Being Here

As the year stumbles to its conclusion, I stumble to my own conclusion that it's good to be here. Something not to be taken for granted. And something that looked, frankly, unlikely, when the first tentative steps for the renewal of my employment pass were made back in July.

To cut a long story short - which Mum always said she would do and never did - we spent late July, August, September, October and early November in a state of dire uncertainty as to whether the government of this Far Place would countenance my further employment in their nation in 2024. In fact, I was turned down for an employment pass in November - but was given an S Pass (the sort of next best thing) for one year just before the end of the school year.

So, lucky. Very. And here. For now, anyway.

Seeking To Connect

Early in the month I was moaning about not being able to get into Lowell's sonnets from 1973's History. Well I kept at it and have now reached roughly the halfway point of the book (which is very long at something like 200 pages) and I'm still not all that comfortable with what Lowell is doing here. I can't recall a single poem that seemed to me entirely successful despite occasional lines flaring into life. Once or twice whole sections have worked for me, as in a couple of the sonnets relating to Rimbaud, but this has been atypical of my reading. 

So why am I keeping going? I keep asking myself that, and I think I've figured out an answer that goes beyond sheer bloody-mindedness, even though there's an element of that going on.

The thing is that I know Lowell is a great poet from his earlier books. I felt tuned in to almost everything in Life Studies, For the Union Dead and Near the Ocean. So assiduously reading the sonnets is my way of honouring that greatness, an act of something like gratitude. Also I'm hoping that I'm going to come across something that explodes in my consciousness as did Waking Early Sunday Morning. That would make it all worth it.

In Luck

A day of meetings. Wore my lucky socks and nothing went wrong. Just saying.

(Mind you, nothing went particularly right either. So the jury remains out on this one.)

On Task

Now gearing up for the start of the teaching year on 2 January. Suddenly my inbox is full to overflowing, a timely reminder of how busy I'm soon to be. A bit of a shock, even though it's the same shock every year - but good to awaken from the end-of-year lethargy.

And since this might possibly be my final year of teaching there's a sort of added piquancy involved in doing the usual as it might not be so usual in future.

On Hold

On the way back to Melaka soon. Couldn't get much done about the messed-up floor in our brief visit, but made some arrangements for getting things fixed when we can come up here for a few days next year. Most likely early March. Looking on the bright side, at least there's been no major further damage since the problem first emerged. And there are worse places in the world to be.

First world problems, eh?

On The Mend

We drove up to KL today basically to check on the house and try and attend to the problem of the popping tiles in the living room. Odd to think of a headache connected with a floor hanging over one, but that's the way it is. Good news: the problem doesn't look much worse. Bad news: it won't correct itself and we need to figure out what exactly to do. We should be seeing Ah Seng tomorrow and, with luck, he'll let us know of a solution; and, with more luck, the solution won't be overly expensive.

It's never easy, is it? But you knew that already.

Wishing

When I was a kid I genuinely believed that somehow peace mysteriously descended upon the earth on Christmas Day. Wish I still did. 

Keeping things positive in a time when the news of various conflicts evokes a sense of desolation, it's been good to see some fresh posts over at On An Overgrown Path in recent days. I always find something new to learn and to listen to. The one asking Do they know it's Christmas? is a timely reminder that in all the troubled places there will be no winners, just far too many victims on all sides. But it manages to point to some lovely music available despite the darkness.

Wishing well to all who keep the season. And the same to those who don't.

Passing The Test

I completely forgot that I needed to take the annual cyber security test set by my employers, until this morning. Having remembered I surprised myself by actually getting down to the job this evening rather than putting it off to 31 December (the deadline.)

I further surprised myself by passing the three sections with reasonable ease despite not understanding a fair number of the trickier questions. Of course, it helps that you are allowed multiple attempts and that most answers can be figured out by applying a strong dose of common sense. Let's face it, in the real world common sense is what everyone needs to fall back on with regard to IT systems (or any so-called system, for that matter.)

In fact, now I think of it I suppose I must be reasonably sensible with regard to cyber security concerns since I've somehow managed to avoid getting into trouble over this stuff for quite a few years. Hope this streak of good fortune lasts for at least another year - though I'm not exactly counting on that given the number of attempts I needed to get some of the answers right just now.

In Need

The helper here in Melaka urgently needs to get back to Indonesia for an operation on a swollen thyroid. Unfortunately the terms of her employment here appear to be riven with uncertainty such that it's not at all clear when she'll actually be able to go and whether she'll be able to come back to a job that I think she's happy in and helps her make sense of her life.

It's always a bit frightening to think of our vulnerabilities, no matter how well-placed in the world we appear to be. But to be in a position in which it's so easy to lose almost everything in a way that seems cruelly casual must be deeply destabilising.

Onwards

12.45

We'll be setting off for Melaka later today when I've cleared what needs to be done at work. Since there's lots of talk of late about jams into and out of Malaysia we're mentally prepared for what might turn out to be something of an ordeal. More later. Perhaps.

02.15 (Saturday)

A bit of an ordeal, I'm afraid. But good to be here. And good to have enjoyed an excellent concert by some students in the afternoon before setting off. A reminder of what makes the trickier bits of life worthwhile.

Looking Ahead

Struggling along on the elliptical trainer just now I thought it might be useful to devote some time to thinking ahead to 2024. Not that I was capable of genuine joined together thinking. Rather in those moments when I wasn't agonising about just keeping going, consideration of my physical health in the months ahead sort of came naturally.

And this is what I concluded. I don't see much hope of getting fitter than I am at the moment. But trying to keep up what I've achieved is feasible. It just needs working at in conscious fashion. Giving it some degree of priority. And taking a bit more care of diet. Going to a bit of trouble to get fruity. And increasing my intake of vegetables.

It's easy to let go, unfortunately; and gets easier with age. Which is why there's a need to embrace other ways of dealing with the basics.

Learning Something

It's the season for end-of-the-year obituaries. So, a lot of filler. But sometimes something genuinely informative and memorable creeps through. I'd include in that Elvis Costello's obit of Burt Bacharach. Not sure I'd have expected something like this from the Elvis I started listening to in the late 70s and it's good to reflect on the development of wisdom alongside the undoubted talent EC possessed from the beginning. Also worth reflecting on how much the mentorship of BB helped develop that wisdom and talent.

I find it helpful to consider just how much I've learnt from others over the years in my limited areas of expertise. (The answer, by the way, is pretty much everything.)

Somewhat Awkward

I've recently been alerted to the joys of the Awkward Puppets videos through my YouTube feed. For once the algorithm got it right. Not sure why I find these so funny, but am very sure it doesn't speak much for my moral character that I do.

Quietude

We found ourselves at the very, very busy Vivo City this afternoon. Everything in abundance: lots of people buying lots of things in lots of places. Lots of energy, I suppose, but I couldn't help feel detached from it all.

At one point, enjoying a cuppa at the CBTL therein, I noticed a little girl completely immersed in an Archie comic. She was with her parents but looked entirely detached from them, in the deep seriousness of whatever tale was holding her attention. I didn't see anyone else reading at all, except for those, in abundance, looking down at their phones. But somehow they didn't seem to have escaped like the little lass had.

We need the richness of other places in imagination, don't we? But I'm not sure we're keeping the roads open as we used to.

In Sadness

A sombre evening. Attended the wake for Mr Deven. Such a decent, kind man. Good to see so many there, though not a surprise considering the nature of the man.

Staying Virtuous

Resisted the temptation to do nothing in the evening other than a bit of reading and got myself to the gym. And when I was in the gym I resisted the temptation to curtail my stint on the elliptical trainer on the grounds I didn't feel so great. And then forced myself to do something on the weights after said stint. 

None of this felt good. But it did feel necessary and I'm pleased I did it when I really, really didn't want to. It's not much to boast about, but that's not going to stop me.

Virtue Signaling

Had an appointment at NUH today, one of the reasons we came back from Malaysia yesterday. I'd undergone another scan of my lungs a couple of weeks back, following up a previous scan in February, and needed to get the feedback. In case you're wondering why I've been in need of so many scans, it relates to the fact that there still signs of the gunk that put me in ICU in September 2022 hanging around back in February. The doc assigned to this aspect of my recovery wasn't especially worried about this, but did mention the very, very faint possibility that I'd contracted TB and felt it best to do at least one more check late in 2023 as to how recovery was proceeding, by which time the TB, if it was lingering in the background, would be fully apparent.

Anyway, the news was good. There's less gunk and so signs of TB, and since physical exercise is going well I don't need further scans. The doc strongly recommended vaccinating for Covid and I felt a picture of virtue informing him that I'd already had the jab. It seems I'm about the only one of his 'elderly patients' who'd done the right thing.

To be honest I'd sort of expected good news so it wasn't that I was overly concerned about the results. But I'm still enjoying thinking about them.

Breaking Up

We're now finishing off the jobs that need to be finished here at Maison KL such that we can feel we've left the place in good nick ahead of our journey back to our usual Far Place. In general the house is more than presentable, I'm happy to say. However, I'm less happy to note that something a bit troubling cropped up around mid-day on the premises.

We suddenly heard a very odd cracking sound, or, rather, series of sounds coming from the floor in the downstairs living area and it became apparent to us that some of the marble tiles of the flooring were slightly 'giving way' under foot. It looks as if several are coming loose such that they are popping up in a way they are clearly not supposed to. Everything seems to have settled now, but there's obviously quite a bit of damage to attend to. The thing is, though, that we really have to go back today and so we'll we'll need to put the problem on hold until we can get Ah Seng, our contractor, in to do the necessary. Which will most likely be messy. And expensive.

The joys of home ownership, eh?

A Question Of Scale

We just got back from KLCC. To our surprise the atrium in the centre is not dominated by the usual outsize Xmas tree this year. In its place there's a sort of mini-Xmas village with quite a few small trees - affording some nice photo-ops for the kiddies. Not unpleasant and suitably seasonal, without going over the top.

The ginormous tree turned out to still be around, however. It's now situated outside, in front of the musical fountains. But it doesn't seem quite so intimidating in the open air. Unfortunately though, when we popped out for a quick look they were blasting out the song Memories, from Cats, at a volume that would have no doubt frightened away the most fearless of felines.

Why do things need to be so big and loud? I remember when Christmases were on the human scale, and very pleasant they were. How did they get so overly-inflated? Even in the Far East?

Vulnerabilities

Earlier in the month I was moaning about my seeming inability to constructively read pretty much anything, and most especially the three periodicals I acquired around April-May. Well today I finished the third and final one of these, the May-July issue of the Mekong Review. I'm relieved to say it didn't fall quite as flat with me as the other mags I've struggled with. At the very least it served, as always, as a fruitful reminder of what an utterly fascinating part of the world I live in and how much I just don't know about the wider environs of South East Asia.

It also featured a piece by an ex-student of mine, Daryl Yam, who is turning out, not unexpectedly, to be a resonant voice in the region. His enthusiasm for the work he was reviewing, the fourteen essays comprising Queer Southeast Asia, was heartening, especially in the light of the personal struggles he delicately hints at in the essay in relation to the uncertainties he faces as a queer man in Singapore.

If the only thing we really learn of through our reading is the vulnerability of others, that seems to me sufficient reward.

Arriving, Again

Now in residence in Maison KL, having driven up - The Missus at the wheel - this afternoon. For some reason the highway contrived to be jammed on a perfectly unexceptional Monday, so it took quite a bit longer than expected. But the fridge is working and so's the telly, so life stumbles on. I'm feeling a bit better than I've been for a while and seem to be over the worst effects of the vaccination jab, though still a bit thick-headed. (More than is usual, even for me, I mean.) Now I think of it, it's a good job I wasn't feeling too much under the weather in the car today, otherwise the world and his uncle & auntie & family in general would have heard about it.

A Peaceful Evening, Sort Of

Found ourselves at Rozita & Fuad's this evening where we polished off a number of puffs, curry & mushroom, and all sorts of bits & pieces from Subway. Also watched a movie entitled 21 Bridges and rather wished I hadn't. Lots of people shooting and getting shot for no good reason I could fathom. 

Heartfelt

I'm not quite sure why, but for some reason I didn't play Dylan's Christmas in the Heart this time last year. Decided to reinstate the annual tradition today, and was very glad I did so. Wonderful arrangements, stellar playing and that voice. Playful and sincere - enabling me to reconnect with the mythical Christmases of early childhood for at least forty minutes or so.

Also discovered two videos from the album - the bonkers (in a good way) Must Be Santa and the straightforwardly gorgeous Little Drummer Boy. I suppose these are the stand-out tracks, but it struck me today that it's a wonderfully sequenced album in which every song holds its own. In fact, strange as this might sound, I'd put it in my top ten albums from His Bobness.

Poorly

I seem to be experiencing some kind of reaction to Tuesday's vaccination jab. Woke in the early morning with the kind of headache that suggested I hadn't slept at all and things have gone downhill since. Now sniffling and coughing and aching and almost shaking and feeling, ironically, a lot worse than when I actually came down with Covid last year, late in December. Managed to get to Friday Prayers and did a bit of admin in school, but haven't been genuinely functional since 4.15 pm.

Noi is managing to put up with my moaning, heroically so. I don't like to complain when I'm not well, but am spectacularly good at doing so if I have a sympathetic audience.

A Voice, Silenced

Took my copy of Talking Turkeys off the shelf upon hearing of the death of its author, Benjamin Zephaniah, this evening. Possibly my favourite book of poems for kids. It's the general sense of warmth and generosity of spirit that makes it irresistible - in addition, of course, to the cleverly crafted poems within that speak in such a beguiling voice. Felt sad over the idea of the writer being silenced, and at such a relatively young age, but also some consolation in the certainty that he will continue to be heard and read.

Lost, Again

Why would anyone spend a great deal of time and energy, and some little talent, making a video about all the terrible movies they've watched this year? And why would anyone, except for a complete fool like myself, waste fifty minutes of precious time watching it?

Sometimes I'm a mystery to myself. Except that I know the answer to the puzzle and am just too lazy to do anything about it.

Jabbed

Noi and I went for round five of our jabs for (or against) covid this afternoon. It's been a year since we tested positive and felt the ill-effects of the virus, so the timing seemed right.

And how different it all was since I originally got the vaccine, early in 2021. At that time it all felt very intense; this afternoon seemed routinely casual. We've lived through strange times of late - with a large share of luck. Though I suppose it's reasonable to claim that all times are strange in their way, and the ultimate in luck is being around to experience them.

In Debt

We enjoyed the company of Tom and Rita this afternoon, the first chance we've had to chat with the two of them in a long time. Had to tell the story of my breakdown last year, which I've managed to edit down to what seemed a reasonable length, though Tom was understandably looking sleepy at the three-quarters mark.

It's interesting how I continue to make my own discoveries in the retelling. Today I was struck with considerable force by the certainty that my sudden recovery of the self had nothing to do with any kind of resilience on my part. It was so obvious that it was the care & expertise of the medical staff at NUH aided & abetted by the care & consideration of Noi plus various friends and family that pulled me out of The Delirium. I was entirely passive and entirely despairing. The lack of agency on my part was central to the nature of the experience.

What I will give myself a little credit for is getting on with things once I'd come back, but that was the easy, almost inevitable, part. 

Not Connecting

Not sure why but I'm experiencing one of those periods in which I just don't seem able to connect with anything I read. I'm struggling with the poems in the History segment of Lowell's Collected Poems and struggling to read the three periodicals that have been waiting for my attention since May. I took these with me to Rome & Amsterdam back in June and made no progress then, but that was partly because I had some novels with me to read. Now there's no excuse.

I did manage to finish the February issue of the NYRB yesterday, but didn't find anything of value in any of the articles, nothing that got me even mildly excited. And just now I gave up on a couple of articles in the issue of Philosophy Now from the same period as my brain kept wandering.

I'm not intending to give up on this stuff. But I'm not quite sure what good it's doing me.

Nothing Left

Got to the gym today after something of a pause caused by our socialising ahead of Noi's birthday - yesterday evening having turned happily into a bit of a family do. Expected I'd be in good form given the fact I'd rested well since Tuesday's session, and eaten plentifully. In the event I had nothing left for the last 15 minutes on the elliptical trainer despite peddling a lot slower than usual. Very disappointing.

But now back with the birthday girl, quietly enjoying the last of the bits and pieces she's been cooking up over recent days. So all is well, despite the fact it isn't.

For Sure

Spent a long time at the bank this afternoon making changes to the details of an account I hold there. At the time I came to live over here I needed to make quite a few arrangements closing accounts in the UK and opening them in this Far Place, but I can't remember things taking as long as they do now. This leads me to the conclusion that Modern Life Is Rubbish. Of course, I've stated this before, but now it's definite.

Mind you, the young lady we were dealing with was incredibly patient and guided us through all the excruciatingly tedious documentation such as to considerably diminish the pain involved. Somehow I doubt that she was getting paid as much as she deserved, but I hope I'm wrong on that front.