Back in Canadialand

It's 6.30am on day 9 back in Canadialand.

During the early hours of a day like this, Ghana feels like a lifetime away. The pangs of sadness that accompany every thought of those I left behind are slowly fading. My eyes no longer well up whenever I think of my office mates at Luv/Nhyira FM. I no longer get choked up whenever I think of the people I see every morning on my way to work - Ahmad Musa the elderly security guard at our guesthouse, the old lady selling roasted plantains and coco-yam, and Mable, the ten-or-so-year-old girl who helps her mom at her little breakfast stall. Yup, I was that emotional during those last few days in Kumasi.

I haven't shed a single tear since I came back but I still use the exclamation mark extravagantly whenever I chat with my friends from the Gold Coast. I still miss them terribly and the feeling is bitter-sweet. I'm glad to be back on my home turf surrounded by all my creature comforts but it still hurts a little to grow so attached to some people over such a short period of time and then leave them.

I miss my morning routine of catching a tro-tro to work, getting let off in the middle of traffic (sometimes) and dodging between cars and motorbikes to get to my office. I miss walking into the lively newsroom at Luv/Nyhira and setting up my laptop at the 'international desk' - the side of the newsroom reserved (or relegated, depending on how you look at it) for those of us with our own laptops.

I miss the way people greet each other so wholeheartedly with a 'good morning' and a heartfelt handshake, as though they haven't been meeting one another every single morning. I miss the way every visitor to the newsroom goes around to acknowledge every person with a greeting.

I miss the way my single-syllable name gets played around with or discarded completely;
Saeed: Shazleeeeeeennn!
Ohemeng: My Lin. Our Lin. Their Lin. Lin Lin.
Kofi: Lin hu shuu!
Kwabena: Miss Abdul Rahman.
Kate: Oieebo!
Benji: Obruni!
Dela: Lane!

I could go on and on with my list of why I miss Ghana but I won't. As much as it saddens me that these things have to be in the past in order for them to be cherised, I'm thankful to have had the experience. I must have been asked a hundred times if I will return to Ghana. My response was initially vague or ambivalent; now I can say with resolute certainty that I want to go back for another visit. Ghana, Kumasi and every one I met there will always have a special place in my heart no matter how many times I return to Africa.

My last day at Luv/Nyhira FM. I brought everyone some farewell gifts so they rushed out and got me a kente-print dress and some beautiful wood carvings in 'retalliation'. I was, and still am, deeply touched.
From left: Freddy, Zarau, Kofi, Cynthia, Eric, me, Gloria, Ohemeng, Kwabena.

The High School Diva

What am I to think when my old high school's diva decides to get chummy with me? I'd be skeptical and somewhat suspicious if she were simply attempting to reconnect after over ten years apart. However, given the fact that we never even spoke to each other at school, I am downright baffled. It took me a while to even respond to her "Salam. Pekaba?". Of course, after several borderline awkward exchanges that spanned over several painful weeks, her motives for contacting me became clear. Her intentions, now that they are clear, are no surprise to me. However, I will not discuss them here as they are hers alone and I am no one to judge.

It goes without saying that she was not exactly my favourite person at school (I mean, I call her the 'diva' here for a reason) but I did my best to put the past where it belongs and behave like an adult (that I hope to be). I might have let some sarcasm past my guard but I think I did a pretty good job at being civil. I know this because she saw fit to pour her heart out to me after our third or fourth conversation. (Another matter which I cannot discuss here since I assume they are private).

And this is where I make one of my stupid mistakes.

I agreed to meet up with her when I come to Malaysia for a visit. We exchanged phone numbers and I promised to give her a call - as soon as I land, none the less. She wanted to 'catch up', talk about her life and how her current state could be changed. Up till now, I still can't explain what it was that compelled me to offer my shoulder for her to cry on. We had nothing in common then and, upon viewing her profile on Facebook, I'm convinced we still exist on different planets today. Meeting up with her will be, at best, awkward. It will be at a place I don't want to be, at a time not commodious to me and among people I am absolutely uncomfortable with.

Naturally, it took me several days to realize this and regret my actions. I took the coward's way out and stopped responding to her messages. But I suspect I will call her because, having made the promise, I will feel like scum if I don't. I think she's completely oblivious to the internal conflict that I'm suffering through right now.

(Darwin, if you're reading this please be assured that I'm not talking about you.)

How do you break up with a friend?

Or, even more challenging, how do you break up with a friend and still be on good terms with him or her?

First of all, is that even possible?

In a romantic relationship, both parties mutually enter with a commitment, either explicit or otherwise. A friendship, on the other hand, supposedly comes about organically through casual encounters and shared interests. There is no official point of entry into a friendship; it therefore stands to reason that there can be no easy point of exit either.

What if, after several casual encounters, one party in a friendship finds that the mutual interest that the parties share were merely superficial; they were not substantial enough to sustain the friendship over the long run.

Brief, temporary friendships naturally dissipate over time when both parties feel that they no longer have much in common. However, when one party still feels that the friendship can and should go on, things get complicated.

Hence, my current dilemma.

I have a friend who is determined to keep the fire burning, so to speak. I, on the other hand, would rather staple my tongue to the floor than go out to the movies with her one more time.

The reason I feel this way is due to her personal attributes but I will not discuss them here. Let's just say that our personalities are not compatible. How do I explain that to her?

Even in the best possible scenario imaginable, she will take it as a personal rejection. Worst, she will be plagued by the fact that some of her attributes are unfavourable. Not just to me but to other people as well. That is a tragedy I am not willing to inflict upon her. There is no kind way to explain that we are simply not compatible and that those attributes I find unfavourable might in fact be attractive to other people. Simply put, I should just say, "It's not you, it's me."

However, given the way that statement has been used in the history of breakups, I know it will only bring more harm than good.

So the conundrum lingers. In the meantime, I have a trip to the cinema to weasel out of.

Now all of you be-have

My self-righteous alter-ego has made another escape and thus threatened to jeopardize another one of my already-fragile friendships. My fun-mister self was out chatting with a friend about his latest excursion into the Malaysian wilderness. Offhandedly he mentioned some hanky-panky he'd gotten into. It was a harmless escapade and my fun-mister-self fully understood the reason for this revelation. My dear friend had simply wanted to share a personal anecdote and perhaps take a little pride in his fecklessness. Without realizing it, my inner-school teacher came out and was fast typing at the keyboard, literally wagging a finger, shaking my head and going "Tsk, tsk, shame on you!" I couldn't believe it. She'd jumped out of nowhere and I was helpless tugging at her sleeves begging her to stop. She finally ceased her chastisement when my friend announced that he had some urgent business to attend to. I know full well that it was code for 'That's it, I've had enough of you!". By then I knew it was too late to smooth things over and make amends. The school teacher was gone and in her place was little Miss Nice trying to think up an apology. If only I could hold myself together better - ALL of my selves.

for amy

happy happiest 25th

Salam Eidul Ad'ha

I bite my tongue on this one.

I've always been adamantly opposed to prejudice, racism or any form of bigotry. Don't even get me started on women's rights (although that implies a certain amount of bias, ironically). What i never realized was the inherent prejudice I'd been carrying with me for longer than I care to admit. I would love to point the finger at some element as being the root of my bias - upbringing, education system, religion, etc. - but at the end of the day, it's up to me to form my own principles.

At the Eidi Adha gathering we had last night, I encountered some individuals whom I casually dismissed as those whose company I don't really favor i.e. 'not my type'. Due to the usual mingling principle of mingling at a party, I ended up sitting next to said individuals and found myself pressed to initiate a conversation, which I promptly did (I've discovered from experience that the longer you let the initial awkwardness linger, the harder it is to start chatting, thus the more awkward it gets). After the first few exchanges I inwardly admitted that these individuals weren't too bad. As the conversation progressed, I found them to be quite engaging and we ended up talking for quite a while.

The final straw that won me over was the discovery that not only did we share the same passion for reading, but that we've also read the great literary works I labeled as my all-time-favorites. Rarely do I find people I can easily talk to about my book-dependency, even rarer do I find people who've read the books I have.

The night ended with the exchange of hugs and contacts and promises to keep in touch. Sounds a bit corny but I think we were all under the sweet ephemeral effect of new alliances so cut me some slack, please. I'm sure the effect will run off in a few days. In the mean time, I'm enjoying the absence of ludicrous stares when I mentioned 'Beloved' with my eyes wide as golf balls. That and I'm biting my tongue still, of course.

dear friend, where art thou?

Life deals a cruel hand where friendships are concerned. Sometimes I think it's a misery to be close to someone because all I seem able to do is leave them.

See You Later

'I dreamt of arwah again last night,'

What was it about this time?

'Nothing, except that I saw him again and he looked happy, like always.'

You must've been thinking a lot about him then. It must have been at least six months since I last dreamt about him.

'No, I just miss him, like you, that's all.'

.......


My dearest Syakir,

I keep thinking that if I weren't a Muslim and didn't know the certainty of the Afterlife, I'd imagine you soul fluttering above me every time my thoughts strayed to you. I'd probably picture you perched on top of the wire-mesh butterfly you made me years ago. I take everywhere with me, you know. It sat on my dressing table for a whole year until you left. I took it with me to Brisbane and I took it with me when I came back. I have it here right now on my office-issue whiteboard, next to the pencil-sketch of John Lennon that Apiz gave me.

I remember the day you made it for me. You came and set at my workstation in the studio, twirling and twisting the wires while we talked. I was excited when I saw the butterfly taking form but I went speechless when you handed it to me and said, 'Nah, ambikla.' You've given me many other gifts of the like but the butterfly is the most meaningful yet. I'd had a vague, unattended obsession with butterflies but you put it into a physical form that day, almost off-handedly.

Your sudden departure still leaves me staring into space. During those first few days I'd cry until I thought I'd suffocate. More painful than your absence was the fact that the rest of us get to go on with life and you can't. Most frightening of all is the possibility that you might be forgotten.

It's been two years now and I can see that that is no where near possible. The pain of saying goodbye to you has turned into bittersweet remembrance. I've found that my prayers are a better offering than any amount of tears I could shed for you. I take solace through my faith in God's bountiful wisdom.

I know now that it was never a goodbye. Just a 'See you later!' where the 'later' isn't as clear cut as usual but it's deifinitely there. In your case it's somewhere better, somewhere outside this life. There's a long wait but it's definitely coming.

So, my dear friend, I'll see you later.

21 conversations

twenty conversations in my head/dear friend, where art thou???

Here in my part of the world, courtesy is handed out in small doses. There is no rush to let the ladies go first, to reply a gracious 'thank you' or to return an unwarranted but honest smile. Here in my part of the world, courtesy is a highly underrated commodity.

I walked into what I thought would be a positively career building interview and came out questioning my reason for choosing architecture as my life's vocation. Actually it didn't take much in the way of emotional bashing for me to start regretting my choices. I'd been questioning myself for some years now. Luckily enough, I have my dad's ability to simply ignore such gnawing questions and soldier on never mind everything else. I fear that the said question might again rise up to the surface to give me another scare.

Apart from life-impacting career decisions, my current situation consists of a thousand minial tasks which I set out to complete daily. I came home feeling as if my entire family's existance was in need of a major life-style overhaul. This is probably a mixed result of reality and my own sense of self-rightiousness. My family's not really in such a dire situation and I simply need something to occupy myself with while looking for a job.

There is an ongoing line of conversation that runs through my subconcios mind. I'd tune in and out of it unconciously. I'd be doing the dishes and suddenly realize that I was talking to an old friend about the minute details of dishwashing. Am I going nuts? I don't think so. I'm simply missing my friends, people with whom I'd spend hours talking about anything and everything. Currently none of them are at my disposal, so I guess my subconcious really is the next best thing. God, I really miss those long pointless conversations.

Sun

Sun

I caught the sun rising today. It said hi to me so I waved back with as much optimism as I can muster. The day promises to be beautiful so I breathed easy and sipped my tea. Contemplating the hows of packing never got me anywhere, so I might just start randomly dumping all my stuff into boxes and label them with ingenous tags like "stationery and sorts" or "software + some other hard stuff" so I'd have something to smile about while unpacking them a year from now. If there ever was a plus side to saying goodbye, albeit a temporary one, it'd be the food and caffein. I've had more farewell luches and coffee meets that I can count on my hands. The pain of never seeing them again ( for the next year, more or less) is somewhat soothed by whatever caffeine-enhanced-beverage I chose for the day. Come to think of it, saying goodbye has been a lot of fun. The only friend I might worry about being honest when she said she'd miss me was my Turkish classmate. She relied quite heavily on my assistance for some of her major design assignments. I do hope I wasn't her last resort.
I brag rather sheepishly (try that expression in the mirror, you'll laugh yourself silly) to my friends that I've been packed and ready to go since last week. Strangely though, there's still a lot of stuff I feel I haven't touched. Up till last week I'd set my mind to not seeing my family and friends back home for at least two more years. Now that I'd decided to return, extending my stay for even another day seemed unbearable. I find myself worrying that something might go wrong at the airport and I'd have to get a summer job here instead, which would drive me further into unadulterated caffeine consumption, no doubt.

I'm anxious about going home too. Something tells me there are some ghosts from my past ready to jump out and give me a nice scare. If only I could clearly list down all the hanky panky I'd been up to before coming here. Then I could properly prepare an alibi should any of them ever surface.

There's some people I'm dying to see. Two years without eye contact can either do some serious damage or bring us closer. I'll leave that one up to God. I just hope I can be more honest with myself this time around. If there's one thing I'd like to do when I return, it's that I'll try not lie to myself too much. Nevermind everyone else. I think being honest to myself is most important in growing up. I really do want to grow up and resonate more maturity in my actions. I think it's about time.

Maybe a bit more time in the sun will help jump start my growth spurt. So sun, here I come!

red

Going out to meet dear Feyza

(in the midst of throwing stuff into my oversized purse filling my water bottle)

Red flowered pinnafore and a red T
Red scarf and a red mp3 player
Red-striped bag and brownish-red loafers.

Wonder what Feyza's gonna be wearing today.

Back to UTM - Day 1

I've forgotten how much I miss the company of my friends,
even the most casual ones.
I couldn't help getting a bit reminiscent,
going through the gates of UTM.
Reflecting on the good times and better times,
and how they can never happen again.

Me, Anum and Echa stopped at the Pasar Rabu,
Got some jagung bakar and some drinks,
Sat down by the lake to watch kayakkers,
Happy couples and day-time buddies,
Had some fun playing hookie,
While the sun goes down, in muted beauty.

It's been a perfect day.

::friendly colours::

Kak Ila's shot