A year of sacrifice

I sacrificed my entire 2011 so I can have better years ahead.

And thank God I survived.

Hope next year will be an amazing one!

 

Protected: Did You call?

This post is password protected. To view it please enter your password below:

Password:

 

Protected: No where else.

This post is password protected. To view it please enter your password below:

Password:

 

Protected: Dear God

This post is password protected. To view it please enter your password below:

Password:

 

Third world.

I no longer update my blog extensively but the event that happened to me today really pushed my buttons and made me very, very angry; I felt writing about it was necessary.

Most of you know that I take the public transport back home from college right? No? For those of you who don’t know, well, I take the public transport back home. It takes me ±2 hours to get back, ±1.5 hours… if I run like Usain Bolt, from station to station and station to mi casa. I am sure all of you can imagine how tiring it can be. But going out of breath after sprinting to catch the earliest available train (LRT) and bus (Rapid KL) isn’t the thing that bothers me most when taking the public transport. It’s the people that I meet and places that I pass along the way back that irks me the most.

Try walking pass the Pasar Seni train station. EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. As I walk down the escalator, I am always greeted by the same old beggar (everyday!) and I see many other homeless people sleeping on the ground near the bus station. Sometimes, if I am that unlucky, I will bump into this Chinese lady who talks to herself OUT LOUD non-stop! There was this one time I saw her streaming hysterically under the bridge in front of the bus station in some Chinese dialect I am not familiar with. Crazy or not?! Not just that! There’s this strong, pungent smell of urine I have no choice but to inhale every time I am at the bus station. I think I might have gone a little retarded having so much ammonia gas seeped into my brain. This is not the kind of environment I was raised in when I was young. I never saw people beg or lie on the streets on a daily basis. I never encountered people with mental illnesses so all this is almost like a culture-shock to me.

I actually enjoy taking the public transport. I rarely ever take the public transport prior to college and I always acted like a jakun when taking the LRT. Ask Khaled or Einul. Taking the LRT with me had always been an embarrassing and rather traumatizing experience Now that I take the public transportation everyday and have my own Touch and Go travel card, I have turned into a PTT (Public Transportation Taker) Pro, so much so that I have memorized the entire LRT route by now. It used to be fun but not anymore. When college is getting tougher and the amount of work to do is not getting any lesser, anyone would want get home early in the most comfortable way possible! Malaysian public transportation is FAR from early and FAR from comfortable and it’s just too bad I live so far away from my college that I have to take it almost every single day.

Today was one of those bad public transport days whereby I was enraged by a certain passenger on the Rapid KL bus. The bus that I take all the time tend to go through the ghettoest of places within the metropolis they call Kuala Lumpur. The people who gets on the bus are naturally ghetto. Not the kind of people you would feel comfortable sitting next to or near at.

So—today—there was this dude seated directly opposite me. He had a packet of fruit in his hands. I could hear him munch on his guava. He seemed to be enjoying his guava. Fine. Didn’t bother me. Not until he was done eating and he threw the packet filled with leftover assam sauce UNDER THE SEAT. His actions didn’t really bother me (not physically, at least) but as a civil citizen *ahem*, I felt compelled to say something. But seriously, his actions were too much. To throw that filthy plastic bag onto the floor of a public bus only displayed his third-world mentality and selfish act. I wanted to voice out how I felt about him throwing the plastic bag under his seat but didn’t have the guts to do so.

And my story doesn’t end just yet. After awhile he started chewing off some wrapper (looks like paper)… of what? sweets, drugs, God knows! Not only I was disgusted by his act of chewing it, he SPAT them pieces of paper out onto the floor! And who was sitting in front of him? — ME! And what drove me off the edge was when one piece of paper flew out from his mouth and hit my leg! I was wearing shorts and obviously I felt disgusted! That man (I wish he’ll one day choke on his guava and die) had the audacity to place his FILTHY HANDS on my leg and wiped the spot where the paper hit me. WHAT THE FUCK?! I SWEAR I COULD HAVE FILED A LAWSUIT ON HIM FOR BATTERY! Section 29 Criminal Justice Act 1988! Go to hell asshole! I so wanted to yell at him but I didn’t wanna cause a big hoo-hah or get ass raped so I just gave him a you-watch-out glare.

Boiled with so much anger, I left my seat and walked down to the place where the other passengers stood. I stood up throughout the last 30 minutes of the journey. Totally ruined my otherwise happy day (math class was canceled).

 

Protected: I can. Therefore, I will.

This post is password protected. To view it please enter your password below:

Password:

 

Protected: Matthew who?

This post is password protected. To view it please enter your password below:

Password:

 

9/11

I just watched a documentary on the 9/11 attack on Discovery Channel. That inspired me to write another blog post. After watching it, I feel fortunate that my country do not have to face a tragedy like this and secondly, I feel so fortunate to be still alive and to have my close ones with me.

I was only 9 when this tragic event  hit the United States. I remember sitting in front of the TV and there was a telecast of the collapsing of the World Trade Center on the local morning news. Who knew that about a decade later I would stand in front of where the twin towers of the World Trade Center once stood and see the site with my very own eyes! Wow.

Come to think of it, the 9/11 attack did affect my life. If the 9/11 attack did not happen, the Youth Exchange and Study (YES) Program might not come about and I won’t be able to do all the amazing things that I got to do earlier this year and befriend the many amazing people that I met while I was on the foreign exchange program. Some 3000 people died from the attack but I feel that, because of them—somehow—I got to live. I lived my American Dream.

I had the rare opportunity to be exposed to the lives of ordinary Americans from all walks of life; to be able to experience the struggles of the lower/middle class-income (I know of a woman whose husband is disabled. She is a paralegal by day and she cleans after work to earn extra wages); the luxury life of the rich (lived with a couple who owns a freaking huge house the size of a mansion in St. Charles, Missouri); to know of brave men and women whose everyday lives are at stake protecting their country they love so dearly; to be able to travel to different places around America; to be able to touch and inspire the people I meet and have them touch and inspire me.

I am not sure if there will be anyone reading this but thank you, AFS. Thank you, YES. Thank you, U.S. State of Department. Thank you, USA. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. My gratitude goes beyond words can express.

R.I.P to those who died from the attacks.

 

Protected: :(

This post is password protected. To view it please enter your password below:

Password:

 

Six months later…

Hello.

It has been 46 days since I left my American hometown, America’s Dairyland: Wisconsin, 41 days since I left the United States of America, 39 days since I got back. Many things have happened during my stay in the United States that I don’t even know where to start or what to say. Too bad I never had the time or opportunity to pen my thoughts down or blog about them.

My six-month stint in the United States has been life-changing. Ever since that final SPM paper which was Chemistry and even more so after I boarded the flight out of Kuala Lumpur, my life has changed 360 degrees and it has never been the same. New bunch of friends. A new country. A new home. A new family. I know they were only temporary but the relationships built were sincere and genuine and hopefully will be forever.

I won’t say that that six-months have shaped me into a better and much positive person because I know I haven’t been very positive and optimistic throughout the program. I came back whining, complaining and bitching ten times more than I used to. The new Matthew is very spoiled, whiny, ignorant, immature, unambitious and irresolute. I’ve lost my competitive spirit and much of my leadership. Sometimes I am disgusted at myself because I know, with conviction, that I used to be not like this and I know I was so much better than who I’ve become today.

Before I embarked onto this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, I had such high hopes and expectations of the United States and what I am gonna do there because I have been wanting this opportunity for the longest time ever and everything that I’ve worked hard for was for this day to come. Those who grew up with me should know this very well. Anyway, when goals and expectations are set up high, there are bound to be failures and disappointments.

While I was in the United States, I found myself disappointed on several occasions and I struggled to see the bright side of it. When I was upset, I ran to the people closest to me and complained. I complained so much that complaining became a habit. In secondary school, I did complain but much less than while I was in the US. I would like to think that, for most of the times in school, I have persevered, in studies, debates, in running different clubs and societies, in being a leader (or at least tried to be the best one that I can be) While I am very grateful to have met very supportive people throughout the program, I think I have relied on them way too much and my friends, in turn, have put up with me far too much that they spoiled me. Apart from that, I think I took my new found freedom for granted.

Returning back and re-adapting back to normality proved to be a challenge for me because what was normal was no longer normal to me and the fact that I am no longer the same person I used to be makes it all even harder. I do not know how to describe it in words but I felt lost. I was facing some sort of personality-crisis. I no longer knew myself because I have changed so much, unconsciously. Furthermore, I felt as though I have lost my sense of direction in life. In an email I sent to Paula, my host mom, I wrote:

I felt the AFS program has blindfolded me and turned me around in circles and once I returned, I am expected to find my way back in life. I no longer knew what I want to do or what to achieve.

Thank God I am currently having a 3-week break from college because this is exactly what I need at the exact right time of my life (I started college on the day following the AFS post-return camp in Shah Alam) I need time to look back at my experience in America and to reconstruct my life, my goals, my dreams, my priorities. Most importantly, I need time to breathe.

Have I been a great ambassador of Malaysia? No. I don’t think I was an accurate mirror of how typical Malaysians are like. For one, I hate rice and I made it a statement while I was there. Haha.  If there is anything that I did that showed that I was a worthy participant of AFS and a deserving foreign-exchange scholarship recipient  from the U.S. Department of State, is that I worked very hard to impress (sometimes way too hard). But trying too hard was a mistake because I got tired at the end of it and then I stopped trying.

Do I ever regret being on the AFS program? No, absolutely not. I think being a foreign exchange student to the United States was the best thing that ever happened to me. Although I am not the person I wished to become once I returned but I really did gain a lot from this program and I did things I never would have imagined doing. It really pushed me way out of my comfort zone. Also, like what Nambee said at the pre-departure orientation in D.C., we foreign exchange students have connections. I know for sure that if ever I return to the States, I’ll always have a place to go and I’ll always be welcomed back… back home. Darn it! I miss Wisconsin!

Guess what I found when I skimmed through my older blog posts? This! I highly doubt that 14-year-old Matthew would ever imagine that in three years, he’ll be able to cross 4 states out from that list; to stand in front of the Statue of Liberty, visit the 103rd floor of the Sears Tower, walk on the streets of Boston and have Philly cheesesteak for dinner. Thank you AFS for making my dreams come true. Thank you Bert and Abbey. I am forever grateful to the both of you.

And there is another important group of people I would like to thank: my friends from secondary school. The following is an important extract of my ‘Dear Me’ letter which was required to be written by all the AFS participants prior to our departure:

Matthew, in six months time, I hope that you will change — be a more compassionate person. To be a leader that you always wanted to be. Be humble. And remember your friends that have made your dreams come true.

Yours sincerely, me.

I know I have not been in touch with most of you since I left and even after I got back. Sorry Things just got so different and I was caught up in so many activities. Being in a college far away from you guys makes it so much tougher for me to re-connect.

I need your support guys. I feel so lost and at this point of my life, I really need someone to drag me out of it. Help!