Somewhere to Belong...

Moving around between continents to explore, being restless, feeling caged in when too much routine sets in, feeling too young to get stuck in a place yet, well, those are just a few things I could say about the reasons why I find it so difficult to settle on one location to live and, well, settle down. Another is that I have always been looking for somewhere to belong. Even back when I was little. I have always felt like an outsider, like I was that little green alien coming for a visit. 

In first grade I had figured out how to read within two weeks and allegedly had decided I was done with school, since that was what I had come here for. Pity there were another 13 years to go through with... 

In second grade we moved to another city, and I was the only one listening to pop music in my class, while everyone else was still talking about kid's audio plays. So I found a few friends, but I was always a step away, be it too far or behind, the mainstream. And proud of it, I might add, since it made me feel unique.

But I suppose, uniqueness comes at a price. One I was more than willing to pay, since mainstream was annoying me like hell, in the way where I would actually feel nauseous when I saw the other girls prancing around with their pink heart accessories, or giggle about stuff that makes any sane person's head hurt. Ok, call me snobbish, so what? I have taste! Even if it's not shared by everyone else... Which means, yes, I can hold my head up high and stand by my taste in music or literature etc, but makes not much for popularity, especially when the hits of the moment are prominent on my worst-music-ever list... 

Well, but the choice to stand apart kind of developed the compulsion to first question anything that was popular before looking at it for its own merit. By now I have learned to accept some things, even if popular, and even if they are possibly not the highest rating artistic works on earth. Thus, yes, I admit, I read all the Harry Potter Books, and though nothing outstandingly original from a literary point of view was to be found, I really did enjoy reading them. To give just one example...

But other things remain. So I find myself quite often trying hard to appear as a local, even if on holiday, because I don't want to be mistaken for one of those brainless tourists running off the list of must-sees in their Lonely Planet rather than having a real look around, deciding what they themselves might be interested in and God forbid learn something about another culture. And for the longest time I did not want to be obviously taken for a German, even if I don't want to give up that passport ever, since it's too comfy to travel on this one. But being taken for a German would usually come with all those stereotypes which I try my best to defy. And then I find myself being annoyed myself when someone promises to come out for a drink with me and then cancels last minute... 

Nonetheless, the concept of being different has always and still does appeal to me. Different, other, special... And even though I don't feel special, I suppose I have managed to achieve that, in a way, since people tend to tell me more often than not that they wouldn't be able to lead my life while admiring my life choices. That's what they say at least. But this is not a discussion about how honest other people express their  opinions. It's about having chosen to stand by my own ideals, by opposing conformity, and the consequences. Because, as much as I appreciate how people admire that I am able to just pack up and leave and go somewhere completely different, it comes at a price. 

Having moved between places, between lifestyles, between societies, I find it difficult to deal with routine. I have never had to settle, since I always knew that if I got annoyed I could just pack up and leave. Which is what I did. But keeping your head down and just going through with it is something I have not yet learned. Well, other than the various exams that I had to study for and things like that where the end was in sight. But on a larger scale, where you have no clue how long it may last and where it may lead, how do you deal with that? Especially since I am so bad with dealing with uncertainty? I know, I know, that sounds kind of absurd when at the same time I have no problem with just packing my things and going off to live in Japan or something like that. But the thing is, that by packing up I took the decision myself, I knew where I was going even if I had to start again, and what basics I had to settle first. But not knowing if there will ever be a change in the job you do and still go through with it day by day, when every step closer to the office makes your stomach clench that much further, that is something I am not prepared for.  And even though I still believe that if you hate your job that much you simply have to quit, come what may, there is an element of settling down and just accepting good and bad with that decision that I am as yet unsure about. 

Settling down... essentially I AM planning on settling down, but I have been looking for a place where I feel like I belong. A feeling which is largely defined, in my opinion, by the people that surround me. So I am looking for the place where I feel at home with the people around me, where I have good friends, where I will find love, where I want to stay. Well, the problem with that is that I have made a few good friends, just that they are spread out all across the world. Each of them I love for their own personality, each of them I miss, each of them has enriched my life in their own special way. But how do I decide which ones I want to live close to?

But that is the thing, right? It's a decision. And I have to take this decision, at some point. Somehow, it turns out, I had always assumed that these things just fall into place and settle themselves without my doing much about it. But these days I realise that belonging is not just a matter of coincidence, a matter of your surroundings coming to you take you in, but that it's largely a matter of deciding that this is where I belong, and building my world on that basis. Of making a choice and sticking with it. Once I have decided that, everything else will follow. 

Well, sounds good, doesn't it? Just decide and there you go. And knowing that it is simply a matter of myself deciding does help, now at least it is in my own control. A place to belong... If only I knew what that means! How does it feel to belong? How do I know that I have achieved it? And even more importantly, how do I, who hates limiting my possibilities, rule out all other places for the sake of just one single spot on earth where I want to settle? Live and learn, I say, live and learn... and see what the next turn in life has to say about that!     

     

The Sea of Shiny Trees

A sunny spell among the English summer weather (in case you didn't know, that is the nice way of saying it's pissing down each and every day in London) brought me out to do a bit of grocery shopping. Passing a bits and bobs shop in the shopping center at the end of my street a tree gleamed at me. Literally. At about a meter and a half its leaves and flowers were made of electric lights, all transparent white, and if I knew anything about such things I could probably say something about it being LED technology and stuff, but since I have no clue what that means I just leave it at that. And immediately it sends me back to warmer parts of the world.

This is the first time I've seen this kind of tree out here in London. The first time ever that I did see such a tree was in Kuala Lumpur. Near where I was staying some furniture shop had a few out in the front, and they immediately fascinated me with their pink and orange lights. Seriously, what is there not to love? Shiny things! Really really shiny things, glowing in the dark, in a variety of colours. But the best thing was when my friend introduced me to I-City out in Shah Alam. What did they call it? A "lightscape tourism destination". Love this fancy speak... which is to say it's a forest made of these LED trees. And LED flamingos. And LED geese. And deer. And peacocks. But most of all trees. Cherry trees, orange trees, pine trees, and all sorts of indescribable colourful flowers and what-not trees. It looks amazing. You (which means I) walk around at a foot a minute because you take pictures of each and every flower you see, that's how amazing the whole place looks, at first sight, well, and at second and third. I have not yet gotten to the point where I don't find these trees incredibly fascinating and beautiful, in the strange way that artificial things sometimes are. And where I don't pull out the camera on a reflex and start taking pictures like mad. Especially when you are standing in front of hundreds of them...

This one tree today in the shop was safe though. Mainly because I had forgotten my camera at home. But it was interesting to see how an item such as this triggers all those memories of Malaysia, of sitting in the car with my friend and driving past those three or four trees in front of that furniture shop on the way to some nightmarket where wonderful food was waiting for us. Or when we went out to Shah Alam to that shiny tree park, and how we spent hours walking among those trees with hundreds of other people, amazed at the sight, incredulous at the cheap crappy light-up toys they tried to sell on top of that, shooting picture after picture and falling in love with whoever it was who came up with the idea of building this park. 

If I win the lottery I want to have a whole garden like this. Well, next to the one with real plants that is. But first, I suppose, I will have to start buying lottery tickets, right? Electric garden, wait for me!     

Why do birds sing?

Well, I can't speak for birds, but there are certain moments where I feel like singing. I mean, yes, I also like karaoke, the Japanese box style thingy, not the open bar thing, just to be clear on that point. But give me a stretch of open road or better yet, a path through forest or park, and a bicycle, the wind blowing in my face, and I can't stop myself. I have to sing. Whatever comes to mind. All-time favourites are Oh Happy Day, Your Song, Paper Bag or Opportunity, and in light of current events, Three Lions. Even if the poor guys lost the game last night. 

The same works for thunder storms with lightning flashing and thunder crashing in the skies above. Or just standing outside at the rail on deck of a ship... well, anything with wind blowing and the force of nature pushing me. What is it that makes me sing, I wonder? It can't just be the rush of speed on a bicycle, since standing on a balcony with a thunder storm above will do the trick, too. 

Whatever it is, it is a lot of fun. Well, for me. I may not be the worst singer on earth, I know that for a fact, I have met him. But I am also not the best, far from it. I hit the notes, usually. I still try not to be too loud with people around, too embarrassing for me, and possibly painful for them. Still, given a bit of solitude and some wind, and there I go again. Well, at least it's just singing and not screaming... that would be much more disturbing, now, wouldn't it?