I swear life runs in some kind of crazy enigmatic cycle, I really do. You get in this rut where loads of rubbish is just raining down on you; if you’re lucky it’s mostly just banana peels and a few half-eaten Twinkies but once maggots and dead kittens work their way into the mix, you know you’re in trouble. Through a wider lens, the past few weeks haven’t been terrible really (yes, I do realize that I should not be one to complain about anything at this point) but there have been a lot of frustrations in my life lately what with making new friends and my knack for losing important things at pertinent times and even having misplaced a friend for a very high-intensity twelve hours. But, all I know is my small little world of insignificant climaxes and resolutions, so I fear that that is all I can really offer here. Anyway, despite however long these free falls last, things always turn, always, and this week has been nothing but blessings, it really has.
After I somehow managed to get all my papers turned in on time (which, between some epic procrastination and incessant computer troubles, was a miracle in itself), I rewarded myself with a night out. Dr. Leve’s friend managed to get a few of us ‘B Row’ tickets to see a major production of The Full Monty at about an 80% discount, which was amazing, amazing, amazing! I love musicals, love them, and to be able to see a professional production with performers I had actually heard of before was a big check on my bucket list. By the end of the play, I was alternating between obnoxiously belly-laughing and literally listening to my heart race in my temples; I can’t believe I was so excited over a little show but there you have it. Plus we saw Andy Hockley in the subway the next night, which was awesome. He played Dave in the play and reminded me so much of my Dad, I would’ve given him the part in my autobiographical play (I’ve always fancied myself being portrayed by Arnold Swartzenager, if you were wondering). If you know the synopsis of The Full Monty and not my father the connection might be creepy, but if you've seen it as well as spent significant time with Dad, I think the association is significantly less weird, haha.
Then came our volunteer weekend. Yes, yes signal the stereotypical tugging-of-the-heartstrings, but it really was a pretty moving experience. Saturday I spent the day along with about ten of my friends and classmates volunteering at the Jamiyah Nursing Home. Not that I ever dreaded the trip really, but I definitely came mentally prepared to deal with a quiet, even depressing atmosphere, not to mention the assumedly universal ‘nursing home smell.’ Imagine my surprise when we rolled up at a brightly-colored, open-air building with a little garden on either end and big fish tanks scattered here and there. We spent most of the day helping serve meals and cleaning up afterward, the mess being mostly ours anyway. Mr. Singh, the administrative fellow who was kind of showing us the ropes, had me go aside to feed one handicapped man his lunch, something unlike like anything else I had ever done. His nervous system was all to bits, hence the whole not being able to feed himself, plus he was Malay and didn’t really speak English, so when they brought me to a corner with the fellow, handed me a spoon and bowl of orange stuff, and left, I was a bit lost. We were alone and I wanted to communicate with him somehow but the only thing I could think of was singing, so that’s what I did. I felt a bit weird at first but he started smiling and I never thought of it again, just carried on with whatever I could remember the words to. It’s a pretty goofy scene to think of now I guess, but I never realized what an intimate action something like that could be. Just an overall really humbling experience. After lunch we played games with the those who were in wheelchairs, bowling and throwing balls and doing all sorts of weird stretching and yelling activities. Smiles were infectious and I, at least, felt like we brought a bit of energy and joy to a typically understaffed and overworked facility. Not that the patients seemed uncared for or unhappy, in fact Mr. Singh seemed to be one of the most passionate people I have ever met, but I think everyone involved went to bed that night a little bit refreshed about life in general. I hope I can have as much fun as those gents and ladies when I’m eighty.
I can’t leave out our adventures after we left our new friends alone for the evening. About five of us headed over to Huiqian’s church to play Captain’s Ball, which is basically Ultimate with a ball instead of a Frisbee and a ‘catcher’ on a raised box and ‘guard’ in front of him or her in place of an end zone. We hit it off really well with all the other kids from her church and plan to make it our regular Saturday haunt for the next month!
Shelby beasting Jocelyn and Ryan at Captain's Ball (he was on my team, naturally c;). Huiqin's church used to be the National Mint so it was a pretty impressive building. We were essentially playing ball in the sky, as the court was on top of the building. Made for an awesome view of the sunset.
Today was the much-awaited trip to the Jamiyah Children’s Home for the whole SEAS group. We spent the whole day playing with kids and learning and teaching and eating and eating and eating! I ended up grouping off with a few elementary- and middle school-aged kids for a good portion of the time. I taught them how to play ‘Down By the River’ and do ‘magic tricks’ (ha), and they taught me how to legitimately play the kompang, a Malay drum, and how to fix my hair the ‘right’ way (my herringbone braid was apparently a major fashion no-no), and so many little school yard games all the kids grow up with. The children there didn’t have great histories; most had parents in jail or rehab and there were a few orphans and abandonment cases, but the whole place had ambiance of family which was comforting in a lot of ways. I was really impressed with the manners the children had, and the respect they had for one another. They always offered to get things for others whenever they got up from the dinner table and made sure nobody was sitting alone. They were also really quick to hark on one another’s talents rather than their own, deflecting compliments by saying my sister or brother so-and-so ‘is much better.’ I like their Pokemon sheets too.
I don’t really know how much ‘help’ we were to either place, but if we did nothing more than serve as entertainment for the day, that's fine by me after all the wonderful things they contributed to our program’s experience. Mr. Singh from the nursing home kept saying, "Please, understand this. Take this with you." He was pretty forward about expressing his passion for his own flavor of what I took to be a universal love concept, and its pretty safe to say his approach caught us all off guard as I guess we're just pretty used to scholasticizing or watering personal things like that down. Still, I think I understood what he was saying. I'm not sure about everyone who volunteered, but I know I'm not alone in saying that the Jamiyah program touched me. As my dear friend Abby endearingly loves to sum things like this up: “Oh, Blessings.”
We weren't able to take pictures of the volunteer things because apparently certain individuals at either location couldn't be photographed for one reason or another. There were a few cameras circulating though that belonged to workers and they said they would be forwarding them along fairly soon so I'll post some up here when they do.
Oh, and if you were wondering about the title, I have found I really hate to name these things so this was the first thing that popped into my brain. I went grocery shopping at Cold Storage today (Singapore is still safe from Wal-Mart, for now) and jumped on a chance to buy some ‘Frosties’ and milk because cereal didn’t cost $10 like everywhere else I had seen up to that point and Tony the Tiger looked so darn happy to be eating these things. Unfortunately they were a big disappointment, probably good for you or something. That’s what I get for attempting to cheat with ‘Western’ food (but really, who can resist Tony’s ‘come hither’ eyes?).
From Singapore, goodnight friends.
pokemon sheets!
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