My FYP group finally met Dei... and we all clicked. We totally adore him. Its the charisma. We are now a cult... haha.
Wonderful. I can't be happier. And I must stop raving.
Saturday, December 24, 2005
Tuesday, December 13, 2005
When a person drops from heaven...
Wednesday, 7th September.
I remember. I felt horrible. I was about to go to Sri Lanka the next week. Things were not sure at that point and Tekwani said we might be going to the South and not the East, or we might just go to India if the ceasefire was breached. I was waiting for 5pm to come, so that Tekwani might pass us our flight details.
I was sitting at an area called the benches struggling to do an After Effects tutorial. Didn't want to waste time.
I was worried sick about my FYP because I had to write a proposal that would get my group funding by the first week of October. The Sri Lanka trip made it terribly difficult to make another trip to Batam for my FYP. We had no content that would ensure the Singapore Film Commission would give us money to do such a documentary. I had nothing. No translators. The only one we thought we had in Batam turned to be quite a dodgy person. I felt stuck. Horrible.
I had to have something by October 1st. All I saw was a brick wall. My contacts led me to nothing.
Then somebody came and sat on the same table as me. I heard him speak. His voice had an Indonesian accent.
To cut the long story short, he loved to help my group, would make phonecalls for us, find out about ferry timings, offer his valuable suggestions, and he is familiar with Sundanese, Javanese and Bahasa Indonesia.
Because of him, he could also recommend us his network of Indonesian friends. We had a transcript of an interview for SFC. I believe it got us the money, on top of our well-planned proposal... heh. (And thanks to Norman too).
He is amazingly trustworthy and responsible. I cannot imagine ever meeting a better candidate.
Now that I have my funding and can pay him a token sum, he says he wants to do it for free so that I can save the money and hire a translator in January when he can't help us due to his internship and other commitments.
I don't know what I have done to deserve this and I really think he dropped from heaven on the bench where I was sitting. He does what he says, and more than what I expect, which is cool.
I will still pay him at the end of it all. Anyway, my group is so blessed to have met him. I am happy. Oh happy day.
I remember. I felt horrible. I was about to go to Sri Lanka the next week. Things were not sure at that point and Tekwani said we might be going to the South and not the East, or we might just go to India if the ceasefire was breached. I was waiting for 5pm to come, so that Tekwani might pass us our flight details.
I was sitting at an area called the benches struggling to do an After Effects tutorial. Didn't want to waste time.
I was worried sick about my FYP because I had to write a proposal that would get my group funding by the first week of October. The Sri Lanka trip made it terribly difficult to make another trip to Batam for my FYP. We had no content that would ensure the Singapore Film Commission would give us money to do such a documentary. I had nothing. No translators. The only one we thought we had in Batam turned to be quite a dodgy person. I felt stuck. Horrible.
I had to have something by October 1st. All I saw was a brick wall. My contacts led me to nothing.
Then somebody came and sat on the same table as me. I heard him speak. His voice had an Indonesian accent.
To cut the long story short, he loved to help my group, would make phonecalls for us, find out about ferry timings, offer his valuable suggestions, and he is familiar with Sundanese, Javanese and Bahasa Indonesia.
Because of him, he could also recommend us his network of Indonesian friends. We had a transcript of an interview for SFC. I believe it got us the money, on top of our well-planned proposal... heh. (And thanks to Norman too).
He is amazingly trustworthy and responsible. I cannot imagine ever meeting a better candidate.
Now that I have my funding and can pay him a token sum, he says he wants to do it for free so that I can save the money and hire a translator in January when he can't help us due to his internship and other commitments.
I don't know what I have done to deserve this and I really think he dropped from heaven on the bench where I was sitting. He does what he says, and more than what I expect, which is cool.
I will still pay him at the end of it all. Anyway, my group is so blessed to have met him. I am happy. Oh happy day.
Monday, October 17, 2005
Stress
We're all learning After Effects and I am damn stressed about my final project.
I know it when I am stressed. I get macabre dreams.
The other day, I dreamt that I was in a country that had fallen into a civil conflict. The skies were a bluish grey, an dark grey train was moving along the rail road. The scene looked desaturated, except for a man that looked pale, in a rich red coat who was standing inside the train. A group of young boys were held captive in one of the cabins. They were in their tattered clothes. Some men in military attire shoved the children military attire to change into.
A boy was already in military attire. He was unwillingly, and terribly scared. The pale man in the rich red coat shoved him a rifle. He asked the boy to shoot a few POWs behind him. The train came to a sudden stop. The boy almost lost his balance, while still holding the rifle. The man in the red coat shouted at him to shoot. He was angry.
The boy pointed his gun upwards, and started firing at the roof of the cabin, also painted in the same red colour. Both him and the red man could see that soldiers were falling down from the roof of the cabin through the cabin windows. The bodies made a loud continuous thudding noise as they fell to the ground. The boy then realised that he had killed the soldiers standing on the roof of the cabin. Blood was dripping through the bullet holes on the roof. He had killed when he didn't mean to.
The man in red was shocked into silence and he glared at the boy.
Then, I woke up.
Bleh. I hope I dream the next episode.
I know it when I am stressed. I get macabre dreams.
The other day, I dreamt that I was in a country that had fallen into a civil conflict. The skies were a bluish grey, an dark grey train was moving along the rail road. The scene looked desaturated, except for a man that looked pale, in a rich red coat who was standing inside the train. A group of young boys were held captive in one of the cabins. They were in their tattered clothes. Some men in military attire shoved the children military attire to change into.
A boy was already in military attire. He was unwillingly, and terribly scared. The pale man in the rich red coat shoved him a rifle. He asked the boy to shoot a few POWs behind him. The train came to a sudden stop. The boy almost lost his balance, while still holding the rifle. The man in the red coat shouted at him to shoot. He was angry.
The boy pointed his gun upwards, and started firing at the roof of the cabin, also painted in the same red colour. Both him and the red man could see that soldiers were falling down from the roof of the cabin through the cabin windows. The bodies made a loud continuous thudding noise as they fell to the ground. The boy then realised that he had killed the soldiers standing on the roof of the cabin. Blood was dripping through the bullet holes on the roof. He had killed when he didn't mean to.
The man in red was shocked into silence and he glared at the boy.
Then, I woke up.
Bleh. I hope I dream the next episode.
Wednesday, October 05, 2005
Be Glad
I rushed up a non-airconditioned 179 bus today, trying to make my way to the the Unifem office.
I climbed up the double decker bus, sat down, and I saw the kopi uncle sitting opposite me.
What a surprise. The kopi uncle makes coffee at canteen 3. He constantly asks me to study hard, and always reprimmands me. He said I looked pale and listless today, when I was buying coffee from him earlier today. I said I was tired, lacked sleep, and that his coffee would make me feel better.
He said nobody gets tired from studying.
So there in the bus, I asked the uncle if he was going home. He said no. I asked where he lived, and he said Boon Lay. I asked where he's going, and he said to West Coast to work. He works til 12am everyday at West Coast, and starts work at 6am in NTU.
So I guess its my dose of reality. I felt really dead beat today after continuously doing my sch and church work for many long days. But now, I think my lack of rest is temporary, and I love what I do. For others like the kopi uncle, I guess they do it out of necessity.
Be glad.
I climbed up the double decker bus, sat down, and I saw the kopi uncle sitting opposite me.
What a surprise. The kopi uncle makes coffee at canteen 3. He constantly asks me to study hard, and always reprimmands me. He said I looked pale and listless today, when I was buying coffee from him earlier today. I said I was tired, lacked sleep, and that his coffee would make me feel better.
He said nobody gets tired from studying.
So there in the bus, I asked the uncle if he was going home. He said no. I asked where he lived, and he said Boon Lay. I asked where he's going, and he said to West Coast to work. He works til 12am everyday at West Coast, and starts work at 6am in NTU.
So I guess its my dose of reality. I felt really dead beat today after continuously doing my sch and church work for many long days. But now, I think my lack of rest is temporary, and I love what I do. For others like the kopi uncle, I guess they do it out of necessity.
Be glad.
Saturday, September 24, 2005
My second trip to Sri Lanka
When I went to Sri Lanka on Sept 11, it felt really good.
Its one of those events which forces you to wrap up as much of your responsibilities as humanly possible, and then take off for a week with the sole purpose of writing a story. I could take things a day at a time. I could see the magnificent beaches that face the indian ocean. I didn't get to see the stars littered across the black velvet sky because the skies were cloudy this time. The green padi fields took on a brownish tinge as harvesting season was over. The security in the east got much higher, with alot more sandbags lining the various checkpoints, and this time, the guards were clothed in full military attire, helmets included. Armoured vehicles could be seen in the streets.
Going back after 3 months, the change was obvious. Except Navaldy, a village in Batticaloa that I was working at for my story. Debris was still all over the place. Basically, my story is going to be about the debris clearance, so I only took notice of trash. Heh. Almost everybody I met, our conversation turned to trash.
Sure enough, Prof Shyam took us back to the east. Some of us had to travel about 2-3hrs from Ampara, worked for 3-4hrs at Batticaloa, and then drive another 2-3 hrs back to Ampara. There was a curfew for us to reach our van at 4pm everyday, imposed by Shyam, because his sources told him we had to be back a Ampara at 6pm. We saw Sri, our local guide, again. I totally adore Sri. There's something in him that makes people trust him. I wish I could be like him in that way. Sri and Shyam are really good photographers. They capture the moments so beautifully. Shyam took pictures of us when we dozed off in the van. I never imagined photos of us sleeping could look so interesting. Same when Sri took pictures of keith and his interview subject. They looked like they were flirting with each other very openly. Haha. I wonder when I'll ever see Sri again. And Shyam too, bcos once I graduate, I wonder if I'll keep in contact with him. Then again, if my FYP falls thru, maybe i'll stay back another year...wuhahaha.
Sri told us about how we ought to be grateful to our support network, like the translators and drivers.I am writing the story here because I am afraid I might forget it. It was one of the saddest stories I have heard. It was about him and a New York Times reporter called Amy, doing a story about the LTTE's child recruitment policy. He said for that story, he had a driver who was with him. They have travelled for 18hours and had not eaten. So that night, while they were trying to sleep hungry on a double decker bunker, his driver, who was on the upper bunk, said
"Sri, I got something to tell you Sir."
"Yes, please tell me. You can tell me anything."
"its my birthday today sir".
"Really? You know, its my birthday today too. Tell me what you would like for your birthday?"
"I would like to learn to speak english like you and amy, sir."
So Sri told him how he would get him a Sinhalese-English dictionary once they got back to Colombo. After the assignment, Sri said he earned quite a bit, and set aside US$100 for the driver, while Amy set aside US$150. They were waiting for the driver to complete his next assignment, and arrive in Colombo. But Sri read in the papers that the driver and his jeep went missing, and that he was probably killed. After Sri said that, we were in complete silence for quite a long time. Almost uncomfortable having to handle negative emotions like that. Sri smiled, but it didn't seem to lift the gravity of his story.
My experience in Sri Lanka. I still can't put it in words. I didn't write about it the moment I came back, because I was transcribing my interview notes, and thought that I would have some conclusive thoughts about it later. Day after day passed, and all my work found me again. And then I thought about my trip. I guess I learnt more about myself. My flaws, my strengths, my inability to handle what I thought I could. Tho I was kinda proud of myself that I could now ride in a van for 11 hrs across high altitude (in Kandy) without puking. I am even used to the exhaust. I ate with my hands, drank ginger tea from villagers who used dubious water sources. I think my stomach must have got stronger. Haha.
Well, so now I am back in Singapore for almost a week now. I am thinking about my translator(another Sri), because I guess I made a friend after working with him for 3 days. I also met an Nesha, who works for USAID. He was in charge of the Batticaloa Lagoon cleaning project, and I had to meet up with him to ask him about the project. It turned out he was from Sri's University (Eastern University), just like the many other NGO workers and govt office workers which turned out to be my translator's friends. I was kinda amused because he meets his coursemates, juniors and what not everywhere. Sometimes, I get a bit frustrated because I had to try to remember names I would forget only a second later.
Wonder how they are all doing now. And I better follow-up on my story soon, before the raw feeling disappears.
I'll post photos once they are uploaded. Look forward to them. Heh
Its one of those events which forces you to wrap up as much of your responsibilities as humanly possible, and then take off for a week with the sole purpose of writing a story. I could take things a day at a time. I could see the magnificent beaches that face the indian ocean. I didn't get to see the stars littered across the black velvet sky because the skies were cloudy this time. The green padi fields took on a brownish tinge as harvesting season was over. The security in the east got much higher, with alot more sandbags lining the various checkpoints, and this time, the guards were clothed in full military attire, helmets included. Armoured vehicles could be seen in the streets.
Going back after 3 months, the change was obvious. Except Navaldy, a village in Batticaloa that I was working at for my story. Debris was still all over the place. Basically, my story is going to be about the debris clearance, so I only took notice of trash. Heh. Almost everybody I met, our conversation turned to trash.
Sure enough, Prof Shyam took us back to the east. Some of us had to travel about 2-3hrs from Ampara, worked for 3-4hrs at Batticaloa, and then drive another 2-3 hrs back to Ampara. There was a curfew for us to reach our van at 4pm everyday, imposed by Shyam, because his sources told him we had to be back a Ampara at 6pm. We saw Sri, our local guide, again. I totally adore Sri. There's something in him that makes people trust him. I wish I could be like him in that way. Sri and Shyam are really good photographers. They capture the moments so beautifully. Shyam took pictures of us when we dozed off in the van. I never imagined photos of us sleeping could look so interesting. Same when Sri took pictures of keith and his interview subject. They looked like they were flirting with each other very openly. Haha. I wonder when I'll ever see Sri again. And Shyam too, bcos once I graduate, I wonder if I'll keep in contact with him. Then again, if my FYP falls thru, maybe i'll stay back another year...wuhahaha.
Sri told us about how we ought to be grateful to our support network, like the translators and drivers.I am writing the story here because I am afraid I might forget it. It was one of the saddest stories I have heard. It was about him and a New York Times reporter called Amy, doing a story about the LTTE's child recruitment policy. He said for that story, he had a driver who was with him. They have travelled for 18hours and had not eaten. So that night, while they were trying to sleep hungry on a double decker bunker, his driver, who was on the upper bunk, said
"Sri, I got something to tell you Sir."
"Yes, please tell me. You can tell me anything."
"its my birthday today sir".
"Really? You know, its my birthday today too. Tell me what you would like for your birthday?"
"I would like to learn to speak english like you and amy, sir."
So Sri told him how he would get him a Sinhalese-English dictionary once they got back to Colombo. After the assignment, Sri said he earned quite a bit, and set aside US$100 for the driver, while Amy set aside US$150. They were waiting for the driver to complete his next assignment, and arrive in Colombo. But Sri read in the papers that the driver and his jeep went missing, and that he was probably killed. After Sri said that, we were in complete silence for quite a long time. Almost uncomfortable having to handle negative emotions like that. Sri smiled, but it didn't seem to lift the gravity of his story.
My experience in Sri Lanka. I still can't put it in words. I didn't write about it the moment I came back, because I was transcribing my interview notes, and thought that I would have some conclusive thoughts about it later. Day after day passed, and all my work found me again. And then I thought about my trip. I guess I learnt more about myself. My flaws, my strengths, my inability to handle what I thought I could. Tho I was kinda proud of myself that I could now ride in a van for 11 hrs across high altitude (in Kandy) without puking. I am even used to the exhaust. I ate with my hands, drank ginger tea from villagers who used dubious water sources. I think my stomach must have got stronger. Haha.
Well, so now I am back in Singapore for almost a week now. I am thinking about my translator(another Sri), because I guess I made a friend after working with him for 3 days. I also met an Nesha, who works for USAID. He was in charge of the Batticaloa Lagoon cleaning project, and I had to meet up with him to ask him about the project. It turned out he was from Sri's University (Eastern University), just like the many other NGO workers and govt office workers which turned out to be my translator's friends. I was kinda amused because he meets his coursemates, juniors and what not everywhere. Sometimes, I get a bit frustrated because I had to try to remember names I would forget only a second later.
Wonder how they are all doing now. And I better follow-up on my story soon, before the raw feeling disappears.
I'll post photos once they are uploaded. Look forward to them. Heh
Friday, July 22, 2005
3 days in Bangkok
I was in Bangkok for 3 days.
The picture was taken at a massage parlour. It cost us 600 Baht (S$1 = 24.2 Baht, sigh, you do the math is you aren't lazy like me). We must have been cheated, because I heard from a friend that it would have cost us alot less. At that point, I guess we didn't realise it, especially not after a painful 2-hour thai traditional massage. That's why we were still smiling happily and doing poses for the camera - terribly relaxed muscles, and terribly grateful it was over.
Ishi and Rosemary weren't able to join us on the trip. From left to right, Jansen, me, Grace, Aaron, and Cherlyn. I didn't know Jansen at all before the trip. Aaron didn't know him either. By the end of the trip, Aaron and Jansen became the best of friends, and even bought the same Heineken Tshirt, the same belt and the same bracelet. Dodgy? Hahaha...
Wednesday, July 13, 2005
Anti-Climax!
The man in the yellow and blue striped shirt was sharing with us his tsunami story, and was at the point of tears many times.
The seabreeze was strong, and blew my cup of ice-cold milo onto me, and on the ground. Glass shattered. A lady came to wipe up the mess, and Sri, our translator in the pink shirt, leant back and waited for the commotion to pass.
Seconds later, we were back at listening.
Thursday, July 07, 2005
Sri Lanka- My Experience of a Lifetime
When I first stepped out of the airport, the first impression of Sri Lanka was a soldier holding on to a machine gun, flashing me a friendly smile.
What struck me was the fragility of peace in the country. June 29 was President Kumaratanga's birthday, and we were in Colombo, staying at Galle Face Hotel. As we walked past the old parliament building to a restaurant for our dinner, we saw that the entire area was patrolled by the Sri Lankan army, for fear that a terror attack would occur.
When we were in Batticaloa, the Special Task Force(set up by the Sri Lankan government, I think it is a paramilitary force) was also protecting Tamil Tiger events. To me, it was new to see government forces guarding for what some might call a terror organisation. I think it was to prevent attacks from either sides of the conflict.
Shyam decided to bring us to Ampara District and let us do our work in the east coast, without the faculty's knowlege. We stopped at several points on the east coast, from Batticaloa to Arugam Bay, Pottuvil. and spoke to the people there, from resort owners to fisherman, to hindus, muslims and buddhists, to men, women, teenagers, children.
The place that gave me a bit of jitters was at Maruthamunai. When Shyam dropped us off at the Muslim Village, he asked us to stay at that spot and not move around first, because he was unsure how they would react. The muslims have been pretty unhappy with the government and has recently been organising rallies and strikes to protest against the joint mechanism, which left them with little political power compared to the Sinhalese and Tamils. So 12 of us stood around the same spot and chatted with the locals. And more and more of them came to check us out, and surrounded us. They were harmless. Except for a drunk man who kept scolding us. I guess it gave me an idea of how a riot could be started.
I came back from Sri Lanka on July 5, which was the Black Tigers Day. The day before we drove past a Tamil Tigers float with pictures of their "matyrs". We took a group photo at a Tamil Tigers memorial, and passed through many of their checkpoints. I think my mom would've died if she knew where I was at... haha.
Anyway, I had the longest car ride of my life... an 11 hour drive from Colombo to Amparai, through Kandy. The winding mountain roads caused me to puke twice on my way there. Good thing the motion sickness only lasted 2 days. If it had continued, I would not have been able to function properly because of the dehydration from puking all that I ate and drank. On our way back, we drove past Polonawaru instead of Kandy, to avoid the mountain roads. It was a longer distance, but a more comfortble ride. We drove through plains, some of which Shyam said used to be dense jungle until the Tamil Tigers flattened the ground out so they could spot and shoot anyone that entered into their territory more easily. I saw a female STF soldier, the first of all my 7 days in Sri Lanka.
The soldiers all looked very young, and I asked Shyam what the soldiers did when they grow old. He told me light-heartedly that they had no chance to grow old so far, as the ceasefire has only lasted 3 years. Prior to that, they just died in the war. I remember I smiled at him, first in disbelief, but when the gravity of the statement sunk down, I just didn't know what else to say.
Sri Lanka is a beautiful place. The first day we arrived at Amparai at night. The van drove through rice padi fields with not a building in sight, and the vast black sky was littered by thousands of sparkling stars. We had the van windows open and the wind was blowing strongly on our faces. If the world had no snakes, it would have been fun to run through the fields barefoot.
Arugam bay is a gorgeous looking beach. The place looked like it was colour-enhanced on photoshop. The beach was overwhelmingly beautiful. But when I looked at the opposite direction, I could see the debris left by the tsunami, the broken skeletons of resorts washed away.
Well, I'll not write about the tsunami stories i heard because they might be published if our team is lucky enough. By the end of the trip, I just did not want to hear about the tsunami anymore, but at the same confused moment, I was tempted to do an Ali G, asking people in the dead centre of the country, far away from the coast, how they were affected by the tsunami. Of course we didn't do it because it is too much like crappy american television.
Talking about crappy american television, I heard that Good Morning America flew a Sri Lankan couple over, as a follow-up of the Baby 81 story. When I was in Colombo for a media conference, the Bureau Chief for AFP. Mr Amal Jayasinghe mentioned how Baby 81 was a fake story. Which clearly shocked me, because the story was like THE STORY of all tsunami human interest stories. I guess when the media discovered it was false, the story had run its mill, and did not even deserve a mention that it was a fake story. The story was about 9 parents wanting to claim the same baby, but the reporter could only quote from the baby's real parents/sole claimants. The tv station got footage of 2 women wanting to carry the baby, but one woman was actually the grandmother. It amazing how a misunderstanding can suddenly be full-blown to sound like truth.
The trip to Sri Lanka was my experience of a lifetime. And all I'm left with now are the mosquito bites that have left scabs on my legs, and pages of untidy notes and some photos (which I hope would turn out ok, because my camera was kinda faulty).
Well. the next trip is in September... I hope we can still go back to Ampara... =)
What struck me was the fragility of peace in the country. June 29 was President Kumaratanga's birthday, and we were in Colombo, staying at Galle Face Hotel. As we walked past the old parliament building to a restaurant for our dinner, we saw that the entire area was patrolled by the Sri Lankan army, for fear that a terror attack would occur.
When we were in Batticaloa, the Special Task Force(set up by the Sri Lankan government, I think it is a paramilitary force) was also protecting Tamil Tiger events. To me, it was new to see government forces guarding for what some might call a terror organisation. I think it was to prevent attacks from either sides of the conflict.
Shyam decided to bring us to Ampara District and let us do our work in the east coast, without the faculty's knowlege. We stopped at several points on the east coast, from Batticaloa to Arugam Bay, Pottuvil. and spoke to the people there, from resort owners to fisherman, to hindus, muslims and buddhists, to men, women, teenagers, children.
The place that gave me a bit of jitters was at Maruthamunai. When Shyam dropped us off at the Muslim Village, he asked us to stay at that spot and not move around first, because he was unsure how they would react. The muslims have been pretty unhappy with the government and has recently been organising rallies and strikes to protest against the joint mechanism, which left them with little political power compared to the Sinhalese and Tamils. So 12 of us stood around the same spot and chatted with the locals. And more and more of them came to check us out, and surrounded us. They were harmless. Except for a drunk man who kept scolding us. I guess it gave me an idea of how a riot could be started.
I came back from Sri Lanka on July 5, which was the Black Tigers Day. The day before we drove past a Tamil Tigers float with pictures of their "matyrs". We took a group photo at a Tamil Tigers memorial, and passed through many of their checkpoints. I think my mom would've died if she knew where I was at... haha.
Anyway, I had the longest car ride of my life... an 11 hour drive from Colombo to Amparai, through Kandy. The winding mountain roads caused me to puke twice on my way there. Good thing the motion sickness only lasted 2 days. If it had continued, I would not have been able to function properly because of the dehydration from puking all that I ate and drank. On our way back, we drove past Polonawaru instead of Kandy, to avoid the mountain roads. It was a longer distance, but a more comfortble ride. We drove through plains, some of which Shyam said used to be dense jungle until the Tamil Tigers flattened the ground out so they could spot and shoot anyone that entered into their territory more easily. I saw a female STF soldier, the first of all my 7 days in Sri Lanka.
The soldiers all looked very young, and I asked Shyam what the soldiers did when they grow old. He told me light-heartedly that they had no chance to grow old so far, as the ceasefire has only lasted 3 years. Prior to that, they just died in the war. I remember I smiled at him, first in disbelief, but when the gravity of the statement sunk down, I just didn't know what else to say.
Sri Lanka is a beautiful place. The first day we arrived at Amparai at night. The van drove through rice padi fields with not a building in sight, and the vast black sky was littered by thousands of sparkling stars. We had the van windows open and the wind was blowing strongly on our faces. If the world had no snakes, it would have been fun to run through the fields barefoot.
Arugam bay is a gorgeous looking beach. The place looked like it was colour-enhanced on photoshop. The beach was overwhelmingly beautiful. But when I looked at the opposite direction, I could see the debris left by the tsunami, the broken skeletons of resorts washed away.
Well, I'll not write about the tsunami stories i heard because they might be published if our team is lucky enough. By the end of the trip, I just did not want to hear about the tsunami anymore, but at the same confused moment, I was tempted to do an Ali G, asking people in the dead centre of the country, far away from the coast, how they were affected by the tsunami. Of course we didn't do it because it is too much like crappy american television.
Talking about crappy american television, I heard that Good Morning America flew a Sri Lankan couple over, as a follow-up of the Baby 81 story. When I was in Colombo for a media conference, the Bureau Chief for AFP. Mr Amal Jayasinghe mentioned how Baby 81 was a fake story. Which clearly shocked me, because the story was like THE STORY of all tsunami human interest stories. I guess when the media discovered it was false, the story had run its mill, and did not even deserve a mention that it was a fake story. The story was about 9 parents wanting to claim the same baby, but the reporter could only quote from the baby's real parents/sole claimants. The tv station got footage of 2 women wanting to carry the baby, but one woman was actually the grandmother. It amazing how a misunderstanding can suddenly be full-blown to sound like truth.
The trip to Sri Lanka was my experience of a lifetime. And all I'm left with now are the mosquito bites that have left scabs on my legs, and pages of untidy notes and some photos (which I hope would turn out ok, because my camera was kinda faulty).
Well. the next trip is in September... I hope we can still go back to Ampara... =)
Saturday, April 23, 2005
Galle, here I come!
I am overjoyed.
I got accepted into this programme my school has organised(called GO-FAR), to report about the post-tsunami happenings.
I was initially posted to Meulaboh, Aceh. My parents and Bro Wai Keong didn't want me in Indonesia because they were worried about the quakes...
I requested Dr Cherian George to place me in Galle, Sri Lanka, instead.
He said it would be difficult because the programme was 3 times oversubscribed.
When my dad said no to me going to Meulaboh, I was so upset. Heavy with disappointment. I felt like my emotions all caved in to form this emptiness within me. Silly me. Got so upset for no reason... haha... if only I waited another day before I decided to get sad.
Because, thankfully, Dr Cherian told me the next day that Jessica wanted to switch to Meulaboh and I could take her place in Galle, I was bursting with joy. I am so damn fortunate.
Now I am so happy. I get to go to Sri Lanka... Mr Shyam is leading the trip, and I totally adore him. He's amazing. Some people just have this aura that makes them so well-liked... I think he's one of them. And Swee Jean is going too! I miss her a great deal...
Everything sounds perfect. Though my schedule is still screwed up... its a complicated issue... I am unable to squeeze in the Sabah Missions trip...
And sometimes, I feel sad when I think about Bro Wai Keong's reaction when I told him about my GO-FAR trip. It breaks me. I don't understand. He was hesitant about it, and though he agreed, he didn't seem to really support it.
I am confused.
I got accepted into this programme my school has organised(called GO-FAR), to report about the post-tsunami happenings.
I was initially posted to Meulaboh, Aceh. My parents and Bro Wai Keong didn't want me in Indonesia because they were worried about the quakes...
I requested Dr Cherian George to place me in Galle, Sri Lanka, instead.
He said it would be difficult because the programme was 3 times oversubscribed.
When my dad said no to me going to Meulaboh, I was so upset. Heavy with disappointment. I felt like my emotions all caved in to form this emptiness within me. Silly me. Got so upset for no reason... haha... if only I waited another day before I decided to get sad.
Because, thankfully, Dr Cherian told me the next day that Jessica wanted to switch to Meulaboh and I could take her place in Galle, I was bursting with joy. I am so damn fortunate.
Now I am so happy. I get to go to Sri Lanka... Mr Shyam is leading the trip, and I totally adore him. He's amazing. Some people just have this aura that makes them so well-liked... I think he's one of them. And Swee Jean is going too! I miss her a great deal...
Everything sounds perfect. Though my schedule is still screwed up... its a complicated issue... I am unable to squeeze in the Sabah Missions trip...
And sometimes, I feel sad when I think about Bro Wai Keong's reaction when I told him about my GO-FAR trip. It breaks me. I don't understand. He was hesitant about it, and though he agreed, he didn't seem to really support it.
I am confused.
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