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03.08.2007
My previous post about being sick of our director's idiosyncrasies. I still feel this way. Only now it has been compounded by being sick of taking orders from people who are not even in our company, being sick of keeping a good Poker face around these people and sick of putting up with people who are close to me being very insensitive and plainly foolish. I hope that this will move somewhere sometime, but I am far less happy than I was two months ago. It is my last day in Moscow and I am yet to write and to post the first entry about it. I was born here, lived here for 10 years and then haven't visited the place for 7 years. It changed a lot. Sometimes for the better, but in places, for the worse. Service standards are still bad, but not as bad as before. Or maybe over these years I've grown a thicker skin. If you speak Russian, it's easier to get insulted. But then, it easier to see the non-touristy side of Moscow. You choose. If your accent is weird enough like mine, you can sit on the fence, because they can never be really sure where you belong. Some observations. It is expensive. No let me say that again. It is effing expensive. Branded goods are about 30% more expensive than in Singapore and that only because they were having a promotion. Restaurants are expensive. Most are good, though, which is good, because in Singapore price guarantees nothing (where does it do it, anyway?). Since I forgot our family camera (family-sized too!) in my office, there will be no pictures. Anyway, I didn't really have the time to take them. The views were stunning in places. In good and bad ways. Life is full of ups and downs, you see. But because of the work schedule I could only really get out to town once. My colleagues were not really interested, especially not in the kind of sight-seeing that I do, which consists mainly of walking around and taking the city in, instead of hoping from one tourist spot to another. I am glad that they preserved the architecture, in contrast with Bangkok, where they just built skyscrappers all over, without giving much thought to city-planning. Nevertheless, disparities shine right though this newly gained gild of posh living. Some facilities are in disrepair, like public transport, but money goes elsewhere, into satisfying the needs of ultra-rich. I'm glad to have gone to Moscow. But I already miss Singapore. Moscow climate felt just right for me, as though my body remembered it all this while. I loved gobbling down large amounts of tasty Russian food. But I think too much like a Singaporean and what is worse, I feel like one too, although my lah's and aiyohs are almost non-existent. And hence, I'll be happy to be back. The mower stalled, twice; kneeling, I found A hedgehog jammed up against the blades, Killed. It had been in the long grass. I had seen it before, and even fed it, once. Now I had mauled its unobtrusive world Unmendably. Burial was no help: Next morning I got up and it did not. The first day after a death, the new absence Is always the same; we should be careful Of each other, we should be kind While there is still time. Stumbled across this poem yesterday and it made me cry. And I haven't cried over anything written in a book for a long time. Really long. Perhaps, since the day I've read Like Water for Chocolate. You know how it happens. You grow older and somehow less sensitive. It helps a lot when you don't break down every time something hits you, but it's tantamount to losing some personal touch. I'm still stunned by how this poem resonated with my mood of the past few days. Meaningless sudden death, realization of irreversibility of our actions, and most of all this notion of kindness. Lately, I've heards and said a lot of incredibly unkind things. And saw some kindness too, thankfully. |
Reading Now: The Shining, by Steven King |