The Importance of Being Brave

Yesterday, we ended our trip around Peninsula Malaysia by watching the sunset in Port Dickson. It was a very romantic notion. Although the sea wasn’t very clean and pieces of wood kept sweeping upon our feet, the beach was still beautiful. The sunset was breath taking. And the company was awesome.

As I tried to capture the moment on my Nikon, my mind was already running with plenty of thoughts about what I was going to write for this blog post. I was going to write about the jokes that we shared, the blunders that we made, the bed that was forced to fit four people.

Then I changed my mind.

After watching the sunset, as the day grew darker, my friends went to change their shorts. After playing in the sea, all our shorts were sandy which kinda itches.

But we had to change outside because the toilets were locked. I have no idea why the public toilet has to be locked at 8.oo p.m. because I don’t think 8.oo p.m. is late in anybody’s schedule, but the toilet was locked none the same.

So what they did was they gathered in a corner that was surrounded by three walls outside the toilet and covered the front with a towel. There were six of us girls.

As one by one went to change in the makeshift changing corner, we heard three loud knockings from the other side of the wall. I think it was knocking or it could have been something crashing – I’m really not so sure. It all happened so fast.

There were the loud knocks followed by Ee Lyn, Kimberly and I turning back to see Vee Vien scrambling over, looking frightened. We weren’t even a metre away.

No we weren’t frightened by the knocks. It could have been a cat.

But barely 30 seconds after Vee Vien ran over and as we surveyed the site, a man, clad in a singlet, shorts and helmet walked out from the other side of the toilet. We stared. Oh, we stared hard.

And 5 seconds into our staring competition, he SNIGGERED.

I swear he went “Hehehehehe.”

And that was cue for us to run.

We screamed and ran towards the boys who were guarding our bags.

The man walked over later on as innocently as he could and tried to explain (and he looked pissed though I haven’t a clue why!) while scolding heavens knows what.

So at one end, there were Siong Lung, Kimberly and Lee Weei, bravely confronting the strange man and the other end, the rest of them, packing up everybody’s bags, ready to take our leave as soon as possible.

And there was me, standing in between the two groups, the two scenes, contemplating. I wanted to step in beside Siong Lung and listen to what the man has to say. I wanted to hear his explanation, catch any discrepancies and decide for myself his innocence (or guilt). I wanted to have it first-hand.

But I remained motionless.

Of all the things that I am afraid of, I couldn’t believe that dealing with people could one of them fears. I couldn’t accept my own lack of action when I wasn’t even a victim.

I wonder what sort of circumstance would have to change for me to not fear confronting this man who had frightened the living daylights out of my friends and I.

Siong Lung asked later whether we were traumatised. I’d say I wasn’t. Not by him. Rather, I am shocked by my own cowardice.

I wish I had had the courage to stand beside my three friends, even if I wasn’t to say anything. And I really hope that in any other circumstances, I would have acted differently.

But all that aside, praise God that nothing unwanted actually happened. Instead, I’ve learnt something new about myself and that maybe, sometimes it’s not that the victim doesn’t want to kick the aggressor’s balls, it’s just that the body and mind don’t have the same coordination.

Dreams I dream for you

I have long noticed that my strength and confidence, especially in the area of public speaking come not from the crowd’s reaction, but from the faith my friends have in me.

I remember my very first public speaking experience. I was standing on a podium trying to recite my primary school’s doa. I was small (not in size – I was never small that way) and I couldn’t lift my head up from that miserable looking, crumpled sheet of paper I held in my hands long enough to meet the eyes of my audience for fear of forgetting my lines (even though I'd spent the last 10 minutes replaying all the words in my head). A year after that, I found myself once again in that same spot. Except I wasn’t reading the doa then: I was about to read an eight minute speech on peer pressure. I remember how badly my hands shook and how when the bell rung on the seventh minute, I froze.

Then came that fateful debating year in which I was forced to learn the wonders of palm cards after an embarrassing morning of debate session with my hands trembling like nobody’s business while holding large A4 sheets of notes which unfortunately, amplified the vibrations for all to see. So I had to learn some things the harder way.

I'd come a long way since then. But the important point that is worth noting is that I only managed to overcome that initial stage fright because somehow I know that in the midst of the crowd seated below, laughed as they might at my Parkinson-diseased hands, were friends who believed in me. People and souls who believed I had the ability to deliver a good speech, a good debate. And because they believed, I believed too.

Now I have not the ability to write a composition that can properly and justifiably and effectively capture the entire events of last week’s campaign for Student Council. It was a tiring week, yes, with late nights and busy mornings. I had to deliver the same manifesto with a cheesy ending to 10 different EALD classes.

And as though that wasn’t awkward enough, I recited the same thing 5 times to Miss Julia, thrice to Mr Oliver and twice to Miss Maria. I believe Miss Julia must have memorized my speech. If not, she had got to be rather bored with it. Haha.

Today was the Election Day. We had a more effective mock EC here in Sunway so results were out in no less than 2 hours after voting. Well, we only had half an hour for voting anyway.

Eric bagged President and Katryne bagged Treasurer.

I suppose my cheesy manifesto wasn’t enough to touch the hearts of the Jan intake.

But though there weren’t a lot of consolations (which made all the little consolations count even more!), I had the biggest surprise with those six pieces of green coloured papers, folded in some complex origami pattern which appeared miraculously out of thin air on my bed after I got out from my shower. My eyes actually glittered a little. :’)

You see the darkness, I see the spark.

You know your failures, but I know your heart.

That’s the excerpt of the lyrics from Avalon’s Dreams I Dream for You. And it refers to God, of course. But I think in this context, the “I” refers to a lot of other people as well.

Today I write to thank God for the experience, for the support and friends who have been sensitive enough to sense my need.

So I’ve lost an election.

But I’ve gained so much more.

(Besides, Yi Hui bought me Cadbury Boost!!!! :D:D)