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! 🙂

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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 biggrin 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).

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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.

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