Photo Friday: Travel Often

Photo from : http://shop.holstee.com/pages/about


Was at a work client's place last month and I saw this poster in their meeting room, while waiting.

Somehow, I felt that some of the words jumped out at me. It did help that they were in a bigger font. It's really meaningful if you take your time to read the words slowly to kill time.

I was so sure that I had found the love of my life last year.
But it's 2013, and things have changed, like the passing wind. I read the words: 'If you are looking for the love of your life, stop. They will be waiting for you when you start doing things you love.' I have started going on journeys, and I hope that somewhere along the timeline, in fact, I don't hope, I just know, that this phrase will ring true.

Voila, I will 'travel often'. As much as it takes with the limited time and money I have; and not too much that I feel disenchanted - that does happen, at times. I have met a nice, incredibly sweet, strong, cuddly person.
It's 2013, after all. Let's see what happens...=)

Unencumbered

 
Lately, I have made a little effort to keep up on my language ambitions. After having missed the french film festival that ran for a week here, I decided to do what I have done previously when I was in an earlier relationship, go to the video king rental and take out some french films, just that now I watch it by myself. I remember that all through the late teenage years and early twenties we all went to see french films in the cinemas. So it was with fond memories that I browsed through the small collection of foreign language titles. Actually I was really surprised that the video king rental shop had not closed down, I thought that no one else would be renting DVDs these days. It is quite expensive, but I think paying for it and having a limited time frame to watch them changes the way I make the selection of the shows I would like to watch. I take more time to look at the choices of the plot, the actors and the directors, and also the place where it is shot. So I have just watched 'The Artist' (Jean DuJardin), 'L'Immortelle' (Jean Reno), 'Beautiful Lies' (Audrey Tatou), 'He loves me he loves me not' (Audrey Tatou). Being half the price of a movie in the cinema, I make this time a solitary, single enjoyment, savoring macarons or my favorite red velvet cake bought from the bakery just a few doors down from video king rental. I'm sure that through osmosis of some sort, french words have crept into my long-term memory already.

And I messaged Julien, about my new-old hobby. He too watched L'Immortelle on the same weekend, after I gushed about the scenes in Marseille, and although it wasn't a big deal, I felt that it was a sweet gesture, that it was almost like watching it together. I remember when we were on the white rocky paths of Marseilleveyre, a dry hilly place covered with white rocks, and I couldn't walk well. For one, I had never been used to walking on rocky paths, or pathless paths where you found yourself evaluating each footstep. The strange thing that was when I returned, I felt that the ground was too flat and now, more than a month later, I still take the staircase from the MRT platform to the main gantry area, I still prefer to walk on grass patches instead of concrete. How strange, that my legs would prefer non-flat paths after a lifetime of walking on them.

He never teased me the way I would him, almost mercilessly, if I spotted something he could not do well that I excelled at. I lamented at the fact that I was so slow on those paths and so many people passed me by. It isn't a competition, he said to encourage me. I felt so small.To think that I thought quite highly of myself for walking home almost everyday from the main MRT station, a good 25 minutes' walk to my doorstep, a feat that would raise most Singaporean eyebrows. It was this sense of a matter-of-fact humility and 'non-competitiveness', two traits I had always appreciated but never embraced, that drew me to him. It was this feeling of just being at ease with the world and at ease with yourself, with being the way you are, that grabbed me as I found myself failing to walk further, and for the last final steps stumbled my way through while holding on to his coattails for dear life. I really admire people who can push themselves to learn something new in three months, a new sport, a new language, and while I tried my utmost to do it too, I think there's nothing wrong in taking my own time and learning something else along the way. I have always been too impatient and with the passing of time I hope that I realize sometimes time can be a friend. Being in love, for one, needs the realisation of time to illuminate what we need to know. When I returned from Marseille, a trip I had many reservations about making in the first place, it seemed that something would blossom between us, but it also seemed impossible at the same time.

I wanted to write about so many things, it seems that every now and then I get this influx of words caught in my thoughts, and writing out what I could not be able to speak coherently of, just seems to make it all better inside. How do I write about the kind of adventures I've been on, and remembering fondly the friends, some, very handsome men, who have been on these journeys with me. Yet I have had no romantic allusions, and neither did they. It is friendship of the purest sort, positive, healthy, meaningful ones I've always seemed to have (with handsome men!) throughout my life. And few people understand this, that I can have such close friendships, spending extended time together, talking, sharing a drink, sharing life experiences, yet never even crossing the line of being more than friends. I wanted to write about why I travel, something that this year I've taken as almost a birthright, it was only after someone asked me if I was traveling like a gap year of sorts that I realised that I was doing it so often, and the feeling of being tired but refreshed at the same time, the feeling of coming home and feeling happy once your feet touch the carpeting on the Changi Airport's floor, the euphoria when, several days later, I find that the film I have carried so carefully around with me developed into interesting, if not amazing photos. We do not know how lucky we are to carry this passport that enables us to go into most countries without paying a high fee or applying for a visa, it seems such a waste to do the same thing every weekend when for the almost the same amount of money we spend here we can take a weekend to somewhere else.

Despite having been born in this crowded city all my life, I think I crave a life someplace else from the madness. More recently, at the end of last year on the last day of my job, I found myself booking a flight to Penang and wanted to travel the Penang-Kuala Lumpur-Melaka-Singapore route, slowly, as I've always wanted to do. I ended up staying in Melaka for 10 days, the duration not part of the initial plan. People always wonder what I did every day in 'boring' Melaka. Boring? It's idyllic to wake up to the fresh air and the sounds of birds chirping, walking to the nearest kopi shop to eat my standard breakfast of soft kaya bread and half-boiled eggs. Everywhere else in Asia, the typical breakfast is a bowl of soupy noodles of some sort, call me Western but I just cannot stomach such fare for breakfast! People always ask what I did every day to make me stay there for so long. I think I did more there than I could do in the same time in Singapore. I wanted to do something creative, so I persuaded the owner of a clay house to teach me pottery on a kiln. I gave up on that rather fast. That was backbreaking work. Never again would I look at a piece of handmade pottery the same way. Then the owner of a second hand bookshop introduced me to the owner of a cafe who kindly gave me a long driftwood to paint, and all his oil paints.

Later I was given a canvas by a retiree from Penang and suprised even myself by staying around to complete the painting - oil painting takes an excruciatingly long time to paint and dry and basically I was so busy in Melaka, really, every day I woke up early in the morning to paint, take a walk around in the afternoon, and the days just passed.

I was looking for a place close to this setting, where you really could live happily not going in to any mall and eat the same thing and just feel glad walking the not-so-crowded streets. It's a strange dream that I had, that I never told anyone, I wanted to live in a place where there are mountains and seas; while in Chiangmai with Sergio, we walked out of the city gates to eat dinner along this stretch of restaurants and cafes having non-Thai food, Chiangmai food is too spicy to eat enjoyably for me. And there would be the mountains in the horizon as we crossed the road and as we ate we could see the evening sun turn to dusk.

Each time I saw those mountains I thought to myself, how lucky I would be to be able to see mountains everyday.

I wondered for months what Marseille would be like, because after I was able to save a little and plan for trips two, three months in advance and book the ticket without serious repercussions, I had wisely saved money by booking Chiangmai in advance, two months before, and Marseille in August when I was going in November. Huge savings there. Although it seems that every month a part of my salary now goes to booking a ticket to somewhere. This month, it's Penang. Well, lucky for me that I don't have any other expensive hobbies except photography! Marseille wasn't that different as I had expected, the kind of culture shock you feel immediately like I did when I landed in other Asian destinations, that, this place is so different from what you are used to. Marseille felt familiar, as if I had been there before, even though it was my first time to Europe. Later, I griped about how there weren't any toilets to be found EVER, and marveled at their innovative trashbins, which was just a large transparent plastic bag attached by a thick band,to a metal rim. Such a good idea. Most of all, Marseille made me feel that I could be a better person, if just a little better. Because seeing the Mediterranean sea that stretches out forever everyday, coupled with the too vividly blue skies that is the type of sky you can only imagine in fantasy, seeing these everyday, with the smell of fresh bread everywhere, hearing the sound of waves, this is paradise.

You discover that the everyday things on your to-do or to-get-done list in Singapore doesn't really matter anymore when you can have a slice of bliss just sitting at a cafe, having the most delicious croissant for breakfast, with coffee, facing the ocean, and nothing beyond. If I ever have the opportunity to live there, I will make the best of the simple moments that are so sublime.

And perhaps this year, the lessons learnt add up to make me a better person after all. I've tried not to overbuy stuff, a wasteful nature I've inherited from city living where everything is so accessible. Little things, like actually using a lipgloss until the last swipe. This may sound insignificant but it is challenging, as it's really tempting to buy new lipglosses... Planning a little bit on travel in advance. Not spending too much on taxi - an essential to meet clients - and also Starbucks, I try to only drink mocha on Fridays, and switch to healthier, cheaper options like fruit juices. I did book swops, went to second-hand bookstores, not buy any books until I've finished reading all the ones I have (same for clothes!) There are some things I really enjoy that I can't help spending on, nice cheese, macarons - they are expensive! A good tuina massage once a month for the neckaches. Treating friends for lunch. Facials to ensure I still look 25.

I realized I am quite easygoing and while I am not all shiny bubbly happy, I am not the worrisome type, nor the overtly critical, though at times I can be both. 

Last Christmas, I found myself going on a strange journey that seemed to be out of a dream. There was dancing and hugging and crying and taking frantic bus rides. While this year's proves to be more mundane - I am actually in Singapore after years of not being here, I will enjoy my quiet day, snuggling alone, watching my last DVD in my stash. I think I will enjoy a quiet day for once, and possibly get up to doing something useful, for once!

Close to 400

It was the playlist that did me in, the playlist on youtube I had created.

Xandra Garsem, a young argentine youtube singer, and her spanish songs. It was the memory of love, a love I have had, a love that inspires me to love even now. Even now, I have what superstitous chinese people call 'peach-blossom luck'. More often than not, there is one random guy besotted with me and it does not help that I am situated in a building full of young males from all over the globe. At any given time you can see all sorts of rakish looking, fashionably dressed men in that warehouse looking building. It does not help that I really don't expect anything from these men, some so fresh-faced I would like to adopt them as sons.

I am on a long trip, possibly the farthest I've ever been in my life, and possibly the last, this year, unless by some miracle I have the funds to travel again, and also the opportune moment to have 'leave approved' in my two-month old new job. 'Leave Approved By Manager' emails are possibly the most joyful ones in my inbox, lately the others are CVs from people from all over the region flocking to this island, looking for jobs the way every male in every country used to do in times of economic depression, travel up and down the coast until they landed something, sailing, picking cherries, whatever. These days it's the IT consultants role that don't really care about the color of your skin or the language you speak, mostly, as long as you can speak in C++, PHP, CSS...et cetera.

I don't really understand Spanish, nor Czech, nor all the other languages I've tried to learn from the travelers I've met, and the travels I've been on. A smattering of Japanese, in our schooldays we were all crazy about J-pop and the crazier ones kept at it and became really fluent. A little bit of local languages, some Malay, Indonesian, enough to ask for directions or order food politely. A little Thai; because, Thai is not that difficult to learn by ear.

I know how to count in Polish one to ten and through listening, can tell which Eastern European language a person is speaking, Russian, Polish, or Czech. I learnt a hungarian tongue twister and a norwegian one; of which I can still remember the nuances of. These people still remember me fondly because I am a part of their travel memories, one which they had saved up for months before to travel halfway round the world for, before the rest of their lives went on - going into military (Norwegian), doing further studies (Polish), graduating and starting their longtime career (German/just about everyone else).

In the playlist I had created almost 6 months ago, there were spanish songs covered by the lovely Xandra.

She sung of love and loss and desolation, mournful tunes to her spanish (argentine) guitar. To this effect, Chinese pop songs are totally similar to spanish 'classics'. Lately it seems to be the trend to have a rapper 'rapping', interposed, in both Spanish and Chinese songs, at some juncture where you least expect it. I have to admit I felt sorrowful, and I felt bad being so, because I knew that the love I had at that point in my timeline was something almost forbidden, for many reasons neither of us were able to talk about it, me being at a really low time in my life, he being the strong and silent type, and we both provided each other with some sort of comfort at the very least, at least, I hope I did. The sorrowful part was that we were just not meant to be, the kind of love you needed at that point but almost immediately realized that we were just not on each other's roadmap. It's a painful, hard truth, to realize that, because in every woman's heart lies the desire not just to have fun but also to be accepted on so many levels, and we had only the most positive of things for each other, not fraught with the negativities that sometimes come from loving a damaged soul. And truth be told, we would both have hated each other had we ended up as lifelong partners.

But also, it was not just a fling or something we did not take seriously, and I think the best part of it is that I would always remember the part where we just treated each other with utmost concern. To this day I tell him every trip - as he is a workaholic he would never have traveled like I did, or could travel the way I did, in essence, when I am coming home, crossing the border, I would text him and he would always say welcome back with enthusiasm, my homeboy.

Sometimes you think about the way things are, and how you managed it, you think about the goals people tell you about and wondered if they managed to achieve it one year later. And how would we know, if they never wrote it down or blasted it out on some social media? Perhaps writing helps, them to hope that there is someone who remembers, someone with an elephant memory who remembers you said you wanted to do this, you wanted to finish this, and now you are in the midst of completing your journey, taking photos of the journey to immortalize it like a happy tropical travel memory; not knowing that because I cared, I still look for you and inspite of circumstances hope that you are happy.

And for me, it's almost 400 days since I started this journey that changed my life in ways I never thought possible. I am thankful because despite your troubles, I remember that you are going to change my life forever, and I would still choose it to happen exactly the way it had.

Don't worry... ... ...?

I met someone whom I vaguely knew in my past spheres, recently, again.

He turned out to be an incredibly decent and positive person, insightful on the certain matters I loved discussing at length about with him, and was a welcome companion to some of the events I attend. In short, I very much liked the space the two of us inhabited in our minds.

Being highly intelligent about social behavior, he managed to radiate welcoming signals into the intuitive hyperspace and always could allure both species from opposing genders.

Or else, he was just approachable looking. I'm truly amazed at the number of people who just came up to him and handed over their namecards.

We became close in the course of 2 weeks. To him, it was perhaps frightening, stepping into my world, where I was always horribly asking him questions about what he thinks and feels. To me, I have always felt like the girl in the television series 'big bang theory', so, I'm quite used to geeky guys. Still, he observed my surprised look when he identified himself as a programmer and raised his hand during one of the sessions, 'I'm a programmer'. (How can you identify yourself as a programmer when you were one years ago, tsk tsk.)

We became perhaps too close for his comfort, once after an intense social chat session, he told me he was not single. Oops. Oh dear. (Awkward!)

I started by typing, 'don't worry, I'm not out to...'
And then I didn't know what to say. What should I say, in this situation, that he looks a lot like someone I love very much, but I'm not projecting the same kind of fuzzy feelings on him, and also that I'm immensely grateful for him being around, just luxuriating in the bliss of being able to spend hours with a person I can talk to...that would sound incredibly sinister.

So, don't worry....?

Don't worry, I'm not looking for a ring for my finger? (Scary creepy...)

Don't worry, I'm not wanting to hook-up with you? (But please don't worry, you are still an appealing person.)

Don't worry, I will definitely not fall in love with you. (Oh God!)

So, in the end, I said brightly on the social chat network:

Don't worry, you are my new best friend! (Ummmm...friendzoned)

I became hypersensitive and overwrought with anxiety thinking about MY feelings over the course of the next few days. Am I treating him as a replacement for my insert-the-word-here? Gosh I even dreamt about him once! Be it friend, lover, or something in between the lines...did I ever consider the possibility... ...helppp.

I never felt lonely too much, and I know that he doesn't too, and that's why I probably thought that he could be the magical one to fulfil my need of, I don't know, a temporary friend who will just positively support me through the small things, because, we both know that this is a temporary arrangement of sorts, until he finds a job here or elsewhere - and gets super busy, workaholic style. And now possibly is the right time to walk into my life, because I am always smiling, I love where I am at, and where I'm going to, I've had many adventures, and these months is probably the season where I just am in happy and undisturbed chillax mode, a fresh time of reckoning compared to those doleful horrid months that made up almost the entire part of the first half of the year. I still have problems, I still have anxieties, but knowing that out of the 8 billion people on this planet someone is there for you makes the sunshine a little brighter in my sphere.

So dear friend who reminds me of a loved one, I hope we can be, as close as we can possibly be, in a happy friendzone.

Love comes without notice

Ne confonds point l’amour avec le délire de la possession, lequel apporte les pires souffrances. Car au contraire de l’opinion commune, l’amour ne fait point souffrir. Mais l’instinct de propriété fait souffrir, qui est le contraire de l’amour. Car d’aimer Dieu je m’en vais à pied sur la route boitant durement pour le porter d’abord aux autres hommes. Et je ne réduis point mon Dieu en esclavage. Et je suis nourri de ce qu’il donne à d’autres. Et je sais reconnaître ainsi celui qui aime véritablement à ce qu’il ne peut être lésé. Et celui-là qui meurt pour l’empire, l’empire ne le peut point léser. On peut parler de l’ingratitude de tel ou tel, mais qui te parlerait de l’ingratitude de l’empire ?


Last month I received a nice e-letter.

The type of letter I had always wished to receive from a loved one. Well it was not like this, it was more of a soulful connection from one person to another. This person read one of my writings and was deeply moved, enough to send me something. When I read it I felt stirrings within, and am happy that there is also someone who has felt the same pain, understood what it means to love and not forget the moments. Eventually, I printed it out (unauthorized usage of office supplies) and carried it around with me for a week, together with the first story written by the man I cannot forget =)

This piece of paper traveled into the hands of a friend who has a sad romance now, so these words are comforting to her soul.

So here it is:

Thanks for being open. You see, I think that's exactly what made me say what I've said - because I can't find the courage to share such personal things publicly, but you have managed to do that. That's why I'm proud of you that you wrote the story.


You asked what had made me have such feelings and thoughts. Well, it's both a hard and an easy question:) Easy - because I think I've gone through something similar that you had (actually very similar), and I hope I managed to see the things as they really are and be thankful for everything. Hard - because recently I've been trying to understand how life works, what is important and what is not, and how to be the person you always wanted to be. It can be a really long story (I'm not sure you would have enough patience to read everything I could write on this topic:p), but to be short, I think that people come to our lives not by chance - they come to teach us something, and to learn something too. And even though our relationships with those people are not like we expected or hoped them to be - we still should be thankful to those people and to God for what we had. And, most important, we should forgive and honestly be wishing only the best to such people. Actually if we love them - how can we be angry with them? You see, I don't know what happened to you and that guy, but I'm sure that if you imagine him being happy, you'll be happy for him too, right? I know it's really hard to let people go (for instance, it took me almost a year to let a girl who means very much to me go), but once you do this - you'll feel much much better. There's this quotation by Antoine de Saint-Exupery (sorry if the English isn't that good, it's a translation):

"Do not confuse love with the delusion of possession, which carries the worst sufferings. Because, contrary to common belief, love does not make people suffer. The instinct of property, which is the opposite of love, that is what makes you suffer. Real love begins where nothing is expected in return. And while it's possible to steal something you got, who can take away what [those things that] you have given away?"

So... Well, I'm afraid I'm being too instructive again :) I hope you can free your heart (if you haven't yet), but not by forgetting, but by forgiving, and by being happy for the happiest moments you've had. Sorry for such a long email, I just like writing :)

fast-forward, please

I was excited at the prospect of seeing him again, already imagining how we would huddle up and chatter excitedly, like little furry creatures sharing their secrets of where they had kept their nuts. Then I was informed that he had someone. I'm seeing someone, he said. And I stifled a sob. I had thought that he was a rare mythical creature who somehow stumbled upon me, and these were bad times, sad times, but there would soon be a glimmer of hope on the horizon and someone up there would wave a magic wand and hubba hubba, everything would be alright with us. We would be somehow propelled by a cosmic force to be together in a large happy bubble. What was I thinking?

The last time we were together I had perhaps a wistful glimpse of the unhappy future. The gaze in each others' eyes when we looked at each other. The sound of his voice. One day too soon we will forget how it was like, to look at each other and feel the immense feelings inside. I told myself. We are living in fast-paced cities where sometimes life exhausts you and the sweet memories could be replaced too easily. Maybe if we were born in a different time it could have worked out for us. And I know we would soon forget things. The intensity for me, would be replaced by a succession of other men, some sweet, some kind, but no one could ever replace the space left when he left.

And then, I finally realised what the word 'devastated' meant, because I felt it in that space of a million anxious, swirling thoughts but the one large one: he has found someone else. I walked around in a daze, unable to comprehend him in various positions with another female. I had assumed he was happy being left alone. I even thought, foolishly, that I would be happy for him if he had found a weekend companion of sorts the way I did. No, my reaction to that devastating news, was to stifle and gulp down the sobs that found themselves in my throat.

Sometimes I wish I could fast-forward this stage of life. You know, I hope there is a happy ending in it somewhere. It seems futile to hope, and I know we will both get by, but the sickening, devastating feeling of how I would treasure, simply treasure the him with me, the 'us', how difficult it was for us to even meet, and then, someone comes along and just easily glides into his life like I never existed. Pretend I never existed, I told him, in finality. I have been dreaming for far too long, I reckon. I imagine it would be easier for you to forget me than the other way round. I imagine you would be happier without being torn by my soul, my thoughts, you said "I am too much" for you. Yes, I am the way I am. So go, with a simple, trusting girl and I hope you will find it in your heart to love her.

I have been a keeper of secrets, the way it has always been. I met one male who kept in his heart, funny memories of his ex. He would sometimes be unable to stop the anecdote from emerging, and then share it with me via text. I was okay with that, in fact, respected him more for having a sentimental side. He was someone hard to read and while I thought I had known him well, it turned out that I could never understand him in full. But it is okay with us. It would always be okay with us in that way. I met another man, recently. Something in his gorgeous face told me there was more than what meets the eye about his bachelor status. And just by being there for him, a friend, a listener, he revealed to me that he came to Singapore for her, a girl, the one he loved. He comes from a place where men his age would do so for love. Isn't that amazing? I wish to have someone like that one day, who would cross over oceans and come to forbidden lands for me. They had expected a relationship of a year to work out and start a new life together. But it didn't. Devastated. And he loved her so much; I suspect, as there was something in his eyes that said it, that he hasn't entirely given up hope.

I didn't feel sad when I saw that look in his eyes. I found myself silently rooting for him, even though the odds are low, even though it would have been nice to imagine him for myself, a sweet guy he was. If there is hope, then, there is something to wish for, isn't it? But I might have been the one who was full of hope, only to have it dashed, by a sentence, and then we are left alone to fill the space.

It never goes the way you imagined.

Those moments, the best part of my day, I try to remember, there was an unspoken thought in my heart, that, 'I wished you were here to see this'. I saw the most amazing sunset I had ever seen and ran towards it, trying to capture some awesome film photographs before the sun dipped into the horizon. All the while with that unspoken thought. Later, I had it printed. Though it would always have been more awesome in real life. I had it sent to him. Before all this happened. Why? I guess I had always wanted him to remember the best part of his day no matter how hard it gets. And so, he would receive it. I am not sure what he will do with this photo. I hope he frames it up and has it displayed lovingly as a memory of me, not tucked away in some obscure box.

I had imagined he had more in his heart for me, but now, I see that, there might have been nothing at all. And despite his repeated urgings to come visit, I finally had the courage to say no. I knew the aftermath, the long journey home, would have made me more miserable. I kept writing to him, through the months. To the "future" him. He knew about those letters and sometimes asked if I had scolded him. I wrote the "future" him my thoughts, my down times, knowing, that whilst it took others a lifetime or probably never able to understand me, little old me, it took him nothing at all, because we were made from the same mould perhaps. And wasn't it a pity that he just took all of these for granted.

I had written down my deepest feelings on pages upon pages of moleskine notepaper. Put them in a box and perfumed them with the scent I was using while we journeyed.

I had never really thought about what I would do with them, or when I would give them to the "future" him. I guess the time  has come for me to decide... =(