alien life

it's not a matter of where, when, why or what. the most wonderful part of being on vacation is never having to look at the clock, never having to let the ticking rule, or ruin, your day. i wake up when the body tells me so (or when the noisy monster makes a ruckus during his morning rituals), i eat when the need arise (though that need seem to arise more often than the regular three meals of the day) and i go wherever my feet take me and stay until the little ones start whining. it's such a welcome release from my daily routines, which are heavily dictated by the hands of the clock. it's 12pm, i have to drop all the things and be somewhere. it's 1pm, if i'm not at the dining table stuffing my face, my hand phone will ring with someone shrieking down the line 'why are you not eating yetttttttttt?'. i drive like a lunatic from one place to another to meet these ridiculous restraints and perform routines like clockwork. it’s not for the carefree soul that is so me.

i enjoy roaming the streets, not just to look into the windows and stare at another world, but to revel in the safe and secure surrounding that is theirs. i no longer have to be paranoid when the roaring of the motorbike comes up fast and furious from behind. i only realize how hardened i have become when i instinctively reached for the backpack on my back as a group gathered around me to see the exhibits in one of the tourist attractions. the warm, smiling and welcoming faces of the waiting staff is a far cry from the ‘i’ve lost a million bucks’ foul black-faced ones we have serving our many eateries over here, spoiling my appetite even before i have a look in the menu. and for those sales-ladies who telepathically know that the shoe size i wanted is out of stock without the tiresome hassle of checking or who don’t bother to move their bum from their stylish pose to locate an item because they are all gathered to discuss the latest agenda in the all-important apec meeting, kudos to you lot. our country cannot be what we are today without your generous contribution. oh, sorry, my frustration for the ways of our world seem to be running a little out of control today.

when I am walking on their streets, i am reminded of the many people who wish to make this safe and organized country their new home. it is certainly appealing; the coordinated transportation system, no build-wherever-you-like-and-as-high-as-you-like-as-long-as-you-pay-me-money skyscrapers and sardine-packed condominium parcels, no warped enforcement system where they go after the accuser instead of the accused, policemen who don’t listen to ipod when they are working or have a penchant for coffees, pieces of cakes the size of your face (i’m talking about a piece here, not the whole cake!) and beautiful countryside. and you can even dress up as rabbits and ridicule the prime minister without being thrown in jail and left to rot, if that's your cup of tea. as with all countries, there are pros and then there are cons. there is the so-dry-your-skin-will-look-like-crocodile’s-and-your-nose-will-bleed, the even-a-hawker-stall-style-fried-rice-will-cost-three-times-as-much, the very erratic weather and the very very pricey tax system. and be glad you are not of indigenous heritage, or you’ll be victimized all the same. then again, any country that makes it a law that you don’t have to wash your car can’t be half bad. even if yours is dusty and dirty, be comforted that the porsche down the road looks the same and pretty soon, nobody can tell that it’s a very expensive imported sports car from under all those layers of mud and dirt.

so, will I think of emigrating?

when i returned to home soil again and switched on the handphone, there were several missed calls and messages left on the service. because of what i can only presume is inefficient roaming service and the long flight back home, mum has been unable to contact me for several days and is close to losing it. will my presence be missed anywhere else in the world? i seriously doubt so. it's a very nice and warm feeling to be wanted and missed, to mean a difference in someone's world and to matter.

home is where the heart is.