Japan, out of all things.

[Pencil drawings from the Singapore Art Museum that tickled my fancy. Singapore Art Museum is a nice place.]

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The J.E.T. (Japanese Exchange and Teaching) Programme as many people know, is a godsend for college graduates who have no idea what the fuck to do with their life, because it gives them a leigitmate excuse to postpone further concrete career plans for at least a year or two while they tutor English language to Japanese schoolchildren.

A lesser known fact about JET: there is also a position called Coordinator of International Relations (CIR) for people with semi-advanced to advanced Japanese skills who are placed in offices of local governments and other related organizations to help translate pamphlets, assist in welcoming guests and other various activities of an international nature.

I've been entertaining ideas of working abroad in Japan for a year or two ever since I came to Singapore, and reading about the CIR position further solidifies this idea. This is a position that I am definitely interested in applying to. If I don't get this position, then something else that will allow me to work in Japan. Maybe I just love the idea of uprooting myself too much--the idea of being temporarily helpless, confused and miserable in a completely new location and having to struggle your ass off to rediscover the equilibrium between yourself and your new environment. Not to mention the fact that I will finally be forced to further finetune my Japanese language skills, and also be closer to extended family whom I hardly ever get a chance to see.

Not to get all Amy Tan on you but it's ironic, I suppose; essentially, a reverse-migration of what my parents had to do when they were in their mid-twenties. My theoretical future venture back to the motherland is slightly less dramatic than my mother's migration to Southern California. When my mother was 25, she randomly tagged along with a local church group taking a tour of the States. At the end of the tour, she simply decided that she wasn't going back to Japan. She was not fazed by the fact that she did not speak English very well and that she had never lived outside of Japan before, let alone all by herself. Her parents demanded that she stop entertaining such outrageous ideas and come home immediately, but she firmly resisted. Why? She just loved the weather in California that much.

I think I get a bit of my restless nature from my mother, who, motherly concerns asides, always tells me that it's great to have a single life and there's no rush to get married because there are simply so many things to see and do in this world. Indeed, indeed.

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For those of you who don't know, it is illegal to have homosexual sex in Singapore, in spite of the smattering of gay bars, clubs and bathhouses that exist within the country. With my local friend from my Southeast Asian literature class, we sat in a lecture that featured a Singaporean gay activist as a guest lecturer. Alex Au (who has his own website here) is a very articulate, intelligent and witty man. It is not very common in Singapore to come across someone who is willing to have such a frank discussion on the topic of sex. For about two hours, he engaged the students in a dialogue concerning the gay rights movement in Singapore, the politics of sexuality and the obstacles of creating an advocacy movement out of something that carries so much social, religious and political stigma.

It was inspiring, to say the least, especially how calmly he presented his arguments when confronted by the usual questions that come from people who aren't exactly thrilled with the idea of homosexuality, i.e. If gays can marry, then why not allow pedophilia and bestiality? Now few things piss me off more than homophobia. Even though I don't identify myself as gay, my blood pressure raises a few notches when people make assumptions that homosexuality is a lifestyle choice, that there is no need for a gay rights movement, or gay people shoudn't be allowed to marry, or whatever else you may think of that is essentially looking down on the homosexual community. If I were a guest lecturer, my response to these kind of questions and comments would be a sort of angry, half-splutter of, "What?! Are you... are you STUPID?"

Alex was not fazed by these comments and questions, of course, even when a girl with a particularly shrill voice asked him if he considered this whole gay movement effort to be worth trying at all. He simply carried on in his calm, persuasive manner because he understands that everyone has different points of views, even if that particular point of view may happen to be a full-on denouncement of who you love and how you live your life. I wish I can be more like him--someone who is so brave and opinionated.

What principles and ideas are you willing to die for? It's a question that's been circulating in my head recently.

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Is this semester almost halfway over already? I'll already be home before I know it. I'm still undecided as to whether my birthday will be spent in Southeast Asia or back in the States. Maybe it'll occur over the Pacific Ocean when I'm flying home.

I'll be 22 by then, and as strange as it sounds, I'm looking forward to turning 22. I like the numerical symmetry of the age; I like how it's divisible by eleven, a prime number. 21 has too many connotations, too much psychological pressure to finally reap the bounty of legal drinking. 22 is just a nice number, but full of endless possibilities.