The Two Talks.

I wanted to write a good deal on my trip to Saudi Arabia to perform umrah several weeks ago, I really did. I had envisioned myself writing two or three posts on the matter; such was the volume of words in my head that were just begging to be typed out. After all, the ten-day experience was the longest time I'd ever been on foreign soil, if you'll exclude my two months in America after I was born, of course.

But then some things turned up and I had to put off my writing about the trip. Information tends to gradually detach itself from your memory after a while, and it was no different here. As time passed and still nothing got written down, the numerous details that I'd planned on reproducing here got lost in the recesses of my mind.

However, I do still intend on writing at least something. Eventually. It's just after eleven at night as I'm writing this, and I don't intend on forcing my mind to cough up details of Saudi Arabia right about now. I've decided that I'll write it out slowly, bit by bit, and post it once I'm done. Yes, that sounds like a reasonable plan. I am midway through my month-and-a-half-long semester break after all, and currently at home in Ampang rather than in Nilai this whole week.

One thing I would like to write about at the moment, though, is my first visit to Rembau this year a couple of days ago. Note that I used the word 'first' because I expect to be going there again at several other junctures this year, and most definitely at least one more time this month.

Anyway, there were three other guys with me this time around (their names, in the context of this post, don't matter, and it's not like I normally use names on this blog anyway). The purpose of this trip, as far as I knew prior to that day, was to give a talk to the current Form 5 students (i.e. students in their senior year, for those of you unfamiliar with the Malaysian education system) to "share our experiences".

I'd been wondering just which part of my unconventional journey through tertiary education I would be talking about when I was told by the guys who'd come along with me that it was actually supposed to be some sort of motivational talk to get the kids fired up for The Big Exam in November - they'd even prepared a slideshow for the occasion.

Ignoring the fact that it was still only January and that November was ten months away and that any motivation we'd manage to build up would very likely mostly dissipate by the end of the week, I figured I'd just go along with it and give it my best shot.

Before we could talk to the Fivers, though, we were asked to speak to the Form One students (freshmen) first. They'd only been in the school for one week and, according to the teacher who'd asked us to speak to them in the first place, they weren't exactly having the time of their lives there. One kid had even left the same day he came.

The talk was, of course, impromptu, but I think it went well. The four of us talked about why being in an SBP (fully-residential school) was such a great opportunity for them, and why it would be a shame if any of them were to turn it down. I didn't do much talking myself, mostly because I really had no idea what to say and the other guys were already doing pretty well talking about their own SBP experiences, but when I was given the microphone, pretty much all I could talk about was how much I enjoyed playing football during my two years in Rembau.

After that was over, it was time to move on to the main event. We went to the school surau for the talk, where we found our audience already waiting for us. Not an ideal situation, personally speaking, as I usually prefer to get anywhere early so as to not keep others waiting.

So then the talk began and I was first up. The topic I'd been given was something about the competitiveness of the SPM scene, and how more and more people were getting straight A's every year. Sounded simple enough, as all I had to do was tell the kids that they weren't as smart as they thought they were and that there were, in fact, plenty of others out there who were better than them. Or something like that.

I wasn't provided with feedback on my slot afterwards, so I don't know for sure how well I spoke, or to which extent my message got across. What I do know is that if someone had recorded my speech, and I were to watch that recording, I would have hardly recognized myself. I was enthusiastic, I was animated, and I got the crowd going on several occasions. Quite a far cry from my usual monotonous, expressionless, deadpan demeanour.

The two guys who spoke after me (the third was the emcee) were a bit more reserved during their parts of the presentation, as they focused more on substance rather than style. Their approach was more in line with how everyone expected them to talk, rather than my blow-expectations-out-of-the-water effort, and I suppose more fitting with their respective topics.

Hopefully, our little talks with the two batches of students that day were fruitful, especially from their perspective. The results, though, won't be able to be clearly observed until later in the future.

From my own perspective, however, I do believe that I was positively affected by the whole affair. My unexpected performance in the school surau that day has led me to realize that, yes, I am capable of pulling such a thing off. I'd always imagined myself as a charismatic, occasionally funny speaker only for things to ultimately not quite turn out that way, but this time they really did. Sure, I could have done better content-wise, but other than that it was great.

And there I was, thinking that I knew myself. Turns out that you find out new things about yourself all the time, and I certainly did on this occasion. Here's hoping than I can put my newfound speaking capabilities to good use in the future.

The Classmate.

Many a time have I come across an abandoned blog: it may have contained a good number of posts from the past before its owner abruptly stopped posting in it for one reason or another; or it may have contained only a few posts, suggesting that the blog was nothing more than a mere flight of fancy for its author.

I, for one, intend to keep this blog alive by posting at least one entry every month. I don't know how many people actually read this blog, and I thank you if you do, but writing here is in fact more towards my own benefit rather than that of others. This arrangement ensures that I write something, anything, at least once a month so that my writing skills don't gradually fade to black.

Now, having said that, you may notice that I posted exactly zero posts in the month of December. There are reasons for that, and the short version is that I was a bit busy.

"I was a bit busy" is, of course, an understatement, but "a bit" is shorter than "terribly", "horrendously" and other words that would have described my situation during the month more accurately.

During the first three weeks of December, I was struggling to finish my second semester at Manipal. Unlike the previous semester, most of the work was done in the closing weeks instead of being evenly spread throughout. My solitary classmate and I were practically swamped with tests, assignments and replacement classes during this semester's final two or three weeks alone after relatively kicking our heels since day one. Indeed, some of the assignments were completed so late that they were handed in during final exams week.

Never before had I come across such a hectic end to a semester, which wasn't helped by the fact that my classmate, and only companion to share in this particular adversity, wasn't exactly a dream partner whom I could trust to perform excellently during groupwork, or at least do a decent enough job with it. Maybe I just expect too much from her, I don't know.

We had a kind of heart-to-heart session one afternoon, after she missed a crucial day of class due to some personal problems. I guess we kind of understand each other a little better now, and I at least get why she is who she is as a student. That doesn't mean that she has to stay that way, however.

The good news is that we still have two more years together, and there's plenty of time for both of us to improve. The bad news, though, is that it's only going to get tougher from here on out, so that improvement has to increase at an exponential rate.

Anyhow, we both somehow managed to complete all our tests and assignments on time. We then grappled with our six final exam papers, which were, to make another understatement, a bit difficult. Once again, we made it through, although the two of us carried different emotions right after the end of the final paper: I was happy that our ordeal was finally over whereas she was deflated - maybe she felt that she hadn't done all that well, I suppose. However, being the little ray of sunshine that I am (a statement which may seem odd to some people who know me, I know), I told her to lighten up as what's been done has been done, and there was nothing we could do about it anyway.

Later that day, we went along with a bunch of other students from the university on a trip to an Indian orphanage in Rembau. We'd both been there before, albeit on separate occasions. During my first visit there, I had gone in a baju melayu. That didn't stop some of the kids there from trying to communicate with me in Tamil, however. It was probably the first instance in my life where someone had mistaken me for an Indian.

Some of us were given so-called mentees for a one-hour mentoring session, and mine was a 17-year-old boy. That was just as well, as I'd have no idea what to do if my mentee had been a much younger kid. I'm not really the type that could host one of those kids' shows on television.

As I talked with the boy, I discovered that he was a true gem. He had been adopted years ago by a pair of New Zealanders, both of whom were engineers and travelled the world a lot. They had once sent him to some sort of programming course in their home country for about three months, and now he could hack into computer systems and stuff like that. He harbored dreams of becoming a biomedical engineer; I didn't even know what that was. What I did know was that this kid was exceedingly intelligent and had vast potential. I even found myself slightly intimidated by this realization.

Not knowing how to handle his overwhelming passion of engineering, a subject which I generally have next to no interest in, I called a university-mate, who was an engineering student and happened to be passing by, to come help me out and talk about the subject with him. Needless to say, I was little more than a spectator after that. The two of them even exchanged email addresses and other contact details after that, so the mentorship of the boy had effectively been transferred. 

On the way back to Nilai after all that was over, I briefly sat next to my classmate on the bus (I say briefly because the person sitting next to me kept changing every now and then). She was in a much brighter mood than she had been in earlier that day, and told me that she'd found it difficult to leave the kids and the orphanage behind. I felt a bit smug upon hearing this, as she'd initially not wanted to go and had only gone because her best friend had asked her to. I had helped to secure her seat on the bus.

Anyway, our third semester starts in February, which means that I have the whole month of January off. I'd asked my classmate to teach me Tamil during that time - she'd actually agreed to do it at first after I told her that I'd buy her lunch after every class as payment. This arrangement would be good for the both of us, as I'd be learning a new language and she'd be working on her presentation skills, which I must say are in dire need of an upgrade. She'd told me that she would be spending her time getting bored to death at home anyway, so why not, I figured. However, some stuff turned up with her family and she won't really be free this month after all, so the plan had to be cancelled. Guess I won't be seeing her until February, then.

The start of my third semester will mark the beginning of my second year at Manipal. I hope to make it a good one, even better than my first.

Oh, I haven't talked about what I did in the second half of December yet. Well, I went for umrah, which will be detailed in another post (or two). Until then, this is me signing off. Happy belated new year, people.