Thursday, December 31, 2009

The Kite Song Girl

Two years ago, I was blessed to intern for Dr Gerald Koh, Asst/Professor of then Department of Occupational and Family Medicine(since renamed dept. of epidemiology). The job provided me with renewed inspiration to pursue medicine, as well as new role model and inspiration in the Prof about what a Doctor should be. However, that is a story for another day, what is more significant is that his set of a chain of very interesting events. I interned for the Prof during the month of December, so he was nice enough to give me a book called Kite Song. It was written by a then second year medical Student named Tan Wai Jia who was a missionary raising money for an orphanage in Nepal. It was an inspirational story about a little girl and her kite, unfortunately I have since embarrassingly misplaced the book so I cannot properly recall the plot. I won't because I don't want to embarrass myself further, but it had very cute pictures.

Two years later, I was having lit tuition with Ben at the National Library, we were in the middle of discussing one of my failed attempts to conjure up a GP essay(I was unskilled then, however I have since resolved that deficit) when an old man suddenly appeared and commented on my copy of Great Expectations strewn upon the table. He was delighted that some of the young were still taking delight in the joys of literary classics. He introduced himself as Hideo Asano, he was a homeless wondering author and poet who travelled the world writing stories and poems, living on generosity and sleeping in airports. Naturally, that was the end of our literature lesson and we offered him a seat. He is an interesting man, a japanese who speaks very fluent English and distances himself from his cultural heritage for their lack of individuality due to their constricting systems. We talked about mostly about philosophy and literature and then we parted ways. I went home that night, and I googled him in hopes of checking his authencity and out of curiousity(how often does one get accosted by a homeless wandering philosopher?) and that is when I stumbled upon her blog.

It turns out that Wai Jia had also met Hideo a year before and had blogged about it in her, blog. Her posts greatly intrigued me, they deal with the struggles she faces in life, balancing God, mission, school and many other things, unlike the bland uninspired blogs of most young people, and she overcomes them in a most inspirational way. Naturally, I was also delighted to discover that there are other people out there who blog long essays like me and so I have followed her since then. (You should too, I never fail to be taken in by her entries.)

Flash forward to 2009, I had fortunate opportunity to acquire some money without prior work. I found $50 on the floor of the loading bay at camp one morning, and living with a bunch of crooks, I realized that I wouldn't be able to return it to the rightful owner, so I decided that I would donate it. A week later, after Mass, I was caught with my grandparents in the middle of the large downpour, I offered to run to the car and get umbrellas, I am the impatient sort and didn't really want to wait until the rain stopped. So I ran them, got soaked and retrieved the two umbrellas from the car and returned. I gave on to grandpa to bring grandma to shelter and I used to other to help ferry the other poor stranded souls from the porch to the other building. In reward, my grandmother gave me(or forced into my hand) $50, which I knew I couldn't keep for myself, so I decided to donate this as well. And as fate would have it, Wai Jia had recently blogged about Alisha, a deaf nepalese girl who needed a cochlear implant and whom Wai Jia had taken out the mountain of a task to raise funds for. I also thought I would help her financially with Zhou Yeh Yeh, a basker who she is very close to and whose medical bills she pays, as she was broke and I felt she deserved a break. This, I decided would be where I would place the money that was entrusted to me.

I did and was delightfully surprised when asked me if I'd like to meet for a repast. And so begins my story for the evening. This is the longest introduction I have ever written, and pardon me for my verbiage, I just didn't see any way I could fully explain the story. And so now the story actually begins.

Its a very special experience to meet some inspirational up close and personal, it's very different from reading their works. They have an effect on you whether you know it or not. The meal took place a few weeks ago, and as I said, it was an experience. How often does someone agree to meet stranger for a meal? I must say I was rather nervous and excited. All those questions were flooding my mind, what sort of person is she really? What does she look like? What does she talk like? Luckily, I wasn't the only person with those thoughts. She admitted later to having the impression that I was a tall skinny(I wish)nerdy weird kid with purple shoes right out of one those civics and moral education textbook that they have since removed from the primary school syllabus. We met and and exchanged greetings and a handshake and proceeded to look for dinner, finally settling on the food court at Funan mall owing to a mutual lack of funds and no desire to eat junk food.

As I said earlier, inspirational people have an effect on you, as we walked to Funan, she stopped to make conversation with two people selling tissue paper outside the MRT station's exit. They were members of St. Andrew's Cathedral. She inquired about another one, an Uncle Andrew, whom I would meet later. I remember being very awed by how easily she did it. These are the people that thousands of businessmen and corporate women walk past everyday, men and women leaders in their fields, yet how many of them would have the courage to stop and do what she does? Of course you could say they would brush it off as beneath them, but in truth it's out of their comfort zone. I would know, I'm amongst those people who have yet to step out of that zone.

Its interesting how a small act can really brighten these people's lives. The money is a necessity but its the kindness that lifts them. I could see they were quite happy to talk to her. I wonder how many people talk to them? And she tries to do this with every one of them she meets. You can see why I was quite taken aback. I guess that it's something that I would like to work on. Its a duty as a Christian to help the rest of God's children. I can talk on about pro-life, but how pro-life would I be if I allowed these people to starve on the street, when a small donation would help them?

And it wasn't just her generosity and kindness that amazed me, she had the ability to see God's hand working in her life, I, being the blind fool, honestly wouldn't have seen any of the connections that she brought up. She said that it was God that allowed us to meet, that he had 'taken [my] good deed and multiplied it into another'. It reminded me of the parable of the Talents. If you use what talents God has given you, he will multiply even them more. That is what happened to the first two servants. Alas, there is a third servant, who buried his single talent in the ground, and when the master returned, the servant was punished for wasting the talent when he could have at least put in the bank for interest. All my life, I have and I think many of us as well have been caught up with identifying with the third servant. Afraid that we are not living up to standards, wasting our God given talents. We have inadvertently fallen into a trap, and in doing so have ended selfishly burying our talents into the ground to be friends with worms. In identifying with the third servant and in our desire to avoid the master's castigation, we have become him. I think it also extends to not giving the master appropriate credit. After all, the talents were from him. This is what happened to me here, I was blind to his hand, and because of them I couldn't give him the praise that is his. I guess even if you invest the talents and make returns, it doesn't help if you bury them in the ground and do not return them to the master.

Maybe, I'm rambling a bit. Synapses firing in their disconnected ADHD way again. I'm not sure, but I was really touched that night, because I had also been praying for a while, to see God in my life more, and I was granted that. Thank you Wai Jia, I can now see God working in my life more evidently now and thank you for the lessons you continue to teach people.

A Quiet Christmas.

A year ago, I was conscripted into slavery abroad the machine known as... well you know what is. It still sounds like a local militia than an all powerful army, no matter how you attempt to glorify it. A year ago, I was robbed of my Christmas. I spent the entire advent in camp, amidst secularity and the inefficiency of the whole system, I couldn't adequately prepare for the great Feast of the Nativity, and I must say that I suffered a poor spiritual Christmas. All this probably added to low morale I felt throughout all of basic training. Most of all, I didn't have enough time to be with the people I cared for. I felt really lonely.

One year on, and despite being in a more retarded and inefficiently run course than basic training, I have since recovered from my depression and I have had a most enjoyable year. This time I made the resolve to prepare spiritually for advent, though I didn't really achieve what I set out to, it is a marked improvement from last year. Also, the week of medical leave following the excision of Bob, my uvula, from my throat helped things greatly.

To be honest, I didn't receive many gifts this year and I didn't receive anything material that I went 'wow' about. I was given a few CDs, a polo, a lovely pair of shoes and a shoe bag. I can't actually recall a time in my life where people actually got me something that made me jump for joy in appreciation. That probably means, people don't know me well enough to shop for me. Which is okay, I am admittedly a difficult child to profile. Though, I am long past the childhood stage of desiring to be given lots of material things during Christmas, gifts, or the idea of gift giving is very important to me.

You see, gifts are a very important thing in society. They are form a recognition. You give someone a gift in order to recognize their significance in your life. Society plays this up to a much larger formal extent, award ceremonies are held and recognition in the form awards are given to individuals in front of the whole society. So, gifts are our little ways of remembering the ones near and dear to us. Which is why the choice of the gift is always important, and should always be thoughtfully chosen and carefully selected for the needs or wants of the recipient. Hence, knowing the recipient is important. The better you know the recipient, the better you should be able to chose a gift for the person. Hence, I feel it is really sad when gift giving becomes a routine chore, for example at Christmas time. We have lists of people that we need to buy gifts for, and not want to buy or make gifts for. In our haste to clear the list, along with the mindless secular shopping that goes on along with this season, we end up just buying things thoughtlessly. Do not get me wrong, I am not being ingrateful, I am very thankful for the gifts I have received, particularly that I am remembered at all, however this is the standard at which I hold gift giving, and yes it is a strain to think of people carefully, but I feel it makes the gift all that more special, it makes the relationship all that more special.

There is another thing I realized about gifts, they don't always need be material. If you count the non-material gifts that I've received this Christmas, then I am very richly blessed. And yes, I do count these gifts. Particularly, the gift of your time.

As I said, I don't receive many 'official' gifts during Christmas, I don't have that many close enough friends. Also, my friends are all the non-working type, so I don't expect much, though I do expect myself to remember these people, even if it taxes me financially. So due to the course this year, I was temporally in deficit and I completely had forgotten about Christmas shopping until the eve of Christmas, but I realized that I had traded more gifts than I had any other Christmas this year. I had the probably one of the most valuable ones. That of time. Every moment that I was out, I spent it with friends and family as much as possible. I think that was the best gift to receive, those moments can never disappear now, because I will remember the fun that we had, the dialogue that went on, the catching up and the laughter, oh and the zombies. I think that was the one thing during Advent that I fulfilled, I spent time with friends and family, building stronger bonds. I met new ones too.

This year was quiet, possibly because of slavery, possibly because I had no parties to attend. Though it was rather quiet itself on Christmas day, the days that afore that and that followed were filled with activities.

I had already met up with Gerald, my ex-boss, who is one of the most inspirational doctors out there. I had a made a new friend, a very blessed and inspirational girl named Wai Jia, who raises lots of money to help orphans in Nepal and is in fourth year of medical school, I can't really decide which she does in her spare time. Jonathan was brought back from the airport, and the zombies once again feared us. I caught Sherlock Holmes with the aforementioned best friend and Marie, Michelle and Justin. It is wonderful to have such a lovely extended family. I caught Mr Holmes again(because it is so good, you must go watch NOW) with the other extend family of RCIY. Alone with a great RCIY dinner. We celebrated my brother and sister's birthdays. Snuck in a much needed latin lesson. I caught the Bowen in between his extras. Christmas dinner and lunch with the two sides of the family. The list is endless, well not really, however I am beginning to sound like a teenage schoolgirl which is quite appalling. I have so much to thank God for this Christmas. I would also like to thank the aforementioned for the most precious gift of time which you have most graciously provided me with.

You can never have enough laughter. Thank you.

Felix dies nativitatis Iesus Christi
Christus natus est! Glorificate eum!

For the earlier

I apologize for the bad writing in the previous post. I actually wrote the article while in camp and upon rewriting it on the computer, I realised the great error with that decision. Please pardon all the grammatical errors and the dreadful sentence structure of the first few paragraphs. Clearly laziness is the root of all this and I will try my best to avoid penning essays in camp again.

Lessons.

Three weeks ago, bible study was cancelled and we were asked to help out with a selling things to raise funds for Kenyan children. The whole things was arranged by Aunty P and Aunty J, but Aunty J was hospitalised and so Aunty V took over and hence the Youth rockers were asked to help. Well, we were only plural because two of us turned up.

Anyway, I don't know what is about me that moved me to burn the entire morning to sell unsuspecting parishioners Kenyan beads and overpriced bars of Hershey's. To be truthful, poverty is not really high on my list of things to champion. This, I am quite ashamed to admit. Poverty is probably the easiest social issue for anyone to take up and do something about. I don't need to quote GP and stats for anyone to figure that out. In fact, the poor are always under our noses! When was the last time you stopped to buy tissue paper from the beggar at the MRT station or along the underpass or while walking down the street?

Chances are, it's been a while. I only know two people who do it personally, and neither are myself, though I am hoping that will change. The point is, I wouldn't be the person organising this sort of charity event. So why was I there along? I guess God wanted to make use of my charm for raising funds and to teach me something as well. I think I really learned something that day.

1. I am amazed at the generosity of St. Ignatians, I really didn't expect them to donate more than was necessary for a bar of overpriced Hershey's for their children, yet they surprised me in more ways than one. One lady pushed a wad of fifties into collection box, while many others gave a fifty and refused the change(the bars were $5). It was amazing. What was more amazing were the children. Aunty V gave them little bookmarks with charming face of Mtoto, a five year old boy and little inscription that $2 could feed Mtoto for 4 lunches. They ran back to their parents and either brought back lunch money for Mtoto or their parents to provide lunch money for him. I felt that they sincerely wanted to help provide food for Mtoto, because I hadn't told them about the chocolate yet, and I was quite pleased to see their elated expressions when presented with a bar, granted Mummy allowed it. Positive reinforcement working at its best, altruism provides good feelings. Now they'll probably keep at it and hopefully when they're older they'll understand the profoundness of their little acts of human kindness.

That wasn't the most amazing part, it was when some of the children(btw they were all in primary school) took out their own wallets and gave their own money. I felt so bad, because as an NSF, and as a student before that and student to be, I know what it's like to barely have enough money to last a week or month and yet here these primary school children were using their very precious pocket money to buy Mtoto and other Kenyans food. I was hoping they would ask their parents for money or something and it is these feelings that I commented in passing to Aunty only to surprisingly receive a censuring. She said, 'We mustn't stop the little ones from receiving graces in heaven. When they donate, they will go hungry in school for a day and they will learn something about poverty. They will understand the plight of the poor.'

I was rather taken aback. Two things rang like alarm bells in my head, the first was the verse 'let the little ones come to me.'. In my desire not to inconvenience the little ones, I had inadvertently almost repeated the apostles' good intention. I was denying them from getting closer to Christ. I was also denying them indulgences. Of course, I changed my course of mind completely, and following this epiphany, went about directly asking and hoping the children would make sacrifices of themselves. Children are wonderful things aren't they?

The second thing I realized was that I was denying them a valuable lesson about sacrifice(if Mummy and Daddy didn't intervene to help them). Like Aunty V mentioned, going hungry for a day would allow them to learn the feelings of Kenyans, of all the poor and those in poverty, who go through malnourished days wondering when their next real meal would be. Often times, it isn't even a proper meal. In some small way, they would soon have a spot for the poor in their hearts, thus prompting them, I hope, to repeat the altruism again.

2. The second thing I learned was something interesting Aunty P said to me, 'So you want to be a doctor? That's very good my dear. I shall pray for you to become a doctor. No. I shall pray that it is WITHIN God's plan that you become a doctor.'

It got me thinking, I've thought about it before, and as always when some statement such as this does, cause you to review the thread of thought. It is a rather dream-breaking thought for anyone who has a dream that he has yet to materialise:

What if God doesn't want me to be a doctor?

It is a rather depressing thought for me, because I sincerely do not believe that I will be as contented or challenged doing anything else. And to all who think I have a one track mind, I have toyed with other career ideas, but none don't fit as well, none balance my great love for science and logical reasoning with the curiousity of the creature called Man, and my desire to heal his ailments. Yet what if that isn't what God wanted me to do. If I resisted, could I still make it to medical school? Would I never make it? Would I be happy? Will I ever make it since I've been sidetracked so long and the road is still dark and winding? What am I supposed to do. A million other queries brush aside any logical answer that quells the previous few.

All I know is that God has a plan for us, and I have made the choice to place my life in his hands, so I hope that what I desire is part of his plan. I also know that he only gives me a cross that is light enough for me to carry without my back breaking, so that I will learn lessons and skills in order to carry out his will. I guess that is in essence what Aunty P's words meant, that I will do the best I can and leave the rest up to God, and if it doesn't work, to move on and find my true purpose. I just hope I won't ever have to give up this dream.