Being Busy

There has been a flurry of activities lately, and not all of them good. I suppose it's always difficult to clear the mess of the old guard and to start afresh with the new. Nevertheless, I'm glad for this whole learning experience and I'm fairly confident that this project is something that will influence my "future" - whatever that is.

Recently, I have had a friend, let's call this person B, talk to me about 'losing' a friendship, and how that friend, let's call this person C, feel that B has been distant and how B does not seem to care anymore. B texts me, and tells me how in reality, the friendship, like a relationship doesn't seem to resonate anymore. B has been trying to remain cordial (like still greet in corridors and saying hi) despite personal feelings - since C also has done something that made B feel like their friendship wasn't what he thought it would be.

So all the cover-ups and politically correct excuses later, C finally confronts B and demands why B has been constantly "busy" and not been hanging out. At the back of my mind, something just didn't make sense.

I don't know if it is C's reluctance to take a hint, or simply due to innocent ignorance, but when someone says to you more than once that he/she is busy, it probably means he/she is too busy for you. I often take the "busy" excuse or hint, whichever way you look at it, a little more personally because it's a sign that this person no longer sees you as a priority. If they care, they would plan you into their schedule. It sounds perfectly clinical and businesslike - after all, why should our friendships/relationships be "planned"? Where's the spontaneity in that!

In reality, demands are competing and friendships take time and effort to build and maintain. Like the SIMS 3 game would inform us, too long a time without any form of communication does break down relationships.

Personally, I'm quite a diva when it comes to such things. That is, I prefer if people approach me to ask if I'm free, than the other way round. It just feels like I'm important to you and that I mean something to you. Of course, I'm not excluding the possibility that I don't do the same for others. I usually ask people out more often than not. Then again, it's a matter of perspective isn't it?

What about some people who are truly occupied, you might ask? Well, I do believe that is more often the case. However, every task should end by a certain due date right? Regardless it being 1 hour, 2 days, or 3 months or 4 years, if the relationship really means something to you, it should be no obstacle to always plan ahead. If you don't, and get swarmed with projects after projects - that is a sign of a greater trouble isn't it? Perhaps, we're not allocating enough time for ourselves to connect with others. HAHA, then again, others are also not allocating time enough to connect with you - it goes both ways.

This whole "I'm busy, let's talk again" but don't get back to you situation is a sign to let go and neither party should be at fault at that. People change, and the image we had of them will forever form that part of a memory that is irretrievable by them. However, we must also acknowledge that the person we see in front of us now, is not the same individual we knew before. Perhaps they are trying to protect our feelings, perhaps they really need some time away from you, or even forget that they have a social life. Nevertheless, I'm a big believer of the fact that if people want to do it, come hell or high water, they'll get it done.

I'm busy, but only to selective individuals.

theatre and people

I haven't had the time to write or think much these days because I just wrapped up my most recent theatre project "me, now" sponsored by the Exxon Mobil Campus Concert series. It's a privilege to be working with this group of talented young people - people who have had experience with theatre to people who just started out. As my directorial debut, I am incredibly fortunate to have "beginner's luck"and with the advise of mentors like Huzir Sulaiman, and of course, bouncing ideas with my first-mate Koon Hui, it's been generally a very rewarding journey.

I guess this experience both humbled me and opened my eyes in many ways. I have learnt from my actors - via various theatre games - their hardships and their joys/insecurities. It really speaks to me the different types of people we have on earth, and one can't help but feel, we really are children of the earth in some ways - connected yet disconnected from each other. I guess theatre is also about narratives and stories, and the way to tell it in a way that people can connect with the story and through it, with each other. It's not so much as performance, but a community and in Ben Anderson's words - an imagined community. I suppose for a good 45mins, my actors have successfully reached out to an audience and they had a story to tell, they became part of a transcendent part of time for that period. It will be the most magical moment, and despite waxing poetics about the whole experience, my dear readers, I apologise for boring you.

In a way this experience is also bittersweet (like my play HAHA!), because as rehearsal times wanes and the performance time rises, I felt a strange and tearing pain. I really wished my mother would be in the audience, and it should also be so fitting that I had an empty seat beside me. I could almost imagine her sitting beside me, holding my hand and telling me how proud she was of me - and I wished to thank her for believing in me despite the setbacks, the youthful uncertainties...She loved theatre because she loved life, and I know this moment would have meant a lot to her too...and that knowledge saddens me in this complex dialectical relationship of knowing what she would want, and being sad because she can't be here which in turn forms new knowledge of what she would think, and so on....

I don't know why this production was so emotional for me, I suppose in some ways, these lines from the (adapted) script hit me hard:

Domina: I...really wanted her ... to come...[begins to cry]
Jack: Hush
Domina: I really...need her, kor.
Jack: ... (quietly) me too. You've got your kor here!
Domina: I know. (sadly) But it's still not enough. It isn't.

I suppose I have been grateful to all my friends who have been there supporting me through difficult times, but when this line grew on me, it just suddenly hit me all over again that it really isn't enough - because everyone is different and there is no way anyone can replace the person you've lost - friend, family or foe.

I am thankful and yet woeful at this production, and deep down in my heart that was the way I would have wanted it - this complex blend of emotions that don't always go together, the tears of happiness mixed in with tears of bitterness. I don't suppose it'll make a good story that leaves people feeling cathartic, but alas, as a director - perhaps my intention is not to entertain, but to instigate.

the irreconcilability of being cosmopolitan

Recently I had a discussion with my best friend about a job opportunity overseas, and whether he should take it up. It was an executive training programme, one that is bound to take him to far - both geographically and personally. However, he was held back because his partner will not be able to join him as a spouse, given how gay marriages/unions are not recognised in this business arrangement. Yet another older discussion about my friend's fiancé being sent to France for 2 years military training. She is a school teacher and is also bonded to complete her contract. As a result, she may not be able to join her husband overseas, and given the long time apart - as a newly wedded couple - the pain is unimaginable for most people.

Then, the discussions I have with aspiring undergraduates who are working their best in both academic and non-academic work, to be able to secure jobs that will allow them to have an overseas postings. The very archetypal of what our "gahmen" wants in an highly-educated cosmopolitan Singaporean. Yet these stories to me, present a very alarming contradiction.

There is an irreconcilable personal cost that comes with being a "cosmopolitan". That cost often befalls those of the middle-income group, people who do not have the means to travel back and forth often for work/personal reasons. Furthermore, the promise of a higher pay often is a painful offset to the things they are reminded to give up if they decide to take up the job. It might be romantic to see it this way, but this personal cost is not one that many people are willing to pay - especially those who have amorous or familial roots in a place. People are rendered immobile because they are either committed to their families, or partners, or simply, not having enough resources to move. Who are we stereotyping, when we say, we want more Singaporeans abroad? 

I find this argument very troubling, because it dehumanises the experience of the person. In reality, no one is really entirely mobile, no matter the skill level. There will always be a cost, and that cost is not captured in economic census, or business accounts. When we pay someone a high salary to move, to uproot those relations, we literally pay for them to give up their lives for the company/corporation. Isn't this just another form of modern slavery, albeit a slightly more glamorous version and comfortable version of the chains that bind us ever increasing to the developmentalist notion of "economic growth at all cost". I am perhaps simplifying the picture here, and there will always be successful cases of people who have it all. I don't have the figures of those cases, or in fact they are the minority. However, reading about the mixed reactions of Philippinoes who "succeeded" in Vancouver, their material successes came at too high a personal cost - they are not quite sure what they want anymore, and if giving up all that is worth the more comfortable life they are leading now.

While we may uproot ourselves to another country, and form new roots there, very much like how our new migrants have done in Singapore, it is often a long-drawn process that takes a lot of sacrifices. In Singapore, the notion of leaving home is never really as perforated as US or UK. In fact, we often have "duty" to family, and the notion of being responsible to one's family and loved ones is strong. Leaving behind our family completely is unthinkable in most cases. This complex cultural trait is what brings me to the next issue. Is that, if we want a strong Singaporean identity, and to make (and I quote a recent minister's statement) diversity work towards a common goal, is a task akin to finding a unicorn in the woods. If Singaporeans really do find no more roots here, and leave to never come back, there will be no common [national] goal to speak of, only a personal one. Ironically, being rooted here pushes our identity further, and what is made here - in place - is exceptionally important. Being cosmopolitan and being a Singaporean is a paradox.

It disturbs me to no end, that we aspire to be enslaved, and some even hungrily want it even - that they will do anything it takes to get that job. Just because it's a goal, doesn't mean it's a meaningful and admirable goal - slowly but surely…it chips away something in our hearts and minds, that we forget who we were before all of that. What are we really chasing? What should be one's priorities? What is the use of money, if you have no one to share it with, meaningfully?