Man: Civilised vs Barbarous

As I was doing revision the other day, I came across a very interesting remark in my Unit 4 Literature text, Alias Grace by Margaret Atwood. It says,

"The difference between a civilised man and a barbarous fiend- a madman, say- lies, perhaps merely in a thin veneer of willed self-restraint."

The 'man' in this context, refers not to the humankind, but to the male sex in particular. It was said in the context of sexual desires. The text was previously discussing the sexual inclination of men, and how women became victims of the lust and personal desires of men.

Hence, in plain words, this remark is saying that, what separates and differentiates say, the fiend who tortured little Nurin from the other 'gentlemen' in our society, is that the latter willfully restraints their actions while the former does not and has thereby given in to his lust. In other words, the remark says that what goes through the minds of all guys is the same. The difference lies in whether those fantasies remain in the mind or are they being put into action.

Hmm.... how interesting... I do not know what goes through the male faculty of thoughts and intelligence, but I sure wonder if I will be surprised and shocked by the discovery of what goes through the minds of these people who cross my path every single day. Will it be an epiphany or will it be an anti-climax?

Guys, do leave a comment to shed light on this issue. Girls, feel free to add on or express yourselves.

Living with the ultimate Choleric

While everyone else was enjoying the Raya holidays, I was stuck in the college. Yes, it's true! Sad, but true... I have only Monday off. Besides not having more holidays, I still had to go back to college on Friday night for CF Leaders' Retreat. We stayed in college for the night and the meeting ended at noon the next day. So there goes half of my holiday!

Well, I really shouldn't complain about it. After all, I am doing the Lord's work. Frankly, the meeting was a much needed one. We really needed to review what the CF had been doing all these while and set goals and some substantial guidelines for the CF. At least, we need to set our purpose right. I can' deny that it was a VERY fruitful meeting, for it was indeed fruitful. We shared our past CF experience (of which I have none) and other stuffs as well. Then we review the purpose and direction of the CF. It was interesting to be reminded again of the purpose of the CF's existence. Then we came out with this 3-page long constitution for the CF. Man, I thought I was in Law class with all the 'articles' and 'amendments'! In the first place, I didn't know CFs need constitutions. Well, it apparently does!

The most interesting thing throughout the 1-day-1-night retreat was having to live with "The Ultimate Choleric". I have never in my life seen anyone with as strong and willful a character as hers. While we were analysing the Great Commission in Matthew 28 as told by Mr. Michael and applying it to the context of our CF, she was all the while telling us what to do and what to write instead of allowing us the free time to brainstorm (which I think is the main purpose of the activity). Before I can have the time to conceive a thought in my mind, she was by my side telling us what we were supposed to do! I had to hint that maybe she 'wanna help the other group instead'. Then all through the meeting, she was asserting her opinion on everyone and telling me what I should be doing. To be very frank, I was annoyed, and my patience was exhausted. Finally, Wen Shan tactfully asked if she had taken the personality test and that if she is a Choleric. Well, everyone knew what that meant, maybe with the exception of herself.

Unfortunately, she shared the same room with the girls, and her love for Scrabble drove her to compel everyone else to join her in the game for the whole night till 1.48am. Goodness me! Everyone was so bored. Some were fiddling with their cameras, some were just chatting, and some were half asleep. Still, she insisted on continuing the game, so much so that she volunteered to do other people's turn! What a game! Finally, someone messed up the point system and the game had to be terminated. Good grief!

Being half a Choleric myself, crossing path with other Cholerics means a clash of personality. But I guess sometimes God puts people like these in my path to refine my patience and train me to accept others just as they are, just as He loves me just as I am. It was also an experience of 'casting crowns': to cast my crown at His feet in exchange for His spirit of humility.There are things to give thanks for, though. At least she is not in my family and I don't have to bear with her for the rest of my life!

Everything said and done, I am reminded that this retreat is really not about her but about the CF. In speaking so, I truly thank God for a very committed committee! (Now I know from where the word 'committee' is derived.) And once again, I am encouraged by the promise in Isaiah 40:28-31. After all, it's His work that I'm doing. I really shouldn't rely on my own strength in doing God's work. How can I?

Too close for comfort

When were you closest to anyone? I sure would like to think that it is when I'm with my loved ones and friends. Unfortunately, many a time, it is a stranger who shares this closeness. Scratching your head? You'll know what I mean if you are one who frequently takes public transport, especially during peak hours.

Having to take the public transport every week day, I know what it means to be really close to someone. Especially during peak hours like 8am+ and 5pm+, you are forced into the close company of strangers, whether or not you like it, of course, unless you don't mind waiting for a longer period of time for the next train/ bus. Well, as for me, I have neither the luxury of time nor the patience.

The moment the doors slide open, the battle for space begins. Everyone tries to shove and push to secure a spot in the train, however small it may be. As long as they get both their feet beyond the open doors, other parts come in second. Hence, we have the hilarious situations when guys get their backpacks stuck in between the closed doors and the edges of clothing are seen between the doors. I try to be civilised and let others go first, after all, this is what we were taught in moral classes, but somehow, people just don't give way to civility. Those from the back start pushing if you don't make way, and deep inside, I realise that if I don't do the same, I will never get on the train.

Finally, I am in the train, and when the doors close, I realise that I am trapped in a small space with at least more than 50 other strangers. Claustrophobia sets in! Not only so, I find myself in close proximity to these people whom I hardly know. In fact, they are total strangers. Literally! I find my body being dangerously and uncomfortably close to them. Sometimes, our hands touch and, as though there is a current, both hands are drawn apart in a reflex, followed by a muttered apology, as if it is a great sin to be in contact with each other. How ironical that sounds, when you are surrounded by a sea of crowd!

Four more stations to go!

The longer period of time I spend in the train, the more conscious I am of the apparent odour coming from those around me. There are smells of Romance, Curious, Calvin Klein and Hugo. There are smells of mere body odour that makes me wonder when was the last time these people took a long good shower, or perhaps they fell into a drain prior to boarding the train. The mixture of odours turns the sweet smell to unbearably strong stench and the smell of sweat into... well, I shall not proceed.

Three more stations to go!

When the lady in front of me finally decides to remove her baggage from the seat next to her, for which I assume she bought a ticket since they occupy one whole seat or perhaps more, I seize the opportunity and force my bum into the limited space. After having done so, I begin to regret. I realise that the man to my right is eyeing me from top to toe and it really makes me feel awkward and uncomfortable. The woman to my left is carrying a plastic bag from which water is dripping. And I wonder where does the liquid come from, until I finally peer into the bag and see that she had just bought some fresh fish from the market. Then when the train finally jerked to a stop, the man to my right is suddenly a couple of inches nearer to me.

Two more stations to go!

Just when I think that things cannot be anymore worse, I am proven wrong. Handphones start to ring as if it is nobody's business. I am treated to a wide variety of music of all genres. From Jay Chou, Westlife and Siti Nurhaliza to Richard Clayderman, P. Ramlee and Bollywood. Oh, not forgetting the homophonic 'Jingle Bell's. Then they talk as though they are in the comfort and privacy of their living rooms, speaking in maximum volume, in languages which will really contaminate my hearing. I know it is very rude to eavesdrop, Mummy has often taught me not to, but in this case, I really can't help overhearing the whole conversations. It is not as if I want to and would like to, but it just cannot be otherwise, of course unless I'm deaf, which I am not.

One more station to go!

The man in front of me starts to cough and the woman to his left starts to sneeze. I was taught to cover my mouth whenever I do so, but I guess not all Mums and Dads teach their kids to do so. Well, besides that, one of their hands is clutching their bags which I think must contain at least 10 bars of pure gold, and the other is holding onto the railing, clinging on for their dear lives, as though the train is going to go topsy-turvy anytime. Where is there a third hand to cover their mouths?

Next station, Hang Tuah.

Finally, I've reached my station. I just cannot wait to get out of this confinement, but not without putting up a last fight. As the doors open, I have to push my way through, rubbing against a thousand other torsos on the way, muttering a million 'excuse me's just to battle for whatever limited space that is left for me. At the same time, another sea of homo sapiens is gushing into the train.

Fresh air at last, and space, wonderfully precious space! I never know how precious they are previously.

2/365

What a weekend!! Saturday morning, I had to wake up at 6am and go all the way to Subang Jaya to sit for my SAT. I reached there about 7am, checked out my seat and classroom and found myself sitting in front of Ian (as always, because of our names), and then went for breakfast at McD. What a lousy McD! The percolator, or something like that was not working and all that they could give us was Milo. We were fine with that, really, and we asked for iced Milo. Then they made us wait at least 15 minutes before the food arrive and it really annoys me since there was only 45 minutes left to the time of my exam. And when the 'iced Milo' finally came, it was Milo + ice in two different cups. Can't they understand simple English?

My SAT.... Well, that room was freezing cold and I was not allowed to switched seats as we were arranged in a certain order (which I really don't think this is the case, since no one led me to my seat). I was shivering all through the exam and can't even sit up properly. Just hope that it didn't affect me adversely..... The questions.... hmm... essay was fine, but I feel that the last paragraph I added in at the last minute was pretty lame and not very convincing. Anyway, it was not as bad as the reading section. There were so many big words!!! Goodness me! How was the paper over all? I really don't know. I've learnt not to place expectations on myself, as I have been disappointed a number of times previously. Just wait and see, I guess.... But the most extraordinarily pleasant thing was that Rodney actually remembered that I sat for my SAT on Saturday and he e-mailed to ask me how was it! How nice of him!

Then right after the test, after dropping Ian off at a bus station, we rushed back home to have our lunch, to shower and then rush down to Crowne Plaza Mutiara for the Friends Forever practice before our church 9th Anniversary Building Fund Raising Dinner. Even after all the rushing, we were more than an hour late. The jam... my goodness.... was just not perceivable! And then the second practice at 5pm was such a mess! People forgot their lines, forgot the dance steps, and was just lost on stage. Everyone started to feel the pressure and the stress and we just freaked out. Some even broke down and cried, including one who was the most unexpected. However, everything turned out well. In fact, it was VERY GOOD. Indeed, way beyond any one's expectations. Praise the Lord! The promise in 1 Peter 5:7 and Psalm 55:22 was such a comfort! Especially when doing His work for His glory, it is such a comfort to know that He is really the one who's bearing all the cares. And I've also come to realise how the tears of one man can bring about such great impact....

Then on Sunday, although there was no Friends Forever practice (yay!), I reached home only about 4pm because I attended Baby Dorothy's full moon party cum Joshua and Josiah's 6th birthday party. Baby Dorothy is such a beauty! So small and so fragile, yet so full of life.... Indeed, she is one of God's amazing creations. Really makes me marvel in awe at His greatness and superiority.

So, it has been two long days, exceptionally long days! And very tiring too! I went to college the next day (at 7.45am for CF committee meeting) feeling so tired and drained. I was literally dozing off in class! *oops!* And Miss Cumareson's voice in Literature class does not help at all.... However, it is a blessed assurance that when we come before Him, He will give us rest, as He has promised in Matthew 11:28. Very eventful 2/365!

About Turn

Yesterday, as I turned on the radio while having lunch, it was playing Cat Steven's "Morning Has Broken". It is such a beautiful song, that I decided to seize this chance and just enjoy the music as it is, regardless of the memories it triggered. As I turned on the radio for some company while studying, again the same song was being played, and the most peculiar thing was that, this song was again brought to my attention when I checked my inbox the same night; my brother sent me a beautiful mail with this song playing in the background. Whenever I listen to this song, it never fails to trigger grief and sorrow within me for the person who sang this song-- Cat Stevens a.k.a Yusuf Islam.

For those of you who have not heard of him, Cat Stevens was an icon in the music industry back in the 70's or 80's. He sang many of the songs with which we are familiar today, among them are "Morning Has Broken" and "Father And Son", which is one of my favourites. However, some years back, at what was purportedly his last concert, he announced that he had converted to Islam and had changed his mane to Yusuf Islam. Since then, he has stepped out of the secular entertainment world. After the 911 incident, he was denied access into his own country because of his religion and has since become a prominent figure in the world of international relations, as he became an ambassador to reconcile the West and the Middle East.

"Morning Has Broken" is not an unfamiliar song in churches, at least not in mine. We sing it as one of the hymns, and one certainly cannot deny the beauty of the lyrics. It is so full of praise for the ultimate Creator who gave us life. It truly saddens me to think of what has become of the person who sang it so beautifully. He made an about turn, and turned his back on the one true God whom he so adored before. Did he not find fulfillment in Jesus Christ? Does Islam really fill the gap within every soul, and his, that longs to be filled with something from the divine? Or was his about turn a result of something else?

He was disappointed by the way he was treated by other Christians. They do not practise what they preach. At least so I heard. As to its authenticity, I cannot ascertain. But one thing I do know: there were people who were turned away while in search of the truth, because people who claimed to be Christians were not practising what they preach.

Hypocrisy, indeed.... one of the 'defects' in the church which Paul had highlighted in one of his letters. In fact, calling it a defect is an understatement. Defects can be easily mended, and minor defects will not even have a significant effect. Instead, they often go unnoticed. Hypocrisy is more like an epidemic, a deadly virus, like SARS or the Bird Flu; it spreads quickly, and affects not only those in close proximity, but its effects are extended even to those who are on the outside. How sad! Sad, but true!

Over time, we see how hypocrisy affects the church, we also recall times when we ourselves are affected and pissed off by the hypocrisy of others. Well, I myself have certainly experienced it. Yet, I do not think this issue has been effectively addressed. Christians are still living in their make-believe paradise, oblivious to the watching eyes of outsiders. We are often the target of close monitoring by the world. Why? Because we preach a much needed message of love and care, yet it is one that is incomprehensible to the rest of the world. So, they are looking at us for some substantial acts that truly substantiate what we preach. However, time and again, we have disappointed them.

I do not know what effect the story of Cat Stevens has on you, but it certainly makes me want to change the way I have been conducting myself, so that my life reflects the message of love that Christianity bears. We may pray for Cat Stevens and hope that he will make another about turn, but faith is accompanied with actions. The change that needs to take place is the change in our lives, the change in the definition we give to the word 'Christian'. I cannot bear to have another Cat Stevens a.k.a Yusuf Islam in the world. I have more than enough grief already. Besides that, we never know the extent of the effect Stevens' conversion has on the world at large, after all, he was an icon.