Heroes then and now

I have this tendency to hero-worship successful adults in my life. My 'everyday' heroes mark my life like milestones on a path. More than milestones, they are guiding lights along the way.

People whom I have hero-worshipped before:

My music teacher, of whom I could never stop talking after every music lesson, relating interesting anecdotes of all he said and did. He taught me since I was 9. Amazingly talented musician.

My Chinese teacher throughout my five years in sec school, whom I regarded as a kind of champion and defender of our Chinese culture and language, standing bravely against the fault-finding school authorities to maintain the dignity and existence of our optional Chinese classes. In Malaysia, Chinese as a subject is not mandatory and is only offered if the school has a Chinese teacher. I count myself blessed when I think of the sacrifices she has made on our behalf for this cause she believes in, from undertaking extra teaching periods, to putting up with all kinds of nonsense the school authorities may throw her way. Our Pn Yap strives to ensure that Chinese classes will always be available in our school for those who are interested in learning more about their mother tongue and culture. I admire her courage, tenacity, dedication, patience, and idealism. She and all that she stands for, are inspirations for many a student. Often, she battles alone, yet she is not alone, for the hearts of all her students go with her.

My GP teacher in JC, my favourite teacher of my favourite subject at that time. At a point when things were very dark for me, she was my encourager and adviser. She is warm, witty, sensible and down-to-earth and I felt that she cared for me. She would encourage me not to lose hope and to try to see beyond those dark days.

My legal writing instructor, a sophisticated, beautiful and well-groomed Caucasian woman. I must admit though, that I admire her more for her dress sense and poise than for any inspiration in her teaching. But surely even the most sensible people may indulge in random fits of shallowness.

The Dean of my faculty, of whom I have already raved about here under the heading 'Charmed'.

I probably would not have pulled out all my past heroes for an airing unless there was a new one to add to the list. This hero is a terrific teacher well versed in the art of Socrates. This hero has a keen intelligence, brilliant oratory skills and an excellant command of language. This hero takes the trouble to lecture us on the meaning of life, or rather, life as a lawyer (on that matter, is there meaning in practising law? EK asks us to consider how many years are willing to sell our soul in this profession.). This hero has tremendous charisma. This hero teaches not to condescend, but to illuminate. A fount of knowledge, to nourish growing seedlings around it.

Another milestone, another source of inspiration. Another beacon in the darkness, illuminating another stretch of path. Heroes inspire you to no end.

First Day

First day at the law firm, interning. The lawyer supposed to be in charge of us was away at court and did not show up till the afternoon, so we sat there cooling our heels till he came back. The other two interns are at a negotiation meeting supposedly involving rather sordid details of a family law case. I am supposed to read a file, if only a young associate assistant to the lawyer was not using it at this very moment. There is work to be done on this file, and she has made it clear that she would rather do it on her own, instead of having me hanging over her shoulder while she works. When I next went to her room again to see if she had finished with the file she looked up with such a harassed look on her face that I quickly backed out again, apologizing..

Earlier the lawyer was typing out a statement of defence with me looking over his shoulder. He was pretty familiar with the use of Word and all the shortcut keys, navigating tabs and indents effortlessly except for the time when he typed too fast, apparently and the program balked. He bit back an expletive as the computer hung on him and threatened to close the document. But he was not stumped. Oh no. A little bit of fiddling and the program was again running smoothly.

Now I am mooching around peeking into other files left lying around my workspace. It might be a point of interest to some to know the charges for legal work in this firm. Billed by the hour, the rates are $350 per hour for a senior partner, $300 per hour for a junior partner, $200 per hour for a legal assistant. The lion’s share of the billings go to the senior partners of course. An easy life, is it not? Some disagree, though.

Settling in again

One thing I enjoy about being in PGP is being able to flick from one website to another without having to wait eons for a page to load. All praise broadband. Yeah, I'm back in hostel now, with two weeks of vacation left to go, occupying one of the only two inhabited rooms in an unusually empty corridor littered with bits of unidentifiable fluff. Evidently the cleaners are on vacation as well.

My room has been an air tight capsule with the windows closed and there wasn't much dust anywhere, but I was pleased to find that the air did not reek of something akin to old broccoli as I feared that it might. Apparently, amongst the possessions of my neighbour lodged in my room earlier this holidays, albeit for a fee, there was something that badly needed an airing. After sniffing delicately all over I concluded that it must be her pillow which I then carried off to the kitchen and placed in a pool of sunshine. I am glad to say that there has been an improvement ever since. It makes me feel good to think of all the nasty microbes and fungi spores that have been annhilated by the UV rays. Henceforth no room need smell of old broccoli, ever again.

Too quiet, too long

I have been mute/ missing for so long, I almost feel as if I should be required to explain myself. But there is not very much to say. I just left off blogging for a few days. Then a few more days, then a week, then two weeks, then three. Inertia sort of snowballs over time. The excuse I give myself is that I am not used to blogging from my home computer. Balderdash.

Two days ago, I had something that I might have blogged about: I went shopping with my mom, and I drove to the mall. The car park was packed with the cars of the shopping hordes, and I found myself circling the lot with several other cars, keeping my eyes peeled to see if any cars were getting ready to leave just yet. It became almost a game of skill and chance: everything depended on being able to spot which car was getting ready to leave, and of course, you had to be in a suitable position to be able to nip into the parking space as soon as it was vacated. I was passing a bank of parked cars when one suddenly flashed its taillights with a shrill chirp of unlocking doors. I slammed on the brakes and quickly backed into a suitable waiting position. I knew I had secured my parking lot and all I had to do was wait.

Going a little further back, a week ago, I also had something that I might have blogged about: I went back to visit my grandmother in Penang. A whole bunch of relatives also went back and for a while at least, filled the old house with the sounds of many voices. For a while at least, the old house may dwell on its cheerful present, and not reminisce merrier bygone days when my grandmother was still healthy and able to maintain the house independently. Now other people are her arms and legs to minister to the old house and its inhabitants. The overgrown garden bed is weeded and a doorframe swollen with time and dryness is repaired. Neighbours come to visit and children play card games on the floor. For an old house that has stood uninhabited for months, this period of bustle and activity is a blessing as brief and precious as a desert shower.

Even further back, is a trip with some friends. I might have blogged about it, but I did not do so sooner, and now it is but a vague memory of island hopping in Langkawi, good food in Penang, lovely blossoms and chill air in Cameron and endless hours of ‘bus time’, spent in drowsiness or deep slumber. I look at these memories closer and more memories unfold. Island hopping was salt spray and windblown hair, eagles wheeling and snatching at scraps emptied into the sea, tantalizing glimpses of dolphins somersaulting through the waves. Penang was the major eat-out one night, when we purchased different types of foods and tasted each dish. Cameron was? flowers? tea? scenery? cold, cold, everything...

Now two more weeks of holidays wait to unfold before me. Two more weeks before the next term starts. Two more weeks.