Penultimate.

Busy days for me, as the penultimate week of my second semester comes to an end. Next week I'll have five tests, one presentation and at least four assignments (one of which is thankfully already complete) due. I don't attribute all this purely to my procrastination (although that did, of course, play a part); there were plenty of other factors beyond my control that led to everything being backed up to this extent.

As is the nature of the universe during times like this where immense concentration on my studies is required, I am finding myself constantly distracted by other things, like my wanting to write this blog post, for instance. The upcoming weekend gives me temporary respite from the hecticness of university life, although I know I should be filling my so-called days of rest with extensive studying. 

It's hardly comforting to remind myself that I am still in my second semester, and things aren't exactly going to get easier from here. I can still find time play video games, stare into space, and carry out my daily internet-aided procrastination. I've been told that I'm supposed to write a research paper in my final year, and I can hardly imagine how that'll be for me.

The good thing about all this chaos, though, is that it keeps my brain working. Rather than just stagnating, brain juices just seem to flow furiously and seamlessly through my head. This comes in rather handy for when I'm doing my work, although it's a slight pity that I can't be using all this creative energy to start writing stories again. I am rather tempted to at times, though.

I suppose I should be thankful for all this. I mean, I did kinda ask for it, anyway. A lack of things to do besides merely attending lectures earlier in the semester left me feeling bored and itching to get to work, and I remember wondering if all that free time from cancelled lectures and postponed quizzes would come back to bite me in the bottom at some point.

Well, I guess I'm finding out now, and all I can say is that it's not a situation that I (or my one and only classmate, for that matter) particularly enjoy. Yes, I did ask for work, but not all at frickin' once. It doesn't even end with the final week of the semester either: my final exams involve six papers in five days. That may have been acceptable back in primary school, but it's hardly ideal when the subjects you're taking involve things a bit more complex than basic fractions and state flags.

The situation was hardly avoidable, though. I'm to go for umrah in Mecca in the week following finals week, so I had to request that all my papers be scheduled in the same week. I wouldn't have had to if the semester hadn't been extended by one week either; that extension was due to the ridiculous amount of public and campus holidays we've had recently.

Anyway, I'm going to be so relieved when this semester is over. Due to the management wanting to standardize the academic calendar for all the six current intakes of degree students, my third semester will be starting in early February, meaning that I'll get an extra month off to go with my three weeks of semester break. I'll probably still be in and around the MIU campus anyway, as my lecturers tell me that some 'soft skills' courses will be offered.

Well, I'm glad I've gotten all that out, as I haven't really been talking to anyone outside Manipal much recently. Congratulations to you if you've managed to make it to this point, and thanks for reading.

No Excuses.

Over a month has passed since my last post, and with it, a whole bunch of other stuff that I could write about.

I could write about the trip to an Indian orphanage in Rembau, and how being in the Rembau area invoked within me feelings of nostalgia, and how I was touched by how happy the kids there were with their lot, despite it not being much to shout about.

I could write about the surprise party for my birthday that had been held a week before the actual date, and how I experienced that feeling of utter awkwardness of not knowing what to do while everyone else was singing 'Happy Birthday', and how that led me to absent-mindedly cut my cake before blowing out the candles.

I could write about how an unexpected call from a former schoolmate currently studying in Canada came to wish me a happy birthday (albeit a belated one), and how I was so pleasantly surprised by the whole thing that I was probably red in the face for the next half hour or so.

I could write about how I went home every weekend for the past month or so to attend some seminars, where the speakers were some of my parents' friends from Nigeria, and how I learnt a whole bunch of stuff. Oh, and how we had a grand dinner at a fancy Arabian restaurant after all that was over.

I could write about how I was in an exceptionally good mood last week, and how, despite me being exposed to some so-called 'office politics' due to some conflicts regarding one of the subjects I've been taking for this past semester, it refused to be significantly tainted.

But no. I'm not going to write about any of that.

Wait, what? I just did? Oh, well. Anyway, we'll move on to the main point of my post now.

My mother recently completed her PhD after four long, hard years. Her convocation was held at Universiti Kebangsaan Malaysia (UKM), Bangi last Saturday, and I and three of my eldest younger siblings went with her to celebrate the occasion. We might have brought some of the younger ones along as well, but they were all too young to be allowed into the event hall.

The place was huge; my guess would be that it could hold a few thousand people. It was my first time in such a hall, and I wondered how it would feel to be sitting for an exam in such a cavernous building. I mean, it was so big that it could hold all the people graduating at the convocation ceremony that day, as well as their invited guests.  

So yeah, a whole lot of people received their scrolls that day. So many, in fact, that a good number of spectators decided to catch a few Z's while the convocation was going on. Some people even managed to get their snoozing caught on camera, to be broadcasted onto giant screens where everyone in the hall could see them.

I should also mention that the scrolls were given out by the Chancellor of UKM, who was none other than the Yang Di-Pertuan Besar (YDP) of Negeri Sembilan. His face largely contained a look of disinterest throughout the entire ceremony; but then again, maybe that's just his regular expression. Nevertheless, I found him and his overall manner to be absolutely fabulous. I can't remember how long my brother and I spent discussing how awesome his hair and moustache were. My sisters, too, seemed to be equally impressed. 

To top things off, the state song of Negeri Sembilan was played at the beginning and the end of the convocation. I honestly enjoyed singing it, as it had been a while since I'd last done so. I've always liked the song anyway, so yeah.

We couldn't get the YDP to pose for a picture with us, unfortunately.

Anyhow, after all that was over, I started to wonder exactly how much of a struggle it was for my mother to somehow complete her PhD (with distinction!) while raising ten kids, coping with office politics, and volunteering in NGOs, among other things. And then I thought of my own studies as a bachelor's degree student, and just how relatively petty my own obstacles to success were.

It just goes to show that where there's a will, there's a way. I shouldn't be allowing trivial matters to disrupt my mission to maintain my 4.0 CGPA for this current semester, as well as all the ones that come after it. I need to really dig deep within myself, and maximize the potential that I've always known was there all along.

No excuses, old boy. No excuses.

Proud.

Earlier today, a three-person panel from the Malaysian Qualifications Agency (MQA) paid a visit to my university as part of the process to get accreditation for its Foundation in Engineering (FIE) program. They had done this before, and had interviewed some of the lecturers and other staff members. This time round, though, they went for arguably the most important part of a learning institution - the students.

A number of students from the FIE program, including a few of my housemates, were selected for the interview session, as were the five main council members of the Student Representative Council. Being the Secretary of said Council, I was made to dress formally on the day and attend the group interview.

In truth, I didn't end up doing much speaking at all. The questions asked by the panel members were mostly routine - role of the Student Representative Council, activities we had planned for in the future, main problems faced by students, etc. - and were rather calmly answered by the Council President (they just asked the same questions as "last time", he later said). All the rest of us had to do was just sit there quietly and smile and nod in polite agreement.

At the end of the interview, one of the panelists asked: "Are you proud to be a student of MIU?"

The reply from each of the other Council members can be summarized as a big, collective 'meh'. I, however, said that I was "very proud" to be a student here. Which I was. Or am, rather.

Okay, perhaps at the time I confused being very proud with very happy. And indeed, I am very happy at MIU, in spite of everything.

It's understandable if the students here are mostly unhappy with studying at Manipal. The campus is still in its infancy stage, and is hence largely lacking in decent facilities. Tiny library with too few books, tiny cafeteria with too little choice of food, tiny building that can barely contain its expanding number of students and staff - the list goes on.

I'm quite content with what I have here, though. I'm enjoying my studies, and I have good friends around the place. What more could I need in this university, when my main objective in coming here is to obtain as much knowledge as possible?  Sure, there are things that I want, but since they're not nearly as important as what I need, then I'm willing to wait.

Anyway, upon reflection, I realized that I'm not really "very proud" to be a student at MIU, mainly because there's not much to be proud of. I can't even claim to be proud of being one of the very few Malay students here anymore either, with our number due to at least double with the incoming September intake.

What I can be proud of, though - or potentially proud of, anyway - is that I'll be part of one of the first batches to graduate from MIU. I have the chance to blaze a trail; to set a standard of excellence to be used as a benchmark for all the university's future students - and even more so with my position in the Student Representative Council.

So maybe I'm not very proud of being a student of MIU right about now. But here's hoping that there will soon come a day that I will be.

Revamped.

Image courtesy of Facebook.

In my last post I wrote about the upcoming election for my university's Student Representative Counil (SRC), and that I had been uncontested for my post as one of the two Secretaries.

(On a side note, what does a secretary do, anyway? I've always thought that their job description was mainly to write things down. But then again, that just sounds too easy - there's a reason why this post was uncontested.)

The election was held last Wednesday, 28th August 2013, and the results were supposed to have been announced the very next day. Well, this did not transpire, for some reason or another. On the afternoon of the scheduled results day, an e-mail was sent out from Student Affairs to all the students which stated that a re-election was to be held. 

Apparently, it was decided that this would be done in order to "clear questionable doubts on the process of election" - whatever that meant. Conspiracy theorists would conclude that an 'undesirable candidate' had gotten the most votes for President, but I'm not one to stir up such controversy.

So anyway, the re-election was held on Monday, and the results announced the day after. As expected, the favorites for each position all won - although one might argue that the Zimbabwean who won Treasurer was a shock pick; he did only win by one vote, after all.

I was glad that the guy won, though, and not just because he's a friend and batchmate of mine. His presence on the SRC meant that the numerous Africans in the student body would have a voice; a say in whatever the SRC comes up with. Also, the fact that both Secretaries are Malay and one of the Committee Members is Chinese means that there is more diversity in the Council this time around. If all the SRC members had been Indian, like last time, it would be much harder to achieve what is arguably our main objective - to instil unity among the students. I'm not being racist or anything, but people do tend to believe in and support something more if one of their own is involved in it. That's just the way the world works.

Anyway, now that the election's done and dusted, I can look forward to carrying out my duties as one of the SRC Secretaries, although I'm still unclear on what my role is exactly. The upcoming meeting with the Vice-Chancellor should clear that up.  

I'm sure I'm not alone in hoping that this new SRC will spell brighter days ahead for MIU. It's been said that the students are the soul of a university, and maybe now this university's soul will be getting some much-needed chicken soup. Unity in diversity is the goal, and this revamped, more cosmopolitan SRC should be well-equipped to achieve it. I, for one, am determined to make that happen - even if my job is only to write things down.

Student Elections.

It's all been fairly dull since I completed my first semester. The second one was supposed to have started right after my three-week break, but as I explained in an earlier post, it didn't, and I've been undergoing a short semester for about ten weeks now.

Well, that short semester (which was actually optional, by the way) is over now, as my second semester begins next week. My schedule's looking pretty packed, what with having six subjects to study as opposed to five from the first semester. However, I'm yet to receive my timetable, so as of yet I'm still unsure of just how busy I'll be starting next week.

The beginning of my second semester isn't the most significant thing happening around my university next week, however. Student Representative Council (SRC) elections are to be held, and in a small place like this, it's a pretty big thing.

The former SRC came under a lot of criticism (even from within) for not really doing a great deal. Without delving too much into that, there seems to be a widespread notion that many of the university's students want some form of change - indeed, only two of the seven former SRC members are running this year.

So what about me, then? Surely I must be getting myself involved in some way? Well, I am involved; I'm running for secretary. 

At first, I'd applied for the position of president, mainly because I'd heard that some of the so-called 'big guns' didn't want the post. I assumed that no one would be running for that particular position, so I just went ahead with it. I was wrong, as it turned out - the lady in charge of receiving candidacy applications told me there actually were a number of candidates running, so she advised me to go for another post. I agreed, and eventually decided on running for secretary.

The candidates' names were released last night, and there's some good news - for me, at least. Two spots for secretary were available (namely Secretary I and Secretary II) and there was only one other candidate besides me. This means I'm guaranteed a spot on the SRC, although there are slight doubts over which secretary I'll end up as. (In the announcement, though, my name was before the other candidate, so maybe that means something, eh.)

Being in the SRC will be a new and valuable experience for me, and I look forward to involving myself in...well, whatever it is the SRC will be doing. In any case, I hope that I'll be able to carry out my duties responsibly and brilliantly. Who knows, with the experience I gain from being the secretary this year, maybe I could end up in a higher post next time around?

Football Fan Frustrations.

This weekend marked the opening round of fixtures for the 2013/14 season of the Barclays Premier League. Some sectors heralded it as "the return of football", even though the English Championship actually started last weekend (as did the German Bundesliga), and the Champions League qualifying rounds the week before. Heck, there had even been an international tournament played during the summer, plus numerous friendlies and World Cup qualifying matches. 

In any case, for avid followers of the Premier League, so-called real football had returned. There are many people out there who look forward to watching football clubs in the top tier of English football duke it out on the pitch every weekend, and really do miss it during the summer. Non-Premier League football is no substitute for the real thing.

So anyway, being an Arsenal fan, I was really hoping for a good opening-day result against Aston Villa, especially as we were playing on home turf. For those of you who follow English football, you'll know that, unfortunately for me, Arsenal fans don't really get what they hope for much these days.

After opening the scoring after only six minutes, we duly went on to concede two goals from penalties, got a player sent off, and concede another goal from a counter-attack. Well, these things happen in football, and being an Arsenal supporter since 2007, I've gotten used to this kind of disappointing result.

What really pisses me off, however, is when people rub these results in my face. How can I watch football in peace when someone else in the room is dissing my favorite team, insulting its players, heckling the manager, and basically calling out doom and gloom for Arsenal after only the first match of the season, and all this at the top of his damn lungs? It's already painful enough to suffer a home defeat - I don't need someone rubbing salt and lemon juice into my wounds.

I get it, heckling is a part of sport, and that includes football. But that doesn't change the fact that it's not a very nice thing to do, and especially when you do it to someone who never heckles your team (or any other team, for that matter) back.

Yes, I am passionate about football, but it's not something I like to talk about. The enjoyment (or otherwise) that I get from it I mostly keep to myself, and the same goes for my opinions on the topic. I don't like people insulting my team, so I don't insult other teams. (Criticism, though, is tolerable. The problem with most people is that they tend to get too emotional when it comes to football, so criticism usually turns to insult.)

Football is known as a game for the working-class, so naturally there are a lot of fans who are idiots/douchebags. However, that doesn't make it an excuse for a person who usually respects other people and their opinions to act like these idiots/douchebags when it comes to football.

I'm sure I'm not the only one out there who prefers to be left alone when it comes to watching football. The problem is, there aren't enough of us to be truly understood by the rest of the football-watching community.

Raya 2013 Musings.

So we celebrated Aidilfitri (or more commonly known as Raya in Malaysia) last Thursday, 8th August 2013. This day marks 1st Syawal in the Islamic calendar, or in other words, the first day after the last day of the fasting month of Ramadan. In most countries they just sound out the 'takbir Raya' in the morning (as well as the night before) and then go about their daily routines. In Malaysia, though, Raya is a big thing.

Traditionally, Raya is when the Muslim Malays travel to their respective hometowns to gather with their family members. People are dressed in fancy traditional costumes. Everyone eats traditional Raya food like lemang and rendang, and the young ones (and also the young at heart) play with firecrackers. Finger treats in the form of kuih raya are in abundance. Money in the form of duit raya is handed out by the older people in the family to the younger ones.

Aidilfitri is a day that is richly embedded into Malay culture. Never mind that it's really a religious celebration; whenever you mention Raya here in this country, you inevitably tend to associate the celebration with Malays.

Well, then. Whenever something this big comes around, there is always room for criticism. And it seems (to me, anyway) that this year the Raya criticism tends to be directed towards the younger generation, or at least just the ones who are constantly glued to the screens of their electronic devices.

The main point of this criticism is the fact that the levels of human interaction are decreased, thanks to these evil electronic devices. Well, I do get that. You really should be using the opportunity to talk with and strengthen bonds between people you only get to see once or twice a year. It's better to face an actual person than your phone or tablet. But what happens when you don't interact with people even without fixating your gaze onto a screen?

That's exactly how it is in my case. Being an introvert, I generally don't like large gatherings, regardless of whoever it is that's in attendance. If there's no one to talk to, or if I don't feel like talking to anyone, I'll just sit by myself and read a book or eat or something. However, I don't play with my handheld electronic device (in this case, my phone), but mostly because I don't really do that anyway.

So what am I getting at here? Well, in this extrovert-filled world, some people just don't understand how you wouldn't want to be socializing 24/7. Maybe these young people turn to their phones, tablets and laptops because they need a break from all the talking and interacting. Maybe they're like me, and don't really like talking or interacting (well, not all the time, anyway). 

Or maybe they're just so addicted that they just don't know how or when to switch off. I wouldn't know; it's not something I can really relate to.

Accents.

Back when I was younger, I was a much more fluent speaker of English than I am today. This was largely due to the fact that English was the main language of communication that I used during my international school years. Heck, I even considered English to be my first language instead of Malay, such was my tendency to use it. In my head, even, my thoughts were exclusively in English.

I don't know exactly where my infatuation with the English language originated from. Perhaps it was the early exposure from my parents, who were both excellent in the tongue. I grew up reading English books, and watching English TV shows and films.

Now, by this point, you may be expecting my first word to be an English one. Well, it wasn't. I've been told by my relatives that it was actually tumpah, the Malay word meaning 'spilled'.

In any case, my first word was proof that I wasn't raised in an English-only environment. It was just as bilingual as that experienced by many Malays. However, for some reason, I always preferred English over my native tongue. My mother would buy me Malay storybooks and stuff, but I never got around to reading them (even up till today) due to a distinct lack of interest.

As I grew up watching predominantly US-based programs on TV, it was only natural that I developed an American accent. I also picked up British at some point, but I can't really pin down how that happened.

People in Malaysia love those accents - well, in general, anyway. When a Malaysian speaks with a British accent, it somehow makes him or her sound educated. As for an American accent, it gives you the impression that the person using it talks a lot, and in English to boot. Basically, if you're a Malaysian who speaks with either one of these accents, the first impression held of you by others is generally one of high regard.

However, this is mostly untrue in a primary, and even secondary school setting, particularly in typical Malaysian public schools. Most of the students there only have a basic grasp of the English language, and their manner of speech reflects as much. Kids who speak English well are generally thought of as rich, snobby show-offs.

It was due to this that I, upon moving to a public school at the age of 10, felt the need to lay low on the English-speaking. As the new kid on the block, it simply wouldn't do to just go around imposing my English capabilities on everyone, now, would it.

In spite of that, I still managed to preserve my accent, as I had several English-speaking friends. What really did it for my accent, however, was when I moved to Rembau.

In Rembau, I was surrounded by Malays; Malays whom I'd never bet before in my life. Determined to fit in and not be teased about my accent, I made the decision to speak entirely in Malay. That's right - I didn't even allow myself to rojak things up. I wouldn't even talk to my English teacher in English, only in Malay. I believe there were even instances where I actually pretended to be unable to speak English fluently (or maybe that was at my previous school, I can't remember).

As time went on, it was clear that I was fooling no one as I consistently got high marks for my English papers during the exams. I realized that not speaking English would make my fluency (and accent) go away, so I decided to use it more. Even though I still spoke mostly in full Malay, whenever I did have to speak in English I did it properly. There was one time when I had to do some public speaking during the morning assembly, and on a whim (and also popular demand from my classmates) I gave my speech in my British accent.

Unfortunately, by that time it just wasn't the same. Speaking English and not sounding like a non-native speaker was no longer as natural as it used to be.

I was saddened by this, at first. As time went on, though, I decided to embrace it. I am a Malaysian after all, so what's wrong with sounding like one? If people around you are rojak-ing, what would their perception of you if you respond by sounding like a Silicon Valley girl, or the butler Alfred?

Accents are fine in a formal setting, like a presentation or a speaking test. However, you can't go to a wet market and go "Lovely morning, my good sir! How much is it for two kilograms of this fine mackerel?"

A good communicator adapts his or her speech to the manner that is most comfortable for the person he or she is speaking to, and the most appropriate for the situation. Having an accent is great and all, but if the person you're talking to can't understand you, or even feels inferior due to not being able to speak as well as you, then there's really no point, is there.

  

But What About the Children?

Last night I attended the Night for SEMOA Charity Dinner at Taylor's College, Subang Jaya. A friend of mine (and fellow Valed) was one of the guys organizing the event, so I decided that I would cough up the RM60 that was required to purchase one of the limited number of tickets. Why not, I thought. Aside from giving to charity, I could also meet up with some old friends and eat some good food while I was at it as well. 

Before I continue, I should probably give you some background information on SEMOA first. SEMOA is a non-profit organization (NGO) focused on improving the livelihood of Orang Asli (indigenous people of Malaysia) children through the Orang Asli Education Centre (OAEC). Among other things, it does things like distribute rice and clothes, build houses, and provide free basic education. (For more information about SEMOA and how you can help out, click here.)

Right, so back to the dinner. It was pretty good, I must admit.

The food - nasi briyani, typically, and complementing dishes like chicken and beef - was nice, albeit limited. The floor layout and organization was well-planned, too, as there didn't seem to be anybody having difficulty moving around or finding their seat. 

The performances were alright, too - some music, as well as a short play. It was just too bad that I could hardly make out what was being sung during the musical acts, though. I blame the lack of sound absorbers in the hall that the dinner was being held in. As for the play, although a bit lacking and predictable in terms of storyline, it still gets my thumbs up due to the good acting.

But anyway, the main thing I would like to highlight from my thoughts on the dinner is this:

With all the good food, performances, and especially the reunion with old friends, many of us may have forgotten what had caused the dinner to be held in the first place - the Orang Asli children.

Around half of the attendees to the dinner were friends of the students who had organized the event. It was then, of course, understandable that they (being technically still teenagers, after all) would be more than a bit excited at meeting one another. So excited, in fact, that they missed out on listening to the one good speech on the night.

Most of the speeches had been given before the actual 'tucking in' began. These were all the usual, boring ones - you know, the words of appreciation, how the event was conceived, and so on. However, after most people had finished eating (I was still munching away on my second helping), it was time for one of the SEMOA representatives to speak on behalf of the organization.

To be honest, I didn't catch half of what the man said, myself. I did get some snippets, however, in which he spoke very well about the importance of education. A very typical and dull topic, you may think, but this guy made it sound interesting. I would have been happy to just sit quietly and listen to him, but it would have been rude to ignore the people who were talking to me at the time.

And indeed, almost everyone was talking throughout the entirety of the speech. The guy sitting next to me at my table (not a Valed; a friend from Manipal who I had invited to tag along, and since the other guys didn't know him, they didn't talk to him much) first brought this observation to my attention, and that realization caused me to feel a slight tinge of sadness. It was almost as if no one cared about the guy up on the stage and behind the podium, or the organization he was representing; the only reason they came to the event was merely to meet up with their buddies.

Credit has to be given to the speaker, though. I'm pretty sure he was fully aware that he was being largely ignored, but he never swayed in his tone and manner. He deserved the hearty round of applause that he got when he was done - although I'm sure that most people only clapped because everyone else was clapping.

Some of the Orang Asli children under SEMOA had actually attended the dinner as well, and in what I presume to be their best clothes (except for a number of them who were dressed for the dance performance they gave at one point during the dinner). It's just as well that they were probably too young to come to the same conclusions that I did, or that would have caused quite some embarrassment on our part.

Then again, my conclusions could be wrong. The organization got RM15, 000 after all, and might not have cared a jot why the people who had donated the money had even done so in the first place. All that money had probably been donated with good intentions anyway, and everyone had just temporarily forgotten all that due to the rising dopamine levels caused by meeting old friends. Maybe I just think too much. I did enjoy meeting my old friends again, and maybe I felt psychologically obliged to somehow feel guilty about enjoying myself.

In any case, the dinner was for a good cause - the underprivileged children of the Orang Asli. Here's hoping that the money donated to that cause will help them to achieve great things in the future.

Reading.

Back when I was a kid, reading was a favorite pastime of mine. I spent countless hours flitting through the pages of numerous books, novels, encyclopedias - basically, anything that had words on it. And by words, I mean English words. I never did feel drawn to anything written in  my native language, for some reason.

I absolutely loved reading. While other kids were running around, watching television, playing with toys and socializing, I was immersing myself in the vast expanses of my own imagination, guided by the words of writers who lived in different countries, continents, and even time periods. It wasn't that I didn't do any of those other things typical of children my age, I just spent a much larger portion of my time surrounding myself with books. 

Books were my constant companions. I recall having sizeable stacks of them with me on my bed, so that I could read myself bedtime stories to put myself to sleep. This never worked, however - I always found myself so intrigued by the book I was reading that I would fight off my drowsiness in order to finish a particular section. 

I suppose it's unsurprising that I didn't have many friends back then. I guess I just didn't find other children to be even half as interesting as any of the characters in the stories I read, or the other marvelous things that I read about in my encyclopedias. No one at that age really cared for any of that, I suppose - at least no one I'd met, anyway. 

As the years passed, I found that I wasn't reading as much as I used to. Part of this I attribute to the fact that I'd read practically every book at home that I'd found to be appealing, and as we didn't buy a lot of new material I'd settle for re-reading the old stuff. Besides that, I had now found friends and discovered a love for football, so these things kept me occupied, away from my books. The fact that school got increasingly harder played its part in all this, too.

I still found time to do my reading, though, albeit not in the way I'd done it in the past. This, you see, was due to my discovery of the internet and the information and knowledge that came with it. I now spent my days roaming Wikipedia and football-related websites in order to fulfill my new, insatiable thirst for knowledge of all things football. As an aside, I read up on chess-related topics as well; I was part of the school team and felt the need to constantly improve myself.

In between all this internet reading, though, I still managed to find time to read in the traditional way. 

However, there came a time when my reading was brought down to an all-time low - this was last year, during my time at Nirwana. I don't recall reading much at all, as I busied myself with friends and my studies. The lack of good new material was, once again, another contributing factor.

Lately, though, I have been getting new books. Things like this are bound to happen when you get a chunk of cash (in the form of book vouchers) from the government to hit the bookstores with.

So now I have all these new books, and I still have half of my semester break left to finish them. Several years ago this wouldn't have been a problem - I completed each of the last three books in the Harry Potter series in under two days. Now, though, it's a different story. I've learned to take my time, for it is only through relaxed calmness that reading can be truly enjoyed.

They say that there's nothing like your first love, and I tend to agree. I love reading, and I don't see how anything's ever going to change that.

Finals.

So it seems that my final exams for this semester are just around the corner - seeing as I'm writing this after midnight, that means tomorrow. Fortunately, this time around I do feel somewhat motivated.

If only that motivation had come a lot sooner, though. Namely, at the beginning of the week-long study break.

Frankly speaking, I did want to start studying earlier. I was just distracted, as usual. It's kinda hard to concentrate on your studies when everyone around you is doing anything else but. My housemates may have been having their own final exams during the week (they're doing a different program from me) but you could hardly tell by the way they were going about it.

Well, the guys are now done with their finals, and they've all gone home. This means that I have the house all to myself this weekend, plus most of next week as they'll be on semester break.

And what of my own semester break? Well, I'm not in Foundation anymore, so that means I get more than a week's break - namely, a fortnight and a half. Yeah, that's right. Three weeks.

Just the other day one of my lecturers was talking to me about shifting my second semester backwards a bit, meaning that it would start in August instead of June. This was because that it'd be better for me to have a classmate for my second semester onward.

See, if I went ahead and started in June as planned then it would mean that I'd be the sole student in pretty much all my classes for the rest of my three years at Manipal. Starting in August would mean that the only other student in my program in the entire university would be starting her second semester along with me.

I realized the benefits of the arrangement. My only concerns, however, were as follows:

(a) Would it mean that I'd be graduating later than planned?

(b) What the heck would I do until August?

The first question was answered after my lecturer assured me that regardless of whether I started my second semester in June or August, I'd still be graduating at the same convocation ceremony.

As for the second question, though, I was forced to decide between the following options:

(a) Take the whole two-and-a-half months off, effectively making my three-week break into a ten-week one.

(b) Undergo a kind of short semester, taking a couple of elective subjects.

(c) Become a paid student tutor, teaching Math and stuff to Foundation students during tutorials.

(d) Take up an early internship at AirAsia, gaining some valuable experience.

After some consultation with my mother, I decided that I'd go for the second option. Option (a) was completely out of the question, as I'd probably spend all that time off loafing about, leaving my brain relatively inactive. As for option (d), I figured that a single semester wouldn't be enough for me to go for any sort of industrial training, and for all I know I'd probably get bullied there. Option (c) remains viable, though, and I'll see if I can't have that along with option (b). I could use the money.

Anyway, in case I haven't mentioned it before, final exams start tomorrow. Here's hoping and praying that I'll do well.

End of a Chapter.

Well, it's been a while since I've written in.

Fine, that last statement was sort of inaccurate, I suppose. I have written in a couple or so times this month, only to blank out and discard anything I'd already typed out at the time.

I've been busy, I guess. Not exactly unexpected, of course, I had it coming when I signed up to study for a Bachelor's degree. And judging by the fact that I'm still only in the first semester of my first year, it's only gonna get tougher from here on out.

I'm not complaining, of course. This whole semester would have been less stressful if I'd managed to manage my time more wisely. Difficult to do when your friends and housemates are mostly foundation students who have a considerably lighter workload on their backs. Sure, they may be learning stuff like Calculus while I'm being treated to lunch by my Management lecturer, but whatever they're doing for coursework isn't dissimilar to what we had back in school.

Picture courtesy of Richard Nyirenda (second from right).

As for me, one of the major projects I had to carry out for coursework this semester was to organize a stall for the inaugural MIU Charity Food Fair, for English. Being the only guy in a group with six other (older) girls, I was chosen as group leader - and let me tell you, it wasn't easy. We still managed to get the job done in the end, thankfully, and made nearly RM 200 in profits, which will be donated to a local orphanage.

With Food Fair groupmates. Photo courtesy of our course lecturer, Ms. Shanti.

Besides that, there was also the Mid Valley mini-study for my Marketing class. My two coursemates and I were to go to Mid Valley Megamall in KL to study the impact of macroenvironmental forces on business there. We had to take pictures, interview a few people, and so on. I called in a favor from my man Sam for this one, and the two of us managed to come up with a decent video. I included it in the presentation later on,  and my coursemate (the other one had to leave our class to join another one, for reasons)  and I ended up getting a near-perfect score for the project (video certainly helped, thanks Sam!). Still feel like we could have done better, but hey I ain't complaining.

Last but not least, there was the survey for Business Statistics, regarding the MIU library and its services. We had to prepare questionnaires, distribute them to 30 respondents, process the questionnaires and finally present our findings. I actually stayed up until two in the morning preparing the slideshow for that last bit; I could have been done earlier had I not decided to play street soccer with the guys until around nine that night. Anyway, the whole project was fun, but I probably wouldn't enjoy having to go out to get external respondents for the next one.

All in all, it's been a great semester. I've learnt so much, not just about academic stuff but also real life. I tend to think that if I'd gone to study somewhere else, or at least taken up a science-related field I'd still be living under a metaphorical coconut shell. Well, maybe a plastic container, depends on the people I surround myself with.

I've still got a couple of weeks and a few tests to go before the study break and subsequent final exams. Chapter One is soon coming to an end. Keep calm and carry on.

Pampered.

Photo courtesy of Nazmi Abdul Jalil.

MIU recently received a new Vice-Chancellor, Tan Sri Dr. Mohamed Salleh Mohamed Yasin, who is apparently the brother of Malaysia's current Deputy Prime Minister, Tan Sri Muhyiddin bin Yasin. He happens to knows my mother, as they worked together during his time at the Malaysian Qualification Association (MQA).

So anyway, he gave his first address to the students earlier today. He seems pleasant enough, and has that air of achievement that makes you feel that he's the perfect person to take this university forward. And judging by his truckload of past experiences, which include being one of the pioneers of UKM's medical faculty all those years ago, you have to think that he'll do just that.

At the end of his speech we had a brief Q&A session. I just sat quietly in my third-row seat in that lecture hall, wondering what on earth the type of questions we were meant to ask were.

As always, there was an overall reluctance from the hundred or so students sitting comfortably in their seats. The Tan Sri then decided to randomly call upon one of the international students, and the lucky guy was an engineering student from Kolkata, India.

My questions about the questions were then answered, as the guy started to complain about the lack of 'edible' food for him and his fellow international students. Indeed, my Zambian classmate later remarked that she had often seen Mr. Kolkata stare blankly at the food in the cafeteria during lunch, wondering what to do.

And so it continued as such. Complaint after complaint, not only from the expatriates but also my fellow compatriots as well. Some of them, such as the food problem, sounded justifiable enough for me. Others, however, appeared to be rather more petty matters.

A Zambian student voices out some justifiable complaints. Photo courtesy of MIU's official Facebook.

I was just starting to metaphorically shake my head at how pampered these people were, but then I was struck by a slight tang of hypocrisy - I'm not exactly from a background of survival either.

I think it's fair to say that, generally, the students in this country are, to varying degrees, spoiled. And when I say "this country", I'm not just referring to the locals. There's a Bangladesh national here who comes from a family that's so filthy rich that he can't even make himself a cup of tea; butlers have been doing the job for him since he was a kid.

The locals aren't that much better off either. The national education system is structured in such a way that students are regularly spoon-fed, and expect assistance from their teachers for every single exam.

As for MIU, we have students that complain about not having hot water to shower in. Complain that transport to and from the university is difficult. The list goes on. Well, newsflash people, that's how life is. Suck it up, grow up.

I'm not saying that I'm the most independent guy here; no, far from it. I can't even cook a good meal to save my life. However, one thing I do, and have always done, is learn to adapt. Take the hardships as life lessons. What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, and all that.

In any case, MIU is still a new institution, and there's plenty of room for it to improve and grow. I can say that I know a thing or two about life in a place as new as this. And I turned out just fine.

Old Habits Die Hard.

Back in my early primary school days at the private schools IIC and Adni, I was surrounded by classmates who were consistently poor performers during examinations. Perhaps it was due to them coming from wealthy families, and had been spoilt and made to be lazy by such a background. Perhaps they had numerous personal problems that I didn't know about that affected their studies. Or perhaps they were just plain thick.

Regardless of what the reasons were, I suppose I may have been influenced by their irresponsible study habits. I barely ever studied, me finishing my homework was a rare phenomenon, and I was frequently scolded and punished for failing to bring stuff like art supplies, protractors and textbooks for class - and don't get me started on my microscopic handwriting.

In spite of everything, however, I still managed to finish top, or near the top, of the class for every single exam. I'd be one of the first to complete an exam paper, or a handout done in class, or notes we copied down from the whiteboard.

As a result, I figured that I didn't have to work hard to outdo my peers. I got lazy. I procrastinated a lot. I received so many scoldings that eventually they no longer fazed me.

Up to this day, the old habits remain - the laziness, the procrastination, the bad handwriting. I wish I could be rid of them once and for all. I've tried turning over a new leaf many times, but in the end I always revert to default. The fact that I still somehow manage to consistently outperform my peers academically despite putting in significantly less effort than they do doesn't exactly help.

On the bright side, though, progress has been made. My handwriting is still tiny, but no longer illegible. I still put off my work, but I do get it done (not necessarily on time, though). 

Slowly but surely, I'm improving. And that's the way it should be done - slowly but surely. Driving slowly along the highway may take up more time than speeding, but you're less likely to be involved in an accident, and you'll still end up reaching your destination anyway.

Old habits die hard. But they do end up dying.

Foreign Territory.

It isn’t very often that you see someone who has studied and has had a strong interest in science for all his life suddenly turn his attentions to a wholly different field. It’s somewhat of a novelty for me, as most of my friends who took up Science as an elective back in school are currently studying to become either doctors or engineers.

True, there are a small number of them studying accounting, and just the one guy majoring in Communications. These guys are the exception to the rule. But I do believe no one else is doing what I’m doing – switching from Science to Business.

To be honest, I probably wouldn’t be studying Business if I could help it. The only reason I’m learning about things like Management Principles and Marketing is because Actuarial Finance, my chosen field, falls under MIU’s School of Business.

Of course, I’m not exactly complaining here. I’m learning stuff that is completely new to me these days, and as a student you’re supposed to take anything that even resembles knowledge in with open arms.

I’m really loving Financial Accounting at the moment. I just find it to be quite interesting, probably due to (a) its systematic nature and (b) the math involved. And if there are two things that define the way think it’s these two.

Learning about what makes a good manager in Management makes me feel like I’m at a leadership camp of sorts. Maybe the people behind these camps studied Management back while they were students. In any case, the main objective is the same – to mold effective leaders.

Marketing is, at the moment, the dullest of the Business Subjects. But that’s probably because it’s still early days, and hopefully they’re saving the really good stuff for later.

The only (slight) problem with learning these things is that you can barely differentiate key points from more unimportant ones. With Science it was always so much easier to tell which scraps of information were important, and which ones weren’t. But I suppose each field of study has its own perks and challenges, and since Business is generally said to be easier to study than Science, I guess I’ll be alright.

Along the Orange Road.

After the recent Bandung trip I made my mind up that instead of going overseas to ITB to further my education, I would instead settle for the cheaper, more closer-to-home alternative in Nilai. And it was because of this decision that I became the first (and, as of yet, only) person to register for a Bachelor's degree in Actuarial Finance at Manipal International University (MIU), if not in the whole of Malaysia.

A view of the MIU Nilai Campus. Photo courtesy of Facebook.

Prior to my registration I'd already known that this was a fairly new university, and was yet to produce any graduates. However, I was fairly surprised to find out that the most senior students there were still only in the third semester of their first year.

Sticking with the 'new' theme, MIU had only moved to its vast Nilai campus on Monday, 21st of January. Up until then the university had called Kelana Jaya its home, albeit a temporary one as the building it was using was shared with some sort of training center that belonged to Malaysia Airlines (MAS).

On the day of the big move (which coincided with my second day of orientation) I arrived before pretty much all my other orientation-mates as I'd left home early to avoid the traffic jams of the Monday rush hour. I took the time to walk around and check out the spanking-new campus, or at least as much of it as I could.

The university was apparently supposed to cover a massive 136 acres upon its completion, and as only one wing of the main building - and even then, only three of its five floors - were available to be used, it was safe to say that in terms of construction, it had a long way to go. Still, at least it was an improvement from my last visit - I had been denied entry to the site only two or three weeks before as it was still under construction at the time.

So anyway, orientation went fine. The seniors were warm and friendly, and intelligent to boot. (They had to be, most of them were either engineering or biotechnology students.) The orientation committee members were all part of the MIU Student Representative Council (SRC), and it was rather humbling to discover that their president was a fresh SPM graduate from an MRSM in Johor - when I was a fresh SPM graduate at this time last year, I spent my days kicking my heels and generally lazing about at home. 

A fellow orientation-mate, a Business Administration student from Zambia, described MIU as a "project". I realized she was right. And now, I too was part of this project.

I'd been here before. The parallels with my Rembau experience were uncanny. But unlike Rembau, we're all adults here. There would be no youthful rebelliousness and insolence to get in the way of progress. No naive decisions from novice leaders. No bad apples to spoil the others in the sack. Here was a project that could actually turn out good - great, even. It could be everything I had dreamed Rembau would be, and more.

The motto of my beloved Valedictorians is that 'Pioneers Create History'. And create it we shall.

Madness.

Recently I was weighing up a couple of options for my degree studies. One of those options was the Bandung Institute of Technology (ITB). 

Therefore, it was decided that I go there (with my mother and sister) and see the place myself before I made any decisions.

In any case, I'd already more or less made my mind up about going to MIU in Nilai before the trip, but as we'd already booked the tickets, we might as well go anyway.

And, of course, with Bandung apparently being the shopping center of the Indonesian island of Java (Bandung is also known as Paris Van Java), we might as well get ourselves a few things while we're there.

*****

Bandara is the Indonesian word for airport, and is short for bandar udara (which literally means 'air town'). It was at Bandung's bandara, the Husein Sastranegara International Airport where our plane touched down on the first Friday morning of 2013.

We then took a taxi from the bandara to our hotel in a place called Sukajadi. It was during this first ride through the streets of Bandung that I decided once and for all that there was no way I could live in this place, let alone study here.

The taxi took us through a labyrinth of narrow, crowded streets (amazingly, some street vendors managed to find enough space to set up shop and sell their wares). There were always people passing through, and sometimes there'd be another vehicle coming from the opposite direction. It's still beyond me how on earth we managed to get out of there with barely any amount of fuss.

Just as I started to wonder if all the streets in Bandung were like this, we soon came out onto larger, more proper roads.

The traffic was shocking - it seemed as if the only rule on the Bandung roads was to not hit anything. There were motorcycles making sudden U-turns in the middle of the road, cars cutting into lanes without so much as a turn signal, pedestrians taking their time crossing the road like it was nobody's business - I could go mad if I were forced to drive my way through all this every single day.

But wait, that wasn't all. Oh no, dear readers, there's more.

After we'd checked in at our hotel (in front of which was a typically bustling beehive of traffic) we decided we'd get straight to shopping - Bandung had quite a number of well-known shopping districts. So we rented a car, as well as a driver, to drive us around.

The hotel's parking lot was ridiculously small. Indeed, it was just about the size of a typical house's front yard. (That's what it probably used to be, too, as old and historical buildings in Bandung aren't demolished or taken down, just re-used. Many of the shops we went to afterwards used to be somebody's home back in the day.) And with all the traffic on the road in front of it, I couldn't imagine how our driver could move the car in reverse out onto the road.

As it turns out, in Bandung they have a rather interesting system where at every shop, restaurant and basically just about  anywhere you can park your car, there'll be a few guys there who'll stand by and guide you (by shouting orders, naturally) into or out of your parking spot. Their other job would also be to hold off incoming traffic (especially on those busy roads) as you parked, and as you later attempt to get out of your parking spot. And as you leave the place, you roll down the car window and slip them some cash as their tip. Since I don't know what these guys are actually called, I'll just refer to them as parking attendants.

Some parking attendants wear uniforms, while some don't. That kinda makes you wonder if the ones who don't wear uniforms were actually hired by the people in charge of the places where they did their thing, or were just doing it for a quick buck. In any case, I found the parking attendants, official or otherwise to be absolutely crucial in a place like this. Or else the traffic would be even madder than it was in its current state.

Another interesting aspect of the Bandung roads involves some regular-looking guys standing in the middle of densely-packed crossroads directing the traffic. Or in other words, amateur traffic cops. Just like the parking attendants, these good Samaritans helped to keep the traffic in check. Then again, they might just be real traffic cops who couldn't be bothered to put on their uniforms, but what the heck.

Also, I should mention that at times there'd be people walking from car to car (usually during traffic jams or at red lights) selling things or begging for money. At one red light, there was even a monkey doing tricks on the side of the road, and after it was done its owner would go around asking for donations. I guess that's what happens when there are too many people and not enough jobs.

So anyway, the three of us went shopping. I found two things I'd heard about Bandung to be true: that branded items were cheaper here than in Malaysia, and that there were a lot of fine-looking women. I'd rather not elaborate on the latter, of course. As for the former, we took full advantage - my sister and I bought more than a few items of clothing for ourselves. My mother, however, was rather more interested in the local delicacies. We later went home with a cardboard box full of brownies as our carry-on luggage on our return flight to Malaysia.

Also, before the shopping began, we asked our driver to take us to ITB, which was the reason why we'd even bought the tickets to Bandung in the first place. However, all the madness that I'd seen in those first two hours after we'd arrived at the bandara had been enough to throw me off studying here - for good. In the end, we only passed by the front gate. But I guess that was enough for me. I don't know how much I'd be kicking myself had I gone all the way to Bandung and not seen ITB.

After a whole day of shopping on Friday (with a delicious lunch of local food, a dinner of Indonesian KFC and massages for my mom and sis in between) and half a day on Saturday, we went back to the bandara and got on our flight home. Our two-day vacation in Bandung was over.

Despite the many similarities between life in Malaysia and in Bandung, it was the numerous differences that made me realize that there really is no place like home. Give me Kuala Lumpur any day, there's no way I'm going back to that mess of vehicles, cigarette smoke and car-to-car street salesmen.

To Manipal it is. Wish me luck.