i still love the scent of rain

                    WE HAVE MOVED.

so. EIGHT of you are coming to visit eh?

(aaaaaaaaaaaaarrrgghhhh!)

i’m excited!  =) but… what will i do to keep you guys entertained??? talk about pressurrrrre, people!

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i’m sorry i made fun of bananas previously. i hope the people whose lives have been devastated by Larry get aid and comfort soon…

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i’m in love with the clinical skills coordinator. no, it’s not a new thing, i’ve been in love with her since Week 1. i want to start a fan club. each day i consider sending a mass mail out to my course mates to see if they’d like to join, with me as president. how can i not idolize such a good doctor and teacher? she’s got a great sense of humour to top it off.

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on monday i was at the supermarket after a long and tiring day… with an empty stomach… wearing really slack clothes… having had no time to wash my hair that morning… carrying my school backpack… i swear, i had takkuasaness written on my oily forehead and i am absolutely certain i didnt put on enough deodorant… and what happens? this turkish guy walks up to me and started chatting like we were long lost friends!  0_o  meh. i was being polite. but he even went on to talk of his ailing mother–that was pushing it lah. and then he asked if we could meet up for coffee. and then he asked for my number.

at the supermarket! i mean, even if i were interested, which i so am not (go ridwan!!! you rock my world, dont worry.) think about it! so tak glamour kannn??? the only people searching for coupledom (or a good lay) that i can imagine meeting at the supermarket at swingers and single mums and retirees! or maybe saya yang tak sedar diri, eh? i should get it clear in my head that i’m midway to my mid-twenties. i’m not gonna get picked up by dashing seventeen-year-olds no more. heh.

i have never thought there would come a day in my life when bananas would cost $10 a kilo. (ok. maybe $6.) i have never thought there might be a possibility that i would have to go 18 months without bananas. i wonder if smoothie prices would go up too. how about banana cakes? and banana muffins? baaaaaaaa naaaaaa naaaaaaas! baaaaaa naaaaaa naaaaaaaas!

of course. this is a grave matter. Queensland has been hit by a cyclone, devastating acres of crops, thousands of trees and, perhaps, the odd cow. and yes, it is not a joke. yes, dozens of people are in hospitals and hundreds have had their electricity cut off. millions of dollars are going to be lost due to destroyed agricultural lands. it’s so not funny. until you think of bananas.

maybe bananas are just intrinsically funny.

no. no bawdiness intended here at all! but face it, the male anatomy is funny too. a woman’s body–her skin, her curves, her softness–is a beautiful Work of Art to behold. but generally, a man’s?   0_o   let’s change the subject.

you know i love swings. it’s just one of those things, for me it’s stars and daffodils and warm chai, among others. i pass by a playground on my way back to/from uni/hospital everyday and i’ve been itching to sit on the swing but it’s always too hot or not enough time or something… but today, i had my time on it. ah. finally.

when i was a little kid, my parents bought me a bright yellow swing with white ropes from Ikea and installed it on the ceiling of the only other bedroom that i dont share with anyone other than this one that i’m in now. (btw, if you’re wondering, i’m quite sick of having my own room already.) (even that one, the one with the swing, i shared with my sis since i was six.) i loved the swing to bits. i still do. and i’m still delighted by swings in general.

i’ve lost count how many times ridwan and i have hung out on swings. once at the palyground next to Como, we were swinging on swings next to each other, amusing ourselves with some artistic synchronized swinging… it’s little memories like this that adds up, sometimes.

B-A-N-A-N-A-S!

Well. I arrived at The Stables (see previous post) about half an hour after the show had begun. The tickets were sold out so, the charmingingly rustic venue was filled with people sitting down on foldable garden chairs or bales of hay, sipping wine, chatting and tapping their feet to the jazz. No ticket = no seat. So I was just standing at the back, tapping my foot to the jazz. I called Ridwan, I wished he was there too. But no ticket also = no money spent on ticket = no compulsion to stay. I had no idea if my friend and her boyfriend were in there somewhere or not anyway. Plus I was beginning to feel hungry–hunger no amount of jazz, however catchy, could satiate. I wandered off towards the East Terrace and pleasantly found myself in the Garden of Unearthly Delights.

I knew about it, of course. But I wasnt sure where it was. I was merely gravitating towards the ferris wheel I saw from afar. But I was contented to be there. All the while, I kept on thinking of The Five People You Meet In Heaven. The rides, the music and the many performances, both blameless and burlesque. Unlike The Stables, there were kids galore. The weather has gotten cooler of late so there were little toddlers wearing the most adorable jackets. One cherubic little girl who caught my eye was wearing a classic calf-length red jacket with black buttons and on her head a matching red hat with a black flower–she looked like a miniature Jackie Kennedy.

With my bowl of Lebanese Rice with chicken and almonds, I sat facing the carousel. Did I mention that I love carousels? Especially the old ones with only horses carved out of wood. Well, the one in front of me was the modern kind with all kinds of animals made out of plastic, but I still like it.

At that moment, I thought of how romantic it was. Imagine sitting, watching the carousel and falling in love. My brain was getting fluffy with the funfair music and the officials walking around wearing vests and tophats.

I was savouring the calm solitude of being anonymous in a crowd. But the crowd, though in truth unchanging, was getting louder and busier in my mind. The lights of the carousel, its mirrors, the carved out faces on its top rim began to look garish and sinister. I looked at the children and the families–they were talking, laughing, crying all too boisterously. Then, as quickly as the caricatures in my mind appeared, they subsided.

Here, I saw three girls (cousins?) playing with ribbons, pretending they were ballerinas. There I saw a mother bouncing her chuckling babe on her knee. Next to the pretty carousel, stood a man who smiled and waved each time his little daughter passed by him on her plastic bobbing horse. Behind me, I could hear the excited voice of a child recounting her time on the trapeze to her parents. I didnt need to turn around to know the expression on her parents’ faces–smiles not feigning, but acknowledging wonder in a little thing.

For a minute, my eyes welled up as I was fighting back tears. I have not seen the smile on my parents faces for months at a time these pass few years. I have not watched my baby sister grow. I have missed my other younger sister’s prom, her talk of friends and school and Other Important Things. I have been absent when my brother entertained the family with his antics and excitedly recounted his day like that girl behind me. But I cant bring any of it back. Like I cant bring back any of the births and deaths, marriages and milestones of any of my cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents that I’ve missed. I cant wait to have children of my own that I can bring to carousel rides (start my own family since I’m so far away from the one I already have??), although the propect of that within the next decade seems bleak. I cant help any of this. But I could pull myself together and enjoy the carnival.

I got up, walked to the next busker. And I allowed him to make me laugh out loud.

I dont know what living in the hills is doing to me but, as I was walking home today, I realised that I can now recognise some bird species by the sounds they make! Although not a bad thing at all (but it is a little freaky coz I’m not even trying), I think next sem, I wanna move to the city. Or the beach would be nice too.

The birds are one thing. At least thats not bothering me. There is, however, one little thing that was driving me nuts! On the way to and back from uni, I walk pass these flowers…. these captivating pinkish white to deep pink wild flowers that seem to just pop out from the ground. Its scent I find absolutely sweet and intoxicating. I’ve been wondering what they’re called for quite a while now. With the help of my best mate, Google, I went through one botanical index after another for the last two hours and… IT FINALLY PAID OFF! I was so happy I could cry. I’m such an idiot. Presenting, the Belladonna Lily (Amaryllia belladonna)…

Now, here comes the part where I divulge yet another one of my fantasies only to read it later in my archives and get utterly embarassed. Like every girl (at least I choose to belive that such is the case), I have an idea of what I want my home to look like–what pots and pans and plates I want to buy, what bed sheets, what type of furniture… Recently I’ve been thinking, if… if I ever end up staying in Australia for a good number of years (because, Singapore, where family is, is home) and if… if I ever get a house here, maybe I should begin picturing my garden too. You know, just in case. Well. I want white freesias and stephanotises and tuberoses and tulips and star jasmines and osmanthises and belladonna lilies and a HHUUUUUUGE maple tree   =)   oh. white daffodils and narcissuses in pots would be nice too–I havent made up my mind yet, I like the yellow ones because they’re so happy.

I’m supposed to be enjoying Jazz at the Stables with a friend and her boyfriend right now. But I’m just so lazy (plus the obsessive googling)… it’s a pleasantly cold drizzly day. I’ve been in bed all evening reading a good book. Lahiri’s style is sharp, yet sensitive. It’s an insightful and thought-provoking read, people. Recommended!! I stopped to take a break (read: obsessive googling) but I’ll get back to it after this. I’ll complete the book before the night is over, I’m sure. Jazz can wait till tomorrow night.

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My friend just smsed–she wants to go tomorrow night instead of tonight too! Ah. All’s well that ends well.

I don’t know why I inflict such things on myself all the time.

See, sometimes, on some mornings, I get dressed and get ready and eat breakfast to the sounds and sights of Sunrise. It’s a habit from the first year of uni which i never really shook off, which I dont think I necessarily will, anyway.

Yesterday, I was doing just that. They were broadcasting Live from Melbourne. I got so depressed. I felt a strange feeling of homesickness akin to the feeling when I think of Singapore sometimes. So, I decided to make a Singaporean breakfast for myself–curry and prata–comfort food by virtue of familiarity.

There I was, in the kitchen (there’s a TV in there too), soaking in the sights of beloved Melbourne and making curry. You try making curry and prata when your class is about to start in an hour. It’s not a good idea. In fact, it’s a really bad one.

(While I was cooking, one of my housemates walked in, dishevelled. He told me he’d just woken up from a bad dream–a chicken had come to him, telling him that its father had been murdered, so it was now terribly lonely. My housemate looked really troubled, shook his head, and then he went back into his room. So random, right?)

At 8:45, I was finally enjoying my comfort curry and miserable instant prata. (Actually they taste pretty good lah.) It takes 20 minutes to get to class. I wasnt even dressed yet. My class started at nine.

Today, at seven, I decided to watch Sunrise again, knowing full well what was in store. So, why do I inflict such things on myself? Melbourne’s like a first love without a clean break up. No matter how I’ve moved on, I’d still feel that pang of longing everytime I’m reminded of it.

I’m amazed that I’ve kept a blog alive for a whole year now. I think the only online thing I’ve kept alive longer than this (and therefore, my friendster account) is my hotmail email address. That, I’ve had since 14. Trust me, in all the years in between, I’ve signed up for a lot of crap on the web.

The strange thing is, prior to elia.blogs.friendster.com, I couldnt even imagine myself keeping a journal that was public. What can I possibly write about that would be worth reading but also not too personal or judgemental?

From the start, I wanted to make sure that the absolutest mostest intimatest of my thoughts and feelings will not be aired here–more to protect my own vulnerability than anything else. I wanted to steer clear of politics, social criticism, religious ideologies and the likes simply because I’m truly not eloquent in such subjects so, I’m not even going to pretend.

Therefore. I dont know how on earth it is that I have since posted more than 200 times on this blog. What have I been writing??!

I went back to my archives to reread some of the stuff I’ve posted. Some made me feel like I just want to cringe and die of embarassment/stupidity. Like, what was I thinking??! Just shoot me, please. But to be fair, there are some posts that I’m glad I’ve written because they’re like stillframes of specific experiences and events. Memories. Both good and bad.

When I come to my senses, I’ll remove my archives from this page. Meanwhile, I’ll be naive.

i think i’m over-blogging this weekend. but it is therapeutic, and little therapy’s what i need.

i was TPA teaching earlier today. it felt really good to be amongst kids again! it made me really really happy. but on my way home, i began feeling so saaad and lonely. i was missing people at Westall, especially indri and nurul and nasya. ok, nasya’s not technically at Westall. i was missing the kids there too. children grow so fast, i’m sure they’re so much bigger now compared to the last time i saw them!

and then i began missing hikmah all over again. and missing the YIMSA crowd and the Saman kids… and i began thinking of najiyyah and melisa and wondering if i’ll ever see them again. then i was thinking of tiara, hoping she’s ok. i was thinking of nana and ade and their little baby. i started thinking of ex-coursemates though i don’t particularly miss them–i was just going down the slippery slope.

and then suddenly, i just wanted to bawl i miss Melbourne! why cant i be there for the Commonwealth Games?! which, through my retroscope now, is a real jump in logic thoughts about teaching little kids.

i was one sad chick walking slowly in the rain with her black umbrella. after almost a week of merciless Australian sun, today saw grey skies and much rain.

i reached home. in fact i had just taken off my shoes when a call came in from ridwan. i picked it up and he was telling me about the YIMSA barbeque/OBTUS at the Kongen which had just ended. he was talking to me about our friends whom he met there. i, the emo sop who just came in from walking in the rain, cried. i wanna be there too!

i didnt feel like studying, what with the broody weather (excuses…) so mais and i watched a DVD in my room. she wasnt even supposed to be home! she was supposed to be out watching Macbeth in the city! see? the weather. i blame it all on the weather. but i was glad to have her company.

we watched Beyond Borders. my main gripe with it is that more weight was put into the love affair between the two main protagonists, played by Angelina Jolie and Clive Owen, than the humanitarian issues it portrays. the latter seemed to be a mere backdrop to their romance. but then again, it wasnt as though the movie was marketed to be anything other than "the quintessential romance of the millenium". i guess it was like watching Scrubs and expecting it to be ER–aint gonna happen. anyway, for the record, it’s still worth the watch, if only for Miss Lara Croft herself.

it’s still raining outside. but that’s ok. it’s nice to fall asleep to the scent of rain.

oh my god. oh my GOD! ER was aaaawesome! it was a busy day and everything was just buzzing. it was my first time drawing blood, hearing a murmur, putting a cast on someone, analyzing results of blood tests, doing a physical examination to check for liver failure… oh my God! it was just amazing! as you can see, my adrenaline’s still pumping  =) i saw a range of patients today, from back strain to post-op oedema to MI to shoulder dislocation to heat stroke to (suspected) bowel cancer to hip fracture… i would soooo loooove to give more details, but… irrespective of whatever the protocol is, i just dont think i should.

except for one. this is just too cute. a guy came in with typical chest pain. all symptoms point to angina pectoris. anyway, while the doctor i was shadowing was taking his history, we noticed he was getting a tad uncomfortable. so when the specific question of when the pain started was posed to him, there was a moment’s silence before he mumbled, "you know…i was doing some physical activity with my beloved at the time." his wife who was standing nearby was veeeery quiet. the doctor and i went, "u-huh", with very straight faces, but inside, we were thinking, "ah!"

flinders has a tendency to throw you into the abyss and say "go do it." which can really scare the shit out of you. but like the first time i had to go into the ward, i realized that i just had to overcome my personal fear and insecurities in the first five minutes and then! i get that exhilirating feeling that there’s no other job that i want to do.

but today i was lucky in the sense that i had The Perfect registrar to stick to like a leech 80% of the time during my shift. he was the perfect teacher–Hippocrates would be proud. he explained everything that he was doing and was so encouraging towards me taking part in the processes from the physical examination to diagnosis to treatment. the only daunting thing was him shooting questions at me, at times in front of patients. when i can actually answer them and he says, "good", i swear, my heart soars and i’m surprised i’ve actually retained stuff i’ve been learning in PBL in the last five weeks. when i have absolutely no clue, he gives me a mini tutorial on it when we get back to the ’station’. and then it’s time to move again. when he moves, i MOVE. i love him. he’s really good. i really love him. i should build a shrine.

for the 473295648538459th time, the voice in my head is screaming THERE’S SO MUCH TO LEARN!

ok lah ah… enough of medical stuff already  =)

jusssssst nooooow! when i was walking back after my shift, i saw my housemates, W and X walking towards the bus stop holding hands! X is aussie and W is Sri Lankan. they look so adorable together. actually, earlier this week i saw them both taking a ride on X’s motorcycle. W wasnt even wearing a helmet lah! i think love is in the air! tapi dah lah, elia. tak payah jadi mak senek. senek dah ada mak. i’m just a sucker for these things, you know.

a little blurp: mais and i visited Lisa today coz she’s sick. we brought her some food. anyway, for me it turned out to be visiting Lisa’s house. she’s renting a room in a property that’s Natural Heritage listed. it was built c1858. apparently, it had almond orchards, stables and a river running through its backyard in its heyday. if you know me, you know i’ve got a thing about old houses… this one, to be honest, needs a little maintenance on the outside but the inside was still high-ceilinged, antique-tiled, wooden-panelled loveliness. the bathroom was a marriage of old and new. i wish i had my camera with me.

alright then. i honestly think i spend way too much time blogging. it’s an addiction, i tell you.

I went to an MSF recruitment briefing last night. I know, I am but a mere student, the lowliest creature in this medical food chain. (So please God, as I gain more ecological significance with time, please let it not inflate my head or numb my heart. Amin.) I am not yet qualified to volunteer. But I thought I could gather some motivation from the session, if nothing else.

The talk provided me with inspiration as well as food for thought. My mate and I were atually discussing the motivation behind going on such missions, both altruistic and selfish, during our drive home. Well, I have an idea of the wonderful people friends who are reading my blog. (The rest of whom I am not aware of, those who are lurking in the dark corners of their rooms with THIS SCREEN in front of them–I can’t make any assumptions about you guys  =)  sorry) And I know you and I already know this: There are still so many populations around the world that are severely in need. Peoples who are oppressed and desecrated, who are at the mercy of disease, poverty and disaster, who really could use a little compassion from their fellow humankind. But ever so often, This Fact needs to be reiterated, for the problem does not resolve itself by stopping to think or talk about it. Their plight is real. It can only be alleviated by action. But you already know that. I’m just preaching to the converted.

So will I be another one of those who just talks? Or who just writes lengthy emotional arguments (especially in this age in which even preteens have blogs) but does nothing? Believe me. I need to pay off my loan. I want to buy that beautiful house with those beautiful things and bring up my children in it with my husband, I want to buy my parents a house and, if I end up elsewhere than Singapore, to visit them often, I want to pay for my siblings’ tertiary education, I want to travel… I want. So much… so much. So where does humanitarian work fit in the whole picture? I want that too. So much too. How do I do the checks and balances? How much am I willing to sacrifice?

Incidentally, one of the volunteers who came to talk to us went on his first mission as a registrar. Just to put things into perspective, for me, that would be the year I turn 30, insya Allaah. He had just come back from Liberia. Then again, the other volunteer was telling us that in the last mission she went to in Georgia, one of the doctors involved just celebrated her 70th birthday. So really, I should take it one step at a time. At any point in my life, kalau ada rezki, insya Allaah ada peluang. Di samping itu, dari hari ke hari pun boleh tolong orang, kan?

It felt so nice to have someone to speak to, Live!, in malay today! I met Zura, a Malaysian post grad student doing International Relations. I swear, she is so sweet and friendly and, simply, nice. (I’m keeping a tally, in my course alone, I am crushing on 3 guys and 2 girls. Unfortunately (?) one of the girls is married. Tough luck. I actually think I’m bi, sometimes. Thank God, Ridwan’s a guy.) (I’m KIDDING about being bi ok! Cant trust what you put in the net nowadays.) Anyway I met Zura once at Zuhr and again at a gathering in the evening.

Yup, I attended crashed a sisters only gathering this evening (one of them recently got married and it was a surprise belated bridal shower for her) and made new friends from different backgrounds. I’m happy. It might not seem much but I was craving for it. There’s actually hardly any time some days to walk up to the prayer room in the main campus from the hospital. Each time I do, I wish a little that I’ll meet people in there-my Muslim sisters–even for a few minutes. I feel so estranged from my community. Today, at zuhr, I not only met a few, I was told of a gathering! I postponed my ER shift to tomorrow just so I could go. Priorities, eh? But it was the right choice! Besides, I finally met the coordinator of the iqra’ classes. Now that I know what time it is on Sunday and what to expect, I can start teaching kiddies again! One of the girls just now brought her son and daughter. Salma and Umar–I played with them and they were soooooo cute!

Today, the day itself was one of those enrichingly interesting ones. I liked it  =)  We had a Cultural Awareness Day so we had lectures and a video presentation on the Aborigines. It helped us appreciate the history and the health issues of the Indigenous people so as to be better health care providers. We walked over to Warriparinga. There, we had more discussions and were treated to bush (and not so bush) food along with several traditional dances.

While I empathize with the grief of the Aborigines and Torres Strait Islanders for what happened in the past, I dont think I can ever fully comprehend the impact of the atrocities generations after. Not emotionally, to be specific. That’s my personal shortcoming. However, I see clearly the problems, health and others, that have arisen as a repercussion of the arrogance and ignorance of the conquerors in yesteryears. I sincerely hope that Conciliation comes to a peaceful conclusion for the Indigenous peoples of Australia. Even more so, I hope their state of living a Fourth World life in a First World nation comes to an end within my lifetime–idealistic but not impossible.

As they say in Kaurna, nakkota! Till next time…