Just another day in a leap year

It is the last day of the month. And it is the 29th of February.

An atypical date.

...

I don't know, but I don't associate anything special about today, although I wish I did.

I mean, like a romantic connotation or the such will be nice, wouldn't it?

And yes, I am still going to watch The Leap Years. Not today of course, but sometime soon I hope.

I am not going to write things like "I wonder how it feels like to have your birthday once every four years" or "It must be nice to have something to pine for".

(I mean, yes, I wrote those but I didn't actually write them too...if you know what I mean)

The truth is, I don't really want to know how it feels like, nor do I think it is something worthwhile to pine for.

Maybe I have really grown up.

...

I had the privilege of talking to SY, a fellow au pair from Pahang.

She is still in the USA. She is ending her program soon.

She will return to Malaysia first and then head to the UK for a work-travel program.

Yes, another work-travel program. I was like...wha.

I mean, that sentiment took myself by surprise. Talk about surprises on an atypical day.

I have always considered myself to be like a water hyacinath (gee...I can't remember the spellling but you can roughly guess what I am talking about right?) floating around, never wanting to be anchored.

I would say that I haven't really changed much. I like change. I have always believed that change is the only thing that is constant. And because of that, I like new experiences, and so I love trying out new things, exploring new environments, meeting new people, making new friends.

But I have also discovered, thanks to this journey which took me to the other side of the earth, sometimes that experience can be something which blows our imagination.

Like I mentioned in my previous entries, would I ever have imagined looking for a job that can tie me here for three years...? The truth is,

no.

Never.

But therein itself is the very experience of being exotic, to a person who has always wanted to be a wanderer.

Don't they always say, there will come a day when the weary wanderer needs to rest?

...

No, I am not weary yet.

I don't think I can ever be weary wandering.

It is just that, I have learnt to discern the inner callings of my heart.

Put it another way: I have always known what I need to do; I just persuaded myself not to live it out.

It is very pressurizing to be the elder kid. Because you are the pride and glory of your parents.

For me, at least.

I would have hoped to ask (like what SY did actually) my parents for 2 more years to wander some more before I go home.

And last night, I was just talking to R, give me Japan, and that will be my second last destination.

And his reply was, "Why do you want to set standards like that?"

...I couldn't answer. I think he is right.

Who am I to decide where is my final destination?

...

I am brought home, that I know.

How long will I be home?

That, I don't know.

Maybe a year. Maybe more. Maybe less.

Maybe forever, although I hope not.

But therein lies a call. For me to heed. For me to choose.

And I kind of think it is because I know that I hold everyday in such high esteem now that Feb 29th is just another day.

Harden not your heart

In case you had thought that I am not going to blog anymore because I am safe back home (and hence, no more adventures, which is in fact relatively true), you were wrong! Ha!

Well, it is my second week back home. I am no longer sick and I am glad.

My boyfriend is coming home from his work trip to Israel and I am glad too.

All in all, I am glad.

...

I had gone for my first interview last Wednesday. It was at a Language Centre.

For what?

To teach Language lo.

Huh?

Yeah.

Specifically, to teach Chinese.

More specifically, to teach kids Chinese.

Huh?

Yeah.

I wasn't quite expecting it either. I had seen the recruitment on the newspaper which was distributed in my flight bound for home.

Talk about coincidence.

And I was really thinking very hard about going.

I mean, what do I have? No credentials at all.

But I went anyway.

The interview required me to read in fluent Mandarin a story.

A story about a missing rabbit after a flood.

Piece of cake. Pan comido.

That is not all.

I was also required to demonstrate a nursery rhyme. I could choose one out of five.

That got me jittery.

My gosh! It is not about diction anymore and that worried me.

I thought for very long before deciding which one to demonstrate.

...

It was over sooner than I thought.

And really, it was an amazing experience.

Amazing, because I would never have imagined myself doing that: demonstrating a nursery rhyme.

Yes, I blew my own mind.

*laughs*

I was supposed to wait for a phone call which will come next week.

I got one on the day itself. Three hours later.

I mean, they couldn't offer me a high salary. Simply because I didn't have any experience.

All I would be getting was the position of an Assistant Teacher.

So I opted for part time. I mean, I just need the exposure.

I just need the experience.

I just need that first chance.

...

I have been trying to sort out my life. Frankly, getting back into the rhythm and beat of a Singaporean life is not easy at all.

I was initially contemplating going back to my previous appointment at one of the polytechnics and resuming that line of work.

That would give me time off during the school's vacation slots, during which I could 1) polish up my Spanish 2) teach handicrafts at the community centre 3) concentrate on my craft of Pilates, yoga and dance.

That was the plan.

Until I really sat down and looked at the feasibility of it.

The truth is, if that were to become my lifestyle, I would be leading a very very very xiong life during the school term (because I plan to work four days a week and the workload only happens AFTER the formal classes are over, which means to say I need to work at night and during weekends probably).

I am supposed to be doing my diploma at night and that is the reason why R thought I really should opt for this choice.

Alternatively, if I take a full time job...

1) I am learning new things, and amassing new experience.
2) I may get to incur CPF.
3) I don't necessarily have to work after work and during weekends (note italics. I know that is disputable and debatable, but let's take it that way for now).

The odds are for it.

Of course, I won't get the semester breaks off to have time to do my own stuff. But I may be able to ganar mas dineros (garner more money) and then at least I have a padding when I leave overseas next year if I leave next year.

I don't know. The options are open.

It is really funny. This whole thing.

Funny, because I am doing things I never can imagine myself doing.

Getting a full-time job. Worrying about money. Taking life one day at a time.

Taking life slow.

*hums John Legend's Take it slow*

Ha!

But that is part of life.

I feel a change of heart. I don't mean it in the English literal sense. I mean it in the spiritual sense.

I can feel the transformation surging beneath my being.

It is all very different. But it is all very refreshing.

And as much as I am surprised, I love the changes.

I am so happy every single day I can't be happier.

Wait, don't get me wrong. My life is not easy.

I do think it can get better. But I am glad for whatever is in my life right now.

I still quarrel with my mum. I fight with my brother.

I worry about money, particularly because now I am eating off my family and we are not well-to-do to begin with.

I worry about my health.

I have disagreements with my boyfriend. I get disappointed with the things my friends do.

I miss the bus. I am late for appointments. I miss classes.

I don't have money to go partying. I hate feeling broke.

But that is life. The way it was, the way it is and the way it will be.

Ups and downs.

Happiness and disgruntlement.

But still, I am happy.

I am happy and thankful for the every single day I get to experience.

And really, that sentiment blows my own mind too.

...

I have been writing and sending out resumes for the past few days.

I go for my Diploma classes on Mon, Wed and Fri mornings.

I spend the day sometimes revising resumes, or I will just study.

And then I do cleaning up on the other days.

The week passes by very quickly.

And like I say, as I live my days, I keep my options open.

It really all depends on what options are available. If the polytechnic gets back to me first, I will do that. If some other organization gets back to me, I will do that.

I am all flexible.

Like I say, the shift in perspective is amazing, even by my own standards.

But I will live it out.

I like this, this courage to be myself. Maybe that is why I am happy every day.

And I just hope I will always have the courage to be myself.

Every day.

Same life. Different mind.

It has been one week since I got home.

I bet the key question on everybody's minds is...

how am I doing?

...

The truth is, I have been sick since I came home.

On Sunday I have had a temperature. I have been running one for the last couple of days.

It gets me down and lethargic. On top of the jet lag I have to fight.

On top of the fatigue I have.

These days, I have been doing what I used to do in the US. Cleaning up.

Yes, I can't believe it myself, but really, that is what I am doing.

Cleaning up my desk. Cleaning up my wardrobe.

Cleaning up the cabinets. Cleaning the bookshelves.

Cleaning up the space under the TV. Cleaning my room.

Cleaning up the computer table. Cleaning the shelves.

There are many things to clean.

Cleaning up my thoughts. Sorting out my emotions.

Cleaning up my grievances. Sorting out my plans.

Cleaning up my worries. Sorting my schedules.

Learning to pick up my life again.

...

So, am I happy?

The truth is, as much as I want to lament about what happened today--

how I broke down at home and cried because my mum still fails to understand me,

how I am crumbling under the constant pressure to 'lead a normal life' and 'get a proper job'--

and cry and complain and wrestle my arms wildly in the air screaming that life is hard,

I am happy.

I am happy now. And while I am sure life can definitely be better, I am contented with what I have.

It looks different now. Everything.

I mean, I already know things will be different when I return from this journey. I just didn't expect them to be this different.

From taking the bus to basic street navigation to Chinese place names.

Even being at home feels different.

The truth is, nobody has changed. Nothing has.

Apart for the fact that the feeder bus service has increased 5 cents and that the ERP is more expensive,

and that milk costs more and the green apples in the green grocers are not as good as those in NY,

...

My mum is still the same grounchy woman.

My brother is still the same chap who doesn't spare a thought for other people.

My dad is still the self-sacrificing diligent man.

It is still the same familiar things.

And while I would have thought there may be a little more understanding and a little more empathy, no, nothing has changed.

And really, it is ok.

I would have thought that it is not ok. I would have cried my heart out and bang my head against the wall in frustration about how fruitless the journey has been.

I would have been despondent and exasperated.

But no, I didn't react that way.

And I have no intentions of doing it.

It is all different because I am different.

I feel different. I think different.

In some ways. In many ways.

I think, one very important thing is, there is no more of that attitude of taking things for granted anymore.

And really. when 'grantedness' becomes gratitude, life takes on a different dimension.

...

My internet connection will be up in two days.

I will blog about more stuff then.

Till then.

Hasta luego

A bad employee

I thought I will cry--like I would always do when I encounter the same situation in the past--but I didn't.

Is this a sign of resilience? Of strength?

I don't know.

Or maybe it is just the detachment to emotions after a 10-hour work day.

I don't know.

And I don't care.

I mean, I care, but I don't care.

I feel very unjustified for myself, but I have realized that speaking up for myself is pointless.

No matter whose fault it is, it will ALWAYS be my fault.

His kids run slow--I am supposed to ensure a child's safety when going across the road--and as a result we miss the bus, it is my fault for being slow.

His kids take the car seat apart. Despite the fact that it was his wife's idea to clean the seats, I get the shit and he scolds the hell out of me.

The nanny didn't close the door properly. I get scolded for not ensuring that the door was secured properly.

The kids make a mess of the bedroom. They ruined the cream. I get scolded for not making sure that the cabinet door was locked.

The nanny dispenses thermometer tips each time after she has used it. I get scolded for not having asked.

Fine.

I give up.

...

Today was a terrible day. Terrible.

But I am glad it is over.

I have three more working days to go. One of which is a day of massive laundry. It would be a busy day, but I am pretty sure it will be a manageable one.

And at the end of the day, I came to a revelation:

I was always someone of a lower status.

I could tell from the way they talk to Michelle and Jenny.

You know...there was one time when it was pouring and he clearly saw that I had not brought any umbrella with me.

He was going home first, and I was down at the lobby already.

He came down with two umbrellas and asked me how I was going to fetch the kids without an umbrella "These two are for me and Michelle".

Jose witnessed the whole incident and lent me one immediately.

Just now...Michelle incurred the same mistake of letting the kid pour too much chocolate into his milk and he said nicely to her "Never ler him assume the task" whereas he had snapped at me "YOU CANNOT LET THE KID DO IT HIMSELF!"

Oh well.

It is fine.

I didn't cry.

I am hurt, but I am fine.

And I still stand by the stand that they are nice people.

They are just bad employers.

And I am just a bad employee.

*shrug shoulder*

Is it anyone's fault?

I won't make a judgement, although I know they will.

And I don't care.

Nuevo Chino ano

If I may do an official countdown, it is 4 more working days till my departure.

4 working days with inclusion of one incredibly hectic day (which is tomorrow) of 10 working hours should be bear-able, I hope.

Note the clause at the end.

I dare not hope for much; that is the least I dare to hope for.

...

I haven't been able to sleep well these few nights.

Why?

Um, I don't know, although I would think that working hard kind of makes it hard to sleep.

I am so tired I can't eat.

Then my stomach growls and I can't sleep.

But I am tired.

Ha..never mind, life is always complicated.

...

I am still attending class these days. Next Monday will be my last class.

I am a little sad, yes, I am.

But that is the way with life--we take and give. We don't always have the best scenarios but we get around it.

Life has been kind, frankly.

I mean, at least the current 'employer' takes care of my food and lodging. They are nice people.

But I really don't like how they exploit you.

I met up with the previous host today to settle some payments.

They have this thing called 'match closure' and part of the deal entails collection of outstanding payments for education and vacation and the such.

I was issued a cheque with the education allowance tabulated in--I could have ran away with it but I told them I wasn't staying here so I won't be banking the cheque.

In exchange for my honesty, he gave me $50.

Ha...does that not remind you of the stories you read when you were a kid? "Honesty is the best policy"?

That is not the point, of course.

The point is, till now, he still feels that I was a good au pair.

I tried my best. The situation didn't work out because it was not in my favour, but in their opinion, I was great.

The current family thinks I suck.

They think that ...I don't know. I don't know what they think.

I just don't like how the host mum will say "why didn't you do.... when you were waiting for the laundry?" or how the host dad will always be saying it is my fault that they have missed the bus or the such, and like how "you have to be faster" when I am holding their kid and running across the road.

Please lo.

But at the end of the day, I still think they are great people.

He helped me print out my e-ticket. They paid for my food.

At the end of the day, I will just say that the match didn't work out.

Is it anyone's fault?

I don't have an answer to that.

...

It is Chinese New Year.

Do I feel lonely?

Um...ok. Not really.

Miserable?

Um, ok. Not really.

How do I feel. then?

Many mixed feelings intertwined together.

My dad was saying "Let this be a lesson". I don't know what exactly he meant to say.

You know, if I may be frank, I came here partly because I didn't want to spend Lunar New Year at home.

I didn't like how my aunt will nag at me to find a proper job.

I didn't like how my grandma will pester me to settle down soon.

I didn't like many things.

But again, I learnt, that is the way of life.

We keep thinking we want to seek the greener pasture...only to realize maybe it is because it is of a different lighting and our eyes are just playing tricks on us.

I have grown a lot.

Learnt a lot. Seen a lot.

Felt a lot.

And I think most significantly, I have changed a lot.

Not in terms of appearance definitely (my hair is longer...but besides that, I don't think there is any difference).

As I was walking to and from school today (I walk to and from school to save transport fees because the host doesn't pay and I am just being cheapo about it. But really, it is quite a significant sum of money if you look in terms of relativity), I was thinking about what my dad had said.

Let this be a lesson.

I think he meant that...let me grow from it.

And you know what. I will.

I told myself...

I will never want to hurt their feelings again.

Never.

Never again.

And that is my pledge for the New Year.

And the ensuing years ahead.

Happy Lunar New Year.

See you soon.

Abound for home.

Their professional nanny thinks I am a little spoilt.

Um..I don't know how to react to that.

She said, light housework is defined accordingly to how the kids are--you basically have to clean up after the kids.

Um, ok lo.

She said I was comparing my expectations to the Singapore standards.

She said that the heavy housework is what the housekeeper does, for maintenance of the household.

Um...

Tell me: how do we define maintenance of the household?

Is the bathroom not an indispensable part?

The kitchen? The living room?

Aiyoh, it is all such a big grey area.

...

I was asking my mum just now (after that comment) if my going home was THE right thing to do.

She told me off.

Why was it not the right thing?

I asked another fellow Singaporean (not an au pair) the same question.

And yes...we all think alike.

Maybe at the end of the day, it all boils down to the expectations we have.

And if my expectations are not in line, and I am feeling exploited, isn't going away the best thing to do?

Why am I hesitating? Just because of a comment that I am spoilt?

Well, so what if I am spoilt?

That is not my problem. That is R's problem.

*whoops* *laughs*

...

I am bound to fly next Wed. 950am flight.

I was initially contemplating to really stay till the 14th but the host mum had told me this on Sat "We need you out by 4pm".

Ok. Got it.

It was a hostile tone.

She clarified after that. She said that she just meant she needed the room to be ready.

Whatever it is, I got it.

Will I miss this place?

Um, no.

I will miss the fact that I have been here for so long a time and yet I am going home without having tried anything.

And I will miss the fact that I have made some good close friends here.

I will also miss the fact that I haven't explored the place.

But I won't miss the place.

Because it is a lonely place.

Really. You can think that I am saying it out of spite. But it is a lonely place.

That is the idea I got after my little time here.

And I won't miss it for the fact that it is a lonely place.

A lonely sad and cold place.

With aloof and detached people (for the most part, although there are exceptions of course).

It is not my home.

And it won't be, for now, at least.

Oh my God...

I don't know how to write this entry.

Or rather, how to write the entry in the right tone.

Ah. Forget it.

I shall just speak my mind, right?

He opened my letters.

...

I don't know how you would react if someone else did it to you, but I am infuriated.

Note the present tense.

How did I know he had opened it?

Well, I saw him tearing it (I didn't know it was mine!).

And why am I angry?

Because his own letters are not even open!?

I was sick yesterday so I was resting at home.

He had called me (he was home too) and asked me to do a few things. I then went out of my room after the conversation to say hi.

I saw him tearing something.

When I was back in my room, I heard something go through under my door.

Nope, nothing in my head yet.

I woke up and saw a red envelope. Tore open.

It was from my parents.

My parents had sent an exactly similar one to him. It was unopened. On the counter.

My god.

My gosh.

First it was the camera (yes, he has two cameras in the house. To do what? I don't think I need to say more...).

Then it was the Amex card (he had initially gave me a card to buy groceries for the bus but he had taken it back even though I have two more weeks here).

Then it was the camera.

Now it is my letters.

My gosh. I don't know what to think of it.

...

I had confronted the wife about the camera and she said it was a webcam.

A webcam?

Nah, I don't want to say more.

I really don't dare to think about it anymore.

It scares the hell out of me. To think there are people like that!

We have had conflicts many times.

He had questioned me about my logical thinking one day (Why are you not a nanny back home? Why did you come to America to become a nanny when you don't like kids?).

Hello? I like kids.

Or at least, I think I do. That is why I am here.

But seriously, that conversation was not pleasant one. And I remember trying so hard to hold my tears back.

Until I broke down at the guard's office.

The irony of the whole situation from day 1 (since I stepped foot into the US) is that,

my hosts are the more daunting people among all in my circle of interactees.

I have Priscilla who helped me source for cheap winter clothing. My first host mum didn't even bother.

Right now I have Jose (the guard) who is helping me intercept the mail (I didn't want to tell him the reason about why I was looking for the postman but he knew something was wrong. He is a nice old man; reminds me of my grandpa) because my dear host dad opens my stuff.

And how did I know he did it on purpose?

Because he didn't even say a word of apology.

And ask yourself: what do you do when you accidentally opened someone's mail?

You say sorry.

Enough said.

...

I have decided to leave on the 13th Feb instead.

Initially, I was planning to stay till the 13th, so that I can 1) go for my Spanish class lab 2) attend dance class.

But really,

ye chang meng duo.

*shake head*

For the first time, I feel fear.

Fear that I am living under the same roof with someone so malicious.

God.

...

Help.