Hello, I miss you

I've never felt more independent than I do upon arriving back home from National Service. In all my history of being somewhere far and away from home, this is the most impressive feeling of independence I've ever felt. When I walked through the gate of my grandmother's house this afternoon, struggling to drag my heavy luggage (yes, luggage) up the pavement floor, I wasn't feeling the way I was supposed to feel - you know, the i-miss-home-and-it's-good-to-be-back feeling. That feeling didn't swallow me whole at all, actually. Instead, I felt like I didn't leave in the first place. Like I didn't leave home; like I didn't leave the people I love behind; like there was nothing to be left behind to begin with. Everyone has been expecting my arrival, the people whom I have been updating on my daily happenings, that is, and although I don't feel the way I'm supposed to feel, it is good to be back.

The two weeks that were spent at the Gopeng National Service have opened my eyes wider to the things I was so blinded to see before; unlocked the doors of my heart to the people I never thought I'd let in; and released my mind from views and perspectives of other people that I never took into account or respected before. Even though it has only been a mere two weeks, it's proven to say that I've learned a lot (and will be learning more when I return back to the camp).

It's a winding road all the way to the camp site, complimented with thick, lush green forests at every angle and an astounding view of picturesque mountains which birth the sunrise and welcome the sunset in such a beautiful manner. At night, the moon would light up the sky and the stars would give out a sparkly glimmer. And sometimes, after a downpour, a rainbow would appear across the sky. The scenery there is simply breathtaking (need I more proof?).

As for my dorm, let's just say it doesn't live up to fine Hotel standards - the tiled floor would be far from squeaky clean, our shoes wouldn't be arranged neatly in order with sand stuck to its soles and our lockers would be a terrifying mess once opened. But nonetheless, it is not as bad as I'd imagined it would be. And believe me when I say that my wild imagination lead me to believe that it was going to be far worst. But in truth, every utility there - although too low for my usual standards - is pretty much...bearable. Yes, that's the word - bearable. Bearable because, as hard as it is, I'm slowly getting used to being in discomfort. I mean, out of my usual comfort zone. 

What has gotten me through those lonely days and cold nights, I've come to realize, are the people who in the beginning were just casual acquaintances - who would just pass me by and politely smile at me; who would just glance at me from across the room/hall and then would forget the sight of me in a split second; and who would introduce themselves out of an act of force and then never bother to talk to me again - but now, over time, I've developed a real camaraderie with. I refer to them as a blessing, truly I do. Before I 'reported for duty', as usual, I assumed the worst. I never thought they'd be so nice, so friendly. I'd thought they'd treat me differently, due to my complicated background history and upbringing. I was even scared that I'd be picked on and there won't be anyone to save me from it. Maybe I'm being a little to mellow-dramatic but it's true.

As most of you already know, I'm a Chindian. A Chindian who doesn't speak neither of her mother tongues because I was never really forced to learn it - I was given the opportunity to learn it at a mature age. An age when there were other things that were more important to me than learning to speak Mandarin. I spoke English, day in and day out, through all the years of growing up. And that was that. Oh, and I was known as a Banana. You know, white on the inside and yellow on the outside. People didn't come up to me and question my inability to speak neither of my mother tongues and when they did, I would just take it in one ear and it would come out the other. After a few days in National Service, I met a few people who shared this particular issue. They, too, couldn't speak their mother tongues and when they shared their story with me, I realized that I didn't go through so much as even a fragment of what they have gone through. They were picked on, mocked at and became the object of irrational, childish teasing. Of course, I'd never know what it feels like to be in their shoes but I admire their strength. I admire the fact that despite being teased and mocked, they never let that put them down (you know who you are). And I'm glad to have them as companions at the camp. Knowing this, I have more to be thankful for.

For now, I guess that's all I've been struggling to get off my chest.

I never thought I’d reach a point of my life of enjoying the ride so much that I didn’t mind not knowing where it would lead.
I can’t help knowing that days like these are the ones I’m going to look back to and get a coy little smile about.
I’m happy right here; I’m happy right now.

(via write of passage)

  

P.S - Just in case you inquisitively wonder why I am able to have access to the Internet; uploading pictures and typing out journal entries, I have set aside a good explanation. Since it's Thaipusam and it's stated 'India' as my race, I had the advantage of applying for Thaipusam holidays - the Indians were all given 3 days off. Although I'm a Christian - and Christians weren't allowed to apply for Thaipusam holidays - I managed to talk my way through every question that arose from the trainers with little white lies ( I look like a "mix" but am an Indian). I'm not proud of it but I did what I had to do. Let's just hope I get to extend an additional three days for Chinese New Year. Keeping fingers crossed.