Update 87-01
Update 87-01
Starting University
28th September 2006
9:30 AMI start university today. Never thought I would be saying that phrase so soon. I had always had this dream, this vague aspiration, to go to university before 18. I have no idea why. Maybe it runs in the blood. My mum made this same journey when she was 17 to a uni in London - But thats another story. Now that my goal has been realized, it feels surreal; simply because I never actually thought the day would ever come. It always appeared so far off, what you would think about when you were asked one of them 'what do you wanna be when you grow up?' questions.
Now, on hindsight, I find that my life has passed by so fast - That everything that has led up to this point has been a mere 2 minute flashback from a short film, a distorted and messy collage of distant, idealized recollections earmarked by certain special occasions and significant memories in the life of the protagonist. Sitting at my computer now typing this out before I attend my very first Sociology class 5 hours later, I can't help but feel rather overwhelmed by it all.
Am I scared? Hell yeah. I probably am. I have made a grand total of ZERO friends thus far.
Having existed for over 17 years now, I'm trying to come to terms with who I am as a person. It somehow occurred to me now, going to university and all, that deciding what I wanted to do in life and how I wanted to shape my destiny were inextricably related to who I already was. As I begin the long and arduous journey to a new life here, I find it nearly inevitable that my personality, characteristics, and idiosyncrasies will be influenced by my new life here in America - And I took the onus to forcibly tell myself not to change. Then it struck me, like cold rain sizzling against a car's heated bonnet, that there was not much to preserve anyway. Who am I, as an individual? I can't explain why, but I cannot help but think about my own cultural identity (Or lack of) when I reflect upon my roots.
It is tough, living this lifestyle of being neither here nor there. It becomes even more surreal, as a minority in this country. Don't take me wrong - There is very little discrimination here, but one cannot help but feel rather displaced. In America, I'm too Asian. In Singapore, I'm too American. You can't really got more paradoxically globalized than that. I don't feel at home in either place. To be harshly honest, I don't feel much allegiance to either place - America or Singapore. I don't have relatives in either. In America, I can't help but miss Singapore - And vise versa in the other direction. Yet somehow, I feel like an alien, a stranger, in both. All my life, since I was 2, I've played this little game of hop-skotch: A trans-continental zig zag of constant shuttling between the US and Singapore.
As I soon transition into the adult world where identity and ethnicity become increasingly relevant and pertinent, I can't help questioning who Brian L. Tan really is. What is my identity? I am supposedly Chinese by virtue of my Great-Great-Great Grandfather being from some random village but my family from my Grandfather's time on never spoke a word of Chinese. I don't know anyone from China - All my relatives are 'pernakans' from Malaysia. We don't eat with chop sticks. We nourish ourselves with Western food most of the time; our Chinese culinary diet sadly confined to cliche stir-fried veges and sweet and sour chicken. No offense to her, but my Mum can't cook Chinese food for nuts. Her quiche, salad, pizza, and angel hair pasta with basil (mmmmm) are much better. Sure, I love Chinese food, but we like Mexican even more.
I like to think of myself as your typical
Americanized 'Global Citizen' guy - Loyalty only to himself; but the truth is that I don't know who I am. I suppose I am who I choose to be; a hodge-podge paper mache of different backgrounds and nationalities but then again, I'm not quite sure myself. In a split second, I can adopt an American, British, Singaporean, French, Malay, or Indian accent (The latter of which, I have been told, is none too convincing due to lack of practice.)
When I was a young lad at the age of 11 in America, I used to go around school pretending to be a French or British exchange student just for kicks. Nevermind. My mind (Like my fluctuating identity) is wandering. I was telling myself to write a nice optimistic post about going to university and my ambitions here but I guess that kind of fell through when this entire culture-identity issue surface. Hmmph. Anyway. Thats just been some displaced, disconcerted random thoughts about myself. I half contemplated deleting it because its so rambled but nevermind. I need to flush it out of my system since I have no one to talk to down here. Now, on to more interesting stuff...
I met this lady, at church last Sunday who migrated to the States 10 years ago, bringing her 7 year old son with her. Now, because her son never went back for NS, he's an exile too. But I don't think that would mean much to him having been away for so long. I wanted to talk to him, but wierd thing was he wasn't there at the church. Maybe the ISD... But it was nice anyway, talking to the mum and sharing a little solidarity.
Until the next emo/angst bout I will indulge myself with a little sweet taste of home.
Wierdly enough I found them in this big but average American supermarket that I also bought $1.50 wine from. Erm. Not that I drank, of course. Well... Not much anyway. Although the bottle was huge. I wonder how the hell they make money.
Huzzah for globalization. Guess it does have its benefits...
Ah here's another thing to keep me busy, for a couple of hours... Or days... At the looks of things:
Therein those boxes contain an unassembled 8 foot long dining table its 6 accompanying chairs.
Great. Too bad they dont teach carpentry at my uni.
