We Did It, Lord!

It's been donkey years since I've last updated this blog. This flower needs some watering cos' its withering on the vine!! Fortunately, the current blog entry is upbeat and sanguine. That should do the magical trick of reviving it ;)

*****

Many of the entries in this blog describe my long and arduous journey of trying to get into the PhD program. I'm glad to say that I've finally made it, and I've received so much more than I expected. By God's grace, I've got my first paper published in a relatively good journal and have been admitted to one of the best marketing programs in the world. After three years of applications, self-doubt and feelings of dejection, I've finally made it (We did it, Lord!). I'll be starting my semester at Columbia University in New York this Fall.

*****

Although I didn't set out to do a PhD in marketing when I first set foot in the United States, things unravelled and somehow I was challenged to become an experimenter (something I never thought I could carve a livelihood out of since I've always considered myself to be a pretty well-manufactured product of the Singapore education system--conventional and uncreative). Regardless, I'm anything but divorcing myself from the field of psychology (as many would be mistaken); I'm just migrating from one branch, clinical psychology, to another, consumer psychology. An excerpt from my personal statement should serve to enlighten:

Sigmund Freud had once remarked that, “It is the mundane themes of everyday life that give us the inner workings of the mind”. Immense skepticism toward his speculative theories and fancy guesswork aside, I hold no reservations in concurring with this simple yet insightful statement. Indeed, it is the run-of-the-mill processes like forming judgments of our co-worker or neighbor, or making decisions even as trifling as deciding which dishwashing detergent to purchase, that seem to expose the intricacies of our minds to psychologists who strive to understand and predict human behavior. As Freud departed from explicating the irrational presentations of neuroses to fashioning hypotheses about the average human mind, I have resolved to retire from clinical psychology and to instead home in on the basic mechanisms underlying typical thoughts and responses. How people harness inputs of emotion and motivation to function within the boundaries of rationality is what I reckon more intriguing and thought provoking.

Moving from the world of correlational and predictable clin psych research to the volatile territory of ANOVAs and cutting-edge consumer/social psych research is definitely not going to be easy breezy for me. Nonetheless, it's going to be exciting and it's going to be fun! :)

*****

Things I'm looking forward to:

1. Finally having my own office cubicle in the business school (I don't have to work in the library or rely on their 20-page free printing quota to do my printing!);
2. Not having to explain that I'm from Teachers College which is an affiliate of Columbia University and not Columbia University (I won't feel like an impostor Columbia student anymore!);
3. Receiving a stipend after not having had a monthly salary since May 2008;
4. Having key access to the restrooms on the 5th floor (marketing program) and not having to run all the way down to the first floor when I need to go;
5. I don't need to feel like a chao RA anymore!

Yay!

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!

The UN-GLAM of staying in a cool city like New York.

New York always sounds so cool, doesn't it? When I told several friends that I'll be going to NYC for my postgrad, they seemed so envious of me. Hollywood films perpetuate the image of NYC as being one of the greatest and most exciting cities in the world--well, I guess the exception would be films that depict aliens invading the planet or something catastrophic striking the world; such things always tend to happen in Manhattan in those fictional films, don't they?! Shows like Gossip Girl, Sex & the City, etc. show the glamorous side of living in NYC. Haha but they don't include the UN-GLAM parts of it. 

Today, the UN-GLAM part of living here was glaring to me. There was a snow storm. And it wasn't nice. I can't deny that it looked beautiful; everything was covered with a blanket of wintery white. However, as my friend, Esther, astutely recognized, "It's pretty when you look at it from inside through the window, not so when you are outside!" It's really gorgeous when in the initial stages when the snow flakes fall, but it's a totally nasty experience when it inches of snow accumulate on the sidewalks and pavements and especially horrible when the ice starts to melt. Amidst the heavy snowfall today was slush all over the ground that made walking along Broadway (and many places in New York and Jersey as a matter of fact) a hazardous experience.

I found myself slipping into the self-pity mode so many times today! I was blaming myself for not wearing my Wellington boots out. I wore the other pair which was not impervious to water. When the snow started to melt, puddles formed everywhere. Worse still, the puddle surfaces were shrouded by ice so I ended up stepping into puddles several times and some were pretty deep. After a while, my boots got wet and water seeped through, soaking my feet and chilling my toes! It was a real nasty experience. Anyway, thank God I made it to Harry's Shoe Store just 10 min before it closed and bought myself a USD300 pair of UGG boots that are waterproof. I knew I had to, otherwise I won't survive Montana in the next couple of days (it's like -14 degrees celsius over there!) 

Living in a country with winter is really a hassle. Not that I'm dismissing it totally; I do like the beautiful sights and the experience of 4 seasons. However, there are downsides that people like us who are born and bred in warm and sunny (and humid) Singapore just don't see. It seems so cool being able to wear jackets, and to mix and match different layers and accessories, but it is really costly buying so many different kinds of clothing, shoes and other stuff. Plus, the time I take to change into something (and change out) takes forever! Sometimes carrying those big coats around can be rather troublesome too. I can go on and on about the inconveniences, but one thing I realized is that life in Singapore tends to be more straightforward and efficient because we don't have the complications of dramatic climatic changes. We won't get stuck at Bukit Batok because of a snow storm, nor do we need foreign labor to shovel the snow off the pavements. We don't need to expend large amounts of energy to heat our homes (although Singaporeans probably spend a lot on air-conditioning!), or experience a drop in productivity because of harsh weather.  

So do I like living in NYC?? Haha, I'm just complaining and whining for now. I still enjoy the experience and these are just culture shocks I guess. They make me miss home. Whatever it is, I'll always remember Tuesday night (this week) when I was walking outside as it just started to snow. It was a magical experience. I have seen snow before, but that night was just awesome. It was so beautiful that I couldn't help but feel this joy well inside me and it made me want to praise the Lord. I'm still thankful that He brought me here, and I'm looking forward to the great things He will do soon. He has led me from place to place, closing one door and opening another, and I just can't wait to see where the final destination of this hope He has ignited in me will be. Hopefully, I'll get to stick around for a while. I just bought close to USD600 worth of North Face gear (and that 300-dollar-boots), I think I can tahan the snow at least in NYC, not too sure about Montana. 

REJECTION: LET'S FACE IT!

Let's face it, rejection is a fact of life. And if you are still young and naive to this world, I'm sorry to tell you this truth. What matters most however, is how you choose to respond to it--with despondence or endurance. 

I got my first rejection today. Well, technically not my first cos' last I remembered earlier this year I did receive 14 Ph.D. application rejections (maybe not 14 cos' some schools didn't even bother mailing me a letter of rejection!), but today's, I guess, was the first rejection I got for a journal submission. So that's a first!

Although I am a defensive pessimist who doesn't usually hold my hopes too high just in case my ego plummets in the face of a failure, I can't deny the disappointment I felt. I mean, it's only natural to feel upset, angry, or hurt when you encounter rejection. Some would even argue it's evolutionarily adaptive cos' emotions spur us toward action--and hopefully constructive action. But thank God my co-author (my prof) was reassuring and encouraging in conveying the news. It definitely buffered me from the impact of the rejection. Now, I need to channel my energies toward picking up the pieces and getting back into shape with that paper, which I know I can.

It's amazing what rejection can do to you. It can make or break you. For some, rejection just feeds into their desire to succeed; for others, it can become a traumatic experience that paralyzes their will to pursue their interests, or a scar that can carry grievance and pain for a long time. Well of course, for another group it probably doesn't make any difference--there's always room for statistical variability in our responses to rejection yah? Whatever the case, today I chose to praise God in the face of rejection. For it is in our weakness, that God's strength is truly revealed. God has this knack of using the meek to do the most remarkable things, and using trials to mold us into greater beings. I recalled all the good things He had done, and reminded myself that I really have nothing to complain about. 

What really prompted me to blog tonight wasn't my dejection over being rejected. Rather I just felt this familiar tingling, magical feeling that God was at work today. On Monday, I felt motivated to prepare my application package, and submit it to the office way before the deadline, which is 1 Jan 09. So on Tuesday afternoon, motivated me went down to the bookstore to get envelops to put my transcript and supporting documents into. This afternoon (Wednesday), my package was dropped off at the PhD office. The supporting documents included my CV, which under the "publications" section had my journal title written there as "under review". Obviously, I can't do anything about it now (I had just received the rejection) because the CV has been submitted with my package. Well, I could email the office and tell them that my manuscript had been rejected and change its status, but that would cause too much of a hassle and irritate the staff handling the applications--not a wise move. So somehow everything worked out such that my CV still looks good, and I didn't intentionally hide the news of the rejection from them. In any case, it shouldn't hurt my prospects that much. Besides, I could always change the status to "manuscript in preparation" or something like that. I would update them when I do get through to the interviews. NONETHELESS, I can't help but feel the tingling feeling that God was at work somehow, and He still is. He has given me much more than I can ever imagine, and a wonderful testimony that can encourage and uplift others (haha, shan't reveal anything here for now). So for this and other things, I can only look to Him in awe, and praise Him for His wonderful grace and favor on me.  

Rejection? Hahahaha. Laugh at it. If you deserve to be rejected, then do something it. If you feel rejected unjustly, be it by someone you had treated with respect or someone you totally don't know (like the editor of the journal I submitted to), remember that God frowns upon injustice and He promises in the bible that the unjust will be paid their dues. And even if the whole world rejects you, which is clearly impossible cos' you won't be able to meet everyone in the entire world in your lifetime (duh!), remember that Christ loved you so much that He gave His life to pay for your sins. It's like having the favor of the King. If you have the favor of the King, why would you need the favor of His men? Anyway, pleasing God can sometimes win you the favor of men. Doesn't mean that you'll definitely be rejected by people because of your faith; I guess it's more accurate to think that we should love God and follow Him in spite of the possibility of losing favor with men. Okay, getting into too much theology. Need to stop here now.

Pray A Prayer of AUTHORITY Today.

We sang a song during the service today. It went like, "Tell the mountain to move away; tell the mountain to move away; move away, move away". I could really feel the conviction in the crowd as they were singing it. I felt so convicted myself.

It reminded me of how we need to pray prayers of authority at certain times. Whatever circumstance you are going through, be it a "mountain" or situation you feel has reached a stalemate or seemingly hopeless situation, perhaps you should take up the staff today, just as Moses did when he led the Israelites out of Egypt, and "tell that mountain to move away". Bring forth your petition to God with prayer and fasting, and at the same time, pray with authority.

Matthew 17 (NKJV)
20 So Jesus said to them, “Because of your unbelief; for assuredly, I say to you, if you have faith as a mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move; and nothing will be impossible for you. 21 However, this kind does not go out except by prayer and fasting.”

Mark 11 (NKJV)
22 So Jesus answered and said to them, “Have faith in God. 23 For assuredly, I say to you, whoever says to this mountain, ‘Be removed and be cast into the sea,’ and does not doubt in his heart, but believes that those things he says will be done, he will have whatever he says. 24 Therefore I say to you, whatever things you ask when you pray, believe that you receive them, and you will have them.

"What does a CEO, a president, and a goldfish have in common?"

This question was posed several weeks ago to the congregation at TSC by a visiting Pastor. Don't think too hard cos' this is no IQ question, neither is it some psychoanalytical question aimed at detecting some of your innermost desires and unconscious conflicts. Think abstract. Yes, they have to breathe to live, they need food to survive, yada, yada, yada. There's nothing shocking really in the answer. They all will face the ineluctable fate of death's grip over their lives.

The Pastor mentioned two points that stuck with me: 1) LIFE IS SHORT (and I'm sure all you oldies out there like myself can fully comprehend and appreciate this fact, as we start to disregard the need for candles on our cake during our special day every year, and notice the inches amassing at our waists!) 2) LIFE CAN BE WASTED. This second point struck me hard. It's bad enough that life is as fleeting as a vapor; worse still, one can look back and express regret over the lost time that can never be reclaimed.

One of my favorite songs in secondary school was this song by Joni Mitchell, "The Circle Game". I used to sing it when I was walking home along Old Holland Road, being extra careful to notice if there were people approaching me from behind (don't worry, I wasn't being hypervigilant or oversensitive about anything). I remember lowering my voice, or pretending to clear my throat, when people approached. I was pretty shy, you know. Anyway, I loved the chorus of this song:

And the seasons they go round and round,
And the painted ponies go up and down,
We're captives on the carousel of time,
We can't return we can only look behind from where we came,
And go round and round and round on the circle game.

Yep, we are captive to the eventual fate of turning to dust and ashes. This may sound moribund and bleak, but it's a truth that we need to resign to. Of course, if you're Christian (like how I am), you'll believe in an eternity that far outweighs the pleasures of life on earth. However, that doesn't mean that your stay on earth should lay to waste. As I look back on my life (I'm still fresh and in my prime, so no complaints!), I recall times when I wished time would just fly by, and other times when I wished that time would just freeze and God would allow me to revel in the state forever. Unfortunately, we're not a "Hiro Nakamura"; we don't have super powers to time travel or freeze time. Man hasn't evolved to a state where we are able to dictate which time periods to fast forward, and which to configure to a slow playback speed---in it's literal sense, that would be pretty hilarious.

Whatever it is the chilling thought that "LIFE CAN BE WASTED" spoke volumes to me that day, and it continues to do so. As I'm in the midst of my PhD applications and juggling research and coursework, I can't help but wonder where all these would eventually lead me to. It's exciting really and I'm glad for the doors the Lord had shut and opened. Yet my mind can't stop dwelling on the paradoxical fact of life: That most of us spend a huge portion of our lives striving hard just to enjoy a piece of respite amidst the labors of life, so that we can retire at 65 and pay our kids' college education, (and in America, pay off our mortgages). Perhaps then we can take our time to do everything we ever wanted...hopefully we still have that energy and zeal to do so.

Whenever I go on FB, I'm pretty consoled by the photos I see. Perhaps it's just how the yuppies of this generation are able to enjoy life and play hard a little more than the Baby Boomers. Posted photos consist of travel and food and fun and babes and sand and the sea. I guess we all need a little comfort amidst the stresses of life. But at the end of the day, how much of everyone's lives are meaningful, I wonder. In the first place, should that be some higher goal driving our lives, or are we supposed to just drink and make merry since life is short and we are bound to die anyway. Of course again, being Christian, I would take the former view.

The Perils of Living Under Someone Else's Roof!

It's been a while since I've blogged, so I thought I'd just shed the laziness and get back into business. Actually, the truth of the matter is, somehow I am now caught in a situation with too much time in my hands. This is weird because I've been super busy and my to-do list has been lengthening. But perhaps super-efficient me (as always...haha) has managed to complete everything I need to do for now. Or that's what I think... So what to do with too much time in my hands? Blog lor. 

This title came to me this morning not long after I woke up from bed. Don't worry, my landlady's not mistreating me, nor is she restricting me in any way. It's just that everyone living in my apartment shares one bathroom, and sometimes our needs arise at the same time (haha, sounds a little crude).  In the mornings I usually wake up with a full bladder and my first urge is to clear it. And this morning, there was nothing different. I wanted to pee but there was someone in the bathroom. So how? Ren(3) lor.

This little toilet crisis has happened to me several times already. I found myself having to hold my pee, and wait for whoever is inside to finish up whatever business in there. Hai, at home in Singapore I have my attached bathroom. And even if that was unavailable, we have four other bathrooms in our apartment! I miss my room :( and more so the luxury of not having to hold my pee in. It's so nice living in your own place and not having to worry about using the kitchen or lying on the couch in the living room...Can't wait to get my own place! Hopefully graduate housing with a studio apartment...

Notwithstanding, I'm still happy and consider myself blessed to be able to live where I am. At least, my heater's warm, and I don't have roommates who refuse (or pretend to not remember, or maybe genuinely forget--always give benefit of the doubt la-hor?) to wash the glasses in the sink. Speaking of heater, the weather's really getting harsh. The temperature's been dipping A LOT, to almost 0 degrees celsius! I'm starting to wear my down feather coat already. The one that makes me look like an Eskimo. Haha, the hyena fur gets into my eyes and the hood affects my peripheral vision (I really look like a duck when I try to look around before I cross the street lol), but it really keeps me warm. I'm so not looking forward to the Winter!! It's only Fall and it's so cold...I don't even think muggers would want to come out and mug people, unless they are absolutely desperate. I might need to get a pair of boots lined with fleece inside...excuse to shop heh. 

Okay, I'm losing my writer's flow. Gotta stop. Period. 

An unprecedented moment in world history...

I'm not just saying this because I live in the US of A now, but yesterday's election WAS an unprecedented event not only in the history of America, but also the world. I know how people typically stereotype Americans as egocentric and self-absorbed, but I can be certain that the collectivistic blood of the Orient still runs deep in my veins and I'm not making this statement because I've decided to trade in the five stars and one crescent for a star-spangled banner. However, the election of President-Elect Barack Obama truly marks the dawn of a new era. Though it may seem inconsequential to some of us living out of the US--you don't understand what the big hoo-ha is all about--all I can say is that America as a nation, its culture, economy, education, politics, etc. does have an astronomical impact on the rest of the world. Okay, I guess I've made my point.

Anyway, I'm not here to yak about politics, nor am I here to rejoice and celebrate Barack Obama, I mean, President-Elect, Obama's victory, although I was rooting for him throughout, and was exhilarated when he toppled the McCain campaign, and Sarah Palin (who by the way, had openly expressed her intentions to join the race for the white house in eight year's time!). I just thought I'd blog about my experiences regarding this election because I felt so privileged to be able to witness such a historical event right where it happened. Okay, that is partly true, the truth  is I really wanna blog about this even more so because I was blown away by the over the top reactions of Americans throughout the elections, and especially last night when Obama was declared the 44th president of the United States of America. I'm sure you know how wild they can get. 

The campaign fever really got into me when the two then-presidential candidates came to Columbia for their very first face-to-face dialogue. That I have blogged about. That really got me interested in this whole campaign. In the past few months, there had been so many controversies surrounding Palin (over the unjustified sacking of her former brother-in-law, and her former beauty queen, current hockey mum status) and Obama (his so-called associations with terrorists, and at the start his name sounding like Osama..haha), and it had all been so juicy and talked about over here. Professors and students would comment about presidential debates in class. There was one time, a student in class raised how Cindy McCain insinuated that people in the US Navy don't get PTSD because they are well-trained, and someone else mentioned how McCain stuck out his tongue at times when he said something wrong. On the streets, you would see booths with Obama stuff, and people wearing t-shirts in support of Obama. Then came Halloween when people even dressed up like him. And there were a few Sarah Palins too. More recently there was this dude I think from Brazil that decided to wake up in the morning and do a huge (and I mean really enormous) sand portrait of Obama on a long stretch of beach in his country. With all this happening, it was hard not to be attentive to the elections. That was accentuated when Lehman Bros fell, and both presidential candidates were putting forward their respective rescue package proposals and debates regarding the financial bailout ensued. Last week, Obama's campaign committee did something unprecedented in the history of the American elections. They bought prime time slots on major television networks and did a half-an-hour campaign ad last Wednesday. That costed them a bomb! But the ad was amazing, I felt both an emotional and an intellectual appeal coming from it. Obama is a fantastic speaker, or rather he had an amazing script-writer. Whenever he spoke, it sounded like some script taken off a Hollywood movie where one hero, leader or king makes this dramatic ra-ra speech to boost the morale of their audience. Above all, this campaign was historical because if Obama won, America would have their first African American president (well, technically not completely accurate because Obama's actually half caucasian and he has two degrees, one from Columbia and the other from Harvard, but still...); if McCain won, America would have their oldest president ever elected and first female vice-president, Sarah Palin; if Hillary won the democrat nomination for president, there could have potentially been a first female president in the history of the United States of America. So these points made this whole election so captivating.  

I had two random strangers talk to me yesterday on election day. One was this dude on the street who asked me whether I was voting and obviously I said no. And there was this other guy in the elevator that asked me the same question. Everyone was just so engrossed with elections yesterday. Throughout the day, there were people driving those campaign trucks and sounding those campaign horns (like how we used to do in the earlier days when PAP was still driving around in their lorries and SDP was still in operation...Ah, the Pay-And-Pay, So-Don't-Pay days...). Last night, major news stations zeroed in on the final race to the oval office by canceling regular TV shows and replacing them with election coverage (oh yah, even Heros was postponed on NBC because of some pre-election program telecasted on Monday night...darn!). From 6.30pm all the way till 12.30am, all that was on TV was voting statistics. CNN was doing projections and there came a point where it seemed like McCain was losing the battle and then later on he jumped back for a while. But when Obama seized majorities in the West coast, mainly Washington and California, his victory was sealed. He won 70% of voters' tickets in New York City by the way. Soon later McCain gave his defeat speech and later on Obama gave his landmark, victory speech which was really rousing to the crowd in Chicago and us tuning in on TV. Outside the window, in the streets, we could hear cars horning, people yelling and cheering when Obama was declared the winner. We peered outside the window and we saw people walking on the roads not giving a hoot about the vehicles. A friend of ours said that he was in a cab and this male person just literally walked over the taxi (like pranced over the bonnet). That was how crazy it was. It was like New Year's Day. People were packed elbow-to-elbow at Times Square, Harlem, and everywhere. People were standing on telephone booths and bus-top shelters just to catch the action at Times Square! TV stations were zooming in on people in the crowd with tearful faces, and famous people in the crowds like Jesse Jackson and Oprah. The enormity and intensity of reactions displayed was remarkable.   

This morning I was woken up by sirens. When I walked on the streets, everything felt so surreal and I felt like I was in a state of derealization. There were fire engines and police cars on the streets. Close to where I live was a car accident that had me wondering whether there were more incidents of road traffic accidents last night given the victory prances on the streets of NYC. As a raring fire engine drove by, I peered into the vehicle and caught a quick glimpse of FDNY firemen with their matter-of-fact, cool-as-a-cucumber expressions that totally contrasted the urgency and impatience depicted in the blaring siren. Perhaps all this brouhaha going on was long anticipated and expected. Apart from that, nothing seemed different. The first morning after election day seemed just like any other ordinary day. More than 20 months of campaigning had culminated in the nation's election of its first African American president. Everything will probably resume normalcy in a couple of days, maybe weeks. I wonder what vendors are going to do with their McCain paraphernalia. After the big event, life goes back to day-to-day struggling with finances and commitments. 

As I reflect on this whole event, the only thought on my mind is my hope that Obama can truly deliver what he had promised. Bush has become the scapegoat responsible for the total mess this country is in, and Obama has been accorded the mandate to clear this trash up. A huge burden weighs on his shoulder now, and he must swiftly change his gear and operate as the commander-in-chief of the nation. World leaders are looking toward him. The people of America are gazing expectantly at him. Can the man who inspired and raised so much hope throughout millions and billions of hearts in the USA create the needed and desired change in a country so diverse and stricken with social ills and poverty? Skeptics and pundits alike will now be scrutinizing his every move. With great power comes tremendous responsibility. And I guess that's why Times Square Church is organizing a day of prayer and fasting tomorrow to pray for the new president-elect and his government. And I hope Barack Obama will live each day safely as he takes the oval office in the white house (haha, there was a joke on the Internet about the white house going to be repainted if Barack wins--that's a joke, don't take it seriously). There were two dudes that were arrested for plotting to assassinate him few weeks back. Okay, I'm going to stop here. I haven't completed my paper that I need to turn in a few hours later, and I seriously need to get back to it. 

"Yes, we can!"