The first 10 months

So, it’s been a little more than 10 months since I’ve packed up my bags, said goodbye to the life that I’ve known for 29 years and set sail (or in this case flight) to the unknown. Well, it’s not exactly the unknown since The Netherlands is rather known but usually for nothing more than drugs, sex and windmills. Saving goodbye to my life in Singapore was a bitter-sweet experience. I was almost 5 years into my career and was starting to really enjoy it was learning alot and was climbing up the 'corporate' ladder but I know that that's not the only thing in life. Happiness to me, is not how big my bank account is, how many designer products I have or how many people I have working under me. But I know that I needed something more. I wanted a life. I want to be able to look back onto my life 40 years from now and say, "Yes, I did live it to the fullest. I did do the things that I WANTED to do and not things that I HAD to do." That to me is the true meaning of living. But of course life is not just something that happens to you. Maybe it does when you're younger and your parents or another adult pretty much made all the decisions for you. But they would come a point when you have to be responsible for your own life and ultimately for your own happiness.
Making the initial decision to move to Netherlands was easy. It usually is when it involves love. But between the time I decided to move over till the actual move itself was not as smooth sailing as I would have wanted it to be. Shakespeare said that the course of true love never did run smooth and that applies to long distance love too. And at times I did think about what I had to 'give up'... my family, my friends and my career. But I also know that the main part of what was sometimes keeping me back was fear. Fear of the unknown, fear that maybe my relationship was not going to workout and I would have to pick up the pieces. Fear of having to start allover again. I did need my partner to be the strong one and thank god he was. I would be eternally grateful to him for practically dragging me kicking and screaming onto the plane...well actually I got on the plane on my own cos he was here at that time. Looking back, it was one of the best decision that i made. Sure, there has been some difficult times for me; looking for a job, making new friends, adjusting to the weather here (which I love actually, except when I'm on my bike and it's pouring), but all those difficulties has made me a much stronger person. Being here has taught be plenty of things. I now know how to cook, bake and clean the house. These may seem like small accomplishment to some but to me, a person who has always lived with her grandmother has has always had things done for her, being able to do all that is a big deal. I can honestly say that I am rather proud of myself. It took sometime, but I realised that I will always have my friends and my family and that I will make new friends, and I did. I may not have a job now but I will always have my qualification and my experience. For now, I should just enjoy life and make the most of everyday. I should have things slow and stop to smell the roses (something I was not really able to do back in Singapore as I'm always so busy with work), and bake more!

Endless love

Your heart beat a little faster, your palms are sweating. You sometimes find yourself holding your breath and you feel light-headed. This is your body's and mind's way of telling you something. You're in love. At first, you were elated. You never thought that that could ever happen to you. You only thought that it could happen in extremely cheesy romance novels or in unrealistic movies with equally unrealistically beautiful people in them. Then came denial...there is no way that this is love. Maybe it's just a fleeting feeling. Maybe if you indulge in it for a while, it'll go away, just like any other feeling you've felt before. And so you went ahead and accepted it...for now. It made you feel good. Every time you are together, you couldn't get that feeling to subside, instead it just gets stronger. Before you know it, you realised that you cannot live without each other. You're happier than you've ever been before. You looked forward to the next time you can be together again and when you are, you never want the time to ever end. But just like every relationship, there will always be difficult times. At times you just can't understand each other. You don't know how to figure him out. And so you study him, over and over again. Study all the twist and turns and all the tricks and when you finally manage to cross that hurdle, you remember why you're in love, all over again. And at times, you did try to get away, thinking that you're better off without the other, that maybe this relationship is taking too much of your time but every time you tried to pull away, the only thing you felt was misery. Places, people and songs remind you of your love and so you let yourself fall all over again and it was good. And after so many years together, you know that you're meant to be. You know that you belong together and you know that it'll always be your first love. You do know that I'm talking about my love of dancing right....?

I know what my day will be like...do you?

Hotdog and ice tea... A simple meal, yet it's so satisfying. In a world where anything bigger, more expensive, more extravagant and with more bling is always better, have we forgotten about the simple things in life? Those cups of $1 coffee that they sell at the coffee shop, instead of those 'designer' coffee... plates of chicken rice that cost 3 bucks (complete with a side dish of soup) instead of a 4 course meal.... have we been fooled into thinking that the more expensive something is, the better is its quality? Things need not be expensive or complicated for it to be good. Just like life...to me the simplicity of a relationship is the best thing there is... having that someone to talk on the phone with, someone to laze around on a Sunday morning and get the Sunday papers with and eating a simple breakfast of pancakes and syrup. Simplicity in life has it charms that sometimes can be forgotten, especially in a world where every 'reality' series tells you that complication and drama is what sells, that if your life is simple and if you don't go through the day without having to deal with a cheating boyfriend, or a back stabbing friend then your life not worth living, that it has no value but I've grown to realize that craving drama is a sign of immaturity, I should know, I was there (not so) many years ago. But since I've been here and started my know life, I've grown to appreciate the simplicity of my life. To be able to wake up next to the same person everyday, to have dinner at almost the same time, to know what my weekend was going to be like...it may all sound so mundane but I prefer to refer to it as simple and simplicity will never go out of style.

Desolation

Release me from the tempremental bonds of fate,
let the swift arms of destiny embrace me.
dancing in the pleasures of emotional deformity,
waiting to crash...and be devoured by desolation.

Things to get off my chest

Yet another rejected after another interview...and all for the same reason; I do not have a teaching certificate that is equal to the Dutch teaching certificate. It doesn't matter that I've had nearly 5 years of teaching experience, that my heart and soul is in educating the young minds and that I give it 200% effort each and everytime....all that matters is that somehow, the dutch authorities decided that I have not had enough EDUCATION. That's what gets me the most. No one can be a good teacher by just going to school. Believe me, I know of a couple of teachers who did 4 years of studies in education and are crappy teachers. Experience in the classroom is the key to a good teacher, that and dedication and I know that I have them both. But after all these rejections, it makes me feel that all the hard work that I put in amounts to nothing. All those hours of staying in school (up to more than 12 hours at times), and weekends that I spent in my room correcting books and planning lessons, all those times, i spent searching for resources and doing research so as to make my lessons fun and make the kids look forward to studying, is all down the drain.
I tried to be something else other than a teacher but that's not where my heart is. Teaching makes me happy, knowing that if I made a difference in at least one student's life is reward enough (though the school vacations and bonuses didn't hurt either). If I'm not a teacher, than who am I? Someone commented on how much I love rogrammes on crimes and suggested that maybe I should consider being a police officer, but that's a hobby I have, just like fashion and i want it ti remain as that; a hobby. Teaching is my career. It's my life....

Missing

After a months days without them, the realization that I sometimes try to deny has set in... I miss my students, or, as I prefer to acknowledge them by, my children. Don't get me wrong, it is great to be able to stay up all night, watching re-runs of drama series that used to have me glued to the tube when I was in college (ahh the nostalgia..) and reading till I doze off into dreamland (and of course waking up with aches and pains, which isn't a surprised considering I slept on my 570 pages Marian Keyes book, but of course I digress), and being able to wake up way after the sun shines into my room (failing to stir me from my slumber of course). But I do miss them...alot, all 33 of them in my class and some of those whom I don't even teach anymore but never fail to greet me with that shy and sometimes cheeky smile when they see me around school. It was good to be able to divert my attention away from certain things which could sometimes bring me down , and turn my attention instead to the boy who tried to predict if I have a boyfriend by flipping a coin, or the girl who complained to me that the boys in class are calling her 'helmet head' and 'hammer shark' because of her new (and rather hip) haircut, or the boy who loves to tell me new things that he discovered or read about and asked me questions as the class walked down for break or while we're moving from room to room. Yes, I've said it once and I'll say it once again, I miss them and love them as if they were my own (well, I feel that they are, except that I don't have to give them pocket money or make sure that they're occupied on weekends or see them grow into teenagers full of angst and cringe as they dye their follicles every shade of the rainbow). Even though I never stayed with them for more than a year, they are always in my heart (here's where the sounds of violins playing can be heard) cheesy, I know, even by my standards, but hey, it's the truth.

It happened one night...

I've always known that I can be rather clumsy at times (ok that's kind of an understatement). But I never though that that little flaw (which can sometimes be a charm) would provide me with so much adventure as it did last night. First of all let me just say that I do feel that those fresh fruit juices that come in those rather huge glass bottles is a good idea. It goes along Holland's policy of recycling and saving the earth and all that jazz. But I do know that a combination of glass bottle in hand and a dark hallway is not always a good idea. Add that to tiredness due to more than 3 hours of spins and splits and you've got yourself a perfect recipe for disaster. It wouldn't have been so bad had I remembered that at the end of that hallways stand 3 little steps but me being me, I didn't. One minute I was talking to a friend and wondering if I had missed the bus and the next, I was flying through the air (well, not really, but you get what i mean). Survival instinct kicked in and I stretched out my hand to break my fall, forgetting that I'm still holding on to that glass bottle, which contained a very delicious combination of banana and orange juice. The good news is, I did manage to break my fall and avoid slamming my face into the carpeted floor. The bad news is the glass bottle broke and glass pieces were everywhere, included in my hand, and not to mentioned that it was a waste of perfectly good juice. My dance mates came running down (by that time I have switched on the lights to avoid a further disaster, or else the scene would resemble that of those that often experienced by Happy Tree Friends). They helped me clean up the glass and well, to cut a long story short (too late? who said that?!) I was driven to the ER in Den Haag. Thank god for compulsory health insurance! My advice to anyone is to be prepared in case you do end up in the ER in the future (although not ending up there would be a much better idea). Bring a reading material, a project or a friend! Thank god I brought the latter. We ended up talking for 3 hours while one doctor after another come in to look at my wound. When I did finally get treatment, which consisted of 2 stitches and a tentinous shot, it lasted for all of 20 minutes. I guess the Dutch's philosophy of taking things easy and not rushing anything also applies to treatments at the ER. But the whole experience did have good outcome. I bonded with a fellow dance friend and it showed me the importance of health insurance, which I have been making used of a lot lately. And I promised that I'll be more careful next time...well, I'll try.

Is life ever too mundane?

When I was a kid, I used to think everyday happenings were so automatic. As if everything followed a strict schedule. I used to think the sun would rise at an appointed time without fail or that my mom would promptly arrive everyday to pick me up from play school at a particular time. Was I at a lost when I realized that the sun didn't shine one day with the clouds lazily drifting above. Was I at the brink of tears when my mom had arrived hours late.

We've become so used to things. Life becomes all too predictable. The mundane. But what I've come to discover that the mundane isn't so bland and so ordinary, after all. In the mundane, we find the out-of-the-ordinary. Try spotting a dot or even a speck in a sea of lines. Lines seem to go on forever, well in fact, they do just like the experience of the mundane but once that speck finds its way into the world of lines, it'll instantly stand out. And it is precisely because of the everyday things that we learn to distinguish and identify what's so noteworthy. It is because of the mundane that we learn to appreciate the beauty of things.

In retrospect, you'll realize something you've probably known all along, perhaps in the back of your head, that yesterday wasn't at all like today although you've done the same things, the same chores, the same errands, the same schedule. But the difference lies not in what you do but HOW you do it.


I think life can be too long a trip. Too long that it simply gets boring after a while. Same old stuff. And that's where the challenge lies, finding ways to make the trip just a little bit more fun.

The mundane. Who would've thought that because of it life becomes even the tiniest bit meaningful.

Something I had forgetten

Yesterday, I had this sudden urge to just start cleaning up (that rarely happens so I do feel that a celebration is in order) and I came across this scarp of paper with something which I had written. I can't even remember if it's an original work of mine or otherwise. But here it goes....

Down by the river

The gurgle of a stream.

The lapping of water

Interrupted my dreams.

I shuffled my feet together

To the whirring of wings

of birds in the treetops

And the distant rustling of leaves.

p.s. I don't think the poems completed....