In response to Joanna Lee's discussion on why the former Miss Singapore is still making headlines...(ST Oct 6)

I believe the interest is also sparked by the fact that Ms Low appears to exemplify the stereotype of what most laypersons hold toward beauty queens: attractive but empty-headed bimbos. She appears to be the epitome of this stereotype and her example verifies or confirms our popular conception. People have an inherent psychological need to feel accurate about these things and hence she became the topic of focus. It's still amazing to me how she managed to clinch the crown and ascend the throne considering the way she presented herself in interviews. Because I didn't watch the pageant, it made me curious about the caliber of other contestants. Anyway, as the scoop on her enlarged and made its way to the masses, her image declined. In some way perhaps, the public began to feel vindicated. Her rise to fame promptly degenerated into a spiral downhill, which in itself composed a very dramatic and riveting story that provided bountiful entertainment. Though the underlying reasons for the overwhelming attention were disparate, just a while back news about the former Ms California being "deposed" of her title created identical sensations in the US. News about beauty queens rising and falling make good subjects to expand on in popular media. As the drama unfolded (and continues to I suppose; seems like the saga might prolong given Ms Low's penchant for the limelight), my initial anger as a Singaporean woman being misrepresented by Ms Low's lackluster and embarrassing presentation has subsided. Truthfully, as much as many of us (including myself) enjoy dissing her, there are people in Singapore, who speak like her, act like her, maybe have some form of psychological dysfunction, and lack insight about these. It is just unfortunate that she became the target because of her high profile that is magnified in a small country where news comprises mainly economic reports, propaganda, and banal news about petty theft and outrage of modesty. Undoubtedly, the "Ris Low" epic not only constitutes an unraveling of a dark past pertaining to a Singaporean teenager living among us, but also a reflection of the Singaporean mass media and citizen journalism, which is thriving in Singapore.

What a fine way to start the day...
(just ramblings)

I felt vulnerable today. A vulnerability that contained uncertainty and feelings of self-doubt overwhelmed my ego. And perhaps the need, as Freud would gladly allude to, to get this off my chest motivated me in taking this initial step to log on to blogger. I don't feel comfortable and secure where I am and about the decisions I've made. Wobbly is the word, I guess. Again the same old familiar worry about the next five years boiling into my consciousness and I'm asking myself whether I should or should not rather than whether I want or do not want. And I'm keeping all these things ambiguous in my writing here cos' I don't want to be driving people nuts with "there she goes again..."

The debate fueling the anxiety right now is going into something challenging vs. going into something safe (and safe meaning something I feel totally confident and comfortable about). Well, the latter option seems to be a lost cause right now because of the amount of psychological investment lavished on the prospect of the former option and efforts into fulfilling it. It seems to me at my current state of mind that the defensive pessimist in me would prefer a very prevention-focused orientation in which I do something safe, something that I know I can do, something that I'm know I can do well in. Yet the challenge that derives from the other is intellectually stimulating yet pressurizing and anxiety-provoking (at least at the present moment). To make it more concrete, I'm just not sure whether I'm smart and creative enough. There you go...I said it. I guess I'm not afraid of the potential failure; what's more fearful to me is the knowing that I've actually failed. A blow to my esteem or ego (whatever).

Now I guess I am coping...coping with all these mixed feelings and actions within my means so to speak. I'm just treading water as hard as I can and trying to stay afloat until December comes. Then things will be out of my locus of control and a sense of relief would ensue. Then God could take over (though I know God should already be in control right now...I am cognizant of that, but perhaps not feeling it as much as I would like to).

3 Things About FAITH

It's been a while since I blogged, but reading My Daily Bread today really illuminated the meaning of faith and uncovered some of the "myths" people, including myself, tend to have about faith. I realized how my long struggle with the belief that I needed "more and more" of it was unnecessary, and that I've been looking at the world through human eyes (my own eyes) and reckoning that things can only go according to the rules of the world. These 3 simple but fundamental truths about faith can often be sidelined in the constant rhetoric that "You just need to have faith".

1. It doesn't matter how much faith you have.

Here is something where black or white, all or nothing, extreme-thinking is advantageous (otherwise most things should be perceived in shades of grey). Here's an excerpt from Luke 17 as evidence:

⁶He replied, "If you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mulberry tree, 'Be uprooted and planted in the sea,' and it will obey you.

In His reply to the disciples who asked Him to increase their faith, Jesus made it clear that quantity of faith is irrelevant. Sometimes we attribute unanswered prayers to insufficient faith, but fail to understand that the effectiveness of our prayers don't hinge on the quantity of our faith but rather the presence of it (i.e., whether we even have faith).

2. Don't limit God's intervention to the ways of the world.

Haha a common error that I tend to commit, by forgetting that God's power is far more superior than the laws of nature in this universe--the laws of science, logic and rationality theorized by men to explain the operations of the world. I hate to admit this but it's even more powerful than psychology (which I totally adhere to as part of my knowledge quest in life). the centurion that Luke spoke about in chapter 7 makes an excellent exemplar for us to model for even Jesus commended him as a man of "great faith":

⁹When Jesus heard this, he was amazed at him, and turning to the crowd following him, he said, "I tell you, I have not found such great faith even in Israel."

The centurion, a man of great military status and riches in the Roman army, did not restrict Jesus' ability to heal his servant to the workings of the world. He knew that whether Jesus was physically by his servant's side did not affect Jesus' ability to heal. Often, we think that some preconditions must be present for certain miracles (or rather possibilities) to occur. For instance, I keep thinking that for me to get into a PhD program I NEED to have a publication and hence I keep praying for one (well, this is an example, not that I have been doing so extensively). But God can choose to reveal His strength through my weaknesses by enabling me to get into a program even it is difficult in the eyes of men so that I realize that it's by His might and not my own effort. Don't limit your faith in God to how things of the world function.

3. Have faith that trusts God to do His work in His way.

I like this one a lot. As mentioned in My Daily Bread, "unanswered prayers" are sometimes not unanswered; in some cases, God has overruled our wishes in a loving manner. He knows that what we asked for simply may not be beneficial or the best for us. Perhaps the timing is inappropriate or He has a far greater purpose that surpasses what we hope for. We cannot see things the way He does, and feel neglected, hopeless, and helpless when we don't see any "response" to our prayers. Jesus' prayer on the Mount of Olives offers some comfort in our distress when we feel that our prayers are unanswered (Luke 22):

⁴²"Father, if you are willing, take this cup from me; yet not my will, but yours be done."

Well, it can be argued that Jesus had an idea of what was happening to Him and that it was for a greater good He was aware of. In many life situations, we are oblivious to what's to come and we don't even know whether the eventual outcome will be benign or harmful. Whatever the case, having a faith that considers the "invisible" (not seeing but yet believing) would definitely help us to step out of hopelessness and helplessness although I must emphasize that Christianity ("religion") is not a feel good thing. Taste and see then you'll realize that God gives us more than we can ever imagine.

Unanswered prayers are answered still

As part of God's great master plan;

They help to carry out His will

To demonstrate God's love for man--D. De Haan

Back to New York

I am now at Gate B11 in Toronto’s Pearson Airport, feeling robbed of my sense of control. My plan to purchase Tim Horton’s donuts has been wrecked by the US Immigrations Office. A mere glass wall segregates me from that one-time opportunity to experience a taste of heaven on earth (I love donuts!!!). Darn, an out-of-body déjà vu experience that pricks deep into my chest! Last year, I had similar plans to try out Krispe Crème at the airport in Hong Kong before I boarded the plane back to Singapore. I never found the outlet (though I had info from a friend that there was a branch at the airport). This time, my grand plan to buy a whole box of Tim Horton’s donuts home is ruined because the counter is located within the domestic (i.e., Canadian) flights area at Terminal 3 (and I made a prior check to make sure that it is within the terminal I’ll be in)! Oh well…there goes my plan to try the Boston Cream and new Blueberry flavor donuts!

A sense of ambivalence is flooding my mind: relief because the conference is finally over and normality will resume; dread because I simply don’t look forward to the work ahead of me.

This trip has been a great one. Bonding with friends and eating good food (lotsa bubble tea, long-anticipated fresh sashimi, Teppanyaki and Indian food!!!) were the highlights I guess. Seeing the Dead Sea scrolls at the Royal Ontario Museum (and taking weird, quirky pictures with dinosaur bones) and going up CN Tower were secondary highlights.

The most ridiculous and “please-get-me-out-of-here” moment was being stuck in a tiny American Airlines plane lying on the tarmac for a whole 2.5 hours because of a thunderstorm and suffering anxiety from waiting for my unlocked hand luggage that contained my lab-top at the luggage belt (Pearson Airport policy does not allow their ground staff to remove cargo when there is lightning striking—even though it was sunny).

The second most outrageous event of this trip (a close contender of the first one) was the awful banquet food that we paid $30 for at a restaurant near Chinatown! The suan la tang literally comprised hot sauce and water, and the shrimp made me nauseous.

The most memorable thing: going clubbing with Stanley Sue!

What I loved about Canada: beautiful architecture, good food, and cleanliness (relative to US cos’ people from Ottawa were amused when I said Toronto was clean).

The best thing of this trip: incessant laughter with friends and maybe the seminar on “How do dogs think?” by Steve Coren from UBC. Watch out, Chewie! I’m gonna read your mind.

Okay, going to get something to bite before I board the plane. Toodles….!

Rejections, rejections, rejections...

How do you bounce back from rejection after rejection? (If you are looking forward to a great answer, I have none; if you are hoping to find out where to seek the answer, perhaps I may have some direction)

Number of PhD applications rejected:

15 (2008) + 2 (2009)

Number of times my manuscript has been rejected:

2 by two journals

Number of times people rejected participating in my study at the supermarket:

countless...

Rejections are part and parcel of life. This is something I probably learnt of recently. It is definitely not something that I was used to. But now it seems to be "a common home-cooked meal" (jia chang bian fan) to me. Not garnering some kind of sympathy here, just trying to share my newfound realization that things do not always seem so rosy. It is especially hard when everything has been going smoothly in your life and when you are confronted by a rejection, it is a huge one.

Certainly I have faced rejections before. My first one probably in secondary school when I felt socially rejected and lonely. But I looked ahead and somehow I bounced back. I guess I adapted. I was able to navigate the interpersonal world without having to deal with tricky BFF relationships and cliquish loyalties--because I never had either. This is of my greatest regrets, especially when I view people's FB photos and "How well do you know XX" surveys. God is great. Despite this, He has placed people in my life to let me know that I would always be able to obtain support when I need it.

At this juncture, I can loudly proclaim that I'm stepping into a rejection-laden path. This is not catastrophizing, nor is this exaggeration. The career I have decided to embark on is one in which rejections are commonplace and expected. Journal manuscripts and conference abstracts are bound to be rejected, and people are bound to reject participating in my studies. The first time I conducted the supermarket study and the first time my manuscript was rejected I was really upset, but now I'm able to take it all in and not allow myself feel bad about these things. I have moved on and adapted.

Jesus dealt with the most severe forms of rejection--by the ones He came to save, by those He loved most dearly, by His own people in His hometown. The rejections we face are incomparable to the persecution He suffered and the pain that resulted. Perhaps it helps to reflect on this in our times of rejection and find peace in the fact that God will never reject us--not our prayers, our cries, our weaknesses, etc. He accepts us entirely, even if we are the most incorrigible of all sinners.

Now when I face rejections I stop dwelling on the negative emotions that arise; instead, I think of how I can work on reducing my rejection rates. Not sure if that's the best solution. But it definitely helps!

Enter into the Garden of Gethsemane

There are points in our lives where we feel alone. We are in a place where no one else can come with us. It could be sickness; it could be an exam; it could be anything that we need to confront on our own. Our families and friends cannot suffer the illness for us, nor can they take the test on our behalf. The Lord puts us through trials so that WE can be molded and refined; we need to brave the challenges in order to be changed.

In those moments, we don't have to act heroic. We don't need to, in Singaporean terms, geh kiang. Easier said than done. That's what I always do: try so hard on my own, struggle on my own and eventually wallow in self-pity when things don't turn out the way I like them to be. We don't have to carry the burden, the yolk, on our own. You see, when Jesus entered into the garden of Gethsemane, he started off by praying this "My Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me" He fell with his face to the ground and faced God in His frail humanity, in honesty and in sorrow. He acknowledged His human nature. Likewise, we can enter into that same place and cry out to God, be broken before Him and admit that vulnerability you possess.

But note what the Lord said thereafter. He continued by praying this "Yet not as I will but as You will. He allowed God to override His own humanly desire. Is it resignation? Nope, it is an act of submission and obedience to the One who is all-knowing and almighty, the One who knows what's best for us when we don't most of the time. What does it mean to surrender to the Lord then? This is something that we always tell ourselves and tell the ones we love. But what does it entail specifically. First and foremost, what is within our ability is to stop struggling. Stop trying too hard. Stop bashing through the jungle. Be still, talk to God and praise Him. Go into the presence of God. Go into the garden of Gethsemane to meet Him.

This was a message that really touched me on Sunday when I heard the pastor preach the Word of God. I have been struggling and floundering and trying to keep afloat on my own, doing all it takes in my own wisdom to achieve the success I want. It's tiring and when things don't go smoothly, it is easy to beat yourself and find reasons to blame yourself. You start questioning why you can't do this. We are not invincible and rejoice in that because that keeps us plugged into God's resources; we realize that we need to stay close to God to survive. That's a true blessing that often goes unnoticed.

Here is a link to a song that we sang at service this Sunday. Check this out if you want to know what it means to surrender!

Marc James' Surrender

Commonality in Diversity

(extension of previous post)

I was watching the Tyra Banks Show on bleaching skin (perhaps it was shown today because of MJ's recent demise), and found the content very relevant to my previous blog post. Tyra was interviewing a group of African American women. One of them had really dark skin, which she dubbed "slave-black", and another 2 had skin that resembled that of caucasian women. They were at opposite ends of the spectrum. The dark-skinned lady was lamenting how she felt disadvantaged compared to the Black women with relatively whiter skin. The other 2 were relating past accounts of being ridiculed by their African American peers, and being checked as "White" by a police officer when booked for speeding. These ladies began to dispute about whose plight was more unfavorable, and finally Tyra tried to round up the conflict by getting them to think about their commonalities.

Apparently, some women in a bid to lighten their skin use bleach (those used for clothes!) on their faces and bodies. Others not only bleach their own skin, but also do it for their own children. Other than bleaching, some had contempt for their own hair texture; they found it of "lower class". Tyra also had her producer interview some young Black girls on TV and they all had something in common--a dislike for the typical coarse, fizzy Afro hair. It was so saddening hearing kids talked about being made fun of because of their hair. There was this one girl who said she thought people liked her better when she wears her Hannah Montana wig.

Though I'm not African American and will never be able to understand how they feel, I just felt so sad watching the program. There were obviously larger themes of stereotypes and stigma involved. Whether its actual or perceived, stigma has seeped into how people view themselves and choose to dissociate with their own heritage. Many are banking on Barack Obama's presidency to change such perceptions. Psychologists are trying to understand how his presidency has changed racial attitudes. The picture seems hopeful.

Commonality in Diversity

It's been a long while since I updated this blog on a regular basis. The motivation to pick it up and start writing again after such a hiatus was truly derived from friends that recently told me that they felt encouraged reading some of my entries. I never really expected that. Firstly, because I haven't written anything in a while, and secondly perhaps because I never really believed that people would read such stuff and be touched, be inspired, or acquire new insights. Upon reflection, I guess the main reason why I blog is because some things that I ponder about, for example a message or a learning lesson I draw from observing the world, sound pretty good in my head ;) Besides, an idea will always remain an idea if it remains in the mind. If it were a bad idea then remaining in the mind or eradicating it altogether wouldn't be a bad thing. But if it were a good one then it ought to be shared on a platform so that people can potentially translate it into an action or even a movement! Whiffs of idealism brewing...:D

Back to the subject of "commonality in diversity". It was on the shuttle ride back to my apartment in the Bronx that this catchphrase bobbed into my mind. I can only attribute this to the reflections of home (i.e., Singapore) I had earlier on, and the realization that I've slowly begun to become accustomed to life in NYC. Scanning around the subway station and studying how people scoot home during the rush-hour made me feel so embedded in the context and that I was a part of that social and cultural environment. This sounds kinda vague; I can't really put it into words. The bottom line is I've gotten used to life here. Everything that was foreign to me a while back had become a familiar sight: the subway scene at peak hours, the sunlight at 7 o'clock, the noisy streets of Manhattan, etc. The "barriers" that once made me feel separated from the crowd--the different skin colors and hair colors, the American accent, etc., which were all so surreal to me at the beginning (as though I had stumbled into a hollywood set)--have waned away.

The driver of the shuttle made a comment about the remarkably smooth ride to the Medical Center (the stop before he takes passengers back to the Bronx from campus). The traffic condition was absolutely fantastic. Then he prattled on about earlier trips when traffic was horrible and cars congested the roads, and talked about how one could avert the traffic buildup on Riverside Drive by taking the Broadway rout and how it was sometimes a better option despite the number of traffic lights found along Broadway. I immediately thought how "Un-different" that was from the mindset of a Singaporean driver! I began to see how much commonality there is amidst that diversity we all talk about in the world.

We often notice how different we are from each other, but fail to recognize how similar in actual fact we are to one another. Whether in Singapore or NYC, there are commuters who likewise dash into trains without allowing passengers to alight first, and there are those who refuse to move into the carriages when the trains are full. Whether in Singapore or NYC, we get impatient when we're caught in traffic jams and upset when we miss the bus. In psychology experiments, we see the same social phenomena happening in the US and many times the same results are replicated in other countries--in China, in Singapore, in Europe, all over the world. Sure, you may see differences in the way people from different cultures behave from time to time, but I believe that we are actually a lot more similar than dissimilar.

This makes me think back about the times when I was either in a class, an ECA or a youth group. There were always those cliques that started to form as so-called like-minded people clustered together to form their own little community. There is nothing wrong in that. It happens, it's natural and it's called group dynamics. Different groups of people may uphold different values, have different likes and dislikes, and have different dress sense. When I recall these instances, however, I think of how ideal it would have been for the various cliques to have focused on the commonalities they all shared instead of the things that set them apart. In social psychological terms, it would have been ideal if different groups were able to engage in perspective-taking and formulation of a shared goal.

There is so much talk about diversity right now in this day and age. It is being celebrated, and it took humanity a long time to reach this stage where we respect each other's differences. But above all, we should also remember what binds us together and the commonalities that we share. We all like peace and we all feel grouchy when we don't get enough sleep!

If Christians could remember how they share the same God and not how different they are in their views and beliefs...that would be ideal...:)

Unconditional Love Displayed Conditionally

It's nicely captured in that title, I guess. Yep, that's how it is with my pup. He's a cutesy, girley, Brenheim (meaning white and brown coat), King Charles Cavalier Spaniel. His name is Chewie, and I think from the likes of it, the name is perfectly apt in describing him--chewing is his favorite pastime now and I hope not forever. He's 4 pounds now and as tiny as a boot. Whenever he sits still in his favorite toy dog position, he looks like a stuffed animal.

Yesterday, as per everyday, I was awakened by his squeaky yelps and moans around 8am (he is definitely the morning lark and not the late-night owl). In my fuzziness, I discovered a "lovely" little mess the boy had made. Because an abruptly awakened person is seldom a happy one, I lost my cool though it was largely watered down cos' at the back of mind I was aware he was still a puppy who wasn't the best at holding his poop and pee. Nonetheless, I was grouchier than Oscar and his Grouchketeers.

So what exactly was the damage? There was poop on my bathroom mat, which was one of his favorite lying spots, and to my horror, I found the same beige mat that I adored to be gnawed and frayed at the corners with stray threads littered beside it. I was mad!! I gave Mr Chewie several spanks on his butt and topped them with a furious scolding. Clearly afraid and guilt-ridden, the young mister hurried back to his crate and lay on his towel with full knowledge that he had done something wrong.

Unconditional love with a conditional display. It's difficult not to love this pup especially when he's cute and affectionate: he seizes every chance to scramble into your lap when you sit on the carpet; he loves to lick your toe (though most of the time he bites with his new set of milk teeth!); and he never fails to amuse whenever he straightens his neck upon hearing the doorbell in the Tacobell ad on TV. It's so easy to love him unconditionally, yet at times I get so mad that extending such love becomes an exceptional feat.

On the other hand, his unconditional regard for me (despite the numerous dressing downs he gets when he sets me up on an anger trail) makes it difficult to not reciprocate that affection. However, with puppies, showing that love conditionally helps them understand their limits and boundaries; it becomes necessary to dispense external and social reinforcers when they behave, and punish, confine or deny them of their reinforcement when they go out of line. Hence, the title "Unconditional Love Displayed Conditionally".

I learn a couple of things from this conditional-appearing, unconditional love that I have for Chewie:

1. Loving something adorable is simple. But when that love object messes up, when that love object shows disdain for you, or even when that love object is simply externally unattractive, the task of loving becomes a chore. But God doesn't treat His love for us like a chore or task; he simply loves us unconditionally although we screw up sometimes, although we make a mess of our own lives, and although we show our disdain for Him. Loving us unconditionally is what He does best.

Chewie, when he was still lying in his bed with the right side up

(now he likes to flip it and lie on the other side!)

2. Chewie always flaunts his unconditional regard for me without hesitation. One could say that that's his natural instinct. Even though I shower him with conditional-appearing love, he still maintains that same regard for me. I'm not drawing parallels between my God and my Chewie (God forbid that!). What I'm saying is, despite my conditional praise and worship for God in my life (I pray when I need help, and sing His praises when I feel like it), God never despises that little I give Him. He always accepts it and He loves me unconditionally nonetheless.

Chewie fast asleep on my lap (Lap-Dog!!)

3. Because of the soft spot I have for Chewie in my heart. I always find it easy to forgive him when he misses the pee pad when he aims his pee, when he bites my toe or chews my mat, or when he knows he's pooped improperly and tries to cover that up by eating his poop (this is just a conjecture but you get the picture yah). And likewise the soft spot God has for each one of us makes it such that He'll always forgive us and love us the same even when we do things that hurt Him or make Him angry.

There's Chewie sitting in his toy dog position on the bathroom mat

4. Finally, sometimes it can seem that God's love appears conditional. When we worship Him with our lives, sometimes (not always of course) things are smooth; when we refuse to demolish the idols we set up for ourselves in our lives, things happen to make us go back to God. Such conditional-seeming favor is present to mold us. Remember God's motive is always to prosper us and not to destroy us. The same unconditional love I have for Chewie exists in spite of the conditional affection I shower him with.

Chewie fast asleep in his bed with his stuffed ring toy

Life is not the same with the pup. Especially with the first few months things get way out of hand. I wake prematurely, the cleaning at home becomes doubled, the distance I have to travel just to bring him for shots (that's a whole story altogether!), and of course the extra expenses I incur, all make me regret getting him at times. But the unconditional love he gives me and the same love I reciprocate makes these thoughts vanish and dissipate. And of course, the hope that this is just a phase helps me get by each day!

It's been such a long while since I last blogged. Yep, been busy. Too busy lazying around and watching shows online and on TV. Anyway, I've decided to blog because something happened to me yesterday that necessitates some kind of cathartic release I guess. 

Just a quick update, I submitted 2 applications to 2 separate PhD programs at the end of last year. One was to a PhD program in the Social Psych department of Columbia uni, and the other was to the B-School at Columbia, the marketing division. Yesterday, I felt my flicker of hope just diminish and disappear. 

The PhD application results will be out soon, but I sense my hope dissipating by the day. These are two very difficult programs to get in and I've chosen (and I'm not too sure whether is by pure faith or sheer laziness) to place all my eggs in once basket by limiting my options to these two places. Yesterday, I learnt of news that my application is being pitted against very strong competition and realistically I know my chances are close to a mere zero.

The Lord was gracious. Just before I left the apartment yesterday, I did a quick read of the daily bread my mum gave me when she dropped by New York. It was regarding the loss of Manchester United, the football club, when a plane carrying the team crashed leaving only one surviving member who rebuilt the team and restored its former glory to what we knew Man-U to be in the 1990s and early 2000s. In the same way, when Jesus died and all hope seemed to be lost, He resurrected from the dead, sat at the right hand of God in Heaven, and became our bridge to God and eternity. Although the mesage didn't impact me much as I left the apartment, but somehow the message was instructing readers to know that in all tragedy and loss, the Lord has the capability to restore and bestow greatness in all situations. I knew no matter what I had nothing to fear.

I shan't deny that I was extremely devastated. This is no life and death matter; it's merely something that I really want. But still I've been trying to apply since 2007 and I am pretty much tired now. Although I know this round I might not get in because all odds are stacked against me, I'm going to hang on and persist because God appreciates persistence in prayer and in effort. And hopefully my faith (and my applications next year) will take me there someday. As I reflect on my life, I realize how the Lord works with me. He usually opens one door and inspires hope, then closes that door but opens another that brings another spark of hope. As this door closes, I don't know what is behind the next that opens. But it usually is something better and beyond what I can imagine. Now I just need to prod on...

My Traveling Ordeal: To Montana and back

It seems a little too late to blog about this. Nonetheless, I am going to journal this down while it is still fresh in my mind, to remind me of God's goodness in helping me endure and navigate through life's little distresses that presented during my travel to Montana and back.

21st December 2008 (Saturday):
I hopped onto the Super Shuttle to fetch me to Newark Airport, New Jersey, only to realize that both the boot straps belonging to the 300-dollar pair of UGG boots I just purchased the night before were no longer on my boots. Unstrapped and dangling from my boots as I was making the 100m dash for the shuttle (rushing late as usual), they had fallen off--one at the lobby area of my apartment building, and the other into the heap of snow at the sidewalk of Broadway where my building was. Immensely distress set in (although technically I could still put on and secure the shoes). I immediately made an SOS call for help to retrieve my boot straps. After 4 repeated phone calls that went unanswered, I decided to leave a text message. Fortunately, my phone call was responded to eventually (after a grueling 10 min wait as my shuttle drove further and further uptown), and my boot straps were found. Thank God! Thinking that the worse had happened and nothing else should go wrong after that little "setback" (well, I said that too early). I made it onto the shuttle and got to Newark in good time. The check-in queue was terribly long, but unsuspecting of any possible complications that could arise, I waited in line thinking that I was early and time was on my side. To cut the long story short, the queue barely moved after 2 hours and rumors of the flight being canceled were verified to be true. By the time I got to the counter, I was informed that my flight to Minneapolis, where my connecting flight to Montana was supposed to take off from, was canceled and the next earliest flight they could give me was on the following Tuesday, 23rd Dec. With that, my vacation period was reduced by half from a week to three days four nights (my airticket cost approx USD1400!). Resigned, I took a 2-hour-ish ride on the express bus and subway back to Manhatten, and trekked back on the icy ground to my apartment, lugging my luggage along. It was utterly distressing and awfully! The weather was freezing and the journey back was very rough (to keep the story short, I won't elaborate). Oh well, at least I wasn't stranded in the airport with nowhere to go.

23rd December, 2008 (Tuesday):
This time I was determined to fly, but it sure wasn't going to happen without a struggle. My shuttle was 15 min late. The driver dilly-dallied and by the time we got onto the highway to Jersey, we were stuck in a traffic jam. The whole journey was stressful for me. By the time I got to the airport, it was half an hour to departure time. I noticed that the queue was short at the check-in area and thought I would be able to make it, but before I could even heave a sigh of relief that I made it, I was told that they had "locked down" on all check-ins for the flight I was taking. I went hysterical!! I was in disbelief. I went to the counter to demand an explanation. They said there was nothing they could do. I hurled at the counter staff and demanded a refund if I wasn't going to be permitted to go onboard. I was intensely furious. They told me that I had to call up their office to enquire about and obtain any refund. I was livid because I had been making phone calls to the airline (which I would not explicitly mention here) for the past few days to enquire about earlier flights out to Kalispell, Montana, but I hadn't been able to get through. Adamant about making it onboard this time, I continued to create a scene. The manager subsequently made a check on the system and realized that I had made a prior check-in online and that I should be allowed to board the plane. They directed me to rush to the gate. There were other passengers queuing at counter that did not make it on the flight because they didn't. With 10 min before the plane took off, I ran to the gate with my luggage, and eventually made it. That was really close. Subsequently, I managed to fly to Minneapolis and caught my connecting flight to Kalispell. Thank God!

27 December, 2008 (Saturday):
After the nightmare I had experienced in my trip to Montana, I wasn't expecting anymore hiccups. But I guess God had other plans to stretch my limits and challenge me. A snow storm was anticipated to arrive in Kalispell after 11am on Saturday. At 8.30 am, I boarded my plane after checking in my baggage, unsuspecting of what was to come and thinking that I was going to miss the impending storm. Shortly after boarding, I was kinda sleepy and dozed off in the plane before take-off. At around 9.10 am, I was awoken by a small commotion. I openned my eyes and to my amazement the plane had not taken off! A lady in the seat across the aisle and diagonally behind me was sobbing away, moaning that she had to fly to Washington because she had a job. In the words of the 11-year-old boy sitting in the seat behind me, she appeared to be "mentally disturbed". Shortly, a ground staff from the airline came onboard and coaxed her to leave the plane with the assurance that alternative arrangements would be made for her to travel to Washington. Apparently, the plane couldn't take off because the runway was too slippery and the plane was too heavy to fly. The flight attendant requested for 8 volunteers to leave the plane--each passenger would be compensated with a $300 airline voucher. After 8 volunteers left, they did a count and requested for 7 more people to get off the plane. And then, 4 more, and eventually 1 more. After 20 minutes of tension and suspense, the plane was de-iced (they sprayed some redish-fluid and green substance all over the body of the plane), we finally took off. By then it was 9.30 am and the flight had been delayed for an hour.

When I reached St. Paul International Airport, my connecting flight to Newark had taken off. I was re-booked on a flight that was 5 hours later to Detroit, Michigan, for a connecting flight back to New Jersey. With no boarding pass issued and simply given verbal instructions to go to Gate F7 to wait for my next flight out to Detroit, I felt utterly unsettled. Thank God, I made an SOS call to New York, and was able to check-in online for seats onboard the flights I was taking. I secured my seats and made it to Detroit and finally back to Newark. I reached Newark at 11.30pm (according to the original itinery, I was supposed to meet my parents at the airport at 4.50pm!). To cut the long story short, my baggage was located to be stuck in Minneapolis. I left my details and went to the ground transport counter to call for a Super Shuttle. The shuttle came after 90 min, and by the time I reached home, it was 2 am. I was upset but relieved to have made it back safely.

28 and 29 December 2008:
Around half past 10 at night, I received a voice mail message from the baggage services instructing me to give them a call on their hotline. They informed me that my baggage would be delivered to me soon and the driver would call me when he made the delivery. I got home close to midnight, and the driver had yet to call. I made another phone call to the hotline and they said the driver would call me. Close to 2 am, the driver had not called and I gave up and went to bed. Shortly after 3 am, I was awakened by a phone call. The driver was on the line and told me that he was nearby and that he would be arriving shortly to deliver my baggage. Rustling out of bed and putting on my coat, I rushed down to receive him and finally got my luggage back. But I certainly wasn't happy from being awakened at 3 am in the morning!