posted by Graciana@Home at 3:33 pm

Indeed you are much exceptional for your restless yet serene keenness to make sense of your life, of your existence, of your whole being. Not much of flattery, and reasonably honest—as honest as you can expect someone to be in this world that has gone ‘out-of-original-style’—I have always regarded you Olympian in almost every aspect of life, superior and broad, in intellectual interests, and in wisdom of connections, and in spirit. So thank you, it is an honour to have you share your self. I would like to wish you in your every endeavour, the possibility of living virtuously in any station of your life: that no matter how diseased a society can be, it will not condition and corrupt such a morally sensitive person as you; that in this world of less-than-man, you will discover you near the end of it properly a man—a Christian one. Well, you are a Herculean in strengths really, but also in weaknesses—such as being daunted by the office aunties. =P For all your goodness and absurdity and foibles, you sure have grown more endearing to me. =)

More blessed years ahead to you. Grace today. Grace tomorrow.

Sincerely,

posted by Graciana@Home at 2:47 pm

posted by Graciana@Home at 6:51 am

When I get injured I must clean the wound at once, thoroughly and well. When I have bitterness or bad taste in my mouth, I must not swallow it back. I must quickly spit it out, lest it is poisonous. When I get ill, I must make haste to apply remedy. What good is it to delay? I must not wait. Lest I wait and I become more unfit and my poor health is beyond treatment. Lest I wait and the wound gets worse and the sting of pain is aggravated and the scar left is too ugly to sight. Lest I wait and the poison spreads and becomes too lethal and too fatal that nothing is able to prevent it from killing me. I understand I am not able to do any healing. But I must make every endeavour to heal that is within my power to do and do it carefully. He is the one who orders it done and He is the One who does it and He will do it. Blessed is the LORD of my soul! LORD who heals and resurrects sickly and deadened soul.

posted by Graciana@Home at 3:53 pm

A handful of people have suggested similarities in our characters. Living through with her, I am affirmed that we are alike in one particular routine: we cry ourselves to sleep almost every night, or more accurately, on every other night. Fortunately as roommates, we are clever—we take turns. As if the timing has been set up, like the rising and the setting of sun. And as if it is divine providential, when immediate consolation is essential for remedy, God bestows us with a friend by our side. Both D and I are often worried stiff about responsibilities to others whom we care and who care for us and we grow nervous thinking of and planning our future. One day when D struggled to stifle her sobs, I came near to hug her and asked what have made her so sad. She replied in tears and jerky speech, ‘I am confused of how to give attention to everyone in a fair, adequate, and most honest way.’ I thought to myself, oh my, did not I just cry over this some nights ago.

AK too discusses and consults more frequently about a PhD abroad these days, and how he looks forward to one day teaching in a reformed University in Indonesia. UK is most zoomed in as destination for further study, and by evening I would have imagined living in another society most class-conscious like Singapore, from financial covetousness, intellectual snobbery, to linguistic prejudice. Here I teach English; there I could be grammatically challenged. Charles Dickens would not have named his book ‘Great Expectations’ for no reason, would he? Picturing poor, unsafe, and unruly Indonesia too prompts me of Raffles’ tragic personal life across the sea. He lost his wives and four children to harsh conditions in Java and Sumatra. My heart is nearly broken in anxiety, everyday. As much as I am happy and thankful to be beside AK, what if I am not good enough a helper? What if as a helper, I am not strong enough, physically, mentally, spiritually? Possibly I will get immensely insane—and be another Mrs. William Carey.

Yesterday I woke up with puffed-up eyes. Today it was D who was with single eyelid. So supposedly, by rotation, tonight it is my turn to weep. It is a hunch. You know, like it really rains on days our grandfathers heave a sigh, ‘looks like it is raining today.’

posted by Graciana@Home at 9:14 am

The Pencil

posted by Graciana@Home at 10:21 am

Last lesson of this term with E. E attained A1 grade for his English Art final paper, a striking progress from the Bs all this while. In spite of his unrelenting argument that language was a stubborn fact of disinterest to him, E was diligent and he participated actively in every discussion. I sensed nothing of indifference from him at lessons. I should think what played a part most in his recent grade was his keen moral sense in reviewing the Diary of Anne Frank, with possibly a slight help in polishing the flair of language. AK had been always around, and D came along when lesson was ongoing. Very humorous chap. Reviewing E’s final essay, both of us recalled we failed literature papers very badly during our first year in Singapore. He dropped the subject halfway through the year, with assertion that Shakespearean read was just not his cup of tea. And I made known to everyone how I scored 29/100 in Harper Lee’s To Kill a Mocking Bird assessment for misreading and misunderstanding the essay question. We talked about how many bags a girl is to have. D’s answer was four: one in black, one in white, and one in beige to easily match with anything and everything, and another in pink to brighten up sometimes—a treat, he said with a grin. Guys would need two, one for work and another one for less formal occasions.

At last, after a long wait through the week, we visited Project: Eden at Raffles City. A simple kiosk turned into a roof top garden of trees of green broom heads, trees of green garden forks, a slice of grassy land of green plastic spoons and forks that glisten, masquerade of insects, butterflies I suppose, of colourful hairclips. Even toilet brushes and mopping towels are played pretty (in green) in this imaginative plant nursery. Daily domestic devices of nothing of value of art are composed into something beautiful, to see and is pleasant to roam about. I had a good fortune of taking pictures of AK in the garden, too. Imagine him posing, really.

We reached NBC before 3pm for meeting with PH and few others regarding Care Group. C was there too. I questioned at the start of the meeting, why something of caring must be made systemised. C gave me a mischievous knowing smile and I immediately wondered if the asking was too rash. Now I am one of the leaders of Care Groups. I know in my heart that PP has grown to be dearer to me over time but I hope the caring will continue to be spontaneous and free. Then God presented me with a test right away. MT was around at PP, and the first sight of her was her in conversation with AK. I know I have to start seeing her as a whole person, standing on her own, apart from AK. God have mercy on my heart. I was glad I gained enough courage to ask her sit beside me. The handshake and occasional glances at each other were heart-warming. I had someone remarkably knowledgeable too who was ready with sufficient explanations for the unfamiliar topic preached. Having her in our Care Group was fun. I asked, she talked at length, I listened. Then I asked again. Good. I love being the one who keeps quiet. And of course S was also in our group to spark off with his hilarious distractions like ‘Who is your teacher?’, ‘What is his name?’, ‘What is his nationality?’, ‘How does he speak like?’

Care Group session lasted somewhat long and at 8pm, dinner was late to me who then was already too giddy of so much talking. Ayam Penyet eating place was crammed as usual and dishes were served slowly. But when finally served, the sambal of Ayam Penyet was sizzling spicy and Sayur Asam was sweetly sour, enough for a merry meal. Called out a ‘Jiayou’ to one of the attendants who was drenched with sweat and trying his best to serve orders correctly—he became completely embarrassed and sweated even more. H expressed an emotional rendition of his concern for G, and on way home AK and me were joined by R. He shared more about him and his life and towards the end dropped by at home a bit to carry on with the sharing. I was thankful I made new friends by the end of the day.

There is another task done. Article on friendship is now left to AK for editing.

posted by Graciana@Home at 6:15 pm

On Vesak Day, I sent Yo home at Changi. Having tasty and tender Srikaya toasts at Kopitiam beside Departure Immigration Hall was a pleasant send-off lunch with her. There was also a different feel to sipping kopi (read: not coffee) straight out of a chinese porcelain cup. I still think that there has to be a lesson in art of drinking coffee. (Or Singaporean kopi.) ;)

Left Changi and met AK for Suntec Book Fair. AK bought two books for his two dear OSG birthday boys. I had the privilege of having dinner with the whole OSG yesterday after Sunday service. Somehow to be called ‘Cici’ by a group of boys rang kind of nice to my ear. I had the honour to be teased as ‘Nyodi’ as well. They have learnt well from that afternoon’s ST’s sermon, I guess. =P R was exceptionally caring and gentlemanly (Girls, you can start considering =D), L was way too witty and funny and chatty, A was still a shy guy, and if it was not for the other A, L would keep chattering no one’s stopping him. =P Was amused and charmed by their bantering. I left them for their OSG session feeling loving and loved.

At Suntec Convention Hall lobby, we went pass another branch of Food Republic food court. It was a far-cry from the one at Vivocity. Vivocity’s Food Republic did its name proud with its retro-Asian-Shanghainese theme, complete with particular niceties such as authentic old and unused shop houses’ wooden louvered doors and windows. Ornaments such as colourful rustic bird cages hung and leaning-on-the-wall bicycles were occasionally found on our way around too. Even the floor was of old recycled wooden planks, so deep and rich in their dark and faded patterns and shades. The background music supported its theme, we were entertained by the distinctive shrill of a Chinese Opera singer penetrating from afar. AK agreed with me that the one at Vivocity was nicer than one at Suntec. Here at Suntec, my hopeful expectation to be eating bordered by shelves of books was shattered. In this styled after colonial British library food court, instead of filled with real antique books, most of the vertical planes looked fake with books-and-classical-columns wallpapers. The counters had some real antique-looking books, although when I flipped open one of them, it was a Nora Robert’s novel. Very deep sigh. Well, I still had to applaud its odour-diffusing system. That was the first time I came out of a food court (supposedly humbler in design and facilities than any eating place) not smelling of food at all.

Because of the crowd at Food Republic and at Suntec in general (by the way, I am very thankful (emphasized) both of us could not stand shopping crowds =D), we settled on an early dinner (around 5pm plus) at Bras Basah Complex food court, which was much less packed with people. AK was already hungry because of his meager (and light, he said) lunch at McD and I was too of the few slices of toasts. We considered Fort Canning Park as the next destination to spend some leisurely time together, but at the end, found a nice windy spot around SMU to do some work, one equipped with power points for my laptop =P I edited and remarked on E’s essay whose lesson was to be on the coming Saturday and AK had to manage an unpredicted business, a rather secretive one he would need to claim. ;)

Nearby was the Singapore National Museum. AK said we should not miss the opportunity since it was so close-by from our spot, and since I had been wanting to see Singapore Built and Unbuilt exhibited at the Canyon. The old colonial museum building was attractive in itself from outside, in particular with the touch of modernity of its central glass staircases. Projects displayed at the exhibition in the form of horizontal film strips were equally impressive. It was inspirational and it passed on certain motivational push for me, but there was always apprehension. The short videos of interviews and discussions among architects were intimidating. It was no different from listening to Greek. Other than that, I was delighted with the beautiful visual compositions of lines and forms on presentation panels. I am also glad that I am no longer too ignorant of the architectural possibilities and upcoming projects in Singapore. My favourite is still the upcoming Marina Bay pedestrian bridge, a double helix structure, spiraling and likened to a DNA structure. Must be a crossing experience. =)

Other portions in the Museum were enjoyable too, especially the Food sanctuary. Most of the food and the sellers and their devices are already considered antique here in Singapore but still are rampant in Indonesia. =P

Thank you very much AK for bringing me around and being with me to enjoy the day. =) Oh and he bought me Christianity on Trial by Colin Chapman. An interesting read at a glimpse, and I still have a lot to learn. =)

What happened on days after, is to be continued..

posted by Graciana@Home at 1:25 pm