Judging from the sudden flux of incoming emails, either I'm very greatly missed, har har, or that my blog's not doing its proper job of updating y'all much, and I highly think it's the latter. I'm terribly sorry for that. :( And for the delays in replying; it's not because I'm ignoring you or that your correspondences aren't valued, but there's always (I'm sorry) a barrage of more urgent demands such as seminar work and appointments - please forgive me, I'll get down to them soon. >.< style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">
work - since I came back last tuesday I've been trying desperately to catch up, and for the first week I was surprisingly productive. Spent the whole of Weds and Thurs cramming for 3 seminars for Thurs, Fri and the following Monday; 3rd year readings have taken a leap up and they seem so much more than what we did in our first two years, so it was quite exhausting trying to prepare a week's worth of reading in 2 days, or 2 weeks' worth in 5 days (brain cramp ). And adjust back from Tanzania. Anyways, my 40-credit module - The Culture Business - this term is absolutely fascinating and I'm enjoying (almost) every bit of it. My tutors in this module (so far) have been very well MOE's money's worth - they're very encouraging and helpful in bringing out the important aspects of the module, i.e. the relationship between literature and the marketplace. So far we've looked at the definition of culture, stakeholders and products of the 'literary marketplace' such as publishers, booksellers, patrons, commissioned works and artists, economically termed the 'producers'; we've looked at the celebrity (cult) icon of Shakespeare and the First Folio MSS trends; this week we took a peek at forgery and its definitions. I love this multi-disciplinary intertextual socio-historic-politic-literary hodgepodge. Just have to remember to keep my essay in its proper cage.
A class trip to the Spelman's bookshop for an insight into the book trade. The plump guy in the middle is the owner, on his right is Prof. Bill Sherman the course convenor, and the lady on his left is Prof. Jane MoodyAnglo-Saxon is crawling slowly but at least heading somewhere, and it's getting really interesting at least. All in all, this term and next shall be the fulfilment and culmination of my chao pia resolutions, though this is not to say I haven't slipped since I returned. For this week's Monday seminar I got complacent, disorganised, overwhelmed by various social gatherings and consequently, really stressed on the day before seminar because I still had a load of readings to rush thru. But it all worked out fine in the end, praise God, and I thoroughly enjoyed Jane Moody's seminar. On a side note, I discovered, to my alarm, just on 28th Jan that my UCL application is due on 15 Feb, and I hadn't touched a single thing about its apps......
oh well! I'll get round to it somehow!
oh well! I'll get round to it somehow!
socials - First and last 2 weeks of term always implies social saturation; that's when everyone wants to meet up and it's difficult to really strike a balance between everything and everyone. I end up missing some, or trying to make it for all and then actually getting just a silly nibble of each slice of pie. Really tiring sometimes, and I've to constantly question my motives and God about which to go, who to meet, what to prioritise...... Anyway, it's strange that engagement parties seem to be rolling in! Yes, engagement! Amongst my peers. o_O The weekend just past had Sarah's on Saturday and Hannah Rolles on Sunday, but I couldn't make it for either because I wanted to do some readings after CU on Saturday (but failed - ended up chatting to Jason and Michelle in the kitchen); Steph's birthday gizmo was on Sunday after church, but I only went for a while before leaving for lunch at Lindley (it was glorious lunch I must say!), where then I got really stressed and quiet because work was gnawing gnawing gnawing on my heart. Oh well. Grace, not law! (Haha, Graham-esque). So at least God's kicking me quick out of guilt and getting me up and onward again. Have fallen back into balance this week again, so praise God!
Nagisa's birthday thingy at Betty'sBeen going to various fellowship things like Weds Halifax CU and Friday YCCF as usual, but Lin and Ailin and I have started meeting on Tuesday mornings for occasional breakfast and a nice chat and prayer. Both of them have been such angels in blessing me with encouragements and prayer. Always end the meet-ups with a smile in my heart. :) Occasional film nights as well - recently we watched Babel and Shakespeare in Love, and ahh! Joseph Fiennes!!! ^.^ I got a copy of it from Woolworth's for 2 quid too! And Billy Elliot for 3. KFC - yes, apparently (tho I'm not sure about this) there's only 1 KFC in this vicinity amongst many many Pizza Huts, so Ailin in a fit of enthusiasm suggested visiting KFC after the Spelman excursion. Very oilyfying!
Had breakfast with Jia Min at Derwent yesterday, and it was quite a lot of fun talking about a range of things - I learn quite a lot of trivia from that girl! Bless you dear! :)fitness - These couple of weeks have been one of my most regular gymming times in ages! Ailin has inspired me to consistently maintain a5k run on every visit, and tho it's not removing lipidssssss as effectively, it's training up my will power quite incredibly. Also I feel more energetic most of the time now -grin- Also recently joined Dance Soc for jazz dance. Always had a penchant for dance since secondary school, but never had many chances to pick it up 'cept for random things like cheerleading or dance in TK. So I'm so thankful for the time and freedom now to be able to join jazz dance, but agghhh it's really painful. I can't stretch for nuts. It... hurts. :( It also infuses elements of ballet, and for some reason they take it for granted that we'll know them; in the first session the lady went, "Alright now, do a 1-2-3, 1-2-3, pirouette around and stop", I was like, "What??!!" Oh but it's an excellent form of workout. And aesthetically pleasing. And enjoyable. Except for the fact that I really can't remember the steps in succession, haha, but oh wells, just be thick-skinned and make mistakes lor! Been making new friends thru Jazz dance; had dinner with Miranda, Mayuko and Ailin after the first sesh. And since I didn't take a picture of that night, here's one of Ailin, Miranda and myself in London outside the South Kensington creperie:
Godness - Hmmm. It's strange, in a way, but not entirely unfathomable, that ever since Tanzania I seem to have arrived at another level of consciousness. Similar to what Tim says about 'sleeping' and 'waking up' - 'cuz sometimes, actually, we just go through the motions of the day with acquired custom or even a layer of blindness, not just because of habit, but just...... a reduction to living in a system, the reduction to a mere material world when there's so much more going out there. Sometimes, sometimes I'm also so afraid of a reduction to living a mere religious life, where I go through the motions of greeting and meeting, of praying and existing, rather than really relating and living. And Tanzania has peeled that layer from my eyes, one of the layers at least. There's a strange part of me that's fighting to stay awake while the cacophony of voices try to drown it out. Things like work and self-preoccupation, entertainment and comfort, which aren't quite that bad on their own, but they're threatening to drown out something that I've discovered to be incredibly precious - a strange heightened sense of consciousness about God, His world, His other world perhaps. It's like... an awareness. As if you've always heard about the damages of smoking and actually know it by heart, but one day had the chance to see and feel a blackened lung or even witness a relative dying from its repercussions. That strange, inexplicable heightened sense of awareness... and with that, also an awareness of the immense power of God - and such a sense of possibility regarding that power, which I've only caught a glimpse of in Tanzania.--------------------------------------------------------------------
So what happened in Tanzania? I blogged earlier that I'll probably write up about the other aspects of the trip that pictures fail to tell. It's of course a fact that the camera can never faithfully portray even a slightest hint of the whole experience, because in remoter areas, in certain markets, or even in certain situations it'd be utterly impolite, dangerous, or insensitive to whip out the camera, much less take a picture. Images that lodge themselves so deeply in my mind - a dark house, several children on the floor, hungry-eyed, and two girls weeping; another barren house, stools this time, with young children, carrying even younger children on their backs, listening expectantly to the Word; children sitting on grass, stained white with sand, mucus running down their faces; mothers alone with their young; empty houses, one after another; mountain heaps of unsold fruits; faces, expressions, voices, the downcast and helpless glance, the smile of joy, the look of intrigue; the list just never ends. Even on TV - yes I watched so much African TV in my spare time - images of women abused, raped; HIV campaign adverts; drama shows with annoyingly loud women and their big dyed hair, cleavage and thighs or with the other extreme of docility to the point of weakness and gender abuse; extremely tear-filled and dramatic, like Taiwanese dramas; examples of globalisation breaking in quite brusquely; the conscious American accent of a teenage African girl; gospel music every morning with strange happy dances by men wearing shirts, ties and trousers. Things I can never fully explain in words! A whole class of uniform-clad hopefuls, struggling with HIV, fees and anger towards local corruption and colonial injustice. The near-90 deg toppling of a van when it was stuck in the mud, unable to move forward no matter how much the engine roared, and everyone, including women in their heels, enthusiastically jumped off the van to push and dig; the sheer scale of mountains and plantations and hills, and the sky and clouds; hoards of antelopes and zebras, a couple of lions, a few giraffes and elephants; stares, stares from curious eyes fixated upon the alien with whiter skin, Mzungu; going to the toilet with the smell of chickens and pigs wafting through the ventilation hole; brushing your teeth and opening your eyes to a landscape of mountains and fields; brushing your teeth with rainwater swarmed with insects; bathing with two buckets of water, one hot and one cold, when it's so cold at night; the simplicity; the life; the stripping away of nonsensical trivialities belonging to the so-called 'modern living' of civilisation - unnecessities that we really don't even need to bother about, shouldn't be bothered about, have too much time to be bothered about. One of the orphan girls, Schola, asked me, "Are there poor people in your country?" How would you respond? Sensitively? Honestly. I did my best...
And that's not even the spiritual side of things, the struggles, the visions, the uncanny, the 'coincidences', the witness of God's protection and provision. It was a very 看一天走一天 trip, which is very unusual because in my natural character I would like to know and plan what my next 10 steps (or even years) would be. (Mom will vouch for that!) But basically I entrusted the entire thing to God, and as the journey started I was growing in confidence that this was a trip planned by Him and for Him, so I could rest secure in the fact that the arrangements and day-by-day plan would be seen to. And amazingly He has provided a far more luxurious life there than I could've imagined - I actually put on weight when I came back, and despite compromising hygiene levels my usually-weak stomach never staged a rebellion. Similar replay of the operation aftermath of Sec 4; His power is made perfect in our weakness indeed. Wish I could write more about the spiritual side of things instead of being this cursory or even cryptic, but perhaps this isn't the best avenue. Perhaps I'll share about it in YCCF.
Ah, I feel like everytime someone asks me about Tanzania I can only smile and sum it up in 5 minutes. But these words are slapping limitations of gross injustice to the country and its paradoxes, to the whole experience and its various subtleties. Sometimes I wish words could mean more, do more, but if they are indeed able to encapsulate the experience, then the experience wouldn't be desired as much, would it? Oh wells. I wouldn't say it was life-changing, it really wasn't. And to say that would mean the trip was entirely out of charity, which is merely self-empowering in a... very selfish way. It wasn't my trip, though I've indeed been blessed with so much out of it, but it wasn't mine. It's more than that...
True enough, when God wills you to do something He does prepare all the way. When I returned to York I was really physically tired, and though there was supposed to be a lot of stress with work and catching up and getting back into the swing of things, everything came naturally, with so much peace, and so much joy, even though I was so, so physically exhausted. Which is highly unusual because it's normal to get especially grumpy when I'm really tired. As a stark contrast I was indeed tired and grumpy when I left York - especially in the Christmas period leading up to my departure when I just felt absolutely crappy and tired of everything - yet I returned different, and it couldn't have been a simple self-willed regeneration of the mind, or a byproduct of some pursuit of humanity's 'greater good', just 'cuz I was too tired of everything to even start willing myself to change.
It's incredibly moving that the change - Him - came to me instead...
