Near and dear

As my time in Rosario comes to its imminent end next week, my days have somehow mysteriously gotten busier in the last few weeks, with schedules packing their ways back into my life. Maybe it’s knowing that my time here is finite, maybe it’s the realisation that I may never be back here again. Whatever the case is, I had been trying to do more with the same amount of time – taking more weekend trips, going for more tango classes and milongas (tango is such an amazing dance, but that’s for another day), meeting friends whom I have formed close connections with, hanging out more with the family and Juani, the adorable 5 year-old that I have formed a special connection with, chilling by Rio Panara and enjoying the autumn sun and breeze, and exploring as many cafés and bars as I could in my final attempt to be better acquainted with this city.

At the back of my mind, I kept telling myself that I have to explore more. And further. There is still so much to see and do. This is my only chance.

Until somewhere at the beginning of last week. I attended one of my last few Spanish classes with my teacher, Debi, and we talked about what I had done in this city so far. After our candid sharing, she said to me (in Spanish), “That’s great, and I am sure you have explored your very lovely neighbourhood. It’s my favourite neighbourhood in this city.”

*radio silence*

Err, my neighbourhood?

I probably gave her the goofiest deer-in-headlight look that translated to ‘omg-I-actually-did-not” and she caught it immediately.

“Jane! I can’t believe you didn’t explore your neighbourhood!!! You have been staying there for 3 months! Arroyito is a beautiful neighbourhood!”

She was right. Absolutely right. At that point in time, I had been here for 3 months, had a mental checklist of the many places I need to go, yet totally neglected the surroundings I had been living in for the last 3 months. Maybe I saw it day-in day-out, when I woke up, and before I went to sleep. Maybe it always felt accessible and the proximity diluted my appreciation for it.

Somehow, we always carelessly neglect the things that are the closest in proximity to us. The beauty so near, yet often overlooked.

So I took a walk around my neighbourhood Arroyito one sunny late afternoon, and found myself surrounded by tranquillity, artistic expressions, charming European houses and pockets of interesting, independent mom-and-pop shops. I passed by a primary school and saw how excited the kids were playing in their checkered uniforms (blue for boys and pink for girls), then a secondary school where the uniforms were totally mangled – girls had the shortest skirts (we had all been through that hur) and boys had their shirts tucked out in hope of displaying more swag and style. Neighbours rode leisurely on bicycles, Cumbia blasted randomly from cars, people hung out in the park on a weekday afternoon reading books, shop keepers took time and listened to my badly spoken Spanglish, and gave me the assistance that I needed with incredible patience.

I felt rejuvenated by the afternoon I spent. Honestly, I didn’t realise my neighbourhood had so much to offer and I gained good insights into the lives of the people in just one afternoon. To think that I hadn’t paid attention to it simply because it is always there.

It reminded me of the many things I have taken for granted back home because they are always there for me – my parents’ unconditional love, the solid friendships I have with a tight knitted group of darlings, the neighbourhood I lived in that I honestly hardly know of, the food centres with the amazing $3 chap cai png that is impossible to find anywhere else, and all other things great and small.

Interestingly, it is always these seemingly inconsequential things that tug the heart’s strings when we reminisce what we miss.

Thank you Arroyito, for having and hosting me in the past 3.5 months. For the beautifully shady trees giving respite from the sun on the pavements, the peace and quietness, the zealous singing of praises and hymns from the church every Sunday, the (bad) Cumbia music blasting from the nearby gymnasium at 7pm every evening, the curious stares from inquisitive neighbours (nosotros tenemos una Chino en nuestro barrio!), amongst many other things.

More importantly, thank you for reminding me that beauty exists right at my doorstep, if I allow myself to see and experience it.

My heart is filled with gratitude.

Right outside my house

The quaint and quiet neighbourhood. Everyone is taking a siesta so there’s no one on the streets 🙂

Graffiti with wonderfully introspective messages

Football or futbol, is the way of life. Arroyito is the home to Rosario Central, and the Rosarinos are crazy passionate about their team (including Juani, the 5 year old I live with. He will wear the Central jersey everyday if he has a choice, sings the fan song every minute and plays futbol like a pro) 

In-between

There has been a flurry of activities these weeks – tons of travelling, birthday/farewell parties, people coming and going. I took a short trip to Buenos Aires last weekend and will be off to Valle de la Luna in San Juan (hola, dinosaurios!) the next. At the same time, 2 good friends of mine here are having their birthday and farewell (she goes back home to Switzerland) parties tomorrow, so there has been tons of fiesta preparation. It’s funny when everything always happens at the same time.

On a sidenote, I have decided to move to Buenos Aires in end April because I really like the city on my last visit. It has been a challenge looking for an apartment so far that’s well within budget, but that’s part of the deal leading a nomadic, sporadic lifestyle. It’s pretty fun, albeit the occasional hair-pulling moments. But I guess I just have to trust the process.

I apologize for the less-than-active updates as a result – I’ll be back, really soon 🙂

Not every day is a Sunday

I miss home terribly these 2 weeks.

Last week, my country was mourning because we had lost our founding father, Mr Lee Kuan Yew. He was a great leader who loved Singapore with all his heart and gave us what we have today. Despite his hard-handed ways which many (including myself) did not take to many times, he was nonetheless, a brilliant politician, shrewd, sharp, determined and fearless. Last Sunday, Singapore sent him off after a 7-day long wake in a state funeral. Many people gathered the streets to catch a final glimpse of his coffin, undeterred by the torrential rains storming throughout the island.

I wished I could be home, to pay my last respects like how my family and friends did. To be with my country at this important moment, to be united with my people and share the grief together.

However, I was not, and could only update myself sporadically over the internet with latest newsfeed. I could only Skype and Whatsapp my family and friends to learn of their well-beings. The most I could do was to stay up at unearthly hours, watch the state processions live online and feel thankful for modern connectivity that gave me the opportunity to do so.

Often, I get remarks from friends saying, “wow, looks like you are having a blast!” or “looks like you are having a lot of fun!” or “I wish I could lead your life and be lucky like you!”. I deeply appreciate them reaching out, grateful that they care enough to share their sentiments with me. It’s a blessing to receive love and I am thankful.

However, I realised many people have this perception that living a dream means having rosy Sundays with rainbows and unicorns every day. Truth be told, it is on the contrary, not the case.

For example, I would really love to be back home in Singapore last week. However, I chose to be here, because it didn’t make sense to fly 30 hours home, another 30 hours back, and incur a hefty bill along with it.

I made the choice to leave home and I know that life doesn’t stop just because I am here; the wheel keeps turning. I made a choice and I accept the consequences that come along with it.

With every dream, the notion of choices and consequences still stands firm.

When I was globetrotting as a flight attendant, I lost my grandfather when I was doing a layover in Hong Kong. I came home to Singapore on 1^st January 2005 and headed straight to his wake.

When I was in Melbourne in 2006, my parents got into a car accident and my mother was due for an operation as I reported for my flight back to Singapore. I flew home suppressing tears in my eyes and had to mask my anxiety behind a portrait of smiles. Every job has its challenges. It was really tough to remain cheerful and open in my interactions with my passengers. But I did my best anyway, because they deserved a pleasant time on-board and a comforting journey home.

And now when I am 16,136km away from home, my country mourned but here I am, in a foreign land, without another Singaporean in sight.

Living our dreams, although exciting, is never a stroll in the park. It comes with prices, as with every other thing in life.

A lot of people tell me that I can do what I want to do because I am blessed with minimal burdens and responsibilities. I have able-bodied parents, am single, and do not have a house and car to pay for. That I am lucky to be born free.

Yes they are right, but what they don’t see are the choices I have made before to land myself to where I am today. Also, I believe that as long as our survivals are not threatened, every one of us is as free as the next.

Just because I am here doesn’t mean I don’t have family duties to account for. Being here doesn’t mean that I don’t care about my family and friends back home.

Day in and out, I check in on my parents, making sure their well-beings are taken care of, and they are healthy and happy. I nag at my father to ensure he is taking his daily medications faithfully (sorry papa). I gave the rights of my bank account to my mother, making sure there is enough money in it so that the bills at home are still accounted for. I ensured they have gotten adequate insurance to give us a peace of mind. Prior to my departure, I discussed my decision with my brother, ensuring he felt comfortable that the responsibility of our parents is now with him before making this move a reality.

Day in and out, I think of my beloved grandmother, the inspiring woman who brought me up and taught me so much about life. She taught me to love fearlessly and to embrace what we feel is the correct thing to do. She taught me to be generous in love and laughter, sharing what we have with others in need and to live a life filled with compassion. She is 91 this year, the same age as Mr Lee. I miss her every single day.

At some point in time, I sold my possessions. I decided that I don’t need that car or a condominium to be happier. Although I long for a family of my own, I desire only to be in marriage to a fearless, dedicated and loving gentleman.

Two close friends of mine are getting married this year and I really wished I could be there to celebrate their union. They plan for an intimate and small gathering of family and friends, and having an invitation from them means a lot to both them and me. But I worked out my finances and made the painful decision not to attend the wedding.

I let social expectations slide off me every day. It is tough to resist judgements, but I keep doing it anyway.

The key difference between making these choices and others is that I made them with my heart. Because I made these choices with my heart, I accept the consequences that come along wholeheartedly. And it gives me the strength to keep going, especially on days when I feel homesick or morose.

My ex-boss and mentor, Irene, had always told me that there is no perfect choice. With every choice, we open new doors, and these doors lead to different paths and consequences. We have to accept the consequences of the choices we have made. And we keep adjusting and keep making new choices everyday. But we have to keep our eyes glued to the vision that we want, because that will lead us closer to attaining the dream.

Someone asked me the other day if I feel scared being in the unknown, having nothing planned next. Do I fear being irrelevant when I come home. Do I fear being unemployable after being out of the workforce for a while. And of course, the answers are yes, yes and yes.

But they don’t stop me from doing what my heart tells me to. I think I have begun accepting that fear is just another emotion, and if I learn to live with it, I can keep going on.

So yes, not every day is a Sunday, but it is just another day. We keep going. We keep believing. And we keep living 🙂

A week of arrivals and departures

I have been experiencing a mixed bag of emotions this week. Happy, sad, pensive, thoughtful, excited, comforted, peaceful, sentimental; name it and you will probably have it.

Mr Lee Kuan Yew, the founding father of Singapore, has died 3 days back. Although all Singaporeans knew that his death was imminent as he had been in a critical condition for weeks, no one could ever prepare for the moment when someone important to us departs for real, his spirit becoming another memory in our lives.

One of the few things that being on the roads sometimes bring is loneliness. Especially at moments like these, where amassing support will be comforting. It would have been really nice to gather with fellow Singaporeans, reminiscing the many times we disagreed with his tough, cruel ways and the many times we felt stifled, unhappy and frustrated with the inflexible system. At the same time, we also celebrate the truly meritocratic system he has built, how everyone, despite gender, religion, race or culture always receive equal opportunities as long as we are willing to work hard. No man is perfect and although I cannot say I love him as a person, I deeply respect him for his single-mindedness and regard him, wholeheartedly, as a brilliant politician. He made tough choices, played the dirty political game darn well, was such a bad arse and gave me the opportunities and life I have. I am always proud to be Singaporean, the city state better known as the tiny vulnerable island with no natural resources of her own but has miraculously flourished beyond imagination because of one man’s brilliant foresight. Rest in peace Sir, I’m grateful to you and your legacy will live on.

Meanwhile, at the other end of the world that I am currently at, there is an explosion of joy and excitement as a new life entered into our world. Stephanie, the host that I am staying with, has just given birth to a beautiful baby girl, Amara yesterday. The household is blanketed with a perpetual sense of jubilation. I could not contain my smiles when I first laid my eyes on the little newcomer, all tiny, vulnerable and precious. Despite having to pander to her needs 24/7 and losing massive amount of sleep, the mood in the household is wonderfully positive and cheery. There is great fascination and hope in creation. New life always signifies wondrous beginnings.

This week has been really introspective. It feels like the essence of life (and death) has been captured and re-packaged all in a few days, accelerating what will probably take us a lifetime to learn.

With every life, there is the inevitable departure. With every death, there is a new beginning. Life is indeed a circle of re-creation.

It prompted me to think of what it means to live a damn good life, and how human beings tend to delay gratification from doing what we love due to fear and self-imposed constraints, when time is constantly ticking and mortality is real. There is no better life than the one we make a stand for.

Co-incidentally, Jon (yea, that’s his real name), an old friend of mine, invited me to contribute to his financial blog last week and I thought it is apt to share it at this juncture. Enjoy the read.

 http://www.bigfatpurse.com/2015/03/hello-i-am-jane-and-here-is-my-story/

Moments (Travels) and Dreams

To break the wordiness of this blog, here are some “gorgeous” pictures of my travels so far. Ironically, I am never a fan of travel blogging, partly because I suck at photography. However, I recently lost a huge stash of photos from some of my previous travels (bye bye the Himalayas, India, Russia, Maldives, France, The Netherlands, Germany, China, USA, Canada, Niagara Falls, South Africa, NZ, Aussieland and gawd knows where else 😦 ) and finally accepted the fact that my memory has limited capacity and will probably fail me one day. So here we go, a travel entry.

In the last 2 weeks, I have had 2 fantastic weekends; I visited one of the places that I endeavored to in my previous bucket list (previous because I stopped having a bucket list, maybe there is no need for a list to validate how well we have lived our lives? ) – Iguazu Falls (or Las Cataratas del Iguazu in Spanish), and I had a fabulous time reuniting with friends in Mendoza last weekend during the Wine Festival.

I made tons of butterfly friends at the waterfalls 😉 Me encanta maripusas!

And of course, the very famous waterfalls. There are more than 200 waterfalls (or las cataratas in Spanish) and they are spectacular.

  

We spent 2 days at the Argentinian side and had a ball of a time reconnecting with nature. I can’t even begin describing how magical it is to just sit on a rock, feel the water from the waterfalls against our skins, see the eagles (and maripusas!) flying above our heads, spend time doing nothing and be present with the moment we are in.

On day 3, we decided to head to the Brazilian side for a panoramic view of the magnificent falls.

       

There is so much water. SO MUCH. It’s amazing just thinking how the sheer power of these falls can generate so much energy for Paraguay and Brazil (Las cataratas are in the middle of Argentina, Paraguay and Brazil).

Understandably, we got massively drenched on all 3 days but were none the happier. We don’t get opportunities to be part of such grandeur everyday 🙂

Last weekend, I zipped off to Mendoza with a couple of friends here to have a reunion with 2 other friends who are currently doing a round-the-world trip (prior to them leaving, we spent a month together here in Rosario). It was the annual wine festival, better known as La Fiesta Nacional de la Vendimia to the Argentines. It is held annually to celebrate the harvest of fruits for Argentina’s finest wines and also to elect the coveted Wine Queen, La Raina de la Vendimia (akin to the Miss Universe pageant). It was a beautiful weekend of wine, fernet (!!!), conversations and friendships.

 

Pictures of vineyards, wine tours and tastings from our cycling trip to the various bodegas.

In addition to the regular activities, there were many other special events due to the wine festival. For a start, we went to the street parade on Friday night where the competing rainas made their first public appearances to screaming crowds and threw fruits to them as part of tradition, symbolising the harvest of fruits for wine making. It was pretty cute 🙂

   

On Saturday night, there was a grand concert happening in the heart of the mountains. It was the highlight of the festival and was sort of a ‘must-go’ for all visitors. But the tickets were too expensive in our opinions and because we were very humble travellers, our troop decided to venture up the montanas ourselves in our quest to watch the concert for free. And boy, was I glad we went with our wild, crazy and adventurous hearts; we met a very friendly and helpful taxista who brought us right into the heart of action, making that night at the mountains truly unforgettable for me.

We arrived to an ocean of Argentines (zilch tourists), all happily nestled on every inch of the slippery slopes they could find. Although there were no proper sitting arrangements or areas available (we were on the mountains after all), everyone came prepared with beach towels, bebidas and portable deck chairs to enjoy the festivities on that warm humid night. In the sea of perspiration and body heat, I have never seen more social grace (everyone gave way, helped each other and had so much consideration for others despite the crowd), smiles, excitement and happiness on the faces of people. I was greatly overwhelmed by the atmosphere of joy and the simplicity of finding happiness in the most unexpected places.

However, the real magic took me by surprise an hour and a half into the show, and made me tear like a baby.

  

The night sky lit up with sparkles of lights as the show came to an end, with myriads of colours exploding right before our eyes. Everyone coo-ed and ahh-ed, and I was fully devouring in the delicious feast of senses. With the backdrop of the city as scenery, watching the flames ignite from the peak of the hills and hearing the massive explosions resonating in my ear drums were kind of surreal. I could not have been more thankful of where I was, there and then.

I did not know what prompted me but I took a moment away from the fireworks and looked into the sea of crowd. And silly, silly me got really emotional as tears welled up in my eyes once again. What I saw greatly moved me – everyone had their heads up towards the night sky, looking intently at the same fireworks, with the same expressions of joy, awe and gentleness on their faces. At that very moment, everyone looked and felt the same to me – people with the same hopes, dreams and desires, appreciating and connected by the same beauty created right before their eyes. It was one of the precious moments where I saw my dream come true – a world where there is no separation or conflicts, just unity, acceptance and love. We are all the same, we live for the same things in life, and we are one.

Someone once told me magic exists everywhere. If we believe in it, we will see it. And I hope you see your hopes, dreams and desires day after day in the most unexpected places, just like I do.

Courage and vulnerability

It has been 6 weeks here in Rosario and I barely felt it. Time flies when we are having fun. I have been incredibly blessed and thankful for my encounters so far. I started my trip with the hope of gaining new connections, experiencing love, passion and an inordinate amount of social connections, and I have been receiving so much more than what I could ask for. As the saying goes, always be careful of what you wished for 😉

That being said, it has been an interesting roller coaster ride of sorts in the past month. My sensations and brain are overloaded with massive amounts of new information coming my way – how people function, how time is a SUPERBLY malleable concept here (I could live here and no one will nag how I am always late), having to get used to living in a less-than-sparkling-clean environment aka Singapore City (an under-functioning economy really does screw the well-beings of its people up) and how people are so much more appreciative of the small things in life that don’t always come from consumerism (sorry, big conglomerates). However, nothing could truly prepare me for the language barrier I thought I will never be faltered by – learning Spanish is truly a BIG challenge for me so far. Apart from being the very few Asians in this city and the countless numbers of curious stares I have gotten from the locals, my inability to speak Spanish fast and well enough have taken a slight emotional toil on me. Simply because I love people, I love to connect, I love to communicate and I want to discover more about the other person I am conversing with. Of course, my long-time friends called The-Fear-Of-Being-Vulnerable and The-Need-To-Look-Good-And-In-Control have obviously been sabotaging my journey to learn the language so far. As silly as it sounds, I have been waking up to mental struggles every day, prepping myself to remain open and foolish, and to absorb every sensation and experience like a dry sponge.

Something as simple as learning a new language needs so much courage and vulnerability. To be willing to bare my imperfections to another stranger, risk being mocked and laughed at, and look stupid. For a long enough time, I had subconsciously refused to risk anything, and I always chose my safety net. Take studying Spanish for example; I had always automatically reverted back to English as my preferred choice of speech right after classes all the time, stubbornly clinging unto my safety rope for that false sense of security. Sure, I felt comforted and at ease but I also felt incredible crappy and whimpy. I didn’t come here to be a wuss. It sucked.

The more we hide our imperfections, the louder they scream. There is no running away.

On a separate note, I cooked for around 10 people for my friends’ farewell dinner party here 2 weeks back. Anyone in Singapore would know that I am hardly a chef back home and I obviously had a zillion self-doubts about my culinary abilities. I incessantly chided and complained about how I had screwed the food up, and my friends finally shut me up with these golden words – “Stop putting yourself down!” – “Jane, stop it! No one will compare you to anyone!” It was like a big (but gentle, I love my sweethearts here) slap in my face and a great wakeup call. In control? Have everything in my own stride? Ya right. My insecurities were screaming at the top of their lungs.

So in the last week, I decided to seriously FUCK it. I am just going to go with the flow and be ME. I don’t want to care how people will perceive me anymore, I just want to get what I want done.

Yesterday night, I went to an open table session where people endeavouring to practise Spanish/English gathered and strangers chatted (think of a social dating activity just that the intention is to improve languages). And I spoke whatever Spanish I could squeeze out of my brain. And while I could only, perhaps, understand 50% of their responses back to me, everyone I spoke to said that for 6 weeks, I had learnt a pretty decent amount of vocabulary. And more importantly, they all understood me! That was such a relief and revelation. This sounds crazy but I was beaming with joy. 🙂

So many times, what we think of the situation often differs from how another thinks or sees. And for the many times I feel inadequate, I should instead, be proud that I have taken this path once again to be in an environment where it’s totally new and novel. To explore out of my comfort zone in my quest to keep learning and understanding. To remain naive, foolish and silly. I am brave. So brave. And damn, it feels so good.

The first post

Hola, welcome to my humble site! My name is Jane and I’m from the sunny island and country of Singapore.

I started this blog partly with the intention to document my travels (I’m leaving for Argentina without an agenda of what’s next), but primarily to share my thoughts, experiences and learnings from my interaction with people all over the world. I deeply resonate with the ideologies of humanism, and have an unfaltering faith in humanity. I am a firm believer that if every human being is willing to put his heart and soul into understanding another fellow human being (who is actually always more similar than different, if we take the time to learn and empathise), the world will be filled with love, hopes, dreams, desires.

Everyone deserves the liberation to be who they are and who they want to be. We only live once. So let’s love, give, accept and be free.

I decided that for a first post, I will share an article that I had contributed to a friend’s Facebook page called The Firestarters Collective. Started by a group of dream seekers who no longer believe in the pursue of mindless gratifications either from corporate or social expectations, they seek to promote the freedom and courage to dream big, go with the heart and live a life worth pursuing. So here you go, enjoy 🙂

My story

“When Pearlyn first approached me to do the next writeup for the series, I jumped in without thinking, enthusiastically letting my heart led in the decision. I was all riled up over sharing the South American journey I will be embarking two months from now. I thought, piece of cake to just share my thoughts and dreams, isn’t it?

And then I realised – hell no!! Ironically, I have been procrastinating and delaying writing this article thereafter. I always couldn’t find “a good time”, didn’t have “the feel” or simply did not know where to start. And I had endless “should I do in the morning or night” or “how should I start and end the article” or “what if I have a mental block”…yader yader…Until today. Today, I decided, ok enough. Stop wussing out let’s get started! So here I am.

Co-incidentally (or otherwise), the above paragraph sums up how I came to my decision of quitting my job (my boss has very kindly offered me a gap year instead so I am very grateful) and travelling through South America next year – implusive, passionate, but not without a fair deal of mental agony and self torture 😛

Hello! My name is Jane and that was a pretty apt introduction of who I am. I’m known as “The Crazy Girl” to some friends and “The Queen of Hypothetical Situations” to others (no prizes for guessing why).

I’ve always loved performance arts since young – I remembered I had my first singing performance when I was 5 years old and my then-teacher commented that I had the natural flair of performance, an open book when it comes to expressions. I was in the school choir pretty much all of school life and singing is naturally in my blood.

When I was 13 and first got introduced to Shakespeare in my English Literature class, my love for theatre blossomed and I decided to break away from the norm and went to the only Junior College then that offered Theatre Studies and Drama as an examination subject. Never mind the bus rides that lasted 1.5 hours each way to and fro home, never mind being in a new environment where I had zero friends; I went with my heart and that was reason enough. That little voice inside always has the answer.

The next two years were amazing. I was a full-time theatre student, part-time singer, and zero-time college student. I spent all my time in the studios, rehearsing scripts, analysing plays, thinking of artistic directıons, like how I should design my stage and work my lights/sounds. Otherwise I will be burying my face in musical scores, attempting to sight-read, trying to be pitch-perfect and understanding the nuances to what make the pieces so beautiful.

I found my first love in musical theatres and excelled performing roles that were expressive and strong. I was carefree, curious and lived each day with wide-eyed wonderment. The sense of naivety was beautiful and I lived each day feeling alive. And thanks to teenage angst, the emotional roller coaster of joys, pain, excitement and disappointment has been nothing less than intense. I wouldn’t have done it any other way.

I’ve always had a jarring curiosity for understanding people too. When I read scripts, I always asked myself reasons for the characters’ actions and what went on in his/her minds. What motivated him/her to do what he/she did. When I interacted with people, I try (sometimes too hard) to read the motives behind people’s actions. Whenever I meet people who are vastly different from me be it in terms of cultures, backgrounds and social makeups, I get an overwhelming desire to understand their lives and understand their come-froms. I have always believed that people function the way they do for a reason and understanding why they do what they do is important.

When my family wanted me to take a respectable regular desk-bound job at a government agency (I reckon a dream come true for many Singaporeans) during the school holidays, I excitedly took on a bartendering/waitressing job at a bar instead. My come-from was simple – I wanted to meet people. The curiosity was overwhelming.

When I was 18, I remembered I had a crazy idealistic concept of forming a global village. I thought it will be a really cool social experiment to bring together a group of children from every continent in this world, bring them up without preconceived notions of social/cultural discrimination and have each individual be brought up as an equal. I truly believe in the concept of being a global citizen and that to me, was a great way to eradicate discrimination and conflicts of any sense.

While I had endless dreams and visions of the world I wanted to create and work towards, at some point in time, I begun selling myself out. I basically, started giving in to societal pressures and ended taking the path of the “Singaporean Dream”.

As much as I was grateful for the education I received in high school, the beliefs of the Chinese school I attended was never about attaining dreams – it was about being a great moral citizen, and putting the community and family before self. Even though I was largely a moderated rebel in school, the teachings did make me feel guilty when I have these crazy dreams. I thought I was being really selfish to have a different mindset or opinion of what I want to do.

To add, I also grew up in a very humble, traditional, middle-class Chinese home. We made do with little, but I was never deprived. My Mom was both a paternal and maternal figure, doing the best she could to bring my brother and me up in my father’s absence (he was hardly home). That being said, it also made me realised how hard she had been working to pay the bills and bring us up, and the least I could do is to be sensible in my life choices.

As such it came as a surprise to many that right after my passionate time in Junior College, I opted for a Business Degree in University instead – I told myself the it’s time to moderate the fun and get real with life. I need a decent degree. However, I refused to let go of my loves, I was still singing, both in choirs and jam bands, was acting, both semi-professionally and for schools. My time was stretched but it made me alive.

When I started work, the first few being in a bank, I got MASSIVELY bored being desk bound. Sure I was good at my job because it was people-oriented and I earned a decent amount, but it was not enough to keep the curious wide-eyed wanderluster locked in place for long.

When the chance came for me to globe-trot with Singapore Airlines as an air stewardess, I jumped at it. After all, this is the same girl that took off for Europe immediately after her Mom handed the rights of her bank account to her. I only came back 5kgs lighter and looking like a malnourished kid after I depleted every single cent off my bank account, but I had never been happier.

It was a wonderful 4 years as I travelled, explored and experienced life as I never had. And it seemed perfect then – I managed to reach moderation, no? Here I was, earning a decent amount, I could still help pay for the household bills, I could save and I could travel! And I even gave myself a new goal: once I saved to a desired amount, I would quit flying and study musical theatre. Everything seemed perfect.

Just that on the day I reached that goal, I did not quit to study musical theatre. I quit and went to a ground job. I chickened out.

I sold out.

I sold out because I told myself I’m too old for this shit. I sold out because I told myself that I should stop being idealistic and get real with things. I sold out because I thought I could save the money and get a nice swanky apartment instead. I sold out because I did not want to leave my parents behind in Singapore because my brother was already overseas. I sold out because I was scared. I sold out because I lost faith in myself and I did not think I could do it anymore.

I told myself that my desire for the unfulfilled dream will go away as I grow older. After all, I was nearing my big 3, had a relationship and the only logical thing to do was to settle down and lead the Singaporean life that everyone else was having.

I felt like I should stop sticking out like sore thumb and just make life easier for myself. That I should not waste anymore time hallucinating dreams that were far-fetched. So I trapped myself in the Singaporean Dream, most willingly and obligingly, by myself.

I bought a modest car, I got myself a horde of designer bags and watches. I was on my way to saving up for a nice condominium. It seemed great, I was finally on par with my white-collared peers, working in professional jobs that allowed a really comfortable life. I did not fail. I was doing my parents proud.

Just that while all that was happening, my dreams did not die. They were stubbornly persisting, as stubbornly as I was resisting them. What a futile struggle.

The thing is, I am great at moderation. I justified my Singaporean Dream by being in jobs that I had interest in. The last job I held was doing Learning and Development for a reputable MNC and I excelled in facilitation. I revelled in the belief that I was living my vision by developing my colleagues to their fullest potentials.

However my heart kept telling me I wanted more.

I wanted absolute freedom. Not in moderation, but in absolute full faith, unreasonably and illogically.

Truth be told, I was afraid to take the plunge initially because it really didn’t make sense. However at some point, I realised breaking free from chains, without fearing the “what-ifs” and “what-nots”, will never make sense, and it’s ok. I felt like I have come to the edge of the cliff after all these years, and my choice was simply, to jump or stay stationary.

So I decided to quit my job and go to South America. Why South America? Because I’ve never been there and I’ve always wanted to be there. I always have a hunch that I’ll love the place, people, culture, attitudes and vibes to bits.

Of course life is not a bed of roses, I faced resistance, the biggest one from my traditional father who thought that I was the most unfilial child on Earth to give up a comfortable salary, a life of stability to venture into the world of unknown (it doesn’t help that SA is known for her crimes). My mother and brother, although accepting, are obviously worried too.

Truth be told, I am torn. I feel extremely guilty for being the free-spirit I am on some days, and for not being the daughter/sister my parents/brother would have loved for me to be. That I had to be such a trouble and a worry to them. I’ve lived half of my life tormented by this conflict day in day out.

But like what I’ve said, I’ve come to the end of the cliff. I either jump or I bury myself deeper into my hole.

Just last weekend, I had a massive fallout with my father for my decision and I felt like the biggest bitch for creating discord and unhappiness in my family. I hated myself for my selfishness. But for the first time in my life, I decided: so be it. Let me be selfish. Let me be me. I have finally accepted myself for who I am. And I can only hope my family, especially my father, will one day accept me for who I am.

For now, I want to fly. No more clipped wings. I want to be the global citizen I am and fulfil my global dream. To learn about cultures. To form connections. To live amongst others. To promote peace and acceptance. To learn new dances. To sing my heart out. To live a life that I never dared to dream.

Of course I’m sure there will be days where I’ll be scared but as what my dance teacher @karen lacey always reminded me when I’m in the middle of dance routines, “Don’t be afraid! Go for it! When you finally do it then it wouldn’t be scary anymore!” I will only experience new levels when I conquer my fears. Thank you Karen for your weekly tough love – it has created a big impact in me.

So here’s my story. Go with our hearts. We only live once. Let’s live a damn good one. What’s yours?”