Category Archives: Random Rants

Secret Societies and NDP.

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Warning: Very Long Post and Rant Ahead. For Sharmen and Gilbert, skip if you don’t want to waste your “2 years”.

Happy reading.

I’ve been blogging a lot the past 2 days and I have 3 reasons for this sudden spurt of inspiration:

1) I’m procrastinating on my studies. My reading list is just piling up and up.

2) I’m bored

3) I’m procrastinating and cannot be bothered to study. What’s the point in doing things half-heartily?

4) I’ve got a lot of things to say. Might as well do some verbal diarrhea now cause I’m not going to blog for the rest of the week (I’ll be studying very hard to catch up on the readings).

Okay, that’s 4 reasons.

Anyway, I got off MSN with Ranga a few hours ago and we were both talking (me talking, he bitching) about NDP. For those non-Singaporeans, NDP means National Day Parade. NDP falls on 09 August and its the day when Singapore was unceremoniously kicked out of the Malaysia Federation in 1965. We are the only country to be given our independence against our will. What a fucking irony.

Yes, I know a lot about Singapore’s history. I am FASCINATED by my country’s history. I’ve read Lee Kuan Yew’s memoirs: “The Singapore Story” and “From Third World to First”. And not the abridged versions. The thick, proper ones. And not because I was in History class, I read them out of my own free will (and time).

Anyway, Ranga was complaining how NDP was just the same old, same old. Halfway through, he mentioned that it was 8:22pm in Singapore and he was feeling very irritated. I asked him why and he said something about the pledge. Then I realized and started LOLing at him through MSN.

Apparently, I read on Temasek Review’s website that every Singaporean is encouraged to say the National pledge at 8.22pm. Ranga said he was not going to do it and said that serving 2 years in National Service was equivalent to saying the pledge 100 times. I couldn’t help but agree.

I don’t see the point of having a country-wide mass pledge because it seems too co-ordinated and seems like another Singaporean attempt to break the world record. Okay, let’s say our 3 million odd people says the pledge, what happens after that?

Nothing.

Why?

Cause if you think about it, every morning from Monday to Friday, thousands upon thousands of school kids are saying the pledge during school assemblies. So essentially, we are having a mass pledge day after day during school weeks. I know cause I sang the National Anthem and said the pledge everyday for 6 years in primary school.

So after the 3 million odd people said the pledge, they’ll just continue with doing whatever they’re doing in their life. What an anti-climax. Same old, same old.

Halfway through our MSN coversation, Ranga asked if I had to celebrate NDP in Sydney. I told him that the Singaporean Student Society in the USyd might be holding a dinner celebration or something like that. I don’t know cause I didn’t join the society and frankly speaking, I only know one Singaporean student, a girl, from the university. The rest are my army khakis and I’m pretty sure that the 3 of them are not celebrating NDP too.

Coincidentally, my dad SMSed me to ask if Singaporeans were celebrating NDP in Sydney. I told him I didn’t know and he asked if the embassy were celebrating.

I replied: “Don’t know, not sure.”

He asked if I was registered with the Singaporean embassy. I returned his question with a question, asking if I had needed to register with them. Wait later kenna called back enlistment, then how? He told me to register with them so that I’ll be inform about any Singaporean celebrations or events.

I think I’ll register with them. But only if I run into any difficulties or problems in Sydney. But for me attending Singaporean events? Forget it.

Back to the MSN conversation.

Ranga said that he finds these Singaporean Student Societies stupid. In fact, when I told him that it was not only Singaporeans doing it and the Koreans, Chinese, Taiwanese, French, German and Vietnamese and majority of the international students have their own societies, he said he found all of them stupid.

I agreed with him, more or less.

I agreed with Ranga because it was kind of pointless on congregating together in a foreign country. I mean, you go to a foreign country to either work or study for the next few years and to me, you’ll need to submerge yourself into the local culture. I mean, what’s the point of staying to a foreign country for a few years and not learning anything?

I understand that the purpose of having these societies are to provide support and help for their own nationalities. Yes, we all get homesick in a new country and we all feel lost. These nationality societies provide some comfort by reminding us of our home country and hey, you get to speak in your home country lingo and probably get to meet some hot chicks/hunks!

I don’t find anything wrong with that but I find it rather ironic.

Let me pick on my own nationality (who else can I pick on?).

I bet the majority of the Singaporeans student here complain about Singapore constantly. Hey, I admit I’m one of them too. Weather fucking hot and humid. Government fucking restrictive. We guys have to serving 2 years of NS. Fuck lah. Singapore not fun at all lor. Singapore boring lor. Singapore where got 4 seasons, HAH? Singapore no hot chicks/ hunks. Singapore boring, Singapore boring, Singapore sucks, Singapore fucks, Singapore and the list goes on.

Yet, over here, they congregate together. For what? Just like what Ranga said, when they are in Singapore, they complain and complain. Yet once they are out of Singapore, they form Singaporean societies. He also added that if they loved Singapore so much, they should have just stayed on in Singapore. Exactly my point.

Step out of your comfort zones! Explore new cultures! USyd has so many international students! Explore their cultures! This goes to all the nationality societies. In fact, USyd, or more accurately, the USyd Union has a society called UniMates and I’m a member of that. UniMates is formed just for international students. They organize outings to explore Sydney and Australian cultures and to provide support for international students. Homesick? Join UniMates. Lost and sleepless in Sydney? Join Unimates. Not sure of what to do with your course? Join UniMates. Want to meet your future BF/GF? Joing UniMates. UniMates. UniMates.

Yeah, this is blatant advertising but I couldn’t care less. The only thing I see good coming out of these nationality societies is national solitary. Seriously, its a waste of time and money if you don’t make full use of the diverse cultural and social life in university.

Won’t it be funny if you studied in a foreign country and went back to your homeland, not knowing anything about your host country??? Let’s take this scenario for an example. Let’s take ME for an example:

Parents: “Ah Boy, ah, so how’s Australia? Got learn anything new?”

Ah Boy (Me): “Got lor, economics lor.” (I’m doing Arts but majority of the Singaporeans are in Econs and Business).

Parents: “No lah, I mean, about Australia, Sydney.”

Ah Boy: “Like what?”

Parents: “Like their culture, what they eat, drink, how they dress, what’s the lifestyle.”

Ah Boy: “Err… the shops close very early. Like 9pm. No 24 hours food outlet.”

Parents: “And?”

Ah Boy: “Err… uh….. ya, that’s all loh. Oh and got a lot of Singaporeans friends.”

Parents: “KNN, spend 3 years just to make friends with Singaporeans. Then pay $100,000 for what?”

I’m not saying that it’s not right to make friends with our fellow countrymen. Neither am I saying that we should start adopting Australian mannerisms, accent, style and et cetera. No, what I’m saying is that we should stop being so insulated in our own little world. It irritates the shit out of me to see every nationality congregating together in the university. Each world making minimal contact with each other or the local population, each world minding their own business. Maybe I’ve only been in school for one month and haven’t explore much of the dynamics of the student population.

Damn, I should take up anthropology next Semester.

But yeah, so far what I noticed is each little bubble bouncing around without making contact at all. It’s really a shame for USyd, really.

I once told the Singaporean girl that I would never identify myself outright as a Singaporean to the Singaporeans in USyd. I’m not trying to avoid them or reject them but for me, if I wanted to make any new Singaporean friend, I would have stayed on in Singapore. If a Singaporean here asked if I am a Singaporean, I would say yes, I’m Singaporean, I won’t deny it. But when I hear a group of Singaporeans chattering nearby, I won’t go up to them and introduce myself as a Singaporean.

Which brings me to yet another point.

Neil Humphreys, a British writer who stayed in Singapore for 10 years once gave this remark. During his student days in the University of Manchester, he noticed that the Asians tended to stay within their own groups. They cooked rice, ate rice, spoke Chinese, Thai and other Asian languages and hanged out together instead of mixing around with other nationalities. So Chinese with Chinese. Thais with Thais and so on.

Now he’s not being racist. No, he’s not. Hear me out first. Or you can go read his travelogues on Singaporean culture. I bet he knows more than the typical Singaporean teenager. So shut up and listen.

Neil Humphreys came from a working class background. A blue-collared background to be exact. A single parent (his mum) home to be more exact. Now, at that point of time, the class system was still quite entrenched in the British mentality. So for a working class, blue-collared boy like Neil to make it to university, it was quite a surprise. Really. Neil also added that his London Cockney accent was quite distinctive within the student body as most came from the middle to upper classes.

Instead of trying to blend in with those classes and hiding his blue-collared background, Neil said he decided to stick to his accent and stick out like a sore thumb. He stuck out even more when he befriended a Scottish guy who spoke in very thick Scottish accent. But that’s another story.

What Neil said was that he found it rather absurd that all the Asians stuck together instead of learning more about their host country’s culture. The only Asian friend he made was a Hong Kongker, who rather succinctly told Neil that if he wanted to make Hong Kong friends, he would have stayed put in Hong Kong.

Therefore, Neil also encourage one to absorb the local culture. During his 10 year stay in Singapore from the 1990s to 2000s, he stayed in a HDB flat in Toa Payoh and ate in coffee shops. And was subjected to many pokes and prods from Singaporean heartlanders. He did not go to Singapore on some expat packages with some MNCs. He just plop himself in Singapore and called it home for the next 10 years and worked in local, quasi-governmental organization like SPH (Singapore Press Holdings) and as a teacher.

His Singaporean travelogues should be read. Seriously. But I’m just diverting away from the main issues.

Right now my favourite ‘Singaporean’ author is staying in some city called Wallagoong or some obscure place, probably trying to absorb Aussie culture there. But that’s not the point.

The point is, if I wanted more Singaporean friends, I would have stayed in Singapore, innit? INNIT? If I wanted to congregate with other Singaporeans, I would have studied in NUS, NTU or SMU.

So please stop congregating in nationality societies. It defeats the purpose of studying in a multicultural university.

Finally, I’ll like to bring up another matter.

One cold, cloudy day in school, I was trying to walk as fast as I can to the bookstore to get some novels that were required reading for English class. I was only wearing a thin cardigan and sweater and so I was trying to get to the warm bookstore as fast as possible. Along the way, this Chinese woman stopped me and I made a mistake of slowing down for her.

Before the words came out of her mouth, I knew exactly what she was going to say.

“Are you a student? Do you go to church? I am from a church nearby and would like to invite you to our bible studies.”

This have happened to me 4 or 5 times. I realized they always target the asians and never the caucasians. And then they always target ME. WHY? Anyway, I declined her offers as usual and started to increase my walking speed. It was FUCKING cold. The sky was overcast and there was no sun that day.

Then she asked me where I was from.

I was still walking, so I said “I am SINGAPOREAN”

“Oh, so you are Japanese.”

Well, I was so shocked that I actually stopped in disbelief. The Chinese women took the wrong hint and thought that she caught my attention and so she went on blabbing about some ridiculous thing about how 1 in 2 Japanese are atheists or don’t believe in God or want to but have no idea where to start. She hopes to convince those 1 in 2 Japanese that there is more to life and God is the way and so on. All this while, she kept looking at me.

So I guess I must be those 1 in 2 Japanese.

After she finished her little speech, she stared expectantly at me, waiting for my reply. I was cold, tired and irritated and so I gave her a curt “not interested” and walked off.

Well, halfway to the bookstore, I decided to stop at a bench to readjust my heavy backpack. From the corner of my eye, I saw a couple creeping up towards me.

They really creep up towards me. I’m not joking. Seriously. They approached me silently and cautiously, eyeing my every movement.

I felt cornered.

Before I knew it, the couple were standing beside me and they just stood there, not saying anything.

I looked up and politely asked them if I could be of any assistance. After all, USyd has dozen of tourists walking around the campus and the couple could be one of them.

But they were not tourists.

The male started hesitantly, he asked me in a rather soft voice if I would like to join their bible study and that their church was just nearby. Would I care to join them for one session.

No, I didn’t care and declined their invitation. Fortunately, they were not as persistent as the previous Chinese lady and so they smiled and left me alone.

Damn it, I think I need to re-grow my facial hair and look like a hobo. In that case, these people would leave me alone and stop approaching me. I mean, out of all the asians walking around me (and there are A LOT), they always target me. WHY? WHY? WHY?

Maybe the Singapore Student Society are out to get me through these means?

Scary.

I’m fucked.

P.S. Its 3am and I’m really, really tired. So I’m sorry if this blog just goes on and on randomly. I tried to structure it coherently but am just too tired.

English Grammar

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Its the end of Week 2 at school. Tutorials started this week so it was the first time meeting up with all my tutors and group members.

All my tutors are women.

It was just something that got my attention. Nope, no hot tutors. I’m not saying they are ugly but they’re normal people. All doing PhD. Some attached, one just gave birth.

Having a hot one would be an incentive though. I’m just saying.

We have to attend 9 out of 11 tutorials, about 80%. Anything less than that will be considered as absent. And it means I might be failed or suspended or kicked out.

Not a nice thing to think of, especially with a AUS$13,000 per semester fee hanging over my head.

Yeah, AUS$13,000. 20% of Sydney U funds come from us, the international students. I’m pissed that there are no grants, fee helps or scholarships. Even if there are scholarships provided, I’ll either have to be on the dean list or one of the top students. Don’t even get me started on transport concessions.

All I can say that international students get screwed left, right, front, back, top and bottom. I should have went to Aberdeen instead of coming here. Sure, the cost of living might be higher in Scotland, but I can say that there’ll be probably more financial help in UK compared to Sydney.

But what can I say? After all, I’m part of the AUS$15 billion education industry. I’m just a fucking product.

My only option now is to grit and bear it. Study the shit out. Party the shit out. Drink the shit out. Okay, not so much on the last two, probably more on the first, lest my dad decides to withdraw from his $100,000 ‘investment’.

So to increase my dad’s ‘investment’, I turned up for every single tutorial. There were four, one for each subjects. The first tutorial of the week was Psych. Pretty easy tutorial, mostly just talking about the introductory material and introducing ourselves to each other. Second was English (the film and fiction one). Pretty easy tutorial too, just introducing ourselves, citing our favourite movie (I mentioned American History X, to impress the shit out of everyone. And yes, I watched the movie twice) and our favourite novel (mentioned Life of Pi even though I’ve only read 10 pages).

Third tutorial was World Politics. Same thing, basically just introducing ourselves and then on to yabbing about the  theory of realism. My group was mostly girls and all of them were discussing passionately about international relations while the four guys (me and three others) just sat there like stone. We made non-committal remarks and just left it there.

But the last tutorial, English (Text and Language) was a killer. For this subject, we were studying about the structure of the English language, something like linguistic but not quite. For this week, we were studying English Grammar. Now, of all things, I suck, suck, suck at English Grammar. Countless of of my essays were marked by English teachers, stating I had excellent vocabulary, great writing skills, great this, great that, BUT horrible, terrible grammar.

I mix up my past tense, present tense, future tense, past continous tense and what not. I still can’t tell the differences from a pronoun and noun, adverb and verb, adjectives and what not and et cetera.

Well, our tutor made us pair up and made us go through a paragraph to hunt for all the pronouns and nouns. Thank God I did a bit of reading the night before, so I roughly knew what pronouns and nouns were. The whole tutor group went silent while we went through the passage, looking for the said pronouns and nouns. After 5 minutes of doing that, we went over our work with our partners.

Then, right there, in front of my partner, I made myself look like a total idiot.

First, she had those startlingly, misty gray eyes. Now, misty, gray eyes usually transform me into a blubbering idiot because all I can do is to stare at them dreamingly.

And that was what I did. Stared at her for 30 seconds, which was like eternity when she asked me whether this particular word was a noun. And the whole time she was looking at me with a puzzled look, wondering why I was not answering her.

The second time was when I actually told her that the world “white” and “straight” are pronouns. She gave me another puzzled look and said: “Really? I thought they were adjectives.” I shut up and didn’t offered anymore opinions.

Really, FML. It seems like I have to start studying and reading more again.

Most of the class contributed to the discussion about English Grammar while I just sat there like a block of stone. Oh FML.

Seriously, these people are fucking geniuses. The worse thing? They don’t look like it. That’s what I hate. They don’t look like a geniuses until they open their mouth. First, you underestimate them. Or you think that they are like you, average. Then you get screwed by them. God…..

But they are nice people, really. I remember the particular conversation I had with my partner during the English Grammar tutorial, which went like this:

Me: “Did you do this week readings?”

Her: “No. Did you?”

Me: “Nope, neither did I.”

Then we both smiled at each other, comforted in the fact that we both didn’t prepare for the tutorial. Of course, that illusion was shattered when I realized that even if my partner didn’t do any readings, she was still smarter than me. And her English Grammar could kicked the shit out of me.

Hmm, maybe she did do the readings. Maybe she was just trying to make me feel better. Or maybe she paid attention during lectures.

Crap, I need to start paying attention instead of zoning out all the time.

P.S. I’m still a bit freaked out by last night nightmare and keep expecting a MINDEF e-mail to pop up in my inbox, telling me to report back to Singapore.

The Worst Nightmare

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I wrote this on Facebook this morning and decided to post it here too.

Excuse the vulgarities and bad grammar, I wrote it within 5 minutes of waking up.

I just woke up five minutes ago and had one of the worst nightmare ever. It’s still very vivid in my mind.

No, it wasn’t me being trapped in a room with a reverse bear trap stuck to my face and Jigsaw talking to me through a recorded tape.

Not me being chased by a murderer, homicidal man, monster or Pennywise. Actually, I don’t have a phobia of clowns. Pennywise just popped in my mind.

In fact, to other guys, this might just seem a normal dream. But not for me.

It started off with a mundane dream. In it, I went for some random medical check-up. Don’t ask me why, I don’t know. It was a typical one, blood test, urine test, eye sight test, x-ray, the works. So after the medical test, I went back home.

A few days later, I got a letter. Cool, results from the medical test are back. Here’s what the letter said:

Lim, Zhihan Zareth

Medical Results: Satisfactory

PES Status: A

Date of Enlistment: 07/09/2009 (I can’t remember the date, all I knew in my dream was that I had one week of freedom left)

Please report to Pasir Ris Bus Interchange at 0730HRS.

It was a rather simple letter. But one look at the heading and recognizing Mindef’s logo, I realized I was being enlisted. PES A some more. Now, I’ve always wanted to be a PES A or B as I wanted to learn how to handle a rifle and grenade. Call me dumb, but everyone has their own opinion. Some are just more garang (on) then others.

Back to the dream.

When I read the letter, I was horrified. What, enlistment? What the fuck is Mindef talking about? It was impossible for me to enlist because of these reason:

1) I had served 2 years of National Service
2) I am currently in Sydney studying and I can’t just stop half-way through my studies.
3) I served my 2 years of National Service and it’s time for me to fuck off.
4) Serve another 2 years? For FUCK?
5) I have permanent hearing loss. For goodness sake, did they not notice it during medical test?
6) I DID 2 YEARS OF NATIONAL SERVICE
7) Serve another 2 years as a combatant? FOR FUCK? FOR FUCK? FOR WHAT FUCK??????

Well, after cursing (in my dream, that is). I call the famous MINDEF (NS) hotline: 1800-3676767. My blood was boiling and I was ready to give that ministry a piece of my mind.

How? Well, in the real life, when I was serving my REAL National Service, I was a reservists clerk. Meaning I handled reservists policies and training. Me, being a ‘reservist’ now, knew my own rights. I still remember certain policies like the back of my hand. So MINDEF is going to have a tough fight.

Back to the dream.

I called the famous 1800-eNSNSNS hotline and managed to get through to a clerk after only five minutes of waiting. After explaining my situation to him, he put me on hold for another 10 minutes while checking my records. He came back on the phone and, guess, what he said,

“Aiyah, serve another 2 years lor. No big deal.”

FUCK THAT SHIT. Well, look here Mr. I-Don’t-Give-A-Fuck, in two years, I would have finished my degree. FUCK, I would have gone on to do one more year of honours instead of wasting my time and youth camping outfield with 200 other guys. In fact, I FINISHED MY NATIONAL SERVICE AND HAVE NO NEED TO SERVE ANOTHER 2 YEARS. KNN. CHEEBYE.

Well, Mr. I-Don’t-Give-A-Fuck hanged up on me before I can finish cursing his entire family.

Undaunted, I called every single superior in CMPB (Central Manpower Base). How did I know the number? Skills and knowledge from real life, man. In my REAL 2 years as a reservists clerk I made friends with the superiors in CMPB.

Well, after identifying myself to another I-Don’t-Give-A-Fuck clerk, I got fed up and demanded to speak to his superior, who turns out to be a friend of mine during my REAL NS life. I won’t mention her name, its not her fault after all, its just a dream. Let’s call her Susan.

Susan: “Zareth! Long time no hear from you!”

Me (I cut to the chase): “Susan, what the hell is going on? Why am I called back for another 2 years of enlistment??”

Susan: “Ah, really ah? Wait let me check.”

After another 10 minutes wait.

Susan: “Oh, because MINDEF changed policies again mah. Aiyah, come back serve 2 years won’t die, right?”

Damn right I won’t die, not. Well, I cursed Susan’s family and hanged up the phone first. Desperate, I called direct to the enlistment office, where an unfortunate clerk picked the phone up, only to hear my screaming and ranting:

Me: “WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU GUYS CALLING ME BACK FOR ENLISTMENT YOU FUCKING CHOA CHEEBYE!!! KNN! NABEH, 2 YEARS FOR YOU NOT ENOUGH, IS IT???? MUST TAKE ANOTHER 2 YEARS FROM ME, IS IT??? YOU FUCKING COCKSUCKER, I DEMAND AN EXPLANATION NOW!!!!”

The clerk on the phone reduced to a blubbering idiot. After I calmed down somewhat, I explained everything to him and told him, NOT, I repeat, NOT to just try to pawn me off because God knows, I handled every reservists matter before and I knew my rights.

FUCK, if I had to, I’ll write to the Strait Times forum and complain. Even to Temasek Review.com. God help Mindef once every reservist goes into riot mode. There goes Singapore’s security.

The clerk, sufficiently cowed, told me that he’ll need to do a thorough check on my records to understand why I was being enlisted for another 2 years. He told me he would take a long while and that he would call me back. Me, being a clerk before, told him that he better call me back by 5pm because if he don’t, God help him and his family.

Well, half hour later, my phone rang.

And I woke up.

It was my phone alarm ringing.

I’ve never made out with my pillow so hard before. I realized everything was just a dream, although a very horrible one.

I can’t explain, why, of all dreams, this has to pop into my mind. Even in Singapore, after I ORD-ed or ROD-ed, I never, ever had this kind of dreams before. My only explanation?

Well, maybe being a reservist clerk, I get screamed and yelled at by desperate reservists, who in essence, were just normal people trying to make ends meet in the harsh world of Singapore. Many times, I’ve been subjugated to lawyer’s threat, letters from the MP (Member of Parliament) and what nots. How I cursed at the clerks in my dream were exactly how they cursed at me.

Sure, some were complete, total bastards. They did not deserved my help whatsoever. They’d do anything to skirt from the call of duty, using any lame excuse. To those, go fuck yourself, you’ve never gained my sympathy.

But to the majority, especially the average joe working his butt off, I’ll always try to help them. Be it reducing their training by a few days or postponing it to another more convenient date. But sometimes, my hands were tied behind by the system and I could do completely nothing if their unit demands them to come back for ‘operational’ integrity.

In the 2 years of being a reservist clerk, I did become jaded and cynical, treating every single NSman (reservist) with suspicion, not believing their so-called ‘sob story’ until they can actually show me the hard proof. Blame it on the minority (the lame excuser, the fucking impolite ones, the one who try to fucking boss his way around the system) who spoiled the market.

And maybe because I feel guilty that I’m secured in the knowledge that I won’t ever have to do reservist training. Ever.

Who says being a clerk doesn’t come with emotional scars?

My very pathetic weekend after a glorious week.

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Thursday and Friday were truly the high point of my three weeks stay in Sydney. I took a 2 hour train trip to Blue Mountains to visit a friend and to do some sightseeing. And with this best/army friend majoring in hospitality and his known affection for good food and drinks and anything gastronomical, what did I get?

A food and sightseeing tour of Blue Mountains with a very attentive and knowledgeable host.

What more could I want?

I’ll like to talk more about the trip but that is another story. That trip deserves a post of its own. Pictures will be uploaded too.

Anyway, I got back to Sydney on Friday evening around 8pm. I was dog tired after walking around so much from all the sightseeing and from Central Station back to my hostel (15 minutes walk). I just dumped my duffel bag near the door, changed from my sticky clothes (story in the next post) and promptly plopped myself in front of my laptop and just started doing some mind-numbing surfing.

Strange eh? How I switched so fast from active-and-hyped-up-Zareth back to my lazy-ass-mode.

After half hour of surfing the net, I decided to clear out my duffel bag and packed up my stuff. It was then I realized that I had quite a lot of laundry to do. I mean, A LOT. For some reason, this week load was more than last week. Maybe it was because I bought new shirts and t-shirts. Six altogether.

So this strange thought jumped into my mind. Even though I was tired and I wanted to just turn myself into a zombie in front of my laptop, I decided, hey, let’s hand wash all my undies and socks! It’ll be fun! So I loaded up the pail with warm water, pour the required amount of detergent and added baking soda and swirled the water around to get warm, sudsy water.

Then I tortured my undies and socks by dumping them into the pail. I soaked the clothes for a few minutes before doing the usual kneading, rubbing, scrubbing and washing (its not called hand washing for no reason). That was the easy part. The difficult part was rinsing the undergarments. Seriously, I stood in the shower for a good half hour, just rinsing 5 pairs of boxers and 2 pairs of socks. A note, don’t put too much detergent, put less than the recommended amount. It’ll be easier to rinse.

After the rinsing, was the usual line drying. I had to change my home clothes (clothes I wear when at home, duh) cause I got totally soaked. Then I realized that even with the preemptive strike against my laundry load, I still had a lot of clothes to wash. The list:

1) One dirty, sticky jeans.

2) 6 t-shirts

3) 2 long sleeves tees. (One of them sticky).

4) 2 shirts

5) 2  shorts

6) 1 undershirt

7) 4 towels

That’s not including a jacket and two scarves I have to send for dry-cleaning.

Feeling depressed, I took comfort in doing stuff like more net surfing and snacking on mixed nuts. Around 2am, I felt very pooped and tired and so decided to turn in for the night.

And did not wake up till 1:44pm today. Wow, almost 12 hours of sleep.

I fixed myself brunch and did more net surfing until 4pm when I managed to muster myself to hand wash my jeans. Yep, hand wash jeans. I love my jeans and I don’t really trust the washing machine my hostel provides. Why? Cause even when I adjust the setting to ‘colours’, I still see hot water coming out. I mean, WTF? I expect cold water or mildly warm water, not hot. And jeans bleed very badly in hot water.

So I spent another 45 minutes hand washing my jeans. The usual kneading and scrubbing in a pail before the rinsing. I had to apply more force as the jeans was one of the main victim of yesterday’s fiasco. So after washing my jeans, I flat dried my jeans. I had to use a chair and two shelves to achieve that. Mental note: buy a drying rack.

I then did the usual laundry pile sorting: separating the colours from the whites and from the towels. I made 8 trips to the laundry room within 2 hours to wash the clothes, dry them and pick them up.

8 trips.

I didn’t want to spend 3 bucks per load on drying my clothes (that rhymes) and wanted to save money so I decided just to use the dryer for my towels. As for all my garments, I either hang them up drying or converted my bed into a makeshift drying rack. So now I have moist garments everywhere drying in my room. I really, really need to get a drying rack.

In the midst of all these laundry doings, I realized that I’ve forgotten to pay rent for the next two weeks. SHIT. I only realized it at 8pm and by then the reception was closed. I hope they are still open on Sundays. I really don’t want to be kick out and be without a home. School’s staring soon!

After all the laundry were done with garments drying in every possible spot and the warm towels folded and stored in my wardrobe, I proceeded to wipe down both my sling bag (another main victim of yesterday’s fiasco) and my duffel bag. Then I fixed myself dinner, which consisted of peanut butter and honey oatmeal, tuna with cold bread and cucumbers and Heineken.

Even the dinner sounds boring. What’s worse, I saw two Korean kids carrying out a big, steaming bowl of pork ribs from the communal kitchen when I was on my way to collect my towels. Damn it, I need meeaaattt.

Tomorrow will be equally boring. After buying the drying rack, I’ll probably just entertain myself by watching my clothes dry.

I feel like my life revolves around laundry. Since its winter now and I don’t sweat, I’ll wear an item of garment four times. This excludes underwear or socks. Jeans will only be washed twice a year or when it get soiled, whichever comes first. Jackets and cardigans will be washed after winter or when soiled, whichever comes first. There, laundry load cut and money saved.

I’m starting to feel domesticated.

By myself.

A briefing, a camera, some shopping and baking soda.

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Quite a lot of things happened the past few days. First, I would like to announce that my mobile is officially screwed up, so I would be getting a Samsung phone tomorrow.

Second, I bought a camera yesterday, the Sony cyber-shot S Series camera (Model DSCS930B). It was recommended to me by my younger sis (she’s the photographer of the family). I wanted  a Panasonic camera that was going for $199 at this electronic shop called Bing Lee (recommended by Edward). But the Sony camera is going at $159 and has slightly better specs than the Panasonic camera. Here’s a picture of both the Sony and Panasonic cameras:

Sony camera

Website link for the specs of the Sony camera: http://www.sony.com.au/product/dsc-s930/sku/dsc-s930_bc+au2

Panasonic camera

Website link for specs on Panasonic camera: http://panasonic.com.au/products/details.cfm?objectID=4894

Third, I managed to attend the information session at the university yesterday. I woke up at 9am and rushed through breakfast, changing clothes and brisk walked to my school and managed to reached the briefing session at 11am. I could have got there earlier if I didn’t lose my way around the campus (its damn big) and the Biochemistry and Microbiology building. That building itself is almost like a maze and I spend 10 minutes trying to find the room. Luckily, the session started late and so I didn’t miss anything and managed to get the more important information at the end.

It was quite amusing, both getting the camera and the information session. When I was walking around the campus, trying to look for that Microbiology building (of all places the ISSU had to chose that one), I passed by two Asian dudes, whom I guessed correctly, was trying to find the same building. Sure enough, barely after I sat down, they both came in a few minutes later.

That was not what it amused me. I was just pointing out the coincidence. What really amused me was that when I was trying to find the entrance into the Microbiology building (like I said, its a maze), I bumped into this Caucasian man, who I guessed correctly, was trying to find the location of the briefing.

Anyway, we both managed to find the entrance and when we entered the place, I was a bit surprised to find out that not only the exterior of the building was old, the interior was OLD too. Everything inside was probably dated back to the 1960s or 1970s, that was how old it was. The flooring looked old and worn. The stairs and the bannister looked old. The walls looked old. Even the lifts were old.

That was when the amusing event took place. The caucasian man was about a hundred metres ahead of me and so he entered the building before me. Subsequently, he got into one of the lifts just as I entered the place. I was a bit shell-shocked by the oldness of everything (coming from a country where demolitions of the past regularly take place) and so I just stood there like a complete retard, gawping at everything.

I was a bit skeptical too, that I was in the correct building. I mean, this was supposed to be the Biochemistry and Microbiology building. I imagined a modern steel and glass building with the latest technologies installed. Including lifts. I was not expecting a place that looked like it could belonged to the 60s era.

When I came back to my senses, I realized that the caucasian man got into the lift and the doors were about to close. There were still a wide gap between the doors so I made an attempt to run and jump into the lift.

Apparently I miscalculated and almost got my face squashed. The caucasian man noticed what I was trying to do and through that small gap, I saw him jabbing furiously at the buttons. I thought he was opening the doors for me but no, the lift doors closed and went on to its destination.

What the……

I was not really angry, just annoyed. I mean it was partially my fault to make my entry so late. And since these lifts were OLD, maybe it couldn’t react fast and open it time. Or maybe that guy didn’t like sharing lifts. Whatever it was, I got into another lift and as I pressed the floor number button, I took a quick glance and realized why that guy couldn’t open the lift doors.

There was no “Door Open” or “Open” buttons. Okay…. I saw a “Close” button but no “Open” button. And the buttons were really old, those black buttons where you push them into their sockets and they spring back out once you release them.

It took the lift a few, trundling minutes just to bring me from the second to the fourth floor. When I got out, I saw the man reading a map near the lifts. He glanced over and saw me and I saw his eyes widen and his body stiffened. I think it didn’t help that I was wearing my seriously-annoyed-look that made me looked seriously-pissed-off-that-I’m-going-to-kill-someone. I was irritated, not with the guy but with trying to find the damn room.

“I’m sorry, I mean the lifts, I mean the buttons, you know….”

“Oh, its okay,” I assured him. “Its all right.”

Then I gave him a big bright smile that would have done the Cheshire Cat proud.

Later, he headed off first after finding what he wanted on the map. At that time, I did at a feeling that he was also attending the briefing session. But I didn’t follow him and instead proceeded to try to find my room on the map. My room was listed as 417 but there was no 417 on the map. There were 410 to 419 but somehow, 417 wasn’t there at all. Frustrated, I started wandering around, only to realize that it was mostly laboratories around the floor.

I decided to head downstairs to the exit at the third floor, thinking that maybe the room was in another annex of the building. But when I got out and stood at the stairs of the exit, I was only looking at a large park with a pond in the middle. There was no building annex. Damn, I was going to be late for the briefing.

Maybe, I thought, it might be another room on the fourth floor. As I turned around to head back into the building, I saw a small notice pasted on the glass door:

“For the Daily Arrival Information Session, please proceed to Room 471.”

417.

471.

No wonder.

I felt like a total idiot. I knew where room 471 was. I saw it on the map and even worse, I walked past it a few times when I was searching for the non existent room 417. What I was looking for was under my nose all these while.

I scrambled upstairs, found the room and sneaked in while the briefing was going on. I saw the caucasian man from the earlier incident, sitting at the front row in one corner. So I made my way through the desk (eyes on me of course) and sat behind him. The man saw me and raised his eyebrows and made a face that seemed to say “So we’ve finally found the place after a long search”.

I grinned at him in reply.

The briefing was interesting especially the part on taxes, student card, transportation and insurance. Only did I realized that there was still a lot to be done. Sigh, so I’m not really settled down yet. One thing though, there was a lot of exchange students at the briefing. The girl sitting beside me, I suspected she was an American exchange student, judging from her accent. I could be wrong as my hearing for accents sucks. She could be Canadian, she could be European, who knows?

The man from before, he was a full-time student. I think post-graduate since he looks a lot older than me. Sounded American too. Or Canadian. But one thing I noticed about him was that he was quite fidgety. I don’t know whether that was from nervous excitement or mild stress or a habit but he kept moving around in his chair.

During the briefing, I learned that students would not get any concession fees for transportation in Sydney. Only overseas students on Australian scholarships and exchange students would get them. In fact, the ISSU advisor said that getting concession transportation fees was as good as winning the lottery. Why? It slashed transport fees by half. Which is a lot. As for the rest of us (like me), well, we just had to live with the unfairness.

But the advisor did add that there’s a lot of protest going on about this and she hoped that we would join the protest. Heck yeah, I am going to join, even if its my first protest. I mean, I walk around a lot, but I do have to take the metro and bus in the foreseeable future. So protest I would.

After the briefing, I wandered around the Student’s Union buildings for a while before heading back to my room to drop off all the information brochures and booklets. On the trip back, I realized that the Union’s buildings were not that far from my faculty and my lodgings. I also realized that I was walking in circles in the campus earlier in the morning. Really, FML.

Anyway, with a quick stop at home, I hopped onto a bus and headed to George Street. This is the only bus route I know and the only one I dare to take. I got off at the intersection near Goldburn Street and headed towards Sony Centre at World Square. Its camera buying time.

I’ve been to Sony Centre a few times and confirmed that they were selling the Sony camera at $159. So when I strolled into the shop, I knew what I wanted. All I needed was to get a salesperson’s attention.

I saw two salesmen but they were busy serving customers. So just to kill time, I browsed through the camera displays, pretending to look very interested in the range of product while eyeing my camera all the time. I got impatient after a few minutes when it looked like the two salesmen might be taking quite a while. So I headed into the computer and audio sections, only to find just one cashier and no salesperson.

Maybe it was during lunch hour so there were only two salesmen around. Maybe it was because in Singapore, most of the IT shops are usually crawling with salespeople. Whatever it was, I realized that I had to wait for one of the two to finishing serving the prior customers before attending to me. Luckily, the shop was mostly empty, so I didn’t expect a long wait.

True enough, a salesman came over to me a few minutes later after his previous customer failed to find what he wanted. Starting with the usual “how may I help you”, he scooted to me and waited for my reply.

I just pointed at my chosen camera and confirmed the price with him.

“Yes, its $159”, the salesman confirmed.

“Okay, I’ll have it.”

I’ll have to admit, the salesman didn’t look shocked that I made a spilt second decision. It was a long decision for me but from his point of view, it was a split second decision.

He strolled over to the computer terminal to look up on camera’s stocks when he dropped a bombshell.

“I’m sorry, but that camera is the last one. The only stock we have is the pink model.”

I was stunned. What? No more black? That one on display was the last one? Only pink? Of course, with reasonable specs and its reasonable price, the black model was sure to be sold like hot cakes.

Now, I have nothing against pink colour. I wore pink t-shirts and pink dress shirts before. But I draw the line of having to whip out a bright, candy-coloured pink camera every time I want to take a shot.

“Fine, I’ll take the display,” I told the salesman.

“Are you sure?”

“Yep,” I assured him.

As the salesman went towards the display, I started to prepare my very mediocre bargaining skills. Since I’m getting the display, might as well lower the price.

But a while later, the salesman came back empty handed. What, did the salesman change his mind? Was he going to force me to take the pink coloured model?

“Would you like me to get the black model from another store?” The salesman asked.

Oh, I didn’t expect that.

“Uhm, yeah, sure that’ll be great.”

“Ok, if you just write down your name and contact number, I’ll get the other store to transfer the camera here. I’ll call you when it’s ready for you to pick up.”

“Oh, okay, thanks,” I replied. While writing down my details, I was jumping for joy inside. Phew, I didn’t have to get a display camera or a pink coloured one.

I paid up and collected the receipt and was told that the camera might be ready the next day. Today’s the day but my phone ran out of battery this morning and I might have missed the call. So tomorrow I’ll be going down to collect my new Sony camera. Finally, I can take some pictures.

After paying up, I wandered through World Square. I was getting very, very hungry. My measly breakfast of some cornflakes and milk couldn’t sustained me through the day. I decided to go to the open air food court at the upper ground floor and could not have chosen a worse timing.

It was lunch hour and the whole crowd of office people descended upon the food court.

But then it was not as crowded and packed as food courts in Singapore during lunch hour. Maybe it was because the food court was in the open and less people fancy eating out in the cold. But I was cooped up in the my room the past few days and needed some winter air, so I chose to eat in the cold. Beside, the weather was fine and sunny, the temperature was just nice enough to enjoy a hot meal. So that sealed the deal.

I was indecisive about what to eat. I didn’t want to eat Korean food because I had been eating mostly Korean food the one week my parents were here. Furthermore, I didn’t want to eat Japanese food because I didn’t had the appetite for it. So that boiled down to Western or Indian.

But the Western food served mostly sandwiches, burgers or bagels. I had been eating PB & J sandwiches or Marmite sandwiches for dinner the previous week and didn’t want to eat another sandwich again. So Indian it was. I paid $9.90 for a big plate of rice with 3 types vegetarian curries and devour it.

Ah…. rice and curries…. finally after one week.

While eating my Indian cuisine, I realized how much I missed briyani and eating it with my hand. Nasi Briyani……

At the same time, I had some interesting people watching. I realized how majority of the office people wear almost all black. Black jacket, black pants, black shoes, black ties. Same goes for the women, black jacket, shoes, skirt, dress….

I know its winter and they are working people but can’t they just spice up their dress sense a bit? Especially the guys, I would have thought I was in the Matrix with Agent Smith if it were not for the Indians who coloured the place with their pastel shirts and colourful acrylic sweater vests. I’m not a big fan of those acrylic sweater vests but at least these people wore some colours, instead of black, navy-blue or white.

So after lunch, I headed back to my neighbourhood. I decided not to take the bus since it was only a 15 to 20 minutes walk and I need to digest my very carbohydrated lunch.

I went to Harris Farm supermarket at Broadway Shopping Centre, just opposite my hostel to do some grocery shopping. This place is truly the place to buy fresh produce. My second cousin brought me here and told me that Harris Farm had connections with the farmers and so most of the produce here were very cheap. If you’re not those people that eat veggies or fruits, then this is of no relevance to you.

How cheap is cheap? Well, I bought 2kg of big bananas and it cost me only $5.58. These were not those small little bananas. They were big, I think almost twenty inches in lenght.

By the way, stop thinking about phallic thoughts.

I bought 1kg of tomatoes that cost me $1.87. They were not small either. They were big (one of them the size of my fist) and very, very fiery red (which means very ripe and contains a high level of beta-carotene). I also bought two cucumbers that weighted 1kg each. Those two cost me $3.98.

Yep, its that cheap.

The only thing that wasn’t cheap were almonds. I like almonds but it cost almost 9 bucks for just 500 grams. In Singapore, I could have got it for only 4.50. Weird, it seems like almonds its expensive here.

After that bit of grocery shopping, I went back to my room, stocked up my fridge and then went down to do borrow the vacuum machine.

The day before (Sunday), I did some housework and cleaned, dusted and wiped my room. I even scrub the toilet bowl. I was very bored and had too much free time. Anyway, that night, after all the housework was done (it didn’t take me very long, I have very few furniture), I scattered baking soda on my carpeted floor.

No, I’m not insane. Go google up baking soda uses and you’ll know.

One thing I dislike about my room is the carpet floor. I have nothing against carpets, as long as it is confined to my sleeping area and living area.

But my room has carpet floor right up to my small dining table (unused) and the kitchenette. This is where it really irritates me. You know sometimes you prepare your food, there’s a tendency for crumbs to spill, liquids to splash about and other accidents. If it was a normal floor, fine, you just wipe it up. But it it was a carpet floor, that is where the big headache come in.

For crumbs, you can’t really do anything except brush and vacuum the place. For spills, that is a major problem. Thankfully, I haven’t spill anything yet and I am hoping not too. But yes, I hate the carpet floor around my kitchenette.

Anyway, I sprinkled baking soda and left it there overnight. So the next day, which was yesterday, I vacuumed up the place and was left with nice clean carpet. It took me a while because some ass choke up the pipe with carpet fibers, human hair and what nots and could not be bothered to clean it out before returning the vacuum machine.

Yesterday was quite eventful, compared to my usual slothful days. Today, I’m back to my slothful ways since I had nothing on. But in the coming days, there’ll be lots of stuff to keep me occupy. Finally.

I might be going to Blue Mountains to visit a friend and do some sight seeing on Thursday. I’ll be there overnight and will head back to Sydney on Friday evening. But that is not confirmed yet.

Orientations start next week. Looking forward to that after almost two weeks of being in exile. But I’m definitely not looking forward to classes. I have a feeling I am going to fail the first six months after 3 years of not studying. Even the ISSU advisor said the the first six months is usually the toughest period and is common for students to fail. Uh-oh…….

I just got 9 overdue messages from my phone when I was writing this. One was from my second cousin inviting me for lunch last Saturday. It is now Tuesday. WTH.