Saturday, February 24, 2007

Of dilemmas, and what the hell, teaching.

Well hello world, again, this is your friendly friend speaking to you once, again. Now before we get into anything else, here's some sporadic but well, nevertheless crucial and important updates about my life. Or should I just say update since nothing much has changed, except for the fact that I am a teacher now, a relief one at that. And of course before I continue, I shall give you the momentary benefit of closing your open jaws and easing your estranged pupils upon reading that unbelieveable phrase 'I am a teacher'.

But knowing I remain who I am and god-damned proud of it, I shall say it once more: I am a teacher.

Anyhow, then again, maybe updates would be a more pertinent and, well, relevant word to use since the plural function connotes a myriad of stories, and yes of course, a plethora of experiences to share with all of you. And, as I've said elsewhere, that's why I'm here, again. And before I slip into the regular tranquility of the familar, the ease of repetition, I shall get on with my story.

And so my story begins on the 21st of February 2007 when I reported for work at CHIJ Primary School (Toa Payoh). Being the first male teacher ever in the school (or so I was told), it was strangely awkward and, to some extent, exhilirating to see so many women, or should I say, women-to-be staring at me as if I was some sort of exhibit. Hey wait, I still am an exhibit or some sorts.

The rest, they say, is history.

It's been amazing the way I've been running into a string of good luck of late at work, so much so that things that are meant to be remembered and embedded deep within our memory bank become forgotten. One of which is the... well what the fuck, A Level results. I haven't been giving it much thought of late but it was until I heard the occasional 'oh my god', the not so occasional 'I'm so fucked' that this hapless, or to some extent, cruel fact of reality hit me. And good lord, did it hit me like it hit V or what?

I've been hit with timeless thoughts about how possibly bad my grades might become. Ever since the formula Hardwork=Success didn't quite work out and has since been debunked, fear seems to replicate and proliferate faster than H1N5 virus within my bloodstream.

I've also been hit with even more timeless thoughts, or perhaps they might sadly remain as fantasies until 'March the Second' (behold!) comes to thee. Well, ever since the formula Hardwork=Success didn't quite work out and has since been debunked, the ever resilient Ivan sought to gain his success via ways and means that not only included sheer hardwork, but also a tad bit of intelligent studying and what not.

But, as I've said before, things didn't quite turn out the way I wanted it to during my As (refer to Econs Essay screwup), so it's really hard to tell, you know. And what makes it all harder is having a high-flyer sibling who constantly reminds you to take some time running and eating and sleeping and think about what I want to do next. Such choices become difficult and eventually, annoying to make because without friggin grades, we can't make friggin choices yet. It's not like I haven't got a rough sketch of some sorts (Teaching Literature or Photojournalism per se); I just need more affirmation when 'March the Second' comes to thee.

On a side note, I'm about 40 days away from my Canon 30D.

The rest they say, is of dilemmas, and what the hell, teaching.

Cheers.

posted@3:18 PM

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Saturday, February 03, 2007

Twinkle Twinkle Little Stars

Take a quick glance of the night sky, and you see a mass of darkness.
Take another closer look of the night sky, and you'll see the tapestry of beauty.

Your heart moves, skips a beat, your breath loses its momentum. You never knew the sky could have so many stars. You're in awe.
And that's why I'm here again.


This week, I did 2 camps simultaneously. As nerve-wrecking as it was, I managed to survive it and it wasn't all that bad really. Whilst most have the tendency to go on and on and on about what went on in the camps in a mindless and totally boring fashion, I'll be trying my best to steer away from that course because, as I've said somewhere else, life is about moments. And here I am, guiding your hand into one of those memorable moments in my life.

I first met Sara on Monday. While she didn't inflict much of an impression on me, what struck me most distinctively was her sheer arrogance as if the world revolved around her - a myth that has been debunked centuries ago har har. All in all, she was the epitome of an A-Grade school's student.
You take a quick glance of the night sky.

But things changed from the minute we reached campsite. While stubbornly refusing to abandon that mask of arrogance, she attempted to increase contact with me. Not only did she began cajoling me, she was getting physical - lying her head on my shoulder, putting her arms around me and what not. For a 11 yrs old girl, is that some serious shit or what? My impression of her was dropped as fast as her switch in attitude, because who the fuck would imagine a friggin arrogant bitch who wouldn't care about anybody else but herself to throw herself all of a sudden at you, in ways not even women of my age would think of attempting. You'd say the society has changed, kids are different now. But I'd say that all I say was a mass of darkness.

As things failed to take a change for the better, I started to lose my nerve. To compound it all, she walked towards me during lunch on the 2nd day with those eyes that stared at fixatedly, commanded with that tone and said:
"Ivan, I want to talk to you after dinner."

And so we did. But this was not before I told my buddy, Hakim about this problem I'm facing:

I: Alright Sara, I think we need to talk, because I believe you have something to tell me.
< Silence for 2 mins or so, and Sara begins to cry. >
I: Ok look, if you cry, I can't help you. If you keep crying, I can't hear you. If I can't hear you, I cannot understand what you want to urgently tell me, and I won't know what's wrong. So please, hush, hush.
< Crying subsides, but does not stop. >
I: Ok Sara, firstly do you trust me? Ok good, so you will listen to what I have to say? Cools. Right now, I need you to close your eyes and think of nothing at all okay? When you're ready to talk, let me know.
< She follows my instructions, and this goes on for 30mins or so, with me staring at her throughout the entire period. >
I: Ok Sara, you ready to talk?

Yes she was, she always was. And this is her story:

I have one elder brother and one elder sister. One is JC2 and the other is Sec. 4. They always beat me and hit me and scold me and call me names. I dunno why but they just hit me very hard here *points on her skull*. I know I irritate them because they say so, but I really don't know what I did to irritate them. And when I tell my mummy and daddy about it, they scold me, say they are right because they are older than me. And I must listen to my 'che che' and 'kor kor' because mummy and daddy is very busy making money for all of us in the family. No matter what I say, they will never listen to me. Instead, they start to get angry with me, and beat me too. Then I will see my brother and sister from the corner of my eye laughing at me.

You take a closer look at the night sky...

Not long after I sent Sara to see her teacher, Hakim, my buddy, came and talked to me. And this is what he said:

Dude, this kid is depressed. I know because I spoke to her before you did, and she doesn't like like you, but she likes you because she said there was never anybody to care for her at home or elsewhere. Now she doesn't want to go home cause she thinks she can't find anybody like you.

And you'll see the tapestry of beauty.

Your heart moves, skips a beat, your breath loses its momentum. You never knew the sky could have so many stars. You're in awe.
And that's why I'm here again.

posted@6:59 AM

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