Anakku

i first met her waaaaaayyyyyyyy back in 1996.

i went to Camp Cameron (Camp Cam) during my first year uni break. It was a three-week long camp held at a cluster of chalets located very near a lake just after Ringlet, Cameron Highland.

It was a very special camp where the participants were required to stay in chalets as a 'family'. All of us were a bunch of young, clueless (i think that's me), idealistic uni students then. Each chalet had a set of 'grandpa' and 'grandma' (the FES staff), a 'papa' and a 'mama' (the participants) and the 'children' (the participants).

i was very 'honoured' to be selected as a 'mama' of Chalet 8 (actually, 'mamas' had to bear more responsibilities). So, together with my new-found 'husband', Larry, whom i didn't love, we found ourselves the 'parents' of 3 sons (Victor, James & David) and 6 daugthers (Yoke Meng, Mei Chyi, Julie, Evonne, Corrine & Ai Sing)... hope i didn't miss out anyone. i was very 'fertile' then.

My 'husband' and i had to run the household, delegating household chores, collecting money from the 'children' for special treats once in awhile, making sure light's off at 11 pm, etc... under the supervision of 'grandpa' Christopher and 'grandma' Evelyn and not forgetting 'aunt' Mary.

For three weeks we were 'stuck' together. We listened to talks after talks, studied the Word together (with members of other chalets and in our own smaller group), shared, talked, laughed together, cried together (some sessions were emotionally draining), ate together, participated in rehearsed drama and inpromptu sketch, played Captain ball every evening at the field across the winding road (we were the champion! Yes!), challenged other chalets in sports and board games, visited other chalets (showing 'neighbourliness'), had the Wednesday outings to Brinchang (our 'prison breaks'), got to know each other, got on each other's nerve, learned to settle disputes and issues, etc...

We enjoyed ourselves. At least i did!

Of all the members in my chalet, i got to know one of my 'daughters' better. We just clicked. i don't know when it started but we just kinda got along pretty well.

One day, she invited me to the playground opposite the chalets. It was an appointment. She said she had something to tell me (if i remember correctly). i thought we had issues and she needed to trash it out. But, i forgot and slept the afternoon away.

When i remembered and asked her later, she said it was nothing. Ooops, i'd stepped on her tail, i thought to myself.

But one night, a few days later, she came to me and asked...

"Can I be your friend?"

Huh???

"i thought we are already friends!" i said, flabbergasted.

She then proceeded to tell me that that was how she made friends. She was serious about friendships. She was intense. We chatted late into the night. i couldn't remember the rest of the conversation. My memory has failed me. But, yeah, we became friends... officially... O_o

She has her quaint ways and all. We kept in touch after the camp; writing snail mails, sending cards (i will never forget her self-designed birthday card for my 21st birthday! It was awesome!), calling each other...

But distance kind of cooled down our friendship. i was in KL and she was up north. Later, i did visit her hometown twice and met up, pigged myself, talked about old times and updated each other.

Over the years, there is one thing, however, that she has continued doing; calling me up on my birthdays to wish me. i would love to say that i have been diligently doing the same but alas, i haven't. i forgot to call her on her birthday in 2003 (Why 2003? Now that's another post.) and on another year, i called her but couldn't get her because she was in Langkawi with a group of friends and she had left her handphone in another room (Hah! i remember this detail).

A few months ago, after discovering FB, i 'found' her and is now more updated with her news and all. i 'see' my 'daughter' more frequently now on FB and chats.

So, now that i am more Internet-savvy and could afford to siok a bit...

Happy birthday, anakku! Thanks for your friendship. i cherish you lots!

(How much? i have dedicated this whole blog entry for you! So don't expect a call from me lah!)

Okaylah, will call you later tonight... have to keep the tradition going...

Love always,

Mama

speechless, still am

i am finding it increasingly difficult to handle teens nowadays. Maybe it's the generation gap or i really suck at teaching them.

i do feel like a Pentium 1 processor and they, the Intel CoreDuo. Their minds are so quick and they are getting so smart as the years go by. Or am i losing it?

At the same time, their attitudes are not that admirable. In the short or long 8 years that i have been teaching, i've seen many come and go. The children are definitely getting smarter but their attitude suck big time. Yes, teens, they maybe but they can be really manipulative and twist things around their fingers. And the most astonishing thing is that their parents totally support their unbecoming behaviours.

And the worst of the lot happens to be church-goers or those who claim to love the Father, JC, and the HS. Children of pastors, church elders, leaders, so on and so forth. In fact, the most difficult parents could be them too. It's sad, but true.

Some say that it's the work of Mr S. A. Tan, attacking the leadership and weakening families of God. To a certain extent, it may be true but i beg to differ. We are giving way too much credit to ourselves by always blaming him. Choosing to blame him seems to be the easier option rather than to face up to the reality that we have the right to choose and do what is right, that God's power is greater than that of the world. By giving the excuse that we are sinners, and yes, indeed we are redeemed sinners, and thus imperfect and prone to trespasses, belittles the power of resurrection. JC would have died in vain.

When i was just a green horn, i've the privilege of working with many students in the few portfolios that i was handling. i've guided a few top students, some awesome and charismatic student-leaders and many other students from different levels of academic achievements, backgrounds, race and beliefs. The majority were a joy for me to teach, educate, lead, coach, mentor and help. i love their eagerness, their genuine passion, their teachability, their commitment, their dedication...

Of course, there were a few difficult ones but not that i could not handle or deal with. When my students go out of line, i'd most definitely not mince my thoughts and i'd definitely give them a piece of my mind. i'm not one of those timid or inexperienced teachers who could be bullied or threatened into submission by my students. When these students work together with me, they already know the person i am. i am straightforward and sets the boundary clearly right from the very beginning.

However, the worst experiences i had was last year. From one case to another, they involved Christian students. i have yet to figure out why but all the painful lessons that i have learned in that one whole year were from them.

The most selfish were them, the most double-faced were them, the most ungrateful were them, the most apathetic were them, the ones with the most excuses were them, the ones who claimed ignorance were them, the ones who chickened out were them, the most ambitious and want-it-all and yet calculative of the cost they had to pay to achieve the glories were them.

And the list went on and on...

And no, i am not talking about just only a specific group of students, but students from different levels and from different portfolios.

And it just completely drained me, totally. i was floored. It rendered me speechless. It was incredulous! My heart sank rock bottom, the joy of teaching and educating was wiped out from my soul, the passion for what i do was dampened, many tears were shed, many sleepless nights were endured...

i was in despair, confusion; hurt, depressed...

Upon reflection, i felt that way because:

i teach with all my heart

i give my all

i try my best

i sacrifice the time, energy and finance

i go the extra mile

i desire to be different

i want to make a difference

i was hurt because i cared too much.

i am still recovering, my soul is still healing... but i am not the same anymore. There is hesitation, there is trepidation, reservation, which i used not to have...

And now it seems like history is repeating itself. From a distance, i am seeing a repeat of last year. New sets of churchy students and parents are getting the upper hand using underhanded methods, manipulating... (NOT to be confused with the favour of God).

i am not directly involved because they are under other teachers in different projects and competitions. And some of my colleagues had a hard time. i am just looking on from a distance... amazed.

This year i find that i am still speechless...

Speechless because we are called to be different. We are meant to be different.

Are we not?