I’ve been wanting to blog in a while (even have it all mapped out in my head) but somehow I can’t seem to properly find time to sit down and blog. So instead of spending time writing out a proper post, I’ve decided that you, dear readers, are worthy enough to read something else worth reading. Truly proper blog posts by other proper writers. Because frankly, I’m starting to feel that I’m becoming less and less of a writer. My literary skills (or whatever they were before this) are slowly descending into murky rivers.
Aaanyway. Today The Twin tagged myself and a few other friends in this post on Facebook. It’s actually a link to what someone posted about dating girls who read and girls who don’t. Actually, they are two different posts.
The first is this: You Should Date An Illiterate Girl by Charles Warnke. When I started reading it, I thought, what on earth is this nonsense. And then halfway through the first page, I went “oh”. I cannot believe it took me that long to realize what he was writing about. Proof that I need to get back into the habit of reading.
And when you’re done with that, read this: Date A Girl Who Reads by Rosemarie Urquico. It’s in response to the first article.
I feel like both articles have their own point of views, and both are true in several aspects. I mean, who hasn’t met a guy who has said that he would never want to date a girl who’s smart and who actually knows and talks about things that matter (no, things that matter do not include celebrities and their lives and fashion). On the flip side, who hasn’t met a girl who’s so crazy over books, she’d devote her nights to reading into the wee hours of the morning, and go hunting for one good book, which would then probably cost her a bomb, but she’d get it anyway.
Sorry about the swear word in the image. Rest assured I still don't use them.
I’m sharing these two articles because I believe that they’re worth reading and pondering over, not just in the relationship aspect, but how we view well-read people and people who couldn’t care for books at all.
As for me, regardless of what people say, I’ll make my narratives richer, my supporting cast more colourful, my typeface, if I dare, even bolder, just because I know it’d be completely worth it. Reading provides you with the framework to create your own interpretation of the world and all its glorious wonders. There’s a certain passion that comes with reading, a certain delight that you will not find in any other corner of the earth. A pleasure I believe I’d never grow out of.
It’s been a pretty busy two weeks. I thought that it being the holidays, I’d have enough time to finish studying and still find time to relax a little, but I very quickly found myself so hard-pressed for time. All I have to do is sit down, flip open my book, and the next thing I know, four hours have gone by, just like that. Time is a ninja, I tell you.
Honestly, if it wasn’t for The Twin, I wouldn’t even have completed studying. Many people have been telling me that I have to really put effort in, and always lean on God, but somehow the only person who can make it all really go through and settle in is her, which isn’t surprising because I suppose it has always been that way from the beginning of time. All she has to do is say one word, and I’d go back to my books in a jiffy. A bit like an obedient little puppy, which is kind of weird, and also slightly exaggerated.
But I’m grateful for that, because even though so many other people and events have been such great driving forces to get me to where I am, she’s definitely, hands down, the biggest driving force ever. Case in point: these two weeks have been so busy, but she has somehow kept me grounded and helped me prioritize. Which helped so much.
I don’t know what it’s like to not have a twin, but I suppose having one is something very special.
The Twin is probably reading this, and she’s probably gonna want to scold me for wasting my time on this, so I’ll clarify that I only spent 10 minutes on this. No scolding k. Thanks. =P
Oh, and if you (the person reading this) don’t have a twin, well, don’t feel too sorry for yourself. =P
Here’s to the second semester and to The Twin starting medical school (hurray!).
I shouldn’t be blogging now, but I just thought of sharing a short reflection, so here’s a quickie.
Exams can be pretty brutal sometimes. Some of us experience its brutality more often than others, the rest of us watch and grimace.
Unfortunately, Exams took a pretty good swipe at me this time. It just about nearly knocked me off my feet and because of that I most likely have to retake a paper.
Now, under normal circumstances, I’d be too ashamed to even talk about not doing well for exams, but coming here and observing other cultures has helped me to realize that it’s mostly pride that holds us back and makes us not want to admit and accept the fact that sometimes, we just misstep. The Malaysian Chinese call it kiasu-ism, and it pretty much affects all of us. The thing is, I now know that I want no part in it. At all.
Don’t get me wrong; a little competition is always good. But when it gets to the point where we are expected to constantly hide the fact that we aren’t perfect, that’s a little too far out. It’s like twisting an ankle, and then making sure you don’t stand up in the presence of others so that they won’t know that you’re hurt.
Alright, I exaggerate, but you catch my drift. At the other end of the spectrum, I’m not saying that it’s good to perform below par. I’m not saying that we shouldn’t feel ashamed at all. All I’m trying to point out is that there should be other driving factors to make us do better, and not merely to please your ego.
I am also rather against the idea that if you fail, it’s because God wants you to fail. That’s almost as if all we’re doing is finding someone else to put the blame on. And because God isn’t a person standing in front of you, it’s alright to blame Him. In fact, if we actually think about it, most of the time, we don’t do well because we don’t put in enough effort, or there was something wrong with our methods, or we were too proud to accept counsel (or at least, I was).
Anyway, back to the topic: I didn’t do well, and will almost definitely have to retake the paper. Initially, it came as a huge blow. To my ego of course. My over-inflated ego. But slowly things were put into perspective.
After a slightly prickly Skype session with my parents, I sort of realized that I could have done a lot better. It was right there, waiting for me to reach for it, but I just let it slip between my fingers. Before the Exam-that-took-a-swipe-at-me, people used to tell me, “Oh, you’re in medical school now, don’t expect to get good grades. It’s normal to not do well. Just aim to pass.” That isn’t bad advice, because honestly, even aiming to pass can be rather stressful sometimes. But now, I don’t really want to just pass anymore. I want to do better than just passing.
My father told me that my mum remarked to him, “If she can’t do well for her exams, what if she becomes a mediocre doctor? I wouldn’t like seeing a doctor who doesn’t really know his subject matter well enough.” Okay, those aren’t her exact words, but you get the gist of it.
And it got me thinking. Do I really want to be a mediocre doctor? Sure, most of the time, people would walk in with general colds and stuff like that, but do I really want to just be so-so? I know that scoring 100% in exams does not guarantee that you will be a good physician, but it’s a start. Your basis has to be there.
I know what I want now. It’ll be a rough ride, but I’ll make it through. With Him, I know I can, and I will. I might not be the best of the lot, but I’ll give my best.
And I honestly see the retake as a major blessing. A chance to do better, to better understand my subject matter.
Give thanks in all circumstances.
1 Thessalonians 5:18a
*Yeah, the post is long, but it only took me several minutes to get this all out, so it still counts as a quickie. x)
Three weeks flew by so quickly.
Three weeks of rest and rejuvenation.
Three weeks to put things in order, to reassess and prioritize.
And here it is, the very last day of my first three week long Christmas break here in snowless Krakow (Yes, it stopped snowing, so it’s not white anymore. The weather’s kind of messed up).
Honestly, I’ve never been so grateful for holidays. I remember back in primary and secondary school, I never knew when my holidays were, or how long they lasted. I guess I never really cared because 1. admit it, Malaysia has far too many holidays. Terrible for productivity; and 2. I never had to work this hard.
Sure, I studied a lot in Malaysia. I got involved in extra-curricular which ate up a bulk of my time. Sure, completing Cambridge A-levels in 10 months (more or less) was kind of stressful at times. But being a medical student takes it all to a whole new level. There will always be 50 more pages to read, understand and digest, always a new term to comprehend, always a new structure to learn by heart. It teaches you the true meaning of the word ‘hectic’. And you finally figure out why God gave us the Sabbath.
I’ve even learned to look forward to the weekends, when I used to just let it pass, because I never really needed them as much as I do now.
I’m not looking forward to resuming medical school very much because that means a new cycle of tests and exams (as if the dark circles around my eyes aren’t bad enough). But then I realize that it gives me another chance to marvel at how God knew just how to make us, and another chance to thank Him for making me more or less normal (you know, without trisomies and stuff), and going back to school doesn’t seem so bad after all. =)
So here’s to the new year! Na zdrowie!
P.S. If you haven’t already seen it, here‘s the video of the 2012 New Year celebratory fireworks that I recorded at Krakow’s main square.
P.P.S. And here‘s the video of the brilliant fireworks display in London, which you’ve probably seen because it was all over Facebook.
Dec 23
This gallery contains 6 photos.
Frozen water has finally descended upon the blessed soil that is Kraków, Poland. Beautiful. Simply magnificent. How marvelous, how wonderful indeed is the Lord of all creation. I concede that this isn’t ‘real snow’, as the Europeans would promptly tell you, because snow should be thicker than that. And also, apparently it’s not as likable [...]
I've never been so happy to see Malay words :)
Helloooo people. I know I’ve left this blog unattended for more than a month now, but now I am back! Exams and laziness make a terrible duo.
I’ve learnt so many things since I started medical school and I’m pretty sure there’s lots more to learn. Probably will share them with you one day, but not now. Now I’ll tell you a little tale. :D
I had just returned from school at around noon, and being exam season, I was so physically exhausted from the lack of sleep and mentally tired from studying for exams and preparing for classes at the same time. Not an easy task when you need to cover a few hundred pages for one test and around 10 more pages for each class the following day. On the way home, I had planned the rest of the day out in my head: reach home, nap, get up, eat, study, eat, study, sleep *I know, it sounds terribly nerdy. But you wouldn’t want a future doctor who knows next to nothing, would you?*
So at around 12.45pm when I was about to go to bed, the doorbell rang. I went to open the door and lo and behold! there was a tiny mailman with a huge grey moustache, standing there with three brown boxes at his feet!
Mailman: Dzień dobry. Trzy paczek (Good day. Three packets)
Me: Dzień dobry. *stares*
House mate: I think those are your packages lah.
Me: *stares some more* *peeks at label on packages* *sees the word “XIU” on the label* AH MY BOXES ARE HERE! *jumps a little*
Mailman: *stares* *takes out papers and a pen* Dla pani. (For you)
Me: Okay. *grins* *signs papers* Dziękuję bardzo! (Thank you very much!)
Mailman: Proszę bardzo. (You’re very welcome)
Me: *still grinning* Dziękuję bardzo! *starts squealing*
I’m pretty sure the mailman now thinks that I’m mad. But I was so excited! I still am! I dragged all three boxes into my room and impatiently pulled apart the many layers of packaging to get to the boxes and their contents. My poor housemates, they had to put up with my persistent squeals (*squeals* Sambal! *squeals *Kuey Teow leh! *squeals* Oh am gee! MILO!)
By the time I was done opening all three boxes, my room was quite a sight. Brown paper strewn all over, lined with packaging plastic. Packets upon packets of curry mix and every other kind of premixed cooking powders. A huge packet of dried chili. More than 2kg of Milo. Glass bottles of soy sauce. Highlight pens, because they are so pricey here, along with plastic wraps for books, because apparently Poles don’t use them, and hence don’t sell them. Beautiful bed sheets, because my mum insisted that I should have them.
Come to think about it, I don’t know why I argued with my mum about the bed sheets. I was so insistent on her not buying new ones for me and sending them over, and yet, one of the first things I did when I finished unpacking my packages was to change my bed sheet into one of the three that she sent me, and then stand back to marvel at how it matches my quilt cover so well. I guess I do the dumbest things sometimes. So glad that my mum still sent those bed sheets over. I absolutely <3 them to bits.
…who also received her packages yesterday, and she totally understood my excitement. She understood why I squealed, why I did little jumps, why my excitement was still so obvious the next day. And we both agreed that it was more than receiving food or clothes or bed sheets. It was as if we received a little something from home.
The magic was in somehow knowing that the people who care most for you probably spent time bickering about what brand of soy sauce was better, which bed sheet looked nicer, how many packets of dried noodles to send, how to pack the things into little boxes and what went in which box. Then those same people hauled it all over to the post office, made the necessary payments and prayed that it will reach you intact.
Most of all, it is in feeling warm inside that comes with the realization that at the end of the day, the people that matter most to me are the people who have devoted a huge part of their lives to me: My Family. My Ohana. <3
