SURVIVING OPHELIA

October 16^th was a very significant day for Ireland as the world watched hurricane Ophelia lash its fury on the island in an unprecedented manner. It was the most severe weather event to hit the country in over 50 years. Schools were closed and public transport services disrupted. More than 300,000 properties were without power and three people lost their lives.

A status red warning was in place and I stayed indoors as advised by Met Eireann (the Irish National Meteorological Service) and watched the storm spiraling on the cold horizon with the wind unleashing a torrent of its own. The trees were in a mad dance and leaves were flying like a pack of cards leaving behind a tangled mess.

I thought about the structure of the storm. I remembered there was an eerie silence before the storm set loose its full magnitude. I thought about the eye of the storm where there was calm and I thought about the intensity and duration of the storm.

From afar, behind the century old brick walls of my house I felt safe. I was inside looking out.

What if it was the other way round - outside looking in.

I thought about the times when there were raging storms within us and  others looking on  had no clue about the private storms of pain, disillusionment, disappointment and betrayal.

These storms can last last for days, months, years and generations even. Hurts that are not dealt with become fossilized over time. Think layer and layer of hurt piled up like sedimentary rocks that are formed by the deposition and subsequent cementation of material.

That is the eerie calm before the storm.

When we were warned about the scale of Ophelia I immediately took into the house, garden ornaments and smaller potted plants that  I thought would be smashed to smithereens if left outside. Hachi, my labrador stayed in the whole day too and he was most pleased.

I feared for my greenhouse. Friends told me that their greenhouses flew like flying saucers in the last storm, not half as forceful as Ophelia. I searched the internet for measures to minimise breakage and every website pointed me to the importance of the foundation of the house - how it was laid and how the house was anchored.

There are no methods set in stone to overcome the storms of our lives because we are all individuals and every storm is different. Just like protecting garden ornaments and smaller pots, we can brace for impact by doing what we can for ourselves and others. It helps to have a firm foundation - a bedrock of beliefs and values to remind ourselves that we matter and this too will pass. That is the eye of the storm. A place of solace and strength amidst it all.

There was great sunshine the day after, as if nature was compensating for the terror that it had inflicted on all and sundry the day before. I looked into my garden from my bedroom window.

The two towering trees were almost skeletal. The grass was littered with red and brown leaves which would make a neat pile for me to jump in. There was no necessity to deadhead the dahlias and mini roses because the winds had stripped the bushes bare.

I smiled when I saw that the greenhouse was still intact.

When I opened the door to embrace the new day, many neighbours had the same idea, united by the feeling that we were the survivors of the Apocalypse.

‘Hi John, Hi Pat, Hi Anthony’ I greeted them.

‘Hi Soo’, they replied in unison.

‘Terrible storm yesterday’, I said.

‘Tis ya’, they said and rolled their eyes.

Thank God it’s over.

THIS ARTICLE WAS ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED IN THE NEW STRAITS TIMES MALAYSIA ON 5 NOVEMBER 2017.  http://digital.nstp.com.my/nst/books/nstnews/2017/20171105nstnews/index.html#/19/

THE POWER OF LIMINALITY

I’m constantly surrounded by people who feel comfortable belonging to one trade or one hobby or one organisation. It certainly seems more advantageous to specialise in something  than to be a generalist.

I think I’m more of a generalist than a specialist. After exploring one skill or one hobby, I like to move on to learn other things, more so things that are entirely out of my comfort zone. That is why I’m very comfortable with Marianne Cantwell’s concept of liminality in her TED talk on The Hidden Power of Not (Always) Fitting In

Liminality is a state of in-between-ess.  

It is not being good at only one thing but being good at many things. You don’t fit into just one world or one group of people to the exclusion of others. You create your own space and bridge worlds by not limiting yourself to any one world.

Liminality is all about being comfortable in your own skin.

You are not restricted by what others think about you or what others expect of you. This gives you the freedom to be who you are and to be good at whatever you set your mind on doing. Most of all you have no fear of what people are saying to your face or behind your back. You have no fear of going to new places or trying out new things without needing to justify what you intend to do.

People say I am creative. Others have asked me what is it that I can’t do.

Believe it or not, I don’t realise it myself that I am creative or that I can do many things. I’ve always thought that anyone can be creative and can do many things given the right guidance or encouragement. I still believe so.

I attribute this artistic inclination to the spirit of liminality. It is a quest to pursue the unknown, to learn more, to think and to see things differently and to be part of this and that.

Recently, I chose to be in 3 new worlds.

World 1: Going for a retreat where everyone knows someone in the group and you are quite a stranger to all of them.

When I heard about a 3-day trip to An Grianan in County Louth organised by the Clare Irish Countrywomen’s Association, I was most curious. I had a look at the programme and decided that I should go. Just like that - no ifs, no buts. The duration and the timing of the trip suited me. Most of all I was keen on learning how to make fascinators and there was a full day dedicated to that.

I was not disappointed.  An Grianán, which means Sunny Place in Irish, is a beautiful Edwardian manor house situated on 88 acres of park with mature trees and a gentle path to the nearby sandy beach. I had a lovely en-suite room and hearty meals complete with freshly baked brown bread and yummy desserts.

Did I feel left out not being a member of the guild? Not at all because I was made to feel very welcome by the warm and friendly crowd. I went home very pleased with my new knowledge and my new friends.

World 2: One day I just woke up and told myself I must go and learn horse riding. I’ve always enjoyed going to fairs and watching show-jumping. So I called up the horse riding school and booked myself for beginner’s lessons. I was introduced to Junior, a fine stallion. I learnt how to saddle him, to hold the reins, to manoeuvre  and to trot.  I went home very pleased with my new knowledge and my new friend.

World 3: I have always been fascinated by batik art. So when I was back in Malaysia last month, I did a google search and discovered Sam Karuna Dyetik class which is a fine art batik technique that he pioneered. More than 12,000 students have benefited from Sam's skills and experience through his courses. 

Due to limited time, I could only spend half a day learning the fine art of batik painting under the tutelage of a patient master artist. It was a wonderful experience altogether and I went home happy with enough raw materials to start my foray into this new world.

So what is it about liminality that strikes a chord in me?

It is about hovering between worlds and enjoying them to the fullest.

No apologies.

THIS ARTICLE WAS ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED IN THE NEW STRAITS TIMES MALAYSIA ON 22 OCTOBER 2017. 

https://www.nst.com.my/opinion/columnists/2017/10/293564/power-liminality

HOMEWARD BOUND

My trip home to Malaysia last month has left me with many wonderful memories of who I am and why I’m proud to call myself a Malaysian. I dreaded the 13 hour flight but when the plane landed and the pilot said 'and to all Malaysians welcome home’,  my heart missed a beat.

What is Malaysia that I call home?

It is a land that boasts of many dialects and languages. 

What fascinates me most is our own ‘brand’ of spoken English that we fondly call Malaysian English. It never fails to make me smile when I listen to the concoction of different words in a sentence that might make no sense at all to a non-Malaysian.

Take for instance a father speaking to his toddler daughter . The father was carrying the little girl as they stepped on the escalator. We were standing a few steps below them when the little girl’s slipper fell off. A lady picked it up, rushed up the escalator and gave it to the father.

So the father told the little girl, “See-lah you. Just drop your slipper like that. Good thing, the nice aunty saw it and quickly- quickly gave it to me.”

The words ‘nice aunty’ really warmed my heart. In Malaysia, any older female who is not a blood relation is a sister or an aunt.  This is a mark of respect as we don’t call people who are older than us by their first name. I must admit that I enjoyed it thoroughly when even Uber drivers called me aunty.

It is a land of hospitality and generosity.

Our  short vacation was jammed packed with activities that revolved around family and friends. We went south to Johor, my home state and then to Melaka and Kuantan.  Friends separated by time and space bothered to get together to celebrate, just because we came home. 

Primary and secondary school friends treated us to sumptuous meals and gave us presents and local delicacies to bring back to Ireland.

A friend even brought us to her orchard and it was an Eden experience to be surrounded by dragon fruit, bananas, papayas, breadfruit, passion fruit and soursop. As mosquitos were swarming round, we made sure we had a good spray of mosquito repellent. The icing of the cake was when we saw weaver bird’s nests that were so intricately woven.

We also visited Tengku Mariam Primary school where I first started my formal studies. Fences and man-made structures had replaced the lush tropical foliage that once surrounded the school. We used to play hop-scotch or tag or run on the sides of the drain but I guess millennial children do not do that anymore. I remember having to recite the Rukunegara (National Principles) before 600 children during the school assembly and it was fun re-enacting the event at the exact spot beneath the flags to an empty field.

We also visited High School Batu Pahat where I did my Form 6. One of my classmates is a teacher there and we had tea in the canteen - the difference was we sat in the room where the teachers sat and not in the student area.

When we went to Melaka, we met up with my university course mates and visited the House of Museums which threw me back to the 60s and 70s when my mother used the wood stove for cooking and set her hair in curlers under the ‘big hat’. We were also treated to wonderful meals and watched others do the waltz, the swing and the rumba to  Michael Buble’s Sway.

It is a land that boasts of friendliness among complete strangers.

After Melaka we went to  Kuantan and I wanted to visit the batik centre.. I went to the tour desk to call for a taxi but another hotel guest who overheard my request offered to give me a lift since he was going there himself. After the visit, I waited for a bus but there was no bus in-sight for a long time. Again a lovely lady with very young children stopped her car and gave me a lift back to the hotel.

It is a land where you drift seamlessly into your younger self and just let your hair down with your best friend. Michael and I went for the swings, the see saw and the slide when no one was looking and chased crabs in the sand.  

So I look forward to coming back again to the land where I was born. Being home is an indescribable feeling even though it was only for 3 weeks. Somehow I even enjoyed the sun, something I never really liked before.

THIS ARTICLE WAS ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED IN THE NEW STRAITS TIMES MALAYSIA 8 OCT 2017 https://www.nst.com.my/opinion/columnists/2017/10/288630/homeward-bound

HAVE I CHANGED?

I was having lunch with a friend the other day and she asked me whether I have changed. Like myself, she is non-Irish but have settled in this land for quite a number of years.

Whether or not a person changes for the better or worse in a new environment depends on a number of factors like age, self esteem, the company she keeps,  and of course how she has been brought up.

I remember being in the presence of many Asian parents who were afraid that their children might ‘change’ when they went overseas for their studies. The parents were afraid that their children would fall prey to sexual permissiveness and abandon their cultural and ethnic values as well as religious beliefs.

When I go to town, I’m often approached by groups wishing to secure support for a certain cause like gay rights or abortion on demand. There are petitions to ban this and that. We have humans in shark suits protesting the killing of sharks and others in whale suits protesting the killing of whales. There was also an incident when a group of animal rights activists freed nine lobsters by walking into a Dublin restaurant and taking them from the fish tank before returning them to the ocean.

I stand by my principles.

A principle is a general and fundamental guideline that is used in deciding conduct and choice. 

Sometimes it is not easy to do that especially when others seem to think that the principles are archaic and irrelevant to present day society. What was acceptable before is now deemed unacceptable and what was important is now deemed trivial, if you catch my drift.

First and foremost is honouring our parents and those who are generally older than us. Honouring is being respectful in word and action and having an inward attitude of esteem for their position. The Greek word for honour means “to revere, prize, and value.” Honour is giving respect not only for merit but also for rank.

Dr Leonard Sax in his book ‘The Collapse of Parenting’ points out the reasons why the present day trend is for the younger set to be disrespectful. In an interview with the Associated Press, Dr Sax talked about a 10-year-old boy who was engrossed in playing a game on his mobile phone while he (the doctor) was discussing with his mom about his stomach ache. The boy said, ‘Shut up, mom, you don’t know what you’re talking about’ and laughed. The mother did nothing.

The boundaries between parent and child have become blurred. Sometimes you wonder who is the parent and who is the child because the parent strives to become a ‘friend’ and he believes that it is the child’s state of ‘happiness’ that matters most.

I see it all the time where young people are so ‘awesome’, they can do no wrong nor accept constructive criticism.

Sometime ago, I was teaching a group how to make a craft project. All the participants were very creative and came up with lovely pieces of work. There was a participant who took great pride in her work and put in a lot of effort. I looked at it and said it was good. She was mortified because she expected me to heap praises on her work and maybe set it as a benchmark for others to follow. So she defended herself loudly. ‘I think it is fabulous. Whatever you say, I think it is fantastic.’ What she didn’t realise was that I had seen excellent, good and mediocre pieces of work and hers was no where near excellence.

J.M. Barrie creator of Peter Pan wrote, “Life is a long lesson in humility.” How true.

Other principles that I hold dear are mindfulness, integrity, accountability and delivery. It is being considerate and being sensitive to others – their needs and perceptions – spoken or otherwise. It is being appreciative and true. It is being able to say ‘No’ if you are not comfortable with doing something even if the person asking you for the favour is someone you know quite well.

I’m a person of my word; I expect the same from others.

It is saying what you mean and meaning what you say. I am constantly surrounded by people who give you the run around because you can never be sure whether they mean what they say.

It is taking up a responsibility and being able to carry out the task. There are those who love to hold posts but conveniently forget that posts come with responsibilities.

So to my friend who asked me whether I have changed. 

I paused and then said, ‘ Physical measurements, yes. Principles, no.’

THIS ARTICLE WAS ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED IN THE NEW STRAITS TIMES MALAYSIA ON 24 SEPTEMBER 2017. https://www.nst.com.my/opinion/columnists/2017/09/283387/have-i-changed

THE CHARM OF RURAL LIVING

When the weather is fine – meaning it is not raining – the first thought is sieze the day and go for a spin in the countryside. Although the beloved and I have visited all 32 counties in Ireland, there are so many quaint villages and towns that are waiting to be explored.

We decided to go to Fethard in County Tipperary for no particular reason.

During Edward 1’s reign, fortified market towns were established. Fethard’s town walls rise to a height of 25 feet and Fethard has the most complete medieval circuit in Ireland.

 Historic sights include the Knockelly Castle and the Augustinian Friary.  In fact, Fethard began with the coming of the Anglo-Normans to Ireland eight centuries ago.

Small towns teach me a lot about country people.

I walked up to a local man who had a stick in his hand and there were some geese about him. He had actually brought the geese to a nearby river for a swim.

‘You need to be careful with geese you know’ he said.

‘Why, will they attack me?’ I asked.

‘Oh no, they are messy birds. There is so much to clean after them. But they lay good eggs.’ he explained.

‘I haven’t seen goose eggs before. What colour are they?’ I asked.

' They are white alright. Each is the size of four hen eggs’ he added.

The little conversation developed from geese to historic sights. He even offered detailed instructions on how to enter the castle if the gate was closed. He then drew my attention to an ancient pagan fertility effigy (Sheela-na-gig) carved on one of its walls. This creature would be easily overlooked if you were none the wiser.

I thought that he was very friendly and helpful. I could see the pride and the sense of belonging in his eyes.

We decided to check out the Augustinian friary. The mosaic work on the ground and the stained glass windows are exquisite, a reflection of talent and hard work. The old tombstones tower majestically and there is a sense of awesomeness in all their silence.

As we walked along the pavement of the Main Street we passed by three senior ladies who were busy chatting. They seemed to have known each other all their lives and were sharing common experiences.The moment they saw us they stopped their chatter and greeted us. We obviously did not blend in with the local colour. We had only passed them for about ten minutes when one lady walked up to us and asked whether we were looking for something to eat.

I was in fact eyeing a modern fancy restaurant across the road which had received good reviews on TripAdvisor. I asked her whether the food was any good there. I could sense that she wasn’t exactly enthusiastic about that restaurant and recommended another old time eatery. She said she preferred hearty meals to ‘rabbit’ food, referring to healthy salads and such.

I was mostly amused and not surprised that she recommended the old time eatery. It was all about familiarity with a certain lifestyle or a certain cuisine and certainly an underlying loyalty to old establishments.

True enough when we passed by the modern restaurant, I saw  a pretty younger crowd inside, feeding on ‘rabbit’ food  that came with big prices.

I have lived in the city for the most part of my life and enjoy the conveniences that go with it. City life is vibrant and on-the-go. There is no lack of  excitement as I am in the heart of noise and there is not a dull moment.

Small towns are peaceful and I feel very safe. There is no fear of snatch thefts or being mugged. Most of all, I do not need to hold on to my handbag tightly. There is this rural charm that is a breath of fresh air. I could sense the laid back idyllic atmosphere as if the earth is spinning more slowly in these  parts. We could never have enough of it and that is what drives us to go search out these hideouts ever so often.

So I’m checking the September calendar to plan our next trip to explore another small town again.



THIS ARTICLE WAS ORIGINALLY PRINTED IN THE NEW STRAITS TIMES MALAYSIA
2 SEPTEMBER 2017
http://digital.nstp.com.my/nst/books/nstnews/2017/20170903nstnews/index.html#/23/

AIMING FOR THE BEST, REACHING FOR THE HIGHEST

I am a staunch advocate of aiming for the best and reaching for the highest in every aspect of life, as according to one’s abilities.

When I was a student I set my mind on entering Malaysia’s top university then. I remember I was given three university choices in the application form. I put down the name of the same university for all the three choices.

So when it was my youngest daughter, Audrey’s turn to apply for a place in the university, I encouraged her to go for Trinity College Dublin because Trinity College Dublin offers excellent resources for her course and continues to be Ireland’s top university. It is the only university in Ireland in the top 150 universities in the world according to the Times Higher Rankings. It joins the universities of Oxford, Cambridge and Edinburgh among 25 other top listed universities drawn from 11 countries over the age of 400.

The question that comes to my mind is ‘Why do you limit your life’s ambition?’ Why do we sell ourselves short because of insecurities or fear? 

We think we need ‘connections’ to get ahead. 

I remember my daughter telling me that her friends knew ‘so and so’ to get them that job placement. Discouragement set in as we have no ‘connections’ since we are not Irish and I encouraged her to believe in her abilities and that there is still merit in hard work. There is also divine intervention for those who are faithful. It is our choice to soar like an eagle even when surrounded by chickens and naysayers.

Take for example attending a job interview.

It is not unusual for renowned companies to have as many as five stages of interviews or more before they select the applicants that they want.

During her final year at the university, Audrey applied for different top graduate programmes. 

A graduate programme is a stimulating one to two year programme with hugely empowering training structures. It also includes the support of dedicated mentors who are focussed on the new entrant - her development needs and career objectives. Upon completing the programme she is given the opportunity to be part of the company.

The advantage of a graduate programme is that an undergraduate enters into the job market seamlessly while others are still searching for jobs and sending in their resumes.

So she applied for different graduate programmes and although the interviews were similar some of them had different things. The majority of them had about 2000-3000 applicants each for 10 – 20 vacancies.

This is an example of what she went through.

Stage 1: Online application with CV attached and short questions on why she is the essential candidate for the job.

Stage 2: Online psychometric testing for numeric ability, verbal ability, personality and shape matching 

Stage 3: In-person competency-based interview with one current graduate and one Human Resource manager

Stage 4: Group assessment (with other competitors) to solve 3 challenges on the day itself.

·  Challenge 1: She was presented with a hypothetical case study of a business seeking to expand with limited funds. She had 20 mins to prepare a presentation to argue what she would do within the budget.

·  Challenge 2: She was presented with a hypothetical case study of running a new business project. She had to engage in a group discussion with others to decide on what should be done. There was no final presentation.

·  Challenge 3: She attended a competency-based interview with an organisational psychologist and company staff.

Stage 5: Interview with senior manager of chosen department.

All I can say is that I am glad I escaped that gruelling experience. 

I only attended one interview in my life after graduation and I became a lecturer at Universiti Teknologi MARA and I kept that vocation for 27 years because I enjoyed teaching and loved my students. I still do.

So, bring on September! That is when Audrey embarks on a new life with a prestigious company. She has made it to the top 10 out of 2000 applicants from Ireland, the UK and the EU.  

I attribute that to hard work and divine intervention.

. 
THIS ARTICLE WAS ORIGINALLY PRINTED IN THE NEW STRAITS TIMES MALAYSIA
 20 AUGUST 2017

https://www.nst.com.my/opinion/columnists/2017/08/270033/aiming-best-reaching-highest

ART IS IMAGINATIVE, SENSITIVE

I normally scan through the week’s television programmes to record movies and documentaries that I would watch (minus the advertisements) at a later date. One of the recent ones that caught my attention was Vermeer, Beyond Time aired over RTE (Raidió Teilifís Éireann) in conjunction with the exhibition of Johannes Vermeer’s works which runs from 17 June till 17 September at the National Art Gallery in Dublin.

Johannes Vermeer perhaps is most famous for his painting entitiled ‘The Girl with a Pearl Earring’ which is a tronie of a girl with a headscarf and a pearl earring. Today, together with the old masters, he is much treasured and well known but not surprisingly, relatively undiscovered during his time – the short lived Dutch Golden Age of the 17^th century.

So I purchased a ticket and walked through the halls trying to absorb the magnificence of the works of the masters that hung on the walls. Besides Vermeer’s paintings, there was also a great collection of works done by Gerrit Dou, Caspar Netscher, Frans van Mieris, Gerard ter Borch, Jan Steen and others.

Art is imaginative and sensitive at the same time – the way light and colour interplay to evoke different perspectives across similar themes. As I listened to the recorded description of each painting, I couldn’t help feeling that I was in the very room itself where the artist was trying to capture that smile, that side glance and that movement of the eye. It was like a privileged intrusion into the world and life of the master and observing the cultured women, the maids and the curious minds of learned men. It was peeking into domestic interior scenes of middle class life of another era.

It is difficult for me to choose a favourite. But I really like The Lacemaker. According to the art historian Lawrence Gowing,

"The achievement of Vermeer's maturity is complete. It is not open to extension: no universal style is discovered. We have never the sense of abundance that the characteristic jewels of his century gives us, the sense that the precious vein lies open, ready to be worked. There is only one 'Lacemaker': we cannot imagine another. It is a complete and single definition."

To me, the allure of art can best be enjoyed alone or with a like-minded companion. It is a form of meditation, evoking feelings and responses hidden in the recesses of your soul. You can leave the snarky and angry world outside and imbibe the enriching quiet education. It’s totally different from viewing art over the internet which I liken to looking at a rainbow through the windowpane instead of being outdoors and enjoying its full essence.

I know what it is like not to be recognised for what you are worth. It is often said that a prophet is not accepted in his own town - Vincent Van Gogh, Paul Gauguin  and Georges-Pierre Seurat are victims amongst others.

Coming from the Delft, Vermeer too had moderate publicity and sank into obscurity after his death. His works were largely overlooked by art historians for two centuries after his death. He was rediscovered in the 19th century by Gustav Friedrich Waagen and Théophile Thoré-Bürger, who attributed 66 pictures to him in an essay, although only 34 paintings are considered his today.

I know what it is like to live in limited means. Vermeer evidently was not wealthy as he left his wife and children in debt at his death at 43. He used expensive pigments and produced relatively few paintings because he was meticulous in his work and sometimes even taking time to paint over his original images when he felt that less is more.

I know what it is like for your works to be ‘claimed’ by others. Some unscrupulous dealers apparently painted over Vermeer’s signatures on his paintings. They then forged the signatures of more renowned artists on his art in the hope of getting higher prices.

This was my second visit to the National Art Gallery in Dublin and I thought that the whole exhibition was very well done. As I was leaving the hall, a friendly staff approached me and asked me what I thought about the exhibition.

I told him how I felt and asked if he had seen it himself. He said he had been working there for the past 30 years and knew every nook and cranny of the gallery. We exchanged pleasantries and before I took leave, he asked, ‘Are you single or married?’

‘Married’, I said with a smile.

THIS ARTICLE WAS ORIGINALLY PRINTED IN THE NEW STRAITS TIMES MALAYSIA 
6 AUGUST 2017....https://www.nst.com.my/opinion/columnists/2017/08/264596/art-imaginative-sensitive