What is life today? Another Tuesday, another late night before coming back from the office work. The rain continues coming down outside my office window. Thick cumulus white clouds were spotted by me earlier that afternoon, and now the wind must be pushing them down. The last person to leave the workplace before me gave me a shout far away to say goodnight, and I continue to clear off another relentless stream of business emails, follow-up requests and official whirlpool.
What is life meant to be? Is it in the faces of people streaming away from the game between the Dragons vs Broncos last weekend. They are dressed contentedly in their choice of team colours, and in Wollongong, it is mostly the red stripes of St George. It is more than national rugby league to these individuals, groups of mates and whole families. It is a lifestyle, something to look forward to on a dreary Wednesday morning. It promises the synergies of group power, safety in familiarity and something to motivate when other parts of life can be threatening or not promising. It offers moments of celebration even when everything is all right. It promises a life of more than just earning, spending and filling in the time in between. Maybe.
What can life be? Is it the chatter I overheard from bright-eyed overseas students in a cafe called Dong Dong? These UNSW students freely express themselves in the language and nuance they grew up with. They sang a quick birthday song for one of their mates, Justin. A lady wondered aloud why it was great to be a doctor or engineer long ago, but now it's cool and all right to pursue other careers. On a Sunday afternoon, this seemed to be a picture of relative innocence the week before the semester examinations. It is repeated all over the world in campus suburbs - the wonder of promise, the excitement of anything being possible and the comfort of being with friends.
What was life like? Beijing duck, Fujian poh pniah rolls, tamarind laksa, fruit rojak - all soul food served at a warm house gathering with the wind and rain howling outside. The sitting around a table to partake of food together is a necessarily comfortable ritual. To be able to do that with people you are truly comfortable with, and in not some imposed scenario, is not to be taken for granted. The home made pastries and tasty cake not made with butter but healthy ingredients were made with a labour of creativity and care, as the dishes for dinner on a Saturday night. And then to be able to sink into total mind-bending oblivion with audio-visual entertainment rounded up the night.
What will life be like? 2009, and it's the June 13 weekend. The United States has just switched off its analogue television broadcasts and fully gone digital instead. In Australia, we are at the nexus just before a similar change, but still with both analogue and high-definition telecasts available. Things we are used to - and enjoyed - can, and have, changed.
I like what I heard on Saturday night: "Life is like having ice-cream on a stick. Enjoy it before it all melts away."
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Sunday, 14 June 2009
Sunday, 7 June 2009
Mateship
I got thinking of mateship, after reading the related musings of a friend on her blog. Living away from networks I grew up with, residing in a special region of the country I adopted with differences and various nuances and being of a cultural background not seen as mainstream, I did and do face some challenges and opportunities. Whatever the scenario, I am here to stay and enjoy these unique perspectives.
After graduation, I worked in a close-knit environment of a family-owned bank. My colleagues and I saw the blurring of job and personal relationships after work. We congregated around individuals and random groups each of us found ourselves to be comfortable with. Extra-curricular activities were organised and encouraged around sports, food, outdoor and indoor activities.There was no need to have formally appointed mentors, employer-paid support groups and talk about what should be done in career and personal development - we just did it, relentlessly, subconsciously and with gusto. We got to know families of people who started out as working colleagues, but who gradually turned out to be friends in all senses of the word - mates whom we could call late at night to get an opinion, people with whom we could go camping and whose children came to know us as more than just from the office. The synergy we got from our outside encounters positively returned to the workplace to add to productivity, efficiency and better resolution of employee problems.
In another world now, I find myself with some people who vehemently compartmentalise whom they associate with. I can speculate on the various sociological and historical reasons why it is so, but in the end, the result can be impersonal, unmotivating and isolating. Social drivers that can so easily be utilised to embed team spirit, avoid unnecessary diversions and achieve business/career targets, with minimal roadblocks and pain, are ignored. Many I know end up not believing in the surface value of what some say or do and just give their minimum effort. At the worst, I have come across back stabbings, unfounded accusations, peculiar personal behaviour that reinforces petty selfishness and an uncanny negative focus on the now and not the future.
The happy medium that I thrive in is between these two contrasting experiences. In mateship, I believe in knowing how far to reach out and when to withdraw. The best friends are those I can drop by anytime with both good and not-so-good matters on hand, or just to sit side by side in silence. The best mates are those who accept us as what we are and yet provide quiet inspiration for us to want to better take care of ourselves. A true mate does not forget us once they move on to other stages of their lives. Reliable friends tell us as it is and keep in touch no matter what the phyiscal or psychological distance. To me, mateship is wanting to be connected, even if we do not have to.
After graduation, I worked in a close-knit environment of a family-owned bank. My colleagues and I saw the blurring of job and personal relationships after work. We congregated around individuals and random groups each of us found ourselves to be comfortable with. Extra-curricular activities were organised and encouraged around sports, food, outdoor and indoor activities.There was no need to have formally appointed mentors, employer-paid support groups and talk about what should be done in career and personal development - we just did it, relentlessly, subconsciously and with gusto. We got to know families of people who started out as working colleagues, but who gradually turned out to be friends in all senses of the word - mates whom we could call late at night to get an opinion, people with whom we could go camping and whose children came to know us as more than just from the office. The synergy we got from our outside encounters positively returned to the workplace to add to productivity, efficiency and better resolution of employee problems.
In another world now, I find myself with some people who vehemently compartmentalise whom they associate with. I can speculate on the various sociological and historical reasons why it is so, but in the end, the result can be impersonal, unmotivating and isolating. Social drivers that can so easily be utilised to embed team spirit, avoid unnecessary diversions and achieve business/career targets, with minimal roadblocks and pain, are ignored. Many I know end up not believing in the surface value of what some say or do and just give their minimum effort. At the worst, I have come across back stabbings, unfounded accusations, peculiar personal behaviour that reinforces petty selfishness and an uncanny negative focus on the now and not the future.
The happy medium that I thrive in is between these two contrasting experiences. In mateship, I believe in knowing how far to reach out and when to withdraw. The best friends are those I can drop by anytime with both good and not-so-good matters on hand, or just to sit side by side in silence. The best mates are those who accept us as what we are and yet provide quiet inspiration for us to want to better take care of ourselves. A true mate does not forget us once they move on to other stages of their lives. Reliable friends tell us as it is and keep in touch no matter what the phyiscal or psychological distance. To me, mateship is wanting to be connected, even if we do not have to.
Sunday, 31 May 2009
Tuesday, 26 May 2009
Some Days Are Diamonds
Shadows continually cast by some dissipate in the timely light beamed by unexpected special hearts of friendship; such is the wonder of the human experience, and the fortune to know such happiness.
Joseph and I were waiting for our claypot dishes on a pavement table outside a small
eatery in Eastwood in north-west of the greater Sydney area. At a neighbouring table, the teapot was sliding down on what was obviously an uneven bricked floor. The distinguished looking lady at that table was undecided on what to have for this Saturday lunchtime and was discussing the board menu with her nephew.
I could not help intrejecting to them that the menu they were planning for was only valid between 2 and 5pm. It was 1230pm. We next introduced ourselves; Paik Ling was the Principal of a well known girls school before she retired and with her nephew, Michael, they had come for an easy outdoor al fresco eat out on a sunny May day in a suburb not far from theirs. Both of them were interesting to chat with, and it was good to see an aunt being taken out for a meal. All four of us ahd to be patient before our dishes came - what I ordered had rice that was too hard but the other dish was tasty.
Whilst partaking my food, I saw through a glass partition of the eatery and realised that another lady was waving to me from inside. She then came out to greet me - lo and behold, it was Louisa, from way back when, at least 20 years ago when we last met. What wonderful hallmark moments I had - it was just by chance that Joseph and I picked the eatery for a meal.
On an autumn Mothers Day, Ee-lane and Ray had prepared a sumptious Thai home cooked dinner in Parramatta. The spicy and tasty spread provided much needed warmth inside once we had sampled through the several offerings. This ranged from minced pork salad to a fish marinated with the subtlelities of Thai flavours. We sat at a long table in a much loved house with a heritage front in a town that was founded not long after the first British settlement at the Rocks in Sydney.
One Saturday, after dropping by at a house for sale in the hills above Austinmer, I followed Shane and Danielle with their family to Thirroul Beach. Both the sky and ocean had hues of blue, different but complementary. There was a local surf carnival for under 18s going on on the clean powdery sand beach, but the Thirroul pool had been drained completely for the arrival of winter. The girls, Bridget and Nieve, took to the seagulls, ice blocks and outdoors naturally and eagerly. The bit of ocean wind did not affect the most amicable temperature. For a while, I was reminded that this is life as it should be spent, as for waht we work hard for.
I had not dropped by Marta's house for six months, short of the one attempt when she was away in Sydney that morning. So I thought I better visit her. I brought along a small serving of teatime cakes and Marta made tea and coffee to warm up our chat around her dining table. I could see her neighbour's washing alternately getting wet and dried by the chnaging weather and periodically passing showers. The expanse of Lake Illawarra could be viewed behind me, but we both enjoyed this catch-up conversation so much it did not bother us where we were. Marta and I had kept communicating by phone or email, but nothing is as good as talking in person.
On these recent cool mornings when my neighbourhood moves into winter mode,nothing makes it more easy to jump out of bed and get going, than the prospect of seeing Nathan and Scott at my routine coffee pick up on working days. More than the hot beverages they offer, it's the welcoming and bositerous manner in which they greet me, not so much as a customer, but as a friend. They wake up earlier than me, in the pre-dawn darkness, to make sure they are there when I arrive - and their absolutely inspiring attitude and demeanour makes me think - each of them deserves an opportunity to pursue and realise their personal dreams and passion for their exciting life-long adventure ahead, no matter what it is in their hearts right now.
My cousin Susan and her husband Boo Ann had made lovingly wrapped rice dumplings for the recent Dragon Boat Festival and gave me some. I sit at my dining table admiring the wraps, reminding me of their iconic cultural and philosophical significance. Some days are indeed diamonds!
Joseph and I were waiting for our claypot dishes on a pavement table outside a small
eatery in Eastwood in north-west of the greater Sydney area. At a neighbouring table, the teapot was sliding down on what was obviously an uneven bricked floor. The distinguished looking lady at that table was undecided on what to have for this Saturday lunchtime and was discussing the board menu with her nephew.
I could not help intrejecting to them that the menu they were planning for was only valid between 2 and 5pm. It was 1230pm. We next introduced ourselves; Paik Ling was the Principal of a well known girls school before she retired and with her nephew, Michael, they had come for an easy outdoor al fresco eat out on a sunny May day in a suburb not far from theirs. Both of them were interesting to chat with, and it was good to see an aunt being taken out for a meal. All four of us ahd to be patient before our dishes came - what I ordered had rice that was too hard but the other dish was tasty.
Whilst partaking my food, I saw through a glass partition of the eatery and realised that another lady was waving to me from inside. She then came out to greet me - lo and behold, it was Louisa, from way back when, at least 20 years ago when we last met. What wonderful hallmark moments I had - it was just by chance that Joseph and I picked the eatery for a meal.
On an autumn Mothers Day, Ee-lane and Ray had prepared a sumptious Thai home cooked dinner in Parramatta. The spicy and tasty spread provided much needed warmth inside once we had sampled through the several offerings. This ranged from minced pork salad to a fish marinated with the subtlelities of Thai flavours. We sat at a long table in a much loved house with a heritage front in a town that was founded not long after the first British settlement at the Rocks in Sydney.
One Saturday, after dropping by at a house for sale in the hills above Austinmer, I followed Shane and Danielle with their family to Thirroul Beach. Both the sky and ocean had hues of blue, different but complementary. There was a local surf carnival for under 18s going on on the clean powdery sand beach, but the Thirroul pool had been drained completely for the arrival of winter. The girls, Bridget and Nieve, took to the seagulls, ice blocks and outdoors naturally and eagerly. The bit of ocean wind did not affect the most amicable temperature. For a while, I was reminded that this is life as it should be spent, as for waht we work hard for.
I had not dropped by Marta's house for six months, short of the one attempt when she was away in Sydney that morning. So I thought I better visit her. I brought along a small serving of teatime cakes and Marta made tea and coffee to warm up our chat around her dining table. I could see her neighbour's washing alternately getting wet and dried by the chnaging weather and periodically passing showers. The expanse of Lake Illawarra could be viewed behind me, but we both enjoyed this catch-up conversation so much it did not bother us where we were. Marta and I had kept communicating by phone or email, but nothing is as good as talking in person.
On these recent cool mornings when my neighbourhood moves into winter mode,nothing makes it more easy to jump out of bed and get going, than the prospect of seeing Nathan and Scott at my routine coffee pick up on working days. More than the hot beverages they offer, it's the welcoming and bositerous manner in which they greet me, not so much as a customer, but as a friend. They wake up earlier than me, in the pre-dawn darkness, to make sure they are there when I arrive - and their absolutely inspiring attitude and demeanour makes me think - each of them deserves an opportunity to pursue and realise their personal dreams and passion for their exciting life-long adventure ahead, no matter what it is in their hearts right now.
My cousin Susan and her husband Boo Ann had made lovingly wrapped rice dumplings for the recent Dragon Boat Festival and gave me some. I sit at my dining table admiring the wraps, reminding me of their iconic cultural and philosophical significance. Some days are indeed diamonds!
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