The things we do that only others see

THE 1999 novel Chocolat by Joanne Harris tells of a woman who moves in with the wind to a little French town. She is a sojourner and is quite unlike any of the people in that village, with her unconventional ideas and her disregard for meaningless traditions. Despite her fair share of prejudice and pain, she ultimately brings hope to a group of people who sees change and possibilities and a different world apart from their own.

The sojourner can be anyone. He is the teacher in a godforsaken place. Totally dedicated to his vocation but unappreciated. He is the doctor in a far-flung part of the earth. Totally dedicated to his calling but feeling trapped. He is the creative worker in a multinational company. Totally dedicated to his career but feeling empty and lonely.

Sometimes, I feel like a sojourner. It is as if I am in a particular place for a particular reason. Like the protagonists of the novel, Vianne Rocher, and her daughter Anouk, the road is never easy, the path is embedded with stones that need to be taken out painstakingly, one by one, so that it is smooth again.

In the course of it, weariness bears down, oh so strongly.

I have been here for a few years now. People ask me: "What do you think of Ireland? What do you think of the Irish? Do you miss your children back home in Malaysia?"

What can I say... should I just mouth the trite answers that are expected of me? Do I tell them what they want to hear or do I tell them the good and the bad, the joy and the pain, the fun and the sadness, the alienation and the friendliness, the rejection and the acceptance, the closeness of minds of a people who know no better?

There was this nice and elderly English gentleman whom I used to meet on the street where I live. He probably did not have many friends. But what struck me was that he never failed to talk to me whenever he saw me. He thought I was on a long vacation as I stayed on after the summer holidays and he continued to see me again in autumn and winter. He used to carry a bag slung across his shoulder. One day, I saw him walking without his bag. I stopped and asked, "Where is your bag?"

He was taken aback and said that he had left the bag behind. He must have gone home and thought to himself, why, this lady noticed that I carried a bag every time I went out for a walk. The next day, he saw me again from afar and waved merrily at me, holding his bag high up in the air, to show me that he was carrying the bag. After that, our friendship grew -- albeit circling around his health, his bag, my health and my bag. Finally I asked him whether he would like to come into my house for a cup of tea.

I wished he had accepted my invitation that day to come in for a cup of tea to escape the stormy weather. I wish I could have talked to him more. But I couldn't because John passed away and it broke my heart that I did not even know about it and I wondered if there was anyone at all at his funeral.

As I sojourn, I find myself in several very varied circles of good friends, maybe because I listen more than I speak, I reflect more than react and I empathise more than gossip and judge. A number of my friends have mentioned that they are glad I have come into their lives. I feel humbled by such an honour because of my own imperfections.

I am reminded of the story of the monk carrying two buckets of water from the well to the monastery every day. One bucket is perfect and the other has holes. The bucket with holes asks the monk why he continues to use it. The monk asks the bucket to look at the side of the road where the perfect bucket passes over and it is barren. He then points to the flowers growing on the other side of the road and says "See, these flowers are here only because of the water you sprinkle on them". 

As we sojourn, may our imperfections be the channels that allow our gifts and talents to flow to where they mean something to someone else.

Source: The things we do that only others see - Columnist - New Straits Times http://www.nst.com.my/opinion/columnist/the-things-we-do-that-only-others-see-1.490817#ixzz2uLvyqa00

Drivers of Success

I met up with some Asian friends whom I had not seen in 30 years and congratulated each other on how like fine wine we have aged, and jokingly, talked about the gold bullion that we have locked in a safe deposit box somewhere -  the latter I take to denote success or how far we have come in life through dogged determination and sheer hard work.

So, what is it with Asians and a spirit of excellence?

According to a New York Times 2012 report, Asian-Americans constitute 5.6 percent of the nation’s population but 12 to 18 percent of the student body at Ivy League schools.  The percentages are astounding: 24% at Stanford, 18% at Harvard, and 25% at both Columbia and Cornell. More Asian Americans over the age of 25 have bachelor's degrees and advanced degrees than any other race or ethnic group. Besides outperforming their colleagues in school, Asian Americans also bring home higher incomes than their non-Asian counterparts - almost $10,000 more annually than the rest of the population (2002 statistics).

My take is that it is not that we are born Asian that we reach for excellence, but rather how we are raised.

 There have been so many reports and books written about the Asian concept of  hard work and success and when I chance upon yet another, I never fail to give it a good read. I guess it is partly to double check whether I have been doing the right thing especially when others do not practise the same parenting techniques that I do.

In Top of the Class: How Asian Parents Raise High Achievers - and How You Can Too, the daughters of Korean immigrants  Dr. Soo Kim Abboud and Jane Kim discuss 17 ways parents can raise children to love learning and maximize their intellectual potential. Abboud is a clinical assistant professor at the University of Pennsylvania, and Jane Kim is a lawyer who specializes in immigration issues

I tend to agree with the overall slant of the book.

One of my friends told me that I have always been an achiever. I find great contentment in achieving and living to one’s full potential. In agriculture terms, when I put my hand on the plough there are no half measures, no laid back attitude -  whether it is being a lecturer in the classroom or in planting potatoes in my back yard. To me, we are given a spirit of excellence and to settle for anything less is to sell yourself short.

The spirit of excellence sets the child apart from his peers. I can identify greatly with Dr. Soo Kim Abboud’s concept of clearly defining your child’s role as a student and then steering her towards her potential.

Asian children are brought up with three clear cut rules:

·                                 Respect your elders (teachers, people who are older and people in authority) and obey your 

                  parents.

·                                 Study hard and do well in school to secure a bright future.

·                                 Mediocrity does not garner praise. Hard work and praiseworthy performance do.

The final ring of the school bell does not mean freedom from learning and education. Studying still takes place at home – homework, assignments and sometimes even doing additional workbooks given by the parents themselves. Besides doing household chores, studying  is a normal way of life away from the multitude of distractions that others face once school ends.

I respect educators, and this respect is passed on to my children as I view the educators as collaborators - not adversaries. I strongly believe that if children do not respect their educators, then they will find it difficult to embrace their roles as students or subordinates,  not only in the classroom but in the home and society as well. It is sad that while Teacher’s Day is celebrated in Malaysia and in other parts of the world, Irish teachers in the town where I live do not enjoy the same celebration. If I am not mistaken, my daughter was the only one who made appreciation cards for the teachers during Teacher’s Day this year..

I do not know how it has evolved such that children are rewarded for mediocre school performances, for fear that any challenge or correction will permanently damage their children's self-esteem. 

To me, I believe in both effort and result, commiserating with the child’s ability.

Anything less is underachieving, indiscipline and looking for short cuts in life.

Source: New Straits Times 25 August 2013

Success is not measured by money alone

I HAVE just come back from a talk at Mallow Street Hall in Limerick where the speaker, Brian Gault, from the Isle of Man shared about his life. What struck me was his attitude towards life and its challenges despite the fact that he was born with no hands, yes, no hands, being the victim of the Thalidomide disaster. Thalidomide is a sedative drug introduced in the late 1950s that was used to treat morning sickness and to aid sleep. It was sold from 1957 until 1961, when it was withdrawn after being found to be a teratogen, a substance that causes birth defects. Brian did not just remain a victim of a mistake. At a young age, he learnt how to use his legs and toes for most of the tasks that we carry out with our hands. He had to suffer the looks and unkind taunts of other children. But he developed into a remarkable young man, full of personality. The best part was together with his wife, May, Brian went on to carry out charitable work among other Thalidomide victims in Brazil, a life of service to others. To me, a life of service to others is my definition of success. Success is doing the things that I perceive are valuable to myself and beneficial to others. It is a strange phenomenon where the more you give, the more you receive. However, to many others, success equals the first million dollars made. That reminds me of a conversation I had with well-meaning friends who were discussing their children's success stories.

As a number of our children are doctors, inevitably we talked about what makes a successful doctor. I could sum up the conversation as: a successful doctor is one who makes a lot of money, one who leaves the home country to work in another country because of a lucrative salary and one who chooses to specialise in an area, for example plastic surgery, that would surely bring in loads of money. I wonder how many parents actually encourage their children to give back to society and use their professions to do charitable deeds. I remember when my eldest daughter asked me for advice concerning her posting to a hospital to do her housemanship. I advised her to go to a place where doctors were scarce and medical facilities were lacking. In short, I was telling her to go where there was a need instead of city hospitals that were overcrowded with intern doctors. To other parents, I sounded weird and uncaring. When she was actually posted to a far-flung corner of the country, concerned parents came to sympathise with me. The best part was she was actually happy. Epicurus, the Greek philosopher said: "It is not what we have but what we enjoy that constitutes our abundance". Success is experiencing intangibles, such as the ability to make a difference, to feel a sense of accomplishment and to maintain a desirable balance between the world out there and the world within. This to me eclipses the size of a pay cheque. If we do not define our own meaning of success then we are caught in the socially programmed default settings of success, which usually means money. When Brian ended the talk by autographing his book with his toes and proclaiming that he is wonderfully made, despite the birth defect, I felt something move within me. In two days' time, we will embrace a new year. This is a good time for looking back to the past and also forward to the coming year. As with every new year, we make resolutions and break them or faithfully try to keep them. It is a good time to reflect on the changes we want or need to make. I will have to sit down and think through what I would want to do in 2013 -- for myself, my family and all those that I come in contact with.

Read more: Success not measured by money alone - Columnist - New Straits Times http://www.nst.com.my/opinion/columnist/success-not-measured-by-money-alone-1.193259#ixzz2GXPV3ing Source: http://www.nst.com.my/opinion/columnist/success-not-measured-by-money-alone-1.193259

Living life as it is wins hands down

HAVING left the working world a few years ago, the question of whether I should return to the working world with all its grind and glory does pose a temptation at times. This is especially so when I go out shopping and shopkeepers wonder if I had taken a day off and I would smile and politely say that every day is a day off to me. Then there are friends who are still going to the office daily and they would tell me the happenings of the day. The greatest temptation is when someone offers me a lucrative job. I certainly do not miss the traffic jam, the office politics, the red tape or the injustices. But truth be told, I miss teaching. Period.

So, I would go through this long mental debate of whether I should go out into the dog-eat-dog world again, feel those extra wads of cash in my pocket, see the faces of my students and why I opted out in the first place. The result is always the same: living life as it is wins hands down.

It is living life in its raw simplicity, seeing things through the eyes of a child -- full of curiosity and amazement. I enjoy animated films because they are creative and fun, the most recent being Hotel Transylvania where Dracula with all his fangs bites no one. I enjoy comic heroes like Superman, Spiderman or Batman because they are larger than life. They suspend reality and portray the element of hope. It is living life in celebration of my strengths and trying to achieve a good balance between who I am and what I want to be. It is a space where I have carved for myself to nurture my self worth which is no longer defined by an academic degree or a pay cheque or a life in a prestigious enclave of the city with the rich and famous. Mark Twain says, "A man cannot be comfortable with himself without his own approval." I can retreat into my creative side and make cards or paint or write or read. I can be a friend by inviting others to my home anytime for home brewed tea and egg sandwiches. Speaking of which, after two years of waiting for the carpenter, the electrician and the contractor, I finally have a room that screams of my presence everywhere. It bears distinctive touches of its mistress: a world of collectibles, childhood memories and sepia-toned photographs. It is a room where yet another string can be added to my bow, and I can be stronger. I have decided to name it Howards End after E.M. Forster's novel which revolves around refuge and ownership.

It is living life in the knowledge that we make mistakes again and again but we can heal and recover. It is when we go through a variety of experiences that we can empathise with others and offer a shoulder for someone else to cry on. It is living life with more time in my hands. There is no clocking in or clocking out. I can go to bed late without worrying about the alarm clock. I can sleep in if the winds are still howling outside and the frost is building up. I can refuse to leave the warm duvet and instead watch the birds fight over the unfortunate worm that has decided to wriggle out of the damp ground. I can just choose to take that carrot or that chunk of meat out of the refrigerator as and when I want to cook without having to pre-plan the meal the night before. It is certainly easier to make adjustments, to pack the bags and go for a holiday or to attend to an urgent matter without having to apply for leave It is living life in anticipation of what is to come. Autumn with its mellow fruitfulness is almost over. The leaves are falling and covering the sidewalks and soon winter will be here. My coats, hats, boots and gloves will resurface from the closet and I will have great fun coordinating what goes with what. It is also living with the excitement that my children have grown a little older, a little more mature and independent and a lot more precious. It is feeling happy in one's own skin. It is to be content.

Read more: Living life as it is wins hands down - Columnist - New Straits Times http://www.nst.com.my/opinion/columnist/living-life-as-it-is-wins-hands-down-1.172749#ixzz2Cae9rqEI

A tale of two frogs and a vat of cream

Once upon a time there were two frogs Frank and Fiona that fell into a vat of cream. Frank lamented and despaired and succumbed to the watery death. Fiona decided she would not give up without a fight and started to paddle fast and furiously only to realise that the cream had turned into butter and so with her webbed feet strongly anchored on the buttery base she leapt out of the vat into freedom. I heard that story when I was a child but it baffled me because I had no inkling of how cream could be turned into butter. But now I know because I have just participated in an event organised by the Limerick International Women’s Organisation- a butter making session conducted by Imen McDonnell.

It was a hands on session and as I shook the bottle which was filled with cream, I could literally see the cream curdling and turning into butter. That immediately got me thinking. When put in a tight situation will I be like Frank or Fiona? Do I look at the waves around me and hold my head in my hands and wait for the inevitable to happen or do I try to make sense of it and get out of it? Seeing a new born baby kicking and screaming as it enters the world convinces me that we are imbued with a fighting spirit. As with many things, with time this spirit can either become more emboldened or quelled.

Vincent Van Gogh said, ‘If you hear a voice within you say ‘you cannot paint’ then by all means paint, and that voice will be silenced.’ I totally agree that we need to try to find out what we can or cannot do. With trying, there will be failures and when we face our failures and forgive ourselves, we know that we still have the fighting spirit. It is certainly easier to be negative than to be positive in a world that is often harsh and unkind – be it at home, at school and at the work place. Someone once asked me how a person can keep on having a positive outlook on life. My reply was to make a conscious choice in cases where we have two options: to fight to survive or to retreat to despair. I believe that a fighting spirit is emboldened by circumstances. Immigrants to new lands seeking survival and fortune are often very hardworking and driven. I saw that in my ancestors and I can see that now in many of those who have come from the Eastern bloc and are working in Ireland. Those who knew little English took it upon themselves to improve by going for language classes. I see hardworking waiters and waitresses cleaning tables and always on-the-go. The ‘one-chance’ mindset also helps to propel the fighting spirit. If we are brought up to understand that we have only ‘one-chance’ to study hard, to get that scholarship or to get an illustrious career, then we learn how to be focussed, to be disciplined and to make decisions at an early age. If we are brought up to know that to succeed is to work hard and not to depend on others, then that is the code of ethics that will drive us. A fighting spirit and self esteem go hand-in-hand. It is like the chicken and egg story and I do not know whether it is the fighting spirit that increases self esteem or the other way round. But there is nothing to lose if we start by building up self esteem. When self esteem is low, we think that ‘everything is about me, me, me’ and everyone else seems to be ‘attacking me.’ We start comparing ourselves with others and what follows is disappointment, jealousy and blame-shifting. We blame others for our present state, never ourselves.

But when we are self assured of both our strengths and weaknesses, then everything is about ‘what I can do to make the situation better’. If we see someone else who is more successful, instead of feeling small, griping or back-biting, we can make that the desire that drives us to better ourselves. Maybe we need to say to ourselves what Lauren Bacall once said, ‘I’m not a has-been. I am a will-be.’

Source: http://www.nst.com.my/opinion/columnist/a-tale-of-two-frogs-and-a-vat-of-cream-1.100579

MAKING CHOICES

Listening to Elton John’s Goodbye, yellow brick road on the radio brings back pleasant memories. It was the song to sing during the 70s when my sister and I cycled to school, when I met up with my classmates and when I needed a break from doing homework. We were living in a shop house at that time and there were two shops selling music cassettes and records in the vicinity so the song blared through the loudspeakers in its heyday. I knew the words by heart but I now wonder whether I really understood what they meant. At that time, it sufficed that the tune was catchy enough.

The yellow brick road appears in the novel The Wonderful Wizard of Oz by L. Frank Baum. It is the road for Dorothy to follow if she wishes to reach the Emerald City which is built of green glass, emeralds and other jewels. The Emerald City symbolises a fraudulent world and does not have true value.

At some point or other we work towards reaching this Emerald City.

For some, purchasing only branded items would signify that they have reached the Emerald City.

Whether it was a decade ago or now, branded goods still play a very big role when we want to be associated with the uptown lifestyle. Most of us love beautiful and expensive things. This is absolutely alright until we become obsessed with wearing designer labels and nothing else and judge others who are not like us. We were visiting the Spanish Steps in Rome when my son told me his boss had asked him to buy a Prada bag. So we went to the most famous fashion streets in Rome: Via Condotti, Via Borgognona and Via Frattina. In our sensible clothes and shoes, we did not exactly look like potential haute couture customers, so needless to say no stylishly coiffured sales assistant in black stilettos rushed over to serve us.

For others, accumulating accolades and awards would mean that success is in their hands.

There is nothing wrong with advancing oneself or getting into prestigious universities but it is very annoying to have to put up with people who constantly boast about their own accomplishments or their children’s accomplishments. These people are also extremely competitive and they love to talk about themselves, their worlds and their views. My driving instructor once told me that one learner driver failed six times on the road because he would not follow instructions. That particular learner driver had a doctorate from a renowned university and thought he knew the rules of the road better than the driving instructor. A well qualified person who is modest and unassuming is a breath of fresh air and a real gem.

Then , there are some who want to reach the Emerald City by riding on others. These are the shallow sycophants and the opportunists who would work to selfishly advance their own careers without putting in their fair share of work. I remember someone asking me to edit a book. What I later found out was that she would ‘dictate’ some ideas to me but I was to write out the whole book. Her name would then be published as the writer and I would be the editor. I was aghast that such an idea could have been hatched in the first place.

If there is a physical and temporal emerald city, then there must be dreams and visions and values that are good and rewarding. Hard work, discipline and determination are values to be proud of. One of the students who attended a MUET seminar that I once conducted had just written to me.

“I'm Adzim and I hope that you still remember me...After a series of failures in my attempt to achieve Band 4, I finally scored Band 5 for my MUET (mid-year 2011)...Just want to let you know and I have included my results in the attachment file.”

Walt Disney said, ‘If you do not have dreams, how are you going to make your dream come true!" and "All dreams are possible if we have the courage to pursue them!"

Staying true to who we are will help us take stock and consciously shed off the trappings that we pick up along the way. It is exactly a year since I opted out for early retirement. Someone told me that I would die of boredom and that I would be running back to the office after six months. All I can say is that nothing could match the sheer satisfaction of my first year of living life in all its simplicity, with time to call my own.

As I sit in the car and listen to the rest of Elton John’s song, I am glad I took that decisive step and never looked back.

REALISING A DREAM

I HAVE climbed the high tower of Yeat’s Thoor Ballylee, the Tower house and surveyed the terrain of my life.
Nearby at Coole Lake, white swans gracefully swim with cygnets in tow. The air is fresh and crisp. Hundred-year-old trees line the countryside road, and the
smell of oven-baked soda bread fills the air. Wild daisies throng the road and fields of lavender overwhelm me. The images seem to jump up from a storybook or a movie like P.S. I Love You.
Deciding to leave a profession that I had enjoyed for 27 years is a gargantuan task of resolve and determination. The day I handed in my optional retirement papers, close friends screamed, “You are too young”, “I’m so envious” and “What a loss to Malaysia” and my students cried “The university will die without you”.

Knowing that I was entering a lecture hall for that final lecture and listening to students crooning farewell songs could bring a tear even to a glass eye.

Some of my colleagues tapped me on my shoulder and said, “Brave girl, I wish I could do the same”.
Indeed it was a big step, taken after careful planning and building up the nest egg.

Women in my mother’s day hardly went out to work. They could only officially retire when they leave the world. Since young, my motto has always been to excel
in what I do. Some call me a perfectionist, but I prefer to see it as trying to perfect whatever I do, to learn from my mistakes and not to be too harsh on another or worse still, take a moral stand and judge others with my limited mortal eye.

I can remember that my original dream was to be a homemaker, a wife and a mother. Somehow, I have this affinity with all things related to housekeeping and child rearing. But like any other young person who never made it to the
Forbes list of the richest people in America, I had to join the workforce.

The students were wonderful. The admiration was great. The floodlights, the microphone and the audience made it all very tantalising.

The pretty kebayas, the good money and grand dinners made the adrenalin rush.

The best was seeing one’s name in the newspaper, in journals and in books.

But then again….. It is only when we dare to leave the old that we can embrace the new. If Columbus had not left his homeland, America would not have been discovered.

When something extraordinary happens in the lives of ordinary people, it is worth every sacrifice of the familiar to welcome the challenge that lies ahead.

Like trading in the regional driving licence for a more expensive international one. Having been so used to cruising along concrete nondescript highways, I now have to learn all over again how to meander through country roads flanked by lush green meadows and the Jacobean sheep and Friesians that dot them. I would
also have to trade in my 34°C of everyday sunshine for drizzles, frost and snow.

As I celebrated the last Chinese New Year with family and friends and listened to the sounds of firecrackers and drumbeats that ushered in the Year of the Tiger, I wondered whether the Chinese New Year festival in another land would be the same?

The best part is that I am learning to savour. I am learning to take long
walks and enjoy Oscar Wilde’s writings. I am learning to spend time with the people I love and treasure the moments. I am learning that it is all right to leave behind things that once mattered — the rat race, the promotion, the glamour, the glory and the chasing after the wind. I am learning it is fine just to get to know myself. No more paper qualifications, no more applause, no more appendages to define my being.

It is a celebration of diversity where I will learn to live with a new bunch of people renowned for their wit and humour. While I’ll teach others to eat with chopsticks, I will also learn that Riverdance is not necessarily by the river.

It is summer again and a new chapter of my life has begun. I am now basking in the beauty of an idyllic county, learning how to be proud of who I am and what I have become. I am back to my original dream of being a full-time wife and mother. And I am still perfecting the art of frying sausages and hoping to catch a leprechaun.