When it rains, it doesnt trickle, it pours.
As i came walking home from college, i received an unexpected call from my neighbour. He told me he was with my mother and that she wanted to go home. I knew she was trying to go back up north. Hurrying home, i thanked the neighbour for keeping her company and not let her just go off like that.
She had her bags all packed up and was ready to leave. She had gone to the back for some strange reason, even though she had no account in that particular bank. My guess is that she wanted to aske why the bank had repossesed her house. I brought her into the house along with all her bags. I had to energy to be angry or to be upset. I just told her to give me her keys. She refused initially, but i just kept repeating myself until she gave them to me. I told her frankly but calmy that i will not let her go because its not the right thing for her to do. SHe insisted that she had to go back because of her convictions. I told her "If you are able to convince me that you should indeed go, i will give you your keys and you will be free to go. She said she had to go back to take her books, that she wanted to do charity work throught the red crescent and stuff. But it was all just a cover for something deeper. I had no heart to argue with her. I just said i will be keeping her key until she convinced me otherwise
That night, after i came home from giving tuition, she was in a bad mood. She was badgering/scolding/pleading for me to return her key. I had been careful to lock the front grill door. SHe said my brother insisted that i be given enough freedom. She said she needed the key in case there was a fire. I said "If Jynn really asked me to return you your keys, i would. But my judgment tells me i shouldnt. Tell me, what is the first thing you would do once i return you your keys?" She kept quite. When i served her her medication, she started to get angry. She said i was giving her an overdose. She broke the tablets into half and only took half. At that, i took the tablest and put it into her mouth myself and offered her her water. I gave her no choice and she drank down the water. She tried tricking me by dropping the tablet on the floor, pretending to have already swallowed it. But i caught it. After drinking it she said to me "I really hate you. "
Now, no matter how many times you hear it, no one ever gets used to being told those words, especially by your own mother. As i walked out of the room, those words were playing on my hear. She hates me. Though defiantly i replied to her that i didnt care, deep down, i did. I knew she didnt like me forcing her to take her medication. I try comforting myself, telling myself it is the right thing to do. To give in and play along to her wishes will only is no always the right thing to do. S0metimes you have to be mean to do the right thing. But was it the right thing? Taking her key away effectively lockes her in into a prison, though i have made sure there is plenty of food and water for her at home. But did i go too far in taking her keys away? I feel strongly that it is for her own good. But my brothers argument from the last time lingers in my head. Is it right to lock her up like a prisoner? I feel tempted to just give her the keys and let her do whatever she wants, ridding myself of this responsibility. I had enough on my hands even without this problem. The temptation of just turning a blind eye and not wanting to care was almost too hard to resist. Afterall, she is my mother and an adult. Why shouldnt she be given the freedom to do what she wants.
Her appointment is this MOnday, but she had refused to go. She claims she has spent too much on seeing the doctor. She know she tried to take half her medication to make it last longer. i sense that this Monday would be a tricky situation. My father wants to come along, and my brother even offered to take a day off to accompany her there, but i feel that even getting her to come along may prove to be a challenge. The worse case scenario would be us having to physically force her to the clinic. But if it really had to come to that, she is better of in the hospital. I hope it doesnt come to that. The last time i had to physically carry my mother, it was last year when she was at her worst and i have to wish to see another repeat.
What a life. Problems dont seem to come one at a time like the rain, a drop at a time. To me, its more like someone pouring a pail of water on your head.
those days never seem to end
I feel like walking away and not care, but I hope someone ask me to stay.
I feel like hiding in a hole somewhere dark and lonely, secretly hoping someone is looking for me.
I feel like going out and having some fun, laughing and playing, doing exactly the opposite of what I am feeling inside.
I feel like reaching out to someone, instead I just wait for someone to come around and ask me how I am and truly want to listen.
I feel I am capable of handling what’s going on, but I feel the need to be comforted and be patted on the shoulder.
I feel like sharing what’s on my heart and what’s on my mind, but I can’t find the right words, or the right ear.
She said not to use to much of the shampoo, detergent or hand wash since my brother bought it and he might get upset if we use too much.
She opens her old Bible study book in the middle of the night, reads the same sentence over and over again, and not get anywhere.
She asks money from my friend. She gives my friend an English Grammar book and ask him to look for the Four Gospels.
She goes on and on about “That day… when this and that happened” when ‘that day’ is anything from 3 months ago to 3 years ago.
She switches off the fridge, trying to save electricity when there is food in the fridge.
She talks in half truths and hides facts when talking. When confronted she just says we don’t know because there are many things we are not aware of.
Today I was out the entire day. I came home to a house in darkness. The grill door was closed but unlocked. The second wooden door was left ajar. The house smelt of urine. I came in, closed the door, switched on the lights and called for my mother. She came out of bed, and very angrily I asked her “Are you trying to invite the robbers in?” Her answer “Yes.”
I knew she was saying this to show defiance in her own way.
I discovered she didn’t eat anything. When I asked her why, she said the stores here charged her more because she isn’t a student. I had to stand in front of her and make her before she was willing to eat the bread I gave her.
For the past week, every day is an endurance test, every day is a challenge. From reasoning and talking to her, I turned to shouting and scolding her, now I am reduced to just keeping quiet and saying as little as I can and doing whatever little I can. I have run out of energy trying to keep up with her.
I go to school and act like everything is normal, but at home things are far from normal. If anything, my mother is only getting worse by the day. I turn up the music as I type these words, in hopes that the sound will drown out the frustration I feel deep inside.
The days just go on and on
So its been almost a week now since my mothers relapse. Im not sure if them medication is working. I have been giving to her faithfully for the past few days, but for now there seems to be no obvious change. Her appointment is next week and i am hoping i can talk to the doctor to find out the reason for the relapse whether it was because she skipped her medication or because she was disturbed by something.
I must admit my mood these days havent been very good. As always, i am very irritable when my mother starts talking nonsense. The other day, when my friend was in my house, she tried asking some money from my friend, which got me really really angry. I gave her a angry look ans she said sorry and went away.
Im not sure how to handlings again. There is a conflict in my heart. On one hand, i just cants stand it when she is like that i sometimes scould her. For instance, last night when i was coming home, i was shocked to find her waiting for me outside the house, a few yards away, sitting on some old chair, in the dark. When i asked her what she was doing, she said she was waiting for me. I scolded her, telling her that she shouldnt do that, since it is dangerous and if i had taken another road, she would not have met me at all and she would have been waiting there for much longer. Im not sure if she understood what i was saying to her or was she just brushing it off, but she was more concerned about asking to to stop scolding her.
On the other hand, i feel guilty almost instantly after i am done. I know in my heart that i cant really blame her for what she does. I know that her judgement is not totally sound and therefore cannot hold it all against her. Yet, there are times when i feel her actions are deliberate.
The worse part if this whole thing is that she told me she sometimes have suicidal thoughts. Memories of her previous attempts at suicide came back immediately to me. I asked her if she was having suicidal thoughts now, she said no, but when she was on the old medication she did. She once told me that she thought of suicide before, but never dare to attempt it.
I told her that her life was not hers to take, and that life is worth living. SHe said her whole life has been miserable.
Im not sure how to comfort her about it. At least i know that staying with us, the tendency is lesser. But i can still see that shes not happy. When she wasnt with us, all she seemed to want was to stay with us. Now that she is staying with us, she tells me that she wants her freedom. She says that she wants to stay on her own and come visit her instead. She said staying here in KL has given her no freedom.
Forgive me if all this seems so disorganized and messy, but i am just spontaneously writing all this out. It is when i am in front of a computer screen, alone with my thoughts that i it all out. Sometimes i wonder if it is better for me to talk to someone face to face, instead of facing a cold heartless computer.
Just one of those days
Its one of those days again. There are only 3 words that can explain what it is.
Relapse, relapse, relapse.
It started a few days ago. My usually snoozing mother stayed up almost the entire night, doing i-don’t-know-what. I only found out because 4a.m. when I woke up to go to the loo, her lights were on and she was just sitting there.
The next morning, when I asked her what was the matter, she said it was the tea from the previous night that kept her awake. I naively believed it.
Following day, she started talking a lot, not that this was wrong. But she was starting to talk about her house up north. She was convinced that my father had something to do with the bank confiscating her house and sending a eviction notice. She also started saying a lot of negative things. She said that there was a stigma against her since she was psychiatric and because of that, people respected her less. She started complaining about my girlfriend not saying thank you when she bought dinner and how she did say thank you when my father paid. She also complained that my cousins never even bothered to call her when meeting her before talking to me. (In Chinese custom, calling the elders when meeting them is a sign of respect).
In the middle of class, I received a call from my brother. He was worried that she might make a run for it again. She had been doing a lot of complaining about the house, about how she needs to reclaim her house by going back. I told my brother my girlfriend would be on the way home and that she could make sure my mother was ok. But my brother, stumbling over his own words and trying poorly to disguise his awkwardness said to me “No, I want this issue to stay within our family.”
*a digression*
I was pissed at that. After 4 years of being together, my father and brother and mother still considered my girlfriend ‘not one of us’. To them, she was just my girlfriend, not someone within the our family circle and not having the same rights or privileges. Just a second class occupant of my house. They forget that her Aunt, to whom I am the outsider, is helping pay for my studies now and even paying me to tutor her nephew. If not for the kindness of her heart in helping me, I would not even be able to study anymore. I feel ashamed that my own family remain arrogant, insisting that she is someone ‘on the outside’ while on the other side, I am accepted by her mother, aunt and brother with such warmth and kindness. My father keeps on saying “My last wish is for you is to see you through your studies and get your degree.” Little does he realize that my girlfriends Aunt would take more credit for it than he can when the day comes. You talk about seeing me through my education, but you have provided me no means to it. You asked me to dream big dreams; “Apply to all the universities, don’t worry whether we can afford it.” you said. But I knew deep in my heart it was all empty talk. And now, you along with the rest of the family dare criticize and reject the person who gave me that means. How daring of you. How ignorant of you. How dark and cold the shadow you cast over this wonderful person. This person that has given me rays of hope, abundance of warm assurance and pillars of support. I could feel my blood boiling, but it wasn’t the time to argue.
So, worried that my mother would run away, I went straight home. Thankfully she was still home.
She has also been complaining about me to my brother and father. I got a call from both of them individually, both expressing their unhappiness over my conduct and that “Your mother has been telling me some things about you. We need to talk.” I must admit, that got me more angry that worried. I cant stand the 2 of them try to act benevolent. The two of them are equally guilty, if not more of being unkind and manipulative of her and now that they are hardly at home, they are the Saint Guardians of what is right. When they were at home, they were the CMO.. Chief Manipulative Officers. The attempt is so pathetic it only makes the hypocrisy of it all unbearable. I know what I have done, and I’m not proud. The only thing I can think of was how I had totally lost it and had slapped her 2 months ago (previous blog), and I am ready to own up to that if they wanted to confront me. They were worried that I would vent my anger at my mother for finding out she had been talking behind my back. I assured them I would not, but then I couldn’t help but feel more annoyed at her since.
Since then, she has started acting stranger and stranger again. She took off her pants and when I asked her to put them back on, she said she was wanting to mend it. The fact the she didn’t bother to cover up was to me a clear indication that things were not right. She stopped feeding the dog, saying that the dog was a nuisance. To my greated surprised, she had actually packed her bags, ready to go. When I confronted her, she said she was leaving in September. When I asked her why pack now, she said she was considering going on Tuesday. She sometimes walks spins when walking, saying she wants to ease the pressure on one of her legs.
I have since insisted on overseeing her medication again. She has strongly denied not taking her medication and I dare not press her about it, fearing she might loose her temper, or worse, if I loose my temper. But the symptoms have told me otherwise and I hope now that I am administering her medication, she will go back to normal within the week.
That day.. so many years ago (II)
As I sat there waiting, watching the day go by, I had totally forgotten about eating until a nurse came over and offered me a hot drink with some biscuits. By that time, my mother showed some signs of awareness. Her eyes were now open and she seemed to look around once in a while. I tried breaking some of the biscuits for her to eat, but she didn’t manage to eat any of it. Quietly, I just ate and drank, surprised that I could even eat. Its not a common sight and I think its never easy for people to see their loved ones in bed in hospital, no matter what the reason. The feeling of helplessness and frustration in not being able to do anything is enough to tear your emotions into pieces. I knew there was nothing much I could do left except to keep her company until it was time to go.
When to go? That was another issue. I think if nothing happened, I would have stayed there the night. But by 6pm, the nurse told me visiting hours were up and I had to leave. Reluctantly, I carried my bag, straightened my uniform and gently tugged at my mother. When she opened her eyes, I told her I was leaving and that I would come back tomorrow. I’m not sure if she got what I was saying since there was little reaction from her. Nonetheless, it was with a very heavy heart that I left the ward and headed to the lobby.
Again the stares from the people around me made me feel uncomfortable. I was in uniform, and anyone could have easily assumed that I was playing truant from school, but nothing could be further from the truth. Down at the lobby, I was faced with what I hope was the last obstacle I had to face for the day. How to go home? I was about 20kms away from home and my pockets were empty. Quickly going through my possible candidates, I decided to use my precious last coins to call my cousin which had a car. Now, I didn’t like calling on fathers relatives, especially on things concerning my mother since they had a falling out many years ago, but I was out of options. Half an hour later, I was on the way home, and of course I had to explain what had happened to my cousin from start to end. I had no doubt that this would go through the speedy and highly inaccurate family gossip channels.
Arriving home, there was one last surprise. My brother had been clueless as to what happened. Since it was my mothers birthday, he had gone straight to KFC and bought a feast for us to celebrate together. He had been waiting for nearly an hour, bewildered as to where we were. Again, I had to retell the entire story to my brother, but this time with more emotion and detail. It seemed such a cruel twist for my mother to be admitted into hospital on her birthday. The day she was given life was almost the day she lost it.
The next day, I went back to school and had a lot of explaining to do. Strangely, I never told anyone outside my family about it. I never told any of my friends or my teachers. I was contented to let them say I was playing truant or ‘ponteng’ in Malay. There was no one among those friends that I felt I could share it with honestly, and if I had tried, it would have been an half hearted and never do justice to what I was going through. I was afraid that if it came out wrong, what was to me such a heart piercing event would seem like nothing more than a hospitalization.
How did it end? 2 days later when my brother went to visit her again, he saw her walking out of the hospital on her own, ready to leave whether or not my brother came. She had taken out the i.v. drip herself, found her own clothes, put them back on and walked straight out the front door, without settling the bill.
Talk about making an entrance and exit.
That day... so many years ago
*Warning.. long and winding story*
Im writing this out now so that I will not forget what happened at the time. Its been so long, the trauma and shock have long gone. What’s left is a vague memory of how I felt at the time and what I did. Up until then, that was the worst sort of experience I had been through in my very short life. Little would I expect to go through an almost similar experience last year, though in more dramatic fashion.
This was 6 years ago. I was still in secondary school, 14 years old at the time. My brother, my mother and I decided to give staying together a try, so we all moved into a small flat near my school. Things weren’t smooth at the time. Being a teen, my brother pretty much kept to himself, and my mother was on and off her medication according to her own will. There was a lot of arguing among the 3 of us at that time. Because my mother wasn’t quite herself, my brother went out a lot, and my friends stopped coming to find me because they were a little afraid of my mother.
It was the 2nd of March 1999. I remember because that’s my mothers birthday. I was getting ready to go to school. For some reason, my mother was pestering me to go to the market to buy RM 1 worth of taugeh (bean sprouts)… Now, RM1 worth of bean sprouts is a lot… almost a third of a bucket. She had been complaining about not being able to sleep for the past few days. She said she wanted to fry the sprouts. On her insistence, I quickly went to buy, came home and changed into my school uniform.
Just as I was about to leave, I went to speak to her. I felt a little strange, because she was lying down on the bed and she said to me “Hann, I took some medicine and ill be sleeping for quite some time, maybe the entire day or two.” At that, I jumped a bit. I asked her what she took, and she said don’t worry, she just took her psychiatric tablets at a heavy dose to help her sleep. But the fact that I had to dig that information out of her made me worried. I went searching for the bottle and found it underneath the bed. I remembered there was quite a number of tablets remaining in it, but now it was empty. The little poisonous sign at the side of the bottle just added to my panic.
I wasn’t quite sure what to do, but I knew she needed medical attention, despite her insistence that she knew what she was doing. She tried convincing me that it was really ok, and that she would just sleep for a day or two. But that little skeleton sign on the bottle suggested otherwise to me. So I brought her to the nearest clinic, but they just asked me to send her to a hospital. By this time, my mothers eyes were already rolling upwards and she seem to be going into some kind of fit. I was really starting to get traumatized. They called a cab for me and sent me on my way. Lucky at the time, I had some money with me. In the cab, all I could do was old her hand and hope she was ok.
By the time we arrived at the hospital, my mother was totally unaware of her surroundings. There was saliva coming down her mouth, her body was stiff and we had to bring her in with a wheel chair with the help of a security guard. At that moment, I felt a great sense of urgency. My mother needed medical attention asap, but to my annoyance there seemed to be no one else that cared in that emergency ward. Just another case to them. I even had to register her first and pay RM 1 at the counter! The nerve of these people. I sat there beside my mother on the stretcher waiting for the doctor, holding her stiff hand, though I didn’t think she could feel it. There were all sorts of people around me; some looked like they’ve been in an accident, others looked like they were fighting and some just looked fine which made me wonder what they were doing here anyway. Did they have a mother who just swallowed 2 dozen tablets too? I doubted it.
When the doctor finally came, he just asked a few brief questions to me and told me to go out. As they drew the curtains, I could see through the gaps that they were going to insert some tube (or something) down her throat to suck out the tablets. I knew my mother resisted because I could hear her vomiting the tube out. I was then told to go to the lobby and wait.
So I waited, a thousand thoughts going through my mind. I missed school. I was in my uniform. I used up all my money for the cab money. How am I going to get back? Never mind that, what am I going to do now? Will she be ok? After about 30 mins of waiting, a nurse came to me and asked me to check her into one of the wards. They pushed her to me, still on a wheel chair and I took over, pushing her to the registration counter on the other side of the hospital. It felt like something out of a movie rather than real life. There I was, school uniform and school bag and all pushing my mother on a wheel chair. I was comforted that she at least could call my name even though her body was still stiff and she was now biting her own lips. I really wondered what people thought as they walked pass us.
It was a huge ward, with at least 40 over beds. A scary sight seeing so many sick people. I pushed her to the empty bed and with with the nurses help laid her on the bed. I was left alone again before a doctor came up to me 15 later to query me. I told her my mothers history, though I was unsure whether to say this was a suicide attempt. But the doctor did mention that all the windows and doors to the porch was sealed to prevent any jumping off the roof. She eventually told me that my mother had swallowed 29 tablets, and it was a good thing she was brought here quickly.
By the time I checked her in to the ward in was noon. I didn’t know quite what to do. I had no appetite to eat, and I didn’t have the energy to talk to anyone. My brother was in school, my father was at work and I only had a few coins in my pocket. So even if I wanted to eat, there wasn’t enough money. I sat beside my mother there the entire day, watching the day pass, looking for any sign of improvement from my mother. In between, the patient in a nearby bed almost died. The doctors and nurses drew the curtains and tried resuscitating him using the EMP machine. I could here the doctors instructions and the sound of the bed jerk everytime the doctor used the EMP. The mans family members just stood aside, praying (I think) that he would make it. Thankfully the man did come around. But that incident really ruffled my feathers. I knew I should call someone. I knew I should tell someone. But I couldn’t. I needed some time to absorb what was happening, and frankly I was unwilling to leave her side even for a moment. The doctors and nurses did ask me to go back, but something inside me just insisted on staying.
I remembered when I was young, my mother used to tell me that coma patients could still subconsciously hear when you speak. She said to me that if ever this happened to her, talk to her because she would be able to hear. So that what I did. I talked to her. I told her where we were, told her she’ll be ok, asked her why she did what she did. And as I did this, I was almost at tears, though I didn’t allow myself to cry. At times, I thought I saw a response in her eyebrows or through the squeeze of her hand, but I could not know for sure. So I just kept on talking. I told her to stop biting her lips, because it was starting to bleed. I only hoped that someone deep in her mind, she could know that I was there beside her and that she was not alone.
To be continued...
Blood is thicker than water
5 years ago, as i was sitting down with my father and a close friend of mine, my father commented to the both of us "I wonder how far your friendship will go. I have completely lost touch with the peopple i knew in my schooling years. I cant even remember some of them." At the time, i didnt think much of it. I felt that i had a very close friendship with this particular friend and that there should be no problems continuing to be so even after 20 years
Today, i havent seen of spoken to that friend for 3 years. What happened? Nothing, just drifted apart. In fact, i only keep in touch occasionally with a small handful of friends. The ironny is that i dont keep in touch with those who were close to me but instead with those who were not too close during those times.
When i was a kid, my mother used to tell me not to put too much importance on friends and concentrate more on family. I strongly disagreed, saying that friends were an important part of like either. Her reply was "Friends come and go, but family is for life. Blood is thicker than water. " I didnt think much of it and all these many years considered myself to have an equal balance between friends and family. But a comment from a friend challenged that. That close friend of mine (currently) said that i was a very family centred person.
That was unexpected especially from a close friend, but it made me wonder about it. Am i really more family centred? OF course, with a family like mine, you cant really just ignore it and pretend youre live everyone else can you?
Today, looking around me those friends from 5 years ago are living their own lives, and true enough my family remains. Looks like my mom was right. Judging from what i have been up to for this past year, i do have to say i am family centred. Most of my activites are planned around me semester schedule, around my girlfriend and my mothers appointments. Friends fit in after that, wherever there is empty slots. An indication would be recently when a friend of mine came to my house. He seemed a little out of place, and i asked him whats the matter. Why was he acting like he's never come here. ANd he said it was indeed his first time here. 3 years of being friends and the person comes to my house for the first time. In fact, i rarely bring people to my house, reserving invitation to friends closer to me.
So yes, i am family centred. My friends from yesteryear arent around anymore except a few. On one hand, i feel assured that whatever happens, at least my family is constant as an anchor in my life. On the other hand, i feel almost overwhelmed by the fact the whatever friendships i have now will become mere momory anyway. what the point of investing time, sweat and heart in something that most likely wont last? Its like a rock in the river. The flow of water like friends come and surround you and keep you company only to leave you and in his place, others come.
The 2 women in my life
Just a quick update.
3 days ago, my girlfriend was discharged from hospital after staying there for 4 days due to the denggue fever. I was really glad she was out since i was so worried for her the entire time she was in there. She's doing fine now, acting all crazy and silly like she always does, which is exactly what makes her so endearing (well, to me)
She's also taken up using some of my lines.. For instance, whenever she complained that she was fat, or that she has horrible cellulite, or that her thighs are from an elephant, she would turn to me for an indication of what i think. Now, the thing most guys should know is that, there is no right answer to this. Answer yes and she'll say you're just saying that to make her feel better. Answer no and you're just confirming her worst fears and she'd be upset for the rest of the day. So, if you're smart enough, you'll come out with some smart answer that doesnt really answer that question at all.
Do what i do. Just smile, give her a hug and tell her "I love you dear." That's it. Dont say anything more. If she digs deeper, just say "DEAR! I love you."... Repeat as long as you can. SHe cant get angry with you for loving her right? OF course, use this sparingly for maximum effectiveness. Other times, just get the hell out of there or change the topic! Hehehe.. Remember, Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned!
Anyway, now when i talk about my big tummy, SHE just goes and say "I love you dear." Well, a taste of my own medicine.
My mom is generally doing quite well too.. Though she's actually put on alot of weight. Since February till today, she's a whopping 20kgs heavier. That about 40pounds i think. She doesnt seem to be able to control her eating urges. But hey, better plump but happy then skinny and miserable. Im glad she has taken up my advice and has gone for walks in the evenings when the weather permits. Though she doesnt do much throughout the entire day, she does seem genuinely happy (at least from what i see). SHe does the laundry at home, feeds the dog and watches TV in the evenings. She does talk about wanting to work, but even she is doubtfull if she's up to it. Even as it is, she says that she has alot to do at home, though i dont really know what!
I have not overseen her medication for a long time, but i can see that she has been taking it faithfully on her own without much fuss. Something im glad about, thinking about what happened just a month ago. Also, the house up north that she was living in wa repossesed by the bank and put up for sale, since we have been defaulting on the mortgage. I told her that it is fortunate she is now staying with us, instead of being there when the house was repossesed.
Other than that, the 2 women in my life seem to be doing quite well. It really makes me jump for joy(on the inside) to know that they are close to me and that they are safe. In that sense, i do feel very lucky. Despite all the ups and downs around me, at least im glad that these 2 VIPs are safe and within sight. Money can be made and lost, things can be given and taken away, but you are given only one mother and only one soulmate to cheerish.
Whats for dinner?
Ok, im going to be racist for a moment here. Though normaly, racism is bad thing, im this case, i think everyone can make an exception. Read on and find out.
Firstly, my descrimination is against the Chinese (not the nation). And please remember, I am a Chinese ok. And very specifically, its against their eating habits.
No, its no table manners, its what they eat. The Chinese around the world will eat just about anything with meat! Shark fin soup seems so common, but little do we realise that we kill the shark, take the fin and throw the rest away! Have you heard of wild bears paw? Yes, we only eat the paw. And it seems in China, they harvest bears bile for consumption from living bears. Kind of like 'milking' them through a tube connected to their bile.
Of course theres fresh raw monkeys brain soaked in alchohol. Its so fresh, you eat in directly from the monkeys head. I kid you not.
We eat civet cats, turtles, snakes, tigers,frogs( which are called padi chicken by the way), lizards, bats and most of the animals you see and dont see in the zoo... the rarer, the better. Of course, i have heard rumours of people eating featouses! Yes, thats the reason there was SARS in china. They ate food they werent supposed to, and they didnt even bother to clean it first.
I find all these frenzied eating so alien i venture to ask me fellow chinese friends. Though many of them, like me, do not fancy eating 'exotic' foods, they did impart on me an interesting Chinese saying that explained this madness.
According to some chinese saying "Man is allowed to eat anything that has its back facing the sky."
Now think about it, what animal doesnt have its back facing the sky when walking? Almost none! Wait a minute, dont babies walk on all fours? You see what i mean? Hence the rumours.
Anyway, you just have to see how they kill the animals to stop eating these foods. I have seen a monkey, lizard and bat been skinned alive and its limbs being choped off without even the slightest sign of simpathy from the butcher. I swear i thought i saw tears from the eyes of the doomed monkey. My Muslim friends tell me the cow to be sacrificed for Aidiladha would normally shed a tear the day before it dies, and they are careful not to let the cow see the knife!
But to us barbarians, food is food. Its just not dead yet, and the later it dies, the fresher the meat. Of course to be fair, we must all remember the beef and chicken we eat didnt die of old age before we get to buy these meats. But i can only hope they were killed in more humane ways
So for once in my life, i finally understand why some people would choose to be vegetarians
My dad use to tell this joke:
3 friends, one American, one British and one Chinese once found a flock of very special birds in the wild. They each took one back to their homeland and met 3 months later.
The American said "We studied it's behaviour and eating habits and intelligence, and when it died, we studied its anatomy and found some very facscinating facts!"
The British said "We managed to teach it how to talk, like parrots and even got it so sing God save the Queen! A truely amazing bird, God rest its soul."
The Chinese said "It tasted great."
Get the point?
Yet another episode in my life
As I sat in the train waiting to arrive at my destination, i thought about all that has happened recently. Loosing my motorbike just a week ago and now this. Why do things always seem to happen in a row? Why is it that, just as thing were starting to slowly settle in, things get messed up again. When I talk to the people around me about my motorbike, they all say the same thing; “Just treat it as a RM2600 lesson learnt!” They tell me, just think of it as tuition fees for a new lesson you have just learnt, and a mistake you wont make again in the future and don’t think about the money. Well, I find that a little hard to accept, but it does have its merits.
I have learnt a few things from it. Firstly, just how careless I can be. I forget things a lot. Forget to bring my keys, forget to bring my wallet, or cell phone. Theres always something that I accidentally left out. My father said its something I inherited from him. He told me I better buck up because the same problem cost him his credibility and others trust in him. Well, I certainly took his advice to heart. I have tried to be more critical of myself in things like these. Looking at the bag of fruits laying on my lap, I felt almost happy that I didn’t forget this time. The fruits were for my girlfriend, and I couldn’t afford to forget it this time, of all times.
As I got into the taxi from the train station, fruits in one hand, bag in the other, headed for the hospital. Sitting in the taxi just reminded me yet again (bear with me here ok) of my absent motorbike. A thought occurred to me. Who would want to drink water after tasting wine? After more than half a year of having my own transportation, the cost and hassle of public transport needed time to be adjusted to. But that was precisely what I learnt; That we only truly know the value of things and people around us when we loose them, or they are at risk of being lost.
Heading to the hospital, I knew exactly just what the person at the end of my destination meant to me, and I’m glad I don’t have to loose her before realizing it. I had been worried all night, though there wasn’t much cause to be worried, after all, it wasn’t fatal if treated. That was what my head was telling me. But my heart still stirred, thinking of a classmate from my secondary school years who died from the same sickness. I walked through the hospital headed straight to room 16, mentally recounting all the things I needed to bring. Cloths, check, fruits, check, magazine, check, papers, check. Good. I opened the door, and I am greeted by an entire group of student nurses, all of whom are her classmates, and there in the center, sitting on the bed giving me a quiet smile was (at least to me) the most beautiful girl I have ever come to know and love. She had dengue fever. An illness once upon a time, fatal and even till today there is still no vaccine or cure against it. But early detection and hospitalization usually helps the body heal itself.
The word ‘careless’ literally translated from Mandarin is “Rough Heart”. Loosing my motorbike in such a careless manner has opened my mind to the things around me. I have lacked finesse in the thing that I do. I have lacked the attention to detail. How it is done doesn’t matter, as long as its done. In that sense, I have also been careless in taking care of things which are important to me. I have ‘roughly’ taken care of it only. I am determined to polish up my act. I don’t want my rough heart anymore.
Sitting beside my girlfriend, I remember just how many times she has scolded, nagged and pleaded me about my careless nature. Every time she did that, I felt like The Nutty Professor. Well intentioned, but plain careless and absent minded and disastrous nonetheless. Its one thing to be told not to touch the fire, and a totally different thing being burned by it. The lesson tends be engrained in once you’ve been burnt.
