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i first picked up rebecca solnit’s book: a field guide to getting lost when i was wandering around in portland, oregon. it was a suitable companion on my virgin couchsurfing trip, in a city that’s known for its wandering and wanderers.
it has taken a while for me to explore more of her work, which i’ll blame on inertia. wanderlust is essentially a history of walking, a book that weaves together different aspects and interpretations of walking from the arts, social commentary, gender studies, history and civil movements.
it’s a dense volume, one that has taken me a month to plough through, and through the barrage of facts that solnit shares in the book, what remains are beautiful turns of phrases and platforms of thought to leap off from.
here are a few choice sections:
- walking, ideally, is a state in which the mind, the body, and the world are aligned, as though they were three characters finally in conversation together, three notes suddenly making a chord. walking allows us to be in our bodies and in the world without being made busy by them. it leaves us free to think without being wholy lost in our thoughts…the rhythm of walking generates a kind of rhythm of thinking, and the passage through a landscape echoes or stimulates the passage through a series of thoughts. this creates an odd consonance between internal and external passage, one that suggests that the mind is also a landscape of sorts and that walking is one way to traverse it.
- pilgrimage is premised on the idea that the sacred is not entirely immaterial, but that there is a geography of spiritual power. pilgrimage walks a delicate line between the spiritual and te material in its emphasis on the story and its setting, though the search is for spirituality, it is pursued in terms of the most material details- of where the buddha was born or where christ died, where the relics are or the holy water flows. or perhaps it reconciles the spiritual and the material, for to go on pilgrmage is to make the body and its actions express the desires and beliefs of the soul…pilgrimages make it possible to move physically, through the exertions of ones body, step by step, toward those intangible spiritual goals that are otherwise so hard to grasp. we are eternally perplexed by how to move toward forgiveness or healing or truth, but we know how to walk from here to there, however arduous the journey.
- cities have always offered anonymity, variety, and conjunciton, qualities best basked in by walking. a city always contains more than any inhabitant can know, and a great city always makes the unknown and the possible spurs to the imagination…this was the daytime marvel of cities for me: coincidences, the mingling of many kinds of people, poetry given away to strangers under the open sky…rural walking has found a moral imperative in the love of nature…urban walking has always been a shadier business, easily turning into soliciting, cruising, promenading…
- there is a subtle state most dedicated urban walkers know, a sort of basking in solitude– a dark solitude punctuated with encounters as the night sky is punctuated with stars. in the country one’s solitude is geogrphical– one is altogether outside society, so solitude has a sensible geographical explanation, and then there is a kind of communion with the non human. in the city, one is alone because the world is made up of strangers, and to be a stranger surrounded by strangers, to walk along silently bearing one’s secrets and imagining those of the people one passes, is among the starkest of luxuries…in small doses melancholy, alienation, and introspection are among life’s most refined pleasures.
- the original treadmill was a large wheel…that several prisoners trod for set periods. it was meant to rationalise prisoners’ psyches…and break down the obstinate spirit. the body that used to have the status of a work animal now has the status of a pet: it does not provide real transport, as a horse might have, instead the body is exercised as one might walk a dog. thus, the body, a recreational, rather than utilitarian entity, doesn’t work, but works out.
today’s news and the reactions to them were really interesting.
firstly, flash floods around the island. it is unfortunate that these are happening and that they are affecting the livelihood, property and convenience of so many people. yes, the government has some part to play in the matter to ensure that drains should be well-maintained and can channel the waterflow effectively. it also needs to engage in longer term infrastructure planning for drainage needs, which it does already do, looking ahead by 40-50 years. but to expect the government to be omnipotent and omniscient can’t be fair, because as the best-laid plans of mice and men, really do often go astray. plans are dynamic and need to be reviewed, especially when faced with curveballs such as the recent freak weather. the frequent bouts of intense heavy rainfall in the past few weeks should speak of a deeper, more worrying issue of what is happening to the state of the environment and how it is impacting on our metereological conditions. singapore has been fortunate to be shielded from most natural disasters, so we’ve been able to continue operating in our happy bubble while the rest of the world has been impacted by earthquakes, landslides, tsunamis and hurricanes. this is a wake-up call for some changes to be made in our lifestyle and actions. instead, some of the comments online in response to the flash floods ran the gamut from blaming third world immigrants to singapore for bringing along their third world disasters to untempered sarcasm directed at the government. it’s a little disappointing.
the second thing which took up front page news of life was sumiko tan getting married. i know, the general comments have been about how something like that could warrant front page news, and maybe that’s true. but can i say, i’m really glad for her. yes, the columns have been tiring and repetitive, especially in recent years, but i think when you’ve been looking for so long and not finding a partner, especially in a line of work that has erratic hours, you do tend to land up in that hamster wheel of repeating yourself. it’s hard to pull yourself out of, and when you do meet someone, it’s a cause of celebration. so congrats sumiko, i hope it all works out :}
i’m sitting here, listening to the yeahyeahyeahs singing hysteric through my earphones. i’m not sure if you’d approve of the choice of music, it’s a bit too indie and pop-py for your taste I think. i heard this morning, coming into work, about you. i’m shocked, yes. but so thankful that i’ve had the luxury of your friendship in the brief stay you’ve had on this earth.
i wanted to write to you, a goodbye letter of sorts, because words have been such a part of our friendship, whether through song or through your sporadic but lengthy email updates.
thank you for so many things, rich. thank you for being the firecracker you are, with the wicked sense of humour and for your sheer talent of song in your voice and hands. thank you for barrelling through life, doing your gigs, dreaming, not stopping. it can’t have been easy, and there are many questions at the tip of my tongue then which i never knew how to raise, which don’t matter now. the time we shared has been brief, but so special to me. singing together in the crooners for the old ladies in the nursing home, sitting in the sunshine near battery park, listening to the loose marbles in washington sq park, goofing around in your bathroom with an umbrella-hat, singing at a streetcorner as we got shelter from the rain. all the plans, of visiting your crazyass hotel in portland or of meeting again in nyc to soak in the wonder of the city. no more.
thank you too, for believing in me. lord knows what you’ve seen in me from the beginning, but whatever it is, i’m glad. for scoping out whatever intellect in me and celebrating it, for supporting the music i make and sing, for celebrating me. what a gift to have someone do that for you.
thank you for everything rich. i’ll miss your spirit.
diana
in an otherwise quiet work setting, music keeps me together. some days the player shuffles through the mix of songs throwing out beirut alongside faye wong and then orishas. other days i sink into the comfort of the same few songs on repeat, and somehow, it never seems to become routine.
cooking and baking also need music. preferably happy music. in como agua para chocolate, they spoke of the emotions being tasted through food, through the mouth. and i’d like to think part of that is true. my cooking music mojo is usually jazz, a layover from the philly days of cooking dinner every day in heels, a shift dress, a glass of argentinian red wine and ella.
since starting singing classes again, music’s on the brain most of the time. there are moments in the day when i just feel like singing at the top of my voice to nobody but the wind. walking to the train station, i sing aloud these days, startling uncles on my way. then again, half the people out there are ipoded up and can’t hear me, while the half all use hands-free sets and gesticulate wildly while talking, so i probably don’t look or sound too different ;}
i’m a creature of habit, and i’m always reminded of this when i show up somewhere and everyone there gives that knowing smile of ‘oh-weren’t-you-just-here-two-days-ago’? still, it’s a sweet feeling. makes the world seem a little smaller and less distant. lots of friendly faces in random places: orgo, night and day, lagnaa, metropole!
i love jazz when it’s done well. there’s nothing like a wall of gorgeous melted chocolate music pouring all over you. i was at the mandarin oriental axis bar the other night, and sat a couple of metres away from nanette frank, their in-house singer for the month of may. she swung, did the blues, and sang a long list of favourites of mine, mostly from ella the lady of jazz. even better, she acceded to my request for ‘the first time’ by roberta flack. a song that made me cry the first time i heard it. as much as i’m sure the life of a jazz singer isn’t easy, i would like to believe there’s so much joy, understanding and love of life which you need to feel before you can sing the songs in such a way.
the aware saga has been a monumental triumph for women, and for civil society in singapore. the idealist in me wanted to believe, and so i went, but the cynic in me feared that disparate civil society would not be able to come together for a common cause as effectively as an organised religion. oh, how wrong i was. that afternoon, i heard so many intelligent, articulate, passionate, confident women speak about what women stood for and why women’s rights should be championed. to stop the domestic violence, the singular stereotypes of good mother/daughter, to understand about choices– sexual, orientation, beliefs. whatever bigoted viewpoints were put forth from the other side were overwhelmingly silenced with reason, logic and generosity. it was a watershed moment of the power of collective action here in singapore and i was glad to have been a part of it.
i recently returned from a trip to cambodia, and the trip was thought-provoking for me in many ways.
i’ve thought about giving, and how to give of myself for a long time. i think there’s an innate desire in all of us to give to a greater whole, beyond who we are. we may carry with us idealised visions of how great it would be to be based in a developing country overseas, helping people first-hand. but, i think we each have a different role to play in giving of ourselves. some people with the right skills and tenacity, can make a tremendous difference by helping first hand, providing pro bono professional advice, etc. others, may be better suited to giving from afar, and in different forms.
i still remember going for a service trip when i was younger, where we were meant to visit uthai thani in northern thailand to help paint the school walls. it was evident when we got there, that it was more to massage our middle-class conscience that we were actively out somewhere doing good, than our presence actually value-adding. the kids there knew how to paint better, and we took twice the time to do the job, depleting their resources along the way as the poor villagers gave so much more of their own food and drink for our thirst.
it can be a sharply humbling experience to realise the limitations of your own giving. not all of us can serve as altruistically as others, not all of us have the means to give time or money as others. in siem reap where i visited, there are many ngos which are doing a tremendous job in providing free basic services, especially healthcare and education to the local population. many foreigners have chosen to base themselves in cambodia to do good work for the cambodian people and i deeply admire and applaud their dedication. looking around, i wasn’t sure i had it in myself to do the same. however, going over there deepened my resolve to more pro-actively give more of myself, even though it might not be with my physical presence. i don’t think it’s fair to label do-gooders who give monetarily as armchair philanthropists, in the derogatory sense of the term. money, as was reiterated in cambodia, is what makes the world tick, at the end of the day. it is the lubricant to build the infrastructure, subsidise costs for the consumer, etc, and should not be belittled.
so yes, my new resolve is to give of myself what i can, when i can, and to not berate myself if i know i’m trying in what way i can. there’s a lot that we can do, even with a small amount each month. as gimmicky as it sounds, sponsoring a child’s education, providing some funding to build latrines to improve rural sanitation, contributing towards courses which teach women financial literary so they can break out of their subjugation and ignorance, are all impactful ways in which we can help with a small token contribution. so do think about giving of yourself, and don’t judge yourself when and how you do it :}
when i got into the cab the other day, the cabbie was humming to himself. it sounded a little like one those 60s chinese songs and i was curious. i asked him if he liked singing, and with that simple question, he landed up serenading me for the rest of my cab ride home. the best cab ride i’ve ever had.
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i was eating popiah with the family at a nearby coffeeshop. my dad was struggling to keep the popiah roll intact while transferring it onto another plate for us to share. the popiah lady caught sight of this and came over, proceeding to mother us in a gruff but exceedingly endearing fashion, telling us about the intricacies of popiah serving :}.
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i was walking around the katong area and stumbled upon a beautiful temple at ceylon road. a drum beat started up and everything fell to a soft hush as the devotee worshipped ganesh with his circle of tealights and incense. i stood entranced– there was no other way to react.
on a day which will go down in history as unequivocally painful, this is a personal attempt at reasserting the belief that life can and must go on.
“People say that what we’re all seeking is a meaning for life. I think that what we’re seeking is an experience of being alive, so that our life experiences on the purely physical plane will have resonances within our own innermost being and reality, so that we actually feel the rapture of being alive.”
