The Rosetta Stone

The more Japanese lessons I take, the more amazed I am at what must have been the first linguistic bumblings between the Sengoku-era Japanese people and Portuguese traders who maybe missed China by a little bit. Maybe we would still be completely clueless about Ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics had the Rosetta Stone not been found.

But when American, Singaporean and other journalists, students, academics and average private citizens set foot in each others' worlds, we don't have the benefit of a single Rosetta Stone pointing us toward a better understanding of the perspectives, intentions and meanings of our exchanged words. By no means are the two peoples meeting physically for the first time, instead, our worlds are colliding in a way which has never been done before - and this is a process which many people feel invested into, myself included.

It's an unholy swirl of identity issues, moral ideas, as well as hopes and ambitions common to many young people who believe in earning a good degree and enriching their human spirit intellectually and morally at the same time. It is natural to feel strongly about an institution which has been a key part of one's past journey through young adulthood, or an institution that promises to be a key part of one's individual and societal future. Clearly a fair number of Yalies, past and present, and Singaporeans, students or not, are invested in that. I know there are others still itching to enter the dialogue, be it on a public platform, between groups of friends or within the expanse of their own minds.

It can be frustrating to see the dialogue stagnate with a line drawn dangerously often at national boundaries between two adversaries duking it out. Keeping in mind that my previous post on this subject was/is meant as a private rage outlet, what I find actually, truly annoying, is the seeming lack of advancement of the conversation.

We seem to be stuck on asking おまえはだれ?
Trying to explain that my mates and I came from Portugal. Accidentally.
What do you mean by a 'free society'?
What does it mean to hold fast to the liberty I cherish?
What is that freedom anyway?

I think that rather than attempting, with good intent, to turn completely to convincing the other party with reason alone, we must acknowledge that feeling various emotions well up from within ourselves is a very human phenomenon - one that isn't just a vestige of our baser self, but is instead a clue to understanding our individual and societal psyche. As well as our own mental health. Arguments can carry on till the proverbial cows come home, but constant attacks are more likely to harden the mind as a bunker than open them enough for cultures and consciousness to flow out of it and touch another mind. I'm sure some Christians can understand when I say that the mind is never converted to understanding ('belief' is not the right word here), only the soul. And just as God can reach past the walls of Man's heart and touch his spirit, so too should we endeavour (in a secular context, but no less 'spiritually') to share the essence of what it means to be us with them - and for us to coax ourselves into allowing them to share what it means to be them with us.

I know of people who see what appears as HATEEEE and who lament, "if only they knew us". And they have a point, if only they knew us. But is that not an exciting challenge? To move quietly amongst fellow students to share about our differences and discover our similarities. We might never become close enough to be 'one people', but that should not be our aim in the first place. There is no room for missionaries or ambassadors, only people in constant Brownian motion.

Perhaps we may discover that it isn't fear of an authoritarian government that limits our freedom of speech, but cultural values rooted in events recent to a half century back or ancient as a couple of millennia.

Perhaps we may discover that keeping one's mouth shut sometimes is not an unenlightened, backward thing, but a grace.

Whether you are a first-generation student of YNC or an individual invested in another way, it may be healthy to be mentally prepared for a process that probably will take years, lack a grand finale/happy ending, and likely piss off lots of people along the way. Everyone has a piece of this Rosetta Stone, and the more pieces we elephantglue together, the closer we come to understanding hieroglyphs. Whether one views this as an exercise in society-transformation or a step in the journey of personal betterment or has some other motivation, it is humbling to think of this as a little school embedded on a small island in a big world in a bigger universe at one point in the expanse of time and history.

But it shouldn't stop one from dreaming big.

Mortality

Life can be short. On hindsight, I should have wondered this myself when hurtling through treacherous mountain paths on a small metal box on wheels and sugar, driven by a complete stranger, with a crew of 6-7 in the back half of the box. The view from a sheer cliff looks really pretty, so long as one isn't angling one's head down too much.

Another in/accident this week had, again on hindsight, the potential to change my life for the rest of its duration; however long or short that might be. If that van had come at higher speed, at a more acute angle, if those bushes weren't there, if the car wasn't on the slowest lane; more things than the car could have been damaged. The impact of that van would have had more than one shockwave. Luckily, my life wasn't changed all that much.

The consideration of the "what if" disturbs me. The privilege to go on living and the possibility of it being taken away all of a sudden hasn't entered conscious thought for quite some time already, if not ever. That I haven't thought of it all this time when life hung as fragile as it always does also disturbs me further, and more importantly, my own attitude toward being a mortal being. The sudden appreciation that one isn't invincible as one would like to be. Oh dear. Though we in relatively peaceful Singapore are less likely to be shot, blown into small pieces, get lynched, starve, freeze or dehydrate than other less fortunate people in the world, that's never stopped fate from being creative or being pure cruel.

I guess I don't have much of a right to assume much more since this experience wasn't anywhere near tragic or traumatic. I'll get my chance later.

With Pride we lead, got food will eat

=D

Well, I can think of much worse places to be. A prayer for all those in AI and to all those in AIRCRAFT CARGO RIGGERRRRRRRR

Goodbye

Will be back after the break.

By Wilfred Owen

What passing bells for these who die as cattle?

Only the monstrous anger of the guns.

Only the stuttering rifles' rapid rattle

Can patter out their hasty orisons.

No mockeries now for them; no prayers nor bells;

Nor any voice of mourning save the choirs,

The shrill, demented choirs of wailing shells;

And bugles calling for them from sad shires.

What candles may be held to speed them all?

Not in the hands of boys, but in their eyes

Shall shine the holy glimmers of good-byes.

The pallor of girls' brows shall be their pall;

Their flowers the tenderness of patient minds,

And each slow dusk a drawing-down of blinds.

Then came the Man

Only a few more days of living by the spinal cord like a small animal; then the rebirth into a brave new world!

He died for the Fatherland

Eintritt in der Wehrmacht: 4 Feb

Farewell comrades

See you on the other side!

In other news, no more CoH, Close Combat 5, Starcraft, Emperor: Rise of the Middle Kingdom, RO2, etc until after IB.

Appreciation to gaming m8s:

CoH: Gwin, Herr, Jarrel, Jx, Yang, Jonny, Bevan, JonSeah, Mr Seah, my bro and the Light (for letting us kope his acc eternally)
Starcraft: Juzzie, Jonny, Z, Jarrel, Jx
RO2: Herr, HJ
Emperor: Mr Kan

notepad: mending wall

No one seems to think it unnatural that people behave toward each other in the way they do; rather, most people think it natural for a certain kind of relationship to be in the norm. We're all humans of course, but I do wonder how far we can empathize with that ideal in the end.

I like sharing my observations regarding life with other people. Not a lot of people pick up the line with which I (or he, depending on the initiator) commence the meta-conversation; those who can I count my closer friends - perhaps simply because I can share and attempt to express life from my perspective. On the other hand, the bait is withdrawn from those who cannot; it's unreasonable to expect everyone to be sensitive to every variety of social signal after all.

It did prompt me to think about the kind of people whom I had this sort of relationship. Suddenly I recalled the fact that someone booked me as a chem tutor a year in advance (yes, ego boost, but that's not the point); he's just a year younger. Yet I'll be expected to fill the role of...a teacher; which in our society connotes a position of seniority. Sure I'll be able to mimic that kind of role, but I had an idea: wouldn't it be helpful for him to treat me as a friend coming over to study rather than as a formal tutor-figure? I figured I'd wear the old black school corporate T or something to signal to 1) remind him that we're not as disparate in age as my role may suggest and 2) create the impression that I'm a fellow student.

On hindsight, when one of the Y7s came back to be an officer, I had felt this most strongly. He's a decent fellow, smart guy; still is. But somehow something had changed and it wasn't his personality. I now believe it was his social role - now having a new kind of authority and consciousness of the social expectations placed on him, he seemed to me just - different.

I as a senior and as a junior. Just a year difference could mean so much in the end.

What of years of difference? Or even decades for that matter. I wondered how many adults I had a relationship with that could be comparable to that between me and my closer friends. I thought about teachers - given that I was just thinking about my chem tutorhood (and the standard I would have to reach to be worthy of that).

To be sure, I have thrown the meta-conversation bait out to my teachers (whether school or private). I did not expect to get a response, firstly because they cannot afford to give me a privileged position by taking the bait (even if they do see it), especially in front of other students. People are perceptive - misinterpretation of signals would be far too risky for said teachers to respond in a completely natural way. In spite of that, I sensed he left a subtle opening - a glimpse of his observations on life. I was satisfied with that.

Tutors don't have the same restrictions and for the most part, they understand my intent when I put out the line. A couple of adults from this category I speak my mind to. It feels strange to talk to adults in such a way so disparate from the usual expectation of a Singaporean student-teacher relationship. I much prefer the master-apprentice dynamic: an acknowledgment of the elder's superiority (an earned respect for demonstrated skill rather than an assumption based off age) and understanding of one's own developing status. I find this latter kind of relationship more meaningful - much like the relationship between closer comrades in my age group.

Age is probably just one of the things which determine our social role and hence the relationships we have. I mean, there's gender, intelligence, interests and all those other things. Gender's a huge barrier for me - I put it up myself last year in fact. But that's another issue.

I sometimes wonder why we can't all be really close friends and share our observations on life with the people who we talk to. I like doing that. It makes me more conscious of my life as a journey (yes, whatever, I may be able to guess what you, the possible IB reader are thinking) where I gain something meaningful in every communication with another mind (not just 'mind' - people are more than that of course).

Why the need for barriers then? Artificiality. Readers will draw their own ideas of this word in this context, but sometimes we're 'artificial' without even thinking. I know decent, artificial people who build fences without even knowing it, without any malice some of us may associate with the idea of an 'artificial appearance'.

Yet, for a rationale as yet unknown to me, society needs barriers.

Windows

The windows in my class open out sideways. They used to open upwards, for the past 2 years, along with a sometimes interesting view of the rear carpark in the mornings. The cool air would blow in, and on a rare day, the Batmobile would drive by, which it really did once. I have the same view once again, just from a different angle. The same cool air blows in. Perhaps I'll return to my habits later in the year, and stop crashing the classes of my old classmates in the morning.

Last year, when I sat on someone else's table, opened the window and watched what happened on the road below, I felt a little lonely, especially early in the morning, when most people haven't arrived and those who have are sleeping or in a similar state. Then someone else comes along and joins me (sometimes I am that someone else). Eventually, a merry party gathers and we talk about random things or stone together, which brings a warm feeling all of its own to me. But, the bell's got to ring some time and it does.

I'd rather not be alone this year when I watch through the windows. Yet I can't possibly be crashing others' classes or making them crash mine all year can I? Ok, maybe I might be able to, but I'm not persistent enough at 7am for that everyday. And besides, what message would that send to my new classmates? To do that might be like looking out the window on a fresh, cool morning without opening the pane.

The question once more presents itself. But the perceived choice to be made bolts the windows to their pane. What should one do? Use a screwdriver of course. There's probably another option for those who start the answer with the outcome in mind, think of the method a little later and have the strong enough will to carry it out. The true and meaningful ending, for the corresponding solution.