I think I’m finding the disparity from within.

When I was young, everything was easy and carefree. Life was bliss. Without a care in the world, my parents were my world. You know how you always ran to your Mom or Dad when you fell, or that teacher at school wasn’t very nice to you? You could always run back to your parents.

Then came the time I didn’t want to. I think it started in middle school, and I realized that I didn’t want to, I couldn’t talk to my parents about anything. First it was age, then it was culture. I got older, then went to the American school, and was inculcated with the ideology that I am my own person. I am a free man. Now I’m not saying that there isn’t still the love for parent and child in that culture, but independence comes sooner. At 18, you leave the house and start supporting yourself, and then you have your family, you drift apart.

In Asian culture, you’re supposed to live at home till you get married, even when you’re working. And, when you get married and have children, your parents stay with you and you take care of them till they pass on. Filial piety has a different meaning.

While I might have grown up in that environment and that culture, I’ve drifted away to that more independent and self-reliant concept.

Therein lies the discrepancy.

More often than not, my Mom and I bicker about this or that, we argue about my grades or discuss my lack of organization. I think it’s more than that. It’s a different generation, it’s a different culture, it’s a different perspective.

But it wasn’t always like that. Once upon a time, I was that cute little Asian boy who looked up at his Mom, and Dad with those eyes that would do whatever Mom and Dad wanted him to do. Then things changed. I grew up.

Here’s the question though. Do I really want to?

I’m not saying I want to move back in with my parents and live with them till they die, but I also want a different relationship. I want a relationship where we know and understand each other. I just finished a movie, The Descendants, where it takes a tragedy in the family for them to realize that screw-ups don’t really matter, that we all make mistakes, and we all have our faults.

So what though? So what if we mess up and piss each other off? At the end of it all, we’re family. Remember Lilo and Stitch, where Lilo says "Ohana means family, family means nobody gets left behind. Or forgotten."

I’ll be spending the summer at home, the first time I’ve been home for longer than a month since I graduated from high school. It seems so foreign to me, because my friends are my family now too. My parents want me to go home earlier, but I’m struggling with that. I don’t know anyone there, and I don’t know if I can spend that much time there. I'm excited tone with my parents, and my uncles and aunt, but my friends mean the world to me too. 


A huge part of this dilemma, I think, is that I'm an only child. Being an only child makes you that way. Your friends are your family, because you don't have siblings who you grow up with or rely on. It kinda sucks sometimes. I have a few friends who I can count on one hand, who are like my siblings, thank goodness for them. But that's the thing, my friends are my support system. 

Isn’t that terrible though? Not wanting to be at home? I’d rather be with my friends, because it’s more fun. Family is fun too! Who chooses that? Maybe that’s because part of my thinks I’ll find my wife if I spend the summer in Provo, then that’s where I’ll have my own family, I’ll have security in that.

That’s it, I’m scared, I’m scared of not having a family. Because what happens when my parents pass away? When my aunts and uncles are gone? Who will I have? I think there comes a point in life where you look behind, and you look forward and think, where am I going? Who's going to be there by my side in the future? 


I feel so comfortable in Provo now, it is my home. But, Singapore is still where I grew up, and is my home too. I guess that at the end of the day, the people make the place. 


I want my independence. I want to be my own person and make my own decisions. At the same time, family is everything, I love them So, I'm eventually going to have to reconcile both of them. 

Had a great day wandering around the market in L'Isle sur la Sorgue.

It was a short train ride there, and was spectacularly beautiful and quaint. They sold everything from fresh-baked macaroons, to table linens and moving pieces of art. Of course, spices and fresh produce were also abundant, and women's clothing stalls were everywhere. 

Weird tomatoes. 

There's a river that rounded the village, and a stream that flows through the center. 

While at lunch, there was a family of four that needed a table, but the tables were spilt two and two; we volunteered to move, so they could sit together. No big deal right?

Well, apparently since we had done such a nice thing, the family next to us (who had helped us with talking to the waitress), paid for our meal! They said they did that because we had been so nice! That was a surprise! Not really knowing what to do except thank them, I gave them my card and told them to give me a call if they ever visited the States.

Four hours later, we were walking around, lost and tired with relatively heavy shopping bags. Realizing we had missed the train, and had a little over an hour to kill, we started wandering around the village again, and got lost. We were worried that we were going to miss the next train back to Avignon and started panicking slightly.

Unable to speak French, we found out that even the cops had given the wrong directions.

Panicking slightly, we flagged down a car on the road we were walking on. Pointing to the map, we asked them where the train station was. After determining they knew what exactly we were asking them, they told us to get into their car. They would take us there!

We gratefully excepted, squeezing into their compact European car with their son in his car seat. He couldn't have been more 2 or 3 years old. He must have been wonderding what the heck two random Asians were doing with him in the car. A few minutes later, they dropped us off at the station and drove off.

Would I have done that if I had been approached in a similar situation. I'd like to think I would have, but would I be too afraid, too wary?

A lot of the time, I think we view the world as an evil and cruel place, where people can't be trusted. Watching the news and reading the papers, it certainly seems that way. But, I think somethings it behooves us to think the best of people, to see them as good and caring, always willing to help out another person. Of course, if you feel uneasy or someone is pointing a knife at ou, there's no harm in thinking ill or fear then.

But, I think altruism can exist. It must exist. It is on that foundation that we are able to build a just and moral world. There are those who do good because it is the right thing to do. No questions asked.

Those two families today taught me a few lessons, among them gratitude, generosity, trust and kindness. When they saw something they felt was right, they were grateful and generous. When the other family saw someone in need, they helped without suspicion or wanting recognition. They helped because they wanted to.

The memories of our trip will eventually fade. I don't know the names of any of those people, but the lessons they taught me today will forever be imprinted on my mind and in my heart.

Weather in Avignon was still ridiculously bipolar. But...

The scenery on the way down to Avignon was BEAUTIFUL.

I still have visions and dreams from movies I've watched and books I've read over the years of people backpacking through europe. I'm sure it's not as glamorous as they make it out to be, but I still want to try it out, walking along the country roads.

I want to breathe in the fresh country air and watch the colors change through the season, I want to stop in soe local tavern where we can't speak the language and try what they put in front of us. There's something exciting to that mystery. 

Austria, oh, I really want to hike through the foothills of Austria.

Most of all, though, I want to take a break and take a step back, so that I can see where I've been and take a loom at where I'm going.

Need to save some money first though...

So, who's up for the trip?

I'm impressed.

Whenever I'm around Europeans, I always realize just how underdressed I am, whether walking down the street or sitting down at a restaurant to eat. They have fantastic dress sense, and the clothes they sell - let's just say their store fronts are a lot more impressive.

They're also a lot more expensive. Sigh.

One day.

I know clothing doesn't make a person, not by far. But, I think it does reflect on a society as a whole that they (yes, might be a little more snooty at times), but also carry themselves better. A good portion of the time, your outward appearance is an inward reflection of your self-appreciation, of being happy with who you are. You just take care of yourself better.

Those pea coats and well-fitted shirts are also helping me with a goal I have to trim some of that flab off the tummy this summer, for a happier, less chubby me.

I want to dress better, I need to dress better, stop dressing so casual, maybe that's why I'm so casual all the time.

The weather here is a paradox.

I thought I left it when I left Provo, but I guess not.

While Provo goes from sun to sleet in a matter of hours, Paris hasn't been spectacular either. 

We were wandering around as it was sunny, then it got windy, then sunny, then the wind started blowing paintings away from a stall we were at. Oh, then it started raining. Ten minutes later, it was sunshiny once again.

Provo and Paris couldn’t be more different. The people, the food, the culture. But there is one thing they have in common – the bipolar weather. I think the French handle it a lot better, though.

While the Americans run around in panic when the weather turns foul and curse the heavens, the French put on their trench coats, open their umbrellas, and hold their head high as the Mother Nature tries ever so hard to drive them back, always in vain.

When the weather was beautiful. 

Bipolar weather and well-dressed people aside, I love both places. Looking forward to Avignon more though. 

Sunny. 

The French are amazing.

Their food is delicious, their women are beautiful, and their language literally melts you when one of those sultry women open their mouths. Oh, and everyone dresses well too, I mean everyone.

The French are disgusting.

I have never seen so many people smoke before, from your average 50 year old man with a pot belly and balding hair, to the female executives in their business attire, they;re smoking, outside buildings, in bathrooms, outside the Cathedral of Notre Dame. How do people live?

It gets really sketchy when you see a girl who can't be more than 16 walking by you with her Mom, cigarette in hand. No, not the Mom, the teenage girl.

What is their obsession with smoking? I don't get it! What makes everyone smoke in rain, in shine, in your face?!! I really think the French are wonderful, I really do. They've been really nice, except for the snotty receptionist that checked us in at our hotel.

A cigarette tree, an example of many on Parisian streets, this one right by St. Michel's Blvd. 

I just wish they would cut down on their smoking. I think it would help them plenty. Maybe Sarkozy would stay in power then, huh? His brain wouldn't be so muddled by the smoke he breathes in from his citizens.

No, not their cars, themselves.

I don't often cut and paste a whole speech, but this really inspired me, and provided me with a fresh perspective on what matters most, and what we should do to pursue our dreams. I hope this gives you a fresh perspective on life and inspires you as much as it has inspired me. 

Written by Adrian Tan, author of The Teenage Textbook (1988), was the guest-of-honour at a recent NTU convocation ceremony. This was his speech to the graduating class of 2008.

—–

I must say thank you to the faculty and staff of the Wee Kim Wee School of Communication and Information for inviting me to give your convocation address. It’s a wonderful honour and a privilege for me to speak here for ten minutes without fear of contradiction, defamation or retaliation. I say this as a Singaporean and more so as a husband.

My wife is a wonderful person and perfect in every way except one. She is the editor of a magazine. She corrects people for a living. She has honed her expert skills over a quarter of a century, mostly by practising at home during conversations between her and me.

On the other hand, I am a litigator. Essentially, I spend my day telling people how wrong they are. I make my living being disagreeable.

Nevertheless, there is perfect harmony in our matrimonial home. That is because when an editor and a litigator have an argument, the one who triumphs is always the wife.

And so I want to start by giving one piece of advice to the men: when you’ve already won her heart, you don’t need to win every argument.

Marriage is considered one milestone of life. Some of you may already be married. Some of you may never be married. Some of you will be married. Some of you will enjoy the experience so much, you will be married many, many times. Good for you.

The next big milestone in your life is today: your graduation. The end of education. You’re done learning.

You’ve probably been told the big lie that “Learning is a lifelong process”and that therefore you will continue studying and taking masters’ degrees and doctorates and professorships and so on. You know the sort of people who tell you that? Teachers. Don’t you think there is some measure of conflict of interest? They are in the business of learning, after all. Where would they be without you? They need you to be repeat customers.

The good news is that they’re wrong.

The bad news is that you don’t need further education because your entire life is over. It is gone. That may come as a shock to some of you. You’re in your teens or early twenties. People may tell you that you will live to be 70, 80, 90 years old. That is your life expectancy.

I love that term: life expectancy. We all understand the term to mean the average life span of a group of people. But I’m here to talk about a bigger idea, which is what you expect from your life.

You may be very happy to know that Singapore is currently ranked as the country with the third highest life expectancy. We are behind Andorra and Japan, and tied with San Marino. It seems quite clear why people in those countries, and ours, live so long. We share one thing in common: our football teams are all hopeless. There’s very little danger of any of our citizens having their pulses raised by watching us play in the World Cup. Spectators are more likely to be lulled into a gentle and restful nap.

Singaporeans have a life expectancy of 81.8 years. Singapore men live to an average of 79.21 years, while Singapore women live more than five years longer, probably to take into account the additional time they need to spend in the bathroom.

So here you are, in your twenties, thinking that you’ll have another 40 years to go. Four decades in which to live long and prosper.

Bad news. Read the papers. There are people dropping dead when they’re 50, 40, 30 years old. Or quite possibly just after finishing their convocation. They would be very disappointed that they didn’t meet their life expectancy.

I’m here to tell you this. Forget about your life expectancy.

After all, it’s calculated based on an average. And you never, ever want to expect being average.

Revisit those expectations. You might be looking forward to working, falling in love, marrying, raising a family. You are told that, as graduates, you should expect to find a job paying so much, where your hours are so much, where your responsibilities are so much.

That is what is expected of you. And if you live up to it, it will be an awful waste.

If you expect that, you will be limiting yourself. You will be living your life according to boundaries set by average people. I have nothing against average people. But no one should aspire to be them. And you don’t need years of education by the best minds in Singapore to prepare you to be average.

What you should prepare for is mess. Life’s a mess. You are not entitled to expect anything from it. Life is not fair. Everything does not balance out in the end. Life happens, and you have no control over it. Good and bad things happen to you day by day, hour by hour, moment by moment. Your degree is a poor armour against fate.

Don’t expect anything. Erase all life expectancies. Just live. Your life is over as of today. At this point in time, you have grown as tall as you will ever be, you are physically the fittest you will ever be in your entire life and you are probably looking the best that you will ever look. This is as good as it gets. It is all downhill from here. Or up. No one knows.

What does this mean for you? It is good that your life is over.

Since your life is over, you are free. Let me tell you the many wonderful things that you can do when you are free.

The most important is this: do not work.

Work is anything that you are compelled to do. By its very nature, it is undesirable.

Work kills. The Japanese have a term “Karoshi”, which means death from overwork. That’s the most dramatic form of how work can kill. But it can also kill you in more subtle ways. If you work, then day by day, bit by bit, your soul is chipped away, disintegrating until there’s nothing left. A rock has been ground into sand and dust.

There’s a common misconception that work is necessary. You will meet people working at miserable jobs. They tell you they are “making a living”. No, they’re not. They’re dying, frittering away their fast-extinguishing lives doing things which are, at best, meaningless and, at worst, harmful.

People will tell you that work ennobles you, that work lends you a certain dignity. Work makes you free. The slogan “Arbeit macht frei” was placed at the entrances to a number of Nazi concentration camps. Utter nonsense.

Do not waste the vast majority of your life doing something you hate so that you can spend the small remainder sliver of your life in modest comfort. You may never reach that end anyway.

Resist the temptation to get a job. Instead, play. Find something you enjoy doing. Do it. Over and over again. You will become good at it for two reasons: you like it, and you do it often. Soon, that will have value in itself.

I like arguing, and I love language. So, I became a litigator. I enjoy it and I would do it for free. If I didn’t do that, I would’ve been in some other type of work that still involved writing fiction – probably a sports journalist.

So what should you do? You will find your own niche. I don’t imagine you will need to look very hard. By this time in your life, you will have a very good idea of what you will want to do. In fact, I’ll go further and say the ideal situation would be that you will not be able to stop yourself pursuing your passions. By this time you should know what your obsessions are. If you enjoy showing off your knowledge and feeling superior, you might become a teacher.

Find that pursuit that will energise you, consume you, become an obsession. Each day, you must rise with a restless enthusiasm. If you don’t, you are working.

Most of you will end up in activities which involve communication. To those of you I have a second message: be wary of the truth. I’m not asking you to speak it, or write it, for there are times when it is dangerous or impossible to do those things. The truth has a great capacity to offend and injure, and you will find that the closer you are to someone, the more care you must take to disguise or even conceal the truth. Often, there is great virtue in being evasive, or equivocating. There is also great skill. Any child can blurt out the truth, without thought to the consequences. It takes great maturity to appreciate the value of silence.

In order to be wary of the truth, you must first know it. That requires great frankness to yourself. Never fool the person in the mirror.

I have told you that your life is over, that you should not work, and that you should avoid telling the truth. I now say this to you: be hated.

It’s not as easy as it sounds. Do you know anyone who hates you? Yet every great figure who has contributed to the human race has been hated, not just by one person, but often by a great many. That hatred is so strong it has caused those great figures to be shunned, abused, murdered and in one famous instance, nailed to a cross.

One does not have to be evil to be hated. In fact, it’s often the case that one is hated precisely because one is trying to do right by one’s own convictions. It is far too easy to be liked, one merely has to be accommodating and hold no strong convictions. Then one will gravitate towards the centre and settle into the average. That cannot be your role. There are a great many bad people in the world, and if you are not offending them, you must be bad yourself. Popularity is a sure sign that you are doing something wrong.

The other side of the coin is this: fall in love.

I didn’t say “be loved”. That requires too much compromise. If one changes one’s looks, personality and values, one can be loved by anyone.

Rather, I exhort you to love another human being. It may seem odd for me to tell you this. You may expect it to happen naturally, without deliberation. That is false. Modern society is anti-love. We’ve taken a microscope to everyone to bring out their flaws and shortcomings. It far easier to find a reason not to love someone, than otherwise. Rejection requires only one reason. Love requires complete acceptance. It is hard work – the only kind of work that I find palatable.

Loving someone has great benefits. There is admiration, learning, attraction and something which, for the want of a better word, we call happiness. In loving someone, we become inspired to better ourselves in every way. We learn the truth worthlessness of material things. We celebrate being human. Loving is good for the soul.

Loving someone is therefore very important, and it is also important to choose the right person. Despite popular culture, love doesn’t happen by chance, at first sight, across a crowded dance floor. It grows slowly, sinking roots first before branching and blossoming. It is not a silly weed, but a mighty tree that weathers every storm.
You will find, that when you have someone to love, that the face is less important than the brain, and the body is less important than the heart.

You will also find that it is no great tragedy if your love is not reciprocated. You are not doing it to be loved back. Its value is to inspire you.

Finally, you will find that there is no half-measure when it comes to loving someone. You either don’t, or you do with every cell in your body, completely and utterly, without reservation or apology. It consumes you, and you are reborn, all the better for it.

Don’t work. Avoid telling the truth. Be hated. Love someone.

"Care a little more for the people who care for you," said my Mom. 


She was frustrated, and I didn't really understand why till she made that comment. I had been trying to plan a trip with my aunt, and when planning the flights, I did it in such a way that would be more beneficial to me, and that would perhaps inconvenience her a bit more. It wasn't a huge thing, and it properly wouldn't alter our lives drastically, but it changed my perspective of who matters most. 


It reminded me why we have our families, and why we must love them with a fierce love. 


Humans have this wonderful capacity to love, and it's wonderful, it makes the world go round. But, it is also dangerous. For within that love comes the ability to hurt someone so much more. It is only when we love that deeply that the pain can sink that much deeper into the crater of the heart. 


My parents have always loved me so much, and I think that I take that for granted, more than I'm often willing to admit. My mother's sacrifice, to me, is beyond comprehension. I just forget it, though. Whenever I'm reminded of her sacrifices, I am ashamed, and then quickly forget once again. She always nags, and I attribute that to her being my mother, and then also being Asian. I mean, come on, I'm 23, and here I am being nagged about my grades, and being told to eat properly. It's those little things that bug the crud out of me, but in my more humble moments, the times when those little things remind me of just how much my mother loves me. 


I'm an only child, so friends are extremely important to me. But here's one thing I've learned. Except for a select few, friends come and go, but your family is ALWAYS there for you. They will do anything for you. That's the point, though. Because we know they'll always be there for us, we feel we can forget about them for a time, and they'll be there when we want to come back. Not the case. Love is infinite, but not definite. 


As I was driving to pick my friend up a couple hours ago, this other thought popped into my head, "the ones we love the most are the ones we treat the worst."

"Why?" I thought. "Why am I getting these thoughts thrown at me?"

In pondering, I think we don't realize that we do that a lot of the time, I mean, love them less than they should be loved. And, while I'm not suggesting that any of us are treating our loved ones in an abusive way, but the neglect we relegate to those who love us so much is more destructive than the physical wars we see around us. The wars that can completely destroy a life rage within the soul.

In some small way, I got to thinking about my own life and experiences I've had with that. The girls I've dated or tried to date are wonderful, but there's something that I've noticed with a few of them that irks me just a little.

When girls know you like them, they either reciprocate it, ignore it, or, they use it to their advantage because they know the boy who's head over heels for them would do almost anything for them. While it might be laughable or idiotic to see a guy fall so hard for a girl, there's also something to it, that a man is willing to open himself up to that love. Sadly, some girls use it to their advantage and treat those men like lap dogs. I wonder why that is the case.

I think I'm guilty doing that with some of my friends too though, the ones who are there through think and thin. Better change those ways.

I hope that as I come to more fully understand what it means to love, that I will care more for those who care for me, and hope that I find a woman one day who reciprocates that love.