city/country. I have never felt so alive, so happy and so grateful in my life.
I think it’s most about the people that I’m surrounded by. I’ve already told you about what a city girl I am in the previous entry. But it’s just one of those elements that makes my life with the people here better. What I mean is that being in a city would not be as much of a big deal if there weren’t these diverse people that I have gotten to know for the past several weeks. I seriously am in love with all the people in my class. There are 90-some people from so many different academic and professional backgrounds, nationalities, cultures, religions and age. I have never encountered such diversity (although more than half of them are Singaporean, Chinese and Indian students) in my life, and my anthropologist-self always gets excited about this and appreciates it everyday.
Oh, talking about anthropology and appreciation… I have a new ritual every morning. On the way to the bus stop from my apartment, there’s a little shrine that seems to be Buddhist. It’s right next to the renovating apartment building, and elderly men hangout there playing majong and what not. Everytime I pass there, I give a short one-sentence prayer, asking for a good day and safety in the morning and thanking for a good day in the evening. I know this sounds really odd, but I think I really need to express my thankfulness to someone, because I am being well taken care of by this mysterious force that I can’t quite understand.
One of the things that I appreciate (everyday in front of the shrine) is the humbling experience through learning from the classmates. Since it’s been only orientation period, we haven’t learned much about public policy yet. But as many people have said (including John, a senior, and Gen, our academic advisor), we will learn more from our classmates than in the classroom and I feel that I already have learned so much. I’d been surrounded by people of age between 18 and 22 while I was in college. I was always the old, mature, “wise” one, especially when it came down to my role as a resident assistant (some people called me “mom”). But here at LKY, the age range is anywhere between 20 and 60, and many people have so much to share based on their backgrounds. I am one of the “babies” which I’m actually not very used to. Again, being a mom for 3 years for 18 year olds really shaped my identity, haha ☺. Anyhow, compared to so many of these people who have been everywhere in the world and speaking so many different languages, I often feel really small. I mean, what do I know as a fresh graduate (who is not even old enough to go on to one of the dual-degree programs!) as opposed to this man who has had his own business for decades or this woman who have been practicing law? The only advantage of mine would be the fact that I am used to be an academic and therefore I’m pretty malleable in terms of learning. I am not intimidated (well, my personality wouldn’t allow that), but there’s more of awe and amazement in this environment. It’s so incredible to think about what a hybrid of different cultures and thoughts I would be once I finish my program.
And about being a hybrid… I came to a realization how much I do not want to go back to the U.S. I think I am passing through this phase where I am so happy that I don’t want to emotionally suffer again. I have told several people… but I repeat. I don’t EVER want to go back, period. Well, at least for now. Throughout the 8 years of my life, I have truly enjoy the education (at school and through living there), but for some reason, nowadays, it terrifies me to think about being alone again and establishing a life in the part of the world that doesn’t seem to want me. I hated waking up in the morning, realizing that it’s just the annoying alarm clock waking me up instead of my mom. I hated the sudden feeling of loneliness that attacked me randomly and made me cry so much throughout my high school years. I hated trying so hard to have perfect American English so that I wouldn’t be made fun of (and so that I would not be called “cute” for my non-American accent). I hated all the pressure to get into the best college and be the best amongst the best.
The stifling reality is that, despite these facts, I have most of my loved ones in the U.S., and my college years were more than great. I do miss my best friends that I could talk for hours about anything. I miss anthropology classes at Duke. I miss the 3rd graders who wanted me to teach them for one more summer. What a mismatch of a place (or the concept of place), feelings and people… OR did this rambling make sense at all? See, people here think I’m pretty “American” (according to Sarah, I’m “100% American”), but I was always a foreigner in the States, and I always will be.
I guess my feeling of love and hate are both so strong towards the country and culture that really shaped me. What a messy situation, eh? I’m sure this weird emotional phase will probably pass soon, but I am definitely in a transition.
Alright, I think I’m gonna go back to reading more NYT articles and op-eds. By the way, I got internet at home now. Yippieeeee!!! And it definitely helps me reconnect with people. So… Skype date anyone?!? The time difference between the States and here is 12 hours, by the way. Love you all!
I think it’s most about the people that I’m surrounded by. I’ve already told you about what a city girl I am in the previous entry. But it’s just one of those elements that makes my life with the people here better. What I mean is that being in a city would not be as much of a big deal if there weren’t these diverse people that I have gotten to know for the past several weeks. I seriously am in love with all the people in my class. There are 90-some people from so many different academic and professional backgrounds, nationalities, cultures, religions and age. I have never encountered such diversity (although more than half of them are Singaporean, Chinese and Indian students) in my life, and my anthropologist-self always gets excited about this and appreciates it everyday.
Oh, talking about anthropology and appreciation… I have a new ritual every morning. On the way to the bus stop from my apartment, there’s a little shrine that seems to be Buddhist. It’s right next to the renovating apartment building, and elderly men hangout there playing majong and what not. Everytime I pass there, I give a short one-sentence prayer, asking for a good day and safety in the morning and thanking for a good day in the evening. I know this sounds really odd, but I think I really need to express my thankfulness to someone, because I am being well taken care of by this mysterious force that I can’t quite understand.
One of the things that I appreciate (everyday in front of the shrine) is the humbling experience through learning from the classmates. Since it’s been only orientation period, we haven’t learned much about public policy yet. But as many people have said (including John, a senior, and Gen, our academic advisor), we will learn more from our classmates than in the classroom and I feel that I already have learned so much. I’d been surrounded by people of age between 18 and 22 while I was in college. I was always the old, mature, “wise” one, especially when it came down to my role as a resident assistant (some people called me “mom”). But here at LKY, the age range is anywhere between 20 and 60, and many people have so much to share based on their backgrounds. I am one of the “babies” which I’m actually not very used to. Again, being a mom for 3 years for 18 year olds really shaped my identity, haha ☺. Anyhow, compared to so many of these people who have been everywhere in the world and speaking so many different languages, I often feel really small. I mean, what do I know as a fresh graduate (who is not even old enough to go on to one of the dual-degree programs!) as opposed to this man who has had his own business for decades or this woman who have been practicing law? The only advantage of mine would be the fact that I am used to be an academic and therefore I’m pretty malleable in terms of learning. I am not intimidated (well, my personality wouldn’t allow that), but there’s more of awe and amazement in this environment. It’s so incredible to think about what a hybrid of different cultures and thoughts I would be once I finish my program.
And about being a hybrid… I came to a realization how much I do not want to go back to the U.S. I think I am passing through this phase where I am so happy that I don’t want to emotionally suffer again. I have told several people… but I repeat. I don’t EVER want to go back, period. Well, at least for now. Throughout the 8 years of my life, I have truly enjoy the education (at school and through living there), but for some reason, nowadays, it terrifies me to think about being alone again and establishing a life in the part of the world that doesn’t seem to want me. I hated waking up in the morning, realizing that it’s just the annoying alarm clock waking me up instead of my mom. I hated the sudden feeling of loneliness that attacked me randomly and made me cry so much throughout my high school years. I hated trying so hard to have perfect American English so that I wouldn’t be made fun of (and so that I would not be called “cute” for my non-American accent). I hated all the pressure to get into the best college and be the best amongst the best.
The stifling reality is that, despite these facts, I have most of my loved ones in the U.S., and my college years were more than great. I do miss my best friends that I could talk for hours about anything. I miss anthropology classes at Duke. I miss the 3rd graders who wanted me to teach them for one more summer. What a mismatch of a place (or the concept of place), feelings and people… OR did this rambling make sense at all? See, people here think I’m pretty “American” (according to Sarah, I’m “100% American”), but I was always a foreigner in the States, and I always will be.
I guess my feeling of love and hate are both so strong towards the country and culture that really shaped me. What a messy situation, eh? I’m sure this weird emotional phase will probably pass soon, but I am definitely in a transition.
Alright, I think I’m gonna go back to reading more NYT articles and op-eds. By the way, I got internet at home now. Yippieeeee!!! And it definitely helps me reconnect with people. So… Skype date anyone?!? The time difference between the States and here is 12 hours, by the way. Love you all!
Sunday, August 2, 2009
Life in Singapore- a little late, I know
Hi everyone,
So when I was in Ghana during the summer (oh, how I miss it, really!!! I talk about it all the time), I sent out emails once or twice a week to a huge number of people. It was a way for me to connect with my loved ones, my friends. My friends have been my family, my shelter, and my biggest supporters in my life's journey and difficult times, and that was least I could do, I suppose. Anyhow, after the last Email from the country, complaining about the awful diarrhea that I was suffering (if you're grossed out by my straightforward words, by the way, stop reading it :p), I sent out a couple more emails (perhaps only one, can't remember...) promising that I will have a blog to update my globe hoppings, life philosophies, feminism, anthropology, reading and learning experiences, etc. etc. Haha, I guess it's basically about everything about my life.
Anyhow, as the first post, I will just copy-and-paste the mass email that I sent out to people. Hope you don’t think I’m cheating. Love you all, and miss you all, wherever you are.
---
So I guess it’s the first time that I’m actually writing to let everyone know that I’m still alive and well in a new country. Yes, I’m here in Singapore, lazily sitting on my King size bed. Yes, that’s right- my real estate agent (Ben, really helpful guy!) put the two single beds together so that I can enjoy the huge bed, although I can never get used to it and I’m still using only half of the bed. I am finally moved in my new apartment in Toa Payoh area, which is supposed to be a pretty hip place to live (and therefore, a bit expensive).
I’m liking my life in Singapore so far. I wasn’t giving much of a thought of living in yet another country (4th country this year!) until the day before I left when I had a slight panic attack and frantically trying to fulfill the 20kg luggage weight requirement (Can you BELIEVE this considering how much clothes and shoes I have?). I guess I always had this feeling or thought that I will be in Singapore temporarily, and I’m BOUND to go back to the US, my “home sweet home.” I practically grew up there for 8 years of my life (out of 23, that is), and it (the country, the culture, the people, everything) made me the person who I am right now. I have all my friends there, and I really have become Americanized. But then, I came to think about my motivation of coming to Singapore. Was it just for a temporary stay? Was it just to avoid the uncomfortable feelings of being in non-Western country (probably, Korea, more or less)?
As I think about it, I made the decision based on the little knowledge that I had about Singapore. It is a country that used to be a British colony, so it has a lot of Western elements in the culture. This tiny country has emerged as the economic powerhouse of Asia throughout the post-colonial era. But my personal motivation has little to do with this idealized concept about the country. Deep down, I wanted to be closer to home (Korea), but not at home. I had such a fear about going back to Korea after graduation, although it probably wouldn’t have been so hard to get a decent job, considering the level of English skill I have. The fear comes from the simple (and complicated!) fact that I’m Korean, but I’m really not Korean. The ways I think, talk and act are pretty American, I feel. I’ve often felt pretty uneasy about “being home,” although it’s pretty nice to be with my family and all, for a limited time of a month, anyways. My Korean-self, which has pretty much stopped developing since I left the country when I was 15, comes back to me as a timid, quiet, fearful girl, defeating my confidant American self, which never lets anyone judge me unfairly (My personality transformation has been pretty radical. A lot of my friends in America would say, “You? Quiet and timid? Give me a break!” knowing the kinda gal I am right now). But at the same time, I was never American. Disregarding the citizenship status (I’m a proud citizen of Republic of Korea), I was always marked as “that Korean girl” who happens to think, talk and act like American. I wanted to belong to everywhere, but never belonged to anywhere, and it is such a stifling, lonely place to be. I simply could not learn who I was in either of the places which are polar opposites in my developmental stages, if this makes any sense.
So here it is, I found a new place that seemed to be a sort of happy medium, and so far, it is a perfect place for me, thank goodness! Despite my initial fear, I found this place to be so comfortable. Other than the fact that I finally get to sleep in my own bed after 3 months of being up in the air, I do find this whole country (well… city as well) to be my new home, after staying here for less than a week. The kind of cultures and people that I’m exposed to are quite amazing here. A little more than 50% of Singaporeans are of Chinese heritage, and the other half is Indian, other South Asians, Europeans, Americans, etc, etc. I was struck by the huge diversity, which was unexpected. I’m often mistaken for a Chinese person (East Asian who’s pretty tanned; I mean, after being in Ghana for almost 2 months, this came sort of natural, and I can’t really blame people here, can I?), but I definitely like the fact that I don’t get “marked” by strangers that often. I can be proud of both of my “heritages.” I have American accent and attitudes. I wear clothes like Americans (wear backpacks everywhere with my Teva flipflops while the fashionable Singaporean women wear large purses, makeup and high heels) and think like one. But at the same time, I can also be proud of my Koreanness while I can share the love of Korean food and hear Korean pop music in shops and bars pretty often. This, without any hesitance or shame, unlike in America. Let me make this clear that I have never been ashamed by my Korean heritage, but it is not something that you can “show off” like you can here in Singapore. Singaporeans understand Korean cultural context so much better than Americans do, and while Singaporeans know what “Korean dramas” are or who “Wonder Girls” are, Americans don’t know without extensive explanations and without the effort to get to know the different culture. Because I refused to be exoticized, I chose not to perform much of my Koreanness in public, if this makes any sense.
Another good thing about Singapore… I’ve been a small town girl all my life, and the vibrant city atmosphere is quite amazing to me, despite the cost. Even then, the living cost here is not that bad, especially compared to NYC, which I love as well, but the living cost really kills me there. I can have a nice Southeast Asian style coffee for mere 60 Singaporean cents (about 45-50 cents in American dollars, yo!). I can enjoy a meal for 3-5 dollars usually, unless I go all out. I know I have to be thrifty and all (and I am), but I definitely feel less pressure financially.
I have been in the economics review sessions since Wednesday, and I ran into so many amazing people. I think I want to stop here just to give you all (and myself, of course) a break, but as much as econ really stinks, I’m enjoying and loving the people that I met at school. On that note… I miss you and love you all, my kin of the world.
So when I was in Ghana during the summer (oh, how I miss it, really!!! I talk about it all the time), I sent out emails once or twice a week to a huge number of people. It was a way for me to connect with my loved ones, my friends. My friends have been my family, my shelter, and my biggest supporters in my life's journey and difficult times, and that was least I could do, I suppose. Anyhow, after the last Email from the country, complaining about the awful diarrhea that I was suffering (if you're grossed out by my straightforward words, by the way, stop reading it :p), I sent out a couple more emails (perhaps only one, can't remember...) promising that I will have a blog to update my globe hoppings, life philosophies, feminism, anthropology, reading and learning experiences, etc. etc. Haha, I guess it's basically about everything about my life.
Anyhow, as the first post, I will just copy-and-paste the mass email that I sent out to people. Hope you don’t think I’m cheating. Love you all, and miss you all, wherever you are.
---
So I guess it’s the first time that I’m actually writing to let everyone know that I’m still alive and well in a new country. Yes, I’m here in Singapore, lazily sitting on my King size bed. Yes, that’s right- my real estate agent (Ben, really helpful guy!) put the two single beds together so that I can enjoy the huge bed, although I can never get used to it and I’m still using only half of the bed. I am finally moved in my new apartment in Toa Payoh area, which is supposed to be a pretty hip place to live (and therefore, a bit expensive).
I’m liking my life in Singapore so far. I wasn’t giving much of a thought of living in yet another country (4th country this year!) until the day before I left when I had a slight panic attack and frantically trying to fulfill the 20kg luggage weight requirement (Can you BELIEVE this considering how much clothes and shoes I have?). I guess I always had this feeling or thought that I will be in Singapore temporarily, and I’m BOUND to go back to the US, my “home sweet home.” I practically grew up there for 8 years of my life (out of 23, that is), and it (the country, the culture, the people, everything) made me the person who I am right now. I have all my friends there, and I really have become Americanized. But then, I came to think about my motivation of coming to Singapore. Was it just for a temporary stay? Was it just to avoid the uncomfortable feelings of being in non-Western country (probably, Korea, more or less)?
As I think about it, I made the decision based on the little knowledge that I had about Singapore. It is a country that used to be a British colony, so it has a lot of Western elements in the culture. This tiny country has emerged as the economic powerhouse of Asia throughout the post-colonial era. But my personal motivation has little to do with this idealized concept about the country. Deep down, I wanted to be closer to home (Korea), but not at home. I had such a fear about going back to Korea after graduation, although it probably wouldn’t have been so hard to get a decent job, considering the level of English skill I have. The fear comes from the simple (and complicated!) fact that I’m Korean, but I’m really not Korean. The ways I think, talk and act are pretty American, I feel. I’ve often felt pretty uneasy about “being home,” although it’s pretty nice to be with my family and all, for a limited time of a month, anyways. My Korean-self, which has pretty much stopped developing since I left the country when I was 15, comes back to me as a timid, quiet, fearful girl, defeating my confidant American self, which never lets anyone judge me unfairly (My personality transformation has been pretty radical. A lot of my friends in America would say, “You? Quiet and timid? Give me a break!” knowing the kinda gal I am right now). But at the same time, I was never American. Disregarding the citizenship status (I’m a proud citizen of Republic of Korea), I was always marked as “that Korean girl” who happens to think, talk and act like American. I wanted to belong to everywhere, but never belonged to anywhere, and it is such a stifling, lonely place to be. I simply could not learn who I was in either of the places which are polar opposites in my developmental stages, if this makes any sense.
So here it is, I found a new place that seemed to be a sort of happy medium, and so far, it is a perfect place for me, thank goodness! Despite my initial fear, I found this place to be so comfortable. Other than the fact that I finally get to sleep in my own bed after 3 months of being up in the air, I do find this whole country (well… city as well) to be my new home, after staying here for less than a week. The kind of cultures and people that I’m exposed to are quite amazing here. A little more than 50% of Singaporeans are of Chinese heritage, and the other half is Indian, other South Asians, Europeans, Americans, etc, etc. I was struck by the huge diversity, which was unexpected. I’m often mistaken for a Chinese person (East Asian who’s pretty tanned; I mean, after being in Ghana for almost 2 months, this came sort of natural, and I can’t really blame people here, can I?), but I definitely like the fact that I don’t get “marked” by strangers that often. I can be proud of both of my “heritages.” I have American accent and attitudes. I wear clothes like Americans (wear backpacks everywhere with my Teva flipflops while the fashionable Singaporean women wear large purses, makeup and high heels) and think like one. But at the same time, I can also be proud of my Koreanness while I can share the love of Korean food and hear Korean pop music in shops and bars pretty often. This, without any hesitance or shame, unlike in America. Let me make this clear that I have never been ashamed by my Korean heritage, but it is not something that you can “show off” like you can here in Singapore. Singaporeans understand Korean cultural context so much better than Americans do, and while Singaporeans know what “Korean dramas” are or who “Wonder Girls” are, Americans don’t know without extensive explanations and without the effort to get to know the different culture. Because I refused to be exoticized, I chose not to perform much of my Koreanness in public, if this makes any sense.
Another good thing about Singapore… I’ve been a small town girl all my life, and the vibrant city atmosphere is quite amazing to me, despite the cost. Even then, the living cost here is not that bad, especially compared to NYC, which I love as well, but the living cost really kills me there. I can have a nice Southeast Asian style coffee for mere 60 Singaporean cents (about 45-50 cents in American dollars, yo!). I can enjoy a meal for 3-5 dollars usually, unless I go all out. I know I have to be thrifty and all (and I am), but I definitely feel less pressure financially.
I have been in the economics review sessions since Wednesday, and I ran into so many amazing people. I think I want to stop here just to give you all (and myself, of course) a break, but as much as econ really stinks, I’m enjoying and loving the people that I met at school. On that note… I miss you and love you all, my kin of the world.
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