So here i am, basking in the coolness of Adrian Wong's room, shielded from the harsh tropical singaporean climate. Every morning has been a grueling task of hauling water from the tall hill that looms behind Adrian's house. Even though the sinaporean has basic amenties such as the air conditioner, plumbing and infrastructure has been a scarcity. We have to water his cattle and pigs every morning at the crack of dawn and shovel manure until 9 am. After that, we milk the water cow that his family owns. Adrian in fact is a sweat shop owner and has been making me (against my will, ) force poor malays to sow cheap wallets so that he can support madeline's expensive shopping habits in civilized countries, such as that of Hong Kong.

I'm just kidding. It actually has been really really awesome here. They've been really good hosts and have been driving me in Adrian's yellow truck ( I feel like a prized possession being hidden in the back of his yellow truck! pictures to come soon) and taking me to eat really amazing food. I love this place.

He also took me sight seeing in Changi Village where many dressed up women come and hang out on corners waiting to be picked up. Yes, prostitutes but unfortunately, these women posess biologically, something more than that of a regular woman. Lets just say that they have a third leg.
brr...

Other than that disturbing thought, Singapore is pretty cool. More later!

The Make Shift Toilet Seat protector:

For some reason, my freudian obsession with writing about bowel movements seem to be the most poignant in my mind and that I need to write about them. So today after church, we ended up going to a Shanghainese place because I refused to go to dim sum again after two hours of just having prior to church. For some reason, my stomach had to start complaining that it had a package to mail to the porcelain God. This time, I had a package of tissue that my mom had given me this morning so that I could wipe my mouth (yes, there are no napkins on the tables at restaurants here). So i had no need to embarass myself by announcing to the world that I had an uncomfortable feeling in my rectum. To my relief(no pun intended), there was a readily supply of toilet paper and a toilet seat that was already down. REgardless of how clean it did look, my rule of thumb is to never have any part of exposed flesh touch public toilets especially in HK. This time, instead of squatting for fear of eternally locked in the squat position or the fear of falling into the toilet bowl, I took about 3 strips of 3 squares of toilet paper and formed a protective seat cover on top of the toilet seat. For these sorts of conditions, I reapplied the squares forming a double layer. After that, to prevent the splash, I threw in a couple of more squares into the bowl as to absorb the impact. Back splash can be dangerous to one's health.

Needless to say, I walked by to the table with full confidence that my legs were no longer sore but realized that I had been gone for more than 5 minutes. They probably figured out that it wasn't a number 1 that I had to attend to. Avoiding people's glances, I remarked how good the lightly browned dumplings looked.

Squatty Potty:

Before I begin my bathroom experience (which for some reason are always comical) in Hong Kong, I want to first say that as humorous as these experiences appear , in retrospect, the experience I relive is not for your entertainment but rather, to warn you of the dangers of being unfit.

This happened on Christmas day when we went to a Chiu Chow restaurant (for those of you unfamiliar with your chinese heritage, Chiu Chow is a place in Guang dong whose dialect sounds like Vietnamese and sounds like a butchered version of Cantonese (which is already a butchered version of chinesE). No offense to Vietnamese people.) I won't begin with how horrible the dining experience was which left me hungry and will jump straight to the point of this story. Towards what I thought was halfway through the meal (but in reality, there was only one dish left to be served but it hadn't arrived), my lower intestine decides that its too full and wants to explode. After unconspicuously asking for a pack of tissue because I wasn't sure if the bathroom had toilet paper (note: In HK, toilet paper is never popular. One must often carry toilet paper in the form of 'Tempo' brand tissue packs that is readily available at ubiquitous newspaper stands and seven-elevens) So after announcing to my relatives that I needed tissue, and not just one I might add but the whole pack, I basically announced to the entire table that I had to take a big crap. But at this point, I didn't really care. Neither did my relatives or so it seemed.

So I ran to the bathroom and to my relief, a roll of readily dispensible toilet paper was there. So I proceeded to do my thing. Let me just make another note. In HK, you NEVER ever touch the toilet bowl with any part of your body unless you dare to catch some airborne virus or veneral disease that lives off the toilets. Lets just say, Hong Kong people don't necessarily give the highest priority to making the bathroom experience an euphoric one. (unless you go to highclass bathrooms where they have a guy spraying down the urinal after you take a piss in it requiring you to tip them otherwise, they'll probably shove your face in the urinal just to clean it). Anyway, so the rule is to perform the Squat where one strategically aims your anus at the toilet bowl. Of course, because of my stomach ache, what comes out isn't so solid and anyway, I just make a mess (thank God its still in the toilet bowl). I will spare you the details (no need to thank me) but basically, its really difficult to squat and expel all at once because you're tense and one needs to be relaxed. anyway, this whole thing took way longer than I thought because I was fighting both the pain in my stomach and my thighs.

When it was finally over, and I cleaned myself up I walked back to the dinner table wishing I had done more squat exerciese before I came back to Hong Kong. Who says working out your legs iin the gym sn't useful?

My legs were sore when we left the restaurant.

Another year come and go. Lessons learned, lessons forgotten; friendships strengthened, friendships lost; people come, people go; more hair on my face, less hair on my head. It's hard to summarize a year's worth of experiences but nevertheless, it is neat to see the boundless blessings in my life and in a strange way, excited to venture into the unknown.

A part of me feels like I'm reaching quarterlife crisis; another part feels like I'm gonna be growing up a lot faster than I'd like but in the end, it's not really what I want to do that matters but what I know what God wants me to do that matters. Questions that often permeate our minds but often overshadowed by life and the process of the struggle, now resurface still without answers. Then I wonder, am I asking the right questions or am I just looking in the wrong direction? It is easy to attribute our success to God but even harder to accept that He will take our success to places that we never imagine. I'm still confused about this whole figuring out God's plan for me thing or whether or not completely switching fields is a great idea. We often wonder if we could see the future, then life would be so much easier but I don't think it would be any easier because we'd be left without choice. It would probably just as difficult to make decisions based on your future because by knowing your future, any decision you would make would ultimately end up in what you foresaw. Would that be all that fun? Perhaps, or perhaps not. I think as mere mortals with a finite capacity for understanding, when we want to say, "I wish I knew what was ahead", we are in fact saying "I want the ideal situation for me." By ideal, I mean, the self-measure of satisfaction, what we would perceive to be the place of contentment. Often, any situation we end up in is 'ideal' in the sense that ultimately, in the grander scheme of things (usually determined in retrospect) it shapes us into the way we are. But because as humans, our pertanicious attitudes towards the fact that we are masters of our own fate, causes us to fret and stress when we don't know what lies ahead.

To find one's purpose in life ultimately is determined by our choice. Is it still choice if we only have one option? Or is it no longer an option but a force of direction? Yet, it is by these choices that make our life experience interesting. Ultimately, it is the purpose in our lives that should cause us to think about the choices we do make.

Merry Christmas to you all
Thanks for reading and I hope to have more interesting stories to tell in the 852 but in the mean time, have a great holiday and stay tuned!!!

(i only have internet access when my dad is home cuz for some reason, only his computer can go online)

CHEERS

The 852 Area code. I've forgotten what I haven't missed about Hong Kong. The pollution that just burns your eyes . The possibility of getting some veneral disease if getting toilet splash in a public bathroom. The likelihood of getting SARS when hanging out in Causeway Bay even at 11:00pm at night. The lack of good looking chinese people.
But what is cool about HK is the availibility of cheap food. (That and I live w/ my parents). The availibility of technological gadgets and the advancement of consumerist technology.

I realized how cranky I can get if I am worked and surrounded by overtly excited and non-musical people who are ready to sing in front of a crowd at one of the most touristy places in HK @ the Peak. I think I need to pray for tons of grace and to pray against the urge to wear a mask over my head as I play tomorrow. I think this time back home is pretty good as I continue to think about the purpose of my life and to kinda venture off into the unknown.

BTW, down w/ copyright taxes on MP3 Products and CDR products. But hey, does that mean I can make unlimited copies on CD's and stuff now?

may I add that architecture plays an important role in the mediation between the listener and the music sung by a group. It is the architecture that acts as the mediation for the experience of the power and beauty. If you sung in a cardboard box would it be the same as singing in a cathedral with vaulted ceilings. Let us not forget that it is the architecture in fact, for which choral music is written for, an unwritten part that cannot be placed on paper; rather, its part is heard when performed in its space, taking the listener to another level.

(this is written as a response to a quote on calvin's blog)

24.
24 hours in a day
24 years of nothing really accomplished
just another day. just another year gone by marking my exiting of the warm fetal fortress that I could have probably stayed in had I known that I'd have to face life year after year. Then again, it might have taken all the fun out of it. I don't know if swimming in embryonic fluid for the rest of my life would have made a difference. OR then again, I wouldn't have been able to enjoy the sweet sounds and sights of the sun setting or the ocean waves crashing against the cliffs. To have only loved the sanctum of the placental walls and never know pain? Maybe it wouldn't be that great. Life is always paradoxical. We try and we fail and even though we're afraid to fail again, we still try. We love , and we hurt, and we still try again. We hate, and yet somehow, we still learn to love.
24 months in the span of two years. The time it takes for one to attain a master's. In my case, 18 months.
24 years. I don't really know what I have to show for. Trying to live. Trying to listen for the higher calling.
24.

Due to Wilbur's remark on Katsumoto vs. Gandalf, even without a sword, Katsumoto would destroy Gandalf hands down. The samurai are also trained in unarmed combat. Of course, if you would have recalled that there was a big wrestling match scene (Well it was more demonstrating the art of aikido) where the big brute guy takes on 5 guys at once. I'm sure Katsumoto could take them all on.

On another note, I should post my Christmas wishlist here (as well as graduation gifts... please don't hesitate to mail me anything that might be worthy of a gift.) my address is: 5245 Cote St. Luc, Apt. 28, Montreal, QC , H3W 2H5 (I will be back to pick up my gifts as well as attend my convocation which is on June 1,2004 at 2pm) as well as attending my fun loving, heart cutting, loud-mouthed roomate, Calvin's wedding.

Christmas wishlist:
-20 GB I-Pod (But a 10 GB will do)
- G4 Powerbook 1Ghz 15"
- A six-pack on my belly (well, i mean, ice-cold heineken will do too)
- Mackie HR824 or 624's
- a job
- higher purpose
- a special girl? ... well, this one can wait
hahaha

I saw the Last Samurai and i must say it is a phenomenal movie. WHOA BABY! I want a Katana for christmas.

anyway, upon talking about the movie with my buddy Justis, I gave him the lowdown on the analogy between LOTR (Lord of the Rings) characters and this movie's character and this is what I came up with.

Katsumoto vs. GAndalf
if Gandalf had no magic
KAtsumoto hands down

Tom Cruise vs. Aargorn?
hmm... Tom Cruise is better with two swords... and the no mind philosophy seems to work better altho manliness goes to Aragorn who seems to be more at peace with himself.

LEgolas vs. the Son of Katsumoto
hmm... i'd say legolas...he's an elf so he's faster and can see further...style wise, id' give them both the draw

Frodo vs. Emperor Meiji.
Frodo. The Emperor is too girly. Unless he yells curses at Frodo in Japanese. Then I Think the emperor might win.

One ring to rule them all.. the seven lamps that is...

Can anyone give me a job? I am officially done school . NO MORE NIGHT MARES ABOUT THESIS!