awkward

It is quite a wonderful thing to be able to sit in a room full of people whose passion echoes your own. Something rekindles itself like candle inside. It makes my heart leap in ways, so familiar as before my trip to Guatemala and Belize a few years ago. I think this is the same kind of fluttery you feel when you fall in love.

Or maybe I am just weird.

De ja -encore

I was staring into blank space. In the presence of deans and faculty members, standing on my pair of $10 black new heels my dad bought for me three months ago. I was hit with a sudden deja vu. No- maybe it was a recollection. A memory. Distilled from when I was in first year, around right about the same time. It was in March as well, in 2010.

I was discussing human trafficking back then, at Baker's Grill with the deans and faculty. And was the only one of the two students seated. Now here I am, standing with seven other students prep-talking myself in my head for a presentation. To share my experiences on Belize, and express my gratitude to the faculty for supporting the cause.

It puzzles me where the three years flew by. What confused me even more, was the whole presence of the dean and faculty was where it all began. And there I was this morning, about to present an end.

I was feeling nauseous. I couldn't tell if it was nervousness, or the cup of coffee I had mixing with my empty stomach. Or if it was simply the thought of being done university, hitting my core like a brick. I was caught off-guard by the reality of it all, I actually booked a grad-photo appointment as if I was on autopilot.

So much has happened in the years, that I have had little time to process....
For what it's worth, I know a lot of experiences have shaped me.

But it is still too early for nostalgia, yet.

Post-departure

I found the objectivity I was searching for. It was in the eyes of the thirteen people who sat around me. And it was in the affirmative tone of my voice, when I shared I will not be returning to Guatemala this year.

I found closure.
& clarity.

Punta Gorda, Belize

The gourd juice is leaving an after taste in my tongue. It is much too sweet. And I feel it dissolving to the back of my throat, mixing with the salty breaths of the ocean I am breathing. I am staring at the distance, where the purple orange horizon burn the lines of the ocean. The breeze lulls my mind away from the present. Into a space so far from here...

So much of this experience triggers memories and thoughts of my cultural identity. It is as if the Caribbean waves synchronizes itself to my heartbeat. Continuously, persistently...revealing to my minds eye: of who I am, who I have been all these while, in spite of where I have been and everything around me.

To my left, there are concrete houses by the shore, erected as if to defend from the vastness of the sea. If Punta Gorda is a kingdom, I wonder what struggles and sweetness it has endured. And I wonder how they compare to my own.

Belize puzzles me. Or maybe I am just thinking too much, like I always do, trying to make sense of everything around me.

I have seen caves, swam creeks, hiked into jungles, and now I am staring at the sea...
I have embraced a lot of things this country has offered me. And now I can feel the ocean's wind blowing frantically against me, reminding me to breathe.

& for some reason, I am reminded of mama's words, "seeing the world of creations, without forgetting the Creator"-

Thinking I finally understand now,
Believing, I can see it objectively now
Knowing, what it means to let go-
only to be begin again.

This is me. In full circle again. In Punta Gorda, just like once I was in Panajachel staring at the majestic Atitlan last year, witnessing the creations, and feeling the Creator's gaze upon me. As the wind sinks into my skin, as if to envelop me...

I feel tiny.
But differently.

-from my journal, written 22/02/13 at Asha's Kitchen dock, Punta Gorda, Belize.

Photocredit: Omar Khan

Things I have learned in Belize

• Belize's official language is English. But people speak Creole, Spanish, and Mayan dialects
• It is multicultural, consisting of Maya, Garifuna, Mestizo and many other heritages
• Education is based on Carribean curriculum
• Before entering high school, there is an exam called Pre-Secondary Exam which students have to sit for in their final primary school year (grade 6).

• Lubaantun is a Mayan temple with parts of it ruined by western archeologists' use of explosive for excavation.
• Since then, the locals would measure to precision the position and location of a rock/soil/sand before its removal
• A crystal skull was found in Lubaantun, however nobody knows who has it to date.
• Hair pieces, flutes and clay pieces continue to be discovered at the site
• Lubaantun was also a court for a mesoamerican ball game

• Paved roads were promised by Britain (Belize was a British colony) for years
• Recent construction of highways near villages anticipates a lot of movement which could be problematic
• Roads mean easier movement of drugs and gangs, which could increase violence
• However, it may also be beneficial to cut down travel time: as many students used to wake up at 3 am to bus for their 7am class

• Guatemala and Belize have an ongoing territorial conflict
• Claim made by Belize is that Guatemala does not respect the boundary
• There is a referendum in October to determine if the case should be brought to the International Courts
• Most Belizean (government and locals in San Pedro) are hesitant to take the matter to the courts, and would rather handle on their own (less formal).
• Guatemala has a bigger population than Belize.
• MLA (Maya Leaders Alliance) in Belize is a strong group which represents the rights of the Maya peoples. This group is also supported by Canadian and American lawyers
• The Toledo district (where San Pedro Columbia is located at), is a territory which risks being lost to Guatemala in this conflict.
• No formal border control between Guatemala and Belize

• A hydro plant near Tiger Cave generates electricity
• However the people of San Miguel and San Pedro have protested against the expansion of this plant
• Effects of pollution have caused traces of oil and mercury which lead to skin diseases
• Members of the MLA bring up issues such as these to the government.
• The MLA members are elected by the villages.

• Construction/labour work pays $2.50/$3.00 BZD per hour
• work is about 8 hours per day, but may be required to work overtime
• Work varies, depending on available companies
• Sometimes, travel and accomodation costs are not compensated
• Malaysian companies frequently visit for mahogany wood

• Traditional techniques of cultivating cacao beans continue to be practiced by the Maya community
• They are organic, environmentally friendly and sustainable methods
• Cacao was currency back in the Maya civilization.
• Only the rich in the Mayan history would drink cacao, as it was money. Approx. 100 beans could buy a human slave (ironic considering trafficking occurs today to cultivate cacao in Cote D'Ivoire).
• Today, locals have turned down multinational companies such as Nestle and Hershey because of their exploitative regimes
• Chocolates are traditionally made without using milk because grazing cows take up a lot of rainforest land. Also, sugar cane is used as the only sweetener to their chocolates (i.e. no other chemicals).

Overall, I'd say they are pretty advanced in terms of environmental sustainability...

Impressions: Belize

Garifuna music serenaded me while I waited for my red luggage at the airport. Now pondering faces stare out the window, at the lush greenery Belize has to offer. I am sitting on this blue school bus, with warm wind ferociously blowing at my face, brushing my hair in a chaotic frenzy. Inhaling the humidity mixed with dirt/soil of central American air....an atmosphere triggering familiarity.

The country roads remind me of Malaysia. With its complimentary tall coconut and palm trees. Wooden houses in my peripheral vision evoking memories of my great-grandmother's in Melaka.

It is funny how my identity resurfaces and these images tug at my roots. Especially when I am so far from home. It is funnier how Malay songs automatically stream into my earphones from my cheap mp3 player, setting the mood. Coincidence? Or maybe Belize is trying to tell me something...

Passing by shambles for houses. Young boys burning garbage with skin as copper-coloured as my own. A photograph Omar once showed me, of his grandmother burning garbage in Malaysia suddenly entered my minds' eye.

I wonder what else Belize will bring...

-written from my journal in Belize City, to San Pedro Columbia 16/02/13

Disclosure to closure

The night was cold. But as was every of the 8 nights in El Novillero. But I suppose there was something about that night that caused a surge of warmth inside of me. In the back corner of my mind, I knew my emotions played a role in generating this subtle heat. I was volatile. Fragile and filled with feelings I could not comprehend. At any given moment, I knew could burst or break. But what kept me together was the presence of sixteen others around me. 

And the basketball.
The dark brown, and barely inflated ball being thrown around seventeen of us.
And I thought then. That if a flimsy ball was capable of withholding what little left of air in it, then I could contain myself. It was reassuring in some weird way to believe that I was made of rubber. 

So we sat and some of us sang, whispered and reflected. All seventeen of us, on the cement court between two nets. The very court that soaked our sweat for a week. Where the highland sun blazed and burnt our skin. Where little Maya Kiche girls and boys giggled and teased me into distraction, between wheeling wheelbarrows and shovelling gravel. Now all I hear are echoes of their laughters and apparitions of their infectious smiles...


At some point, we laid on our backs, against the cold, grey ground. In silence.

The infinite stars above me. Winking away at almost every inch of the darkness. I searched for the Big Dipper, and could barely locate it. I finally found my voice to question my friends if it was possible to see Big Dipper from Guatemala. Someone responded affirmatively, yes.

The only constellation I had ever known to trace in my lifetime. The very one that willingly reveals itself to me almost every time I sought for it. The same one that I saw on the bus to Montreal on the way to the airport before our flight...Big Dipper had camouflaged itself into its peers of million others.


And I was taken aback.At the beauty designed into perfection above, and presented itself to me. The universe opened itself. I felt tinier than the stars above. And the hills and mountains all around offered relief. I was overwhelmed, yet my heart was full. Filled with love I could not tell then if I deserved. I was experiencing seventy-five emotions at once, then finally I found calmness.


Like I understood everything, in that moment of epiphany. My surrounding- from the sky to the ground- embodied an experience I had frequently thought about only in my head and would sometimes reveal with words. It was surreal. My train of thoughts turned into a physical experience, resonated by the stars, sky, and earth around me. It was a moment of disclosure and of closure. 


I realized how infinitesimal I was. How vulnerable. My existence was limited, and my capabilities are restricted to what was prescribed to me. I became aware of my fragility, and how fallible I was. All throughout my twenty years, I have been teasing with the idea of "changing the world". The thought had sowed ego, yet at the very moment I felt weak. Yet it was that moment of weakness that I realized, I am only human. There is a higher Being, and He knows me.


I accepted everything thrown to me. I accepted that my stay in a country I had made my own, was temporary. I accepted that I may have been a foreigner, but this earth is my home and not mine alone. I accepted that I have a place to return to, and more tasks to fulfil. I accepted that it was possible to know love, even if language is incapable of expressing.


And probably the most sobering thought was this. I accepted that I am confined to my limitations as a human, and although I will never change the world, I know I am capable of some things. And these things begin with myself. I am capable of loving, sharing, helping and learning.



The night was a gift.
And as many have promised eternity before the stars, I knew this was a memory that will last eternally with me.

And it has. This is a memory conjured up so frequently. Often during my darkest days. Upon my return, I have often found relief and comfort from reflecting on this memory. It serves as a constant reminder of who I am and what I am capable of. More than anything, it reminds me that I can be anywhere yet still be at home....as long as the sky and stars still hover above me. And as long as I have faith sown within me.

My little goal.

Two days ago, I bumped into a former colleague who teased me about my nose. Last I saw him, I was sunburnt only around the nose. For some reason, the comment stirred an idea...

Today, I have pinned up two printed photos from my Guatemala trip in February and a postcard of Lago de Atitlan I bought from Panajachel on my cubicle. I guess in some way, the photos serve as a motivational mechanism. I do plan on going back to El Novillero again next year.

How Guatemala seems more homely to me than my own birth country continues to puzzle me.

Right now, I am REALLY missing this little guy and his infectious smile....

Support and Send Me to Guatemala!

Hi everyone,

This coming February, I will be joining 80 students from Carleton University to partake in an opportunity called Alternative Spring Break (ASB). ASB is a service-learning program offered by the Carleton University’s Student Experience Office.  As part of this program, I am expected to fundraise as a means to offset the travel and program costs and I am seeking your support in achieving my fundraising goals


While we are privileged with a decent educational system here, I will be helping to repair the infrastructure of the school there during my reading week. The goal of this trip is to engage is Community Service Learning, where I will be participating in volunteering activities at Aldea el Novillero, in Guatenala, to assist with indigenous Maya Quiche community. While the focus is on the local community, we are encouraged to embrace a more interconnected approach and consider similar issues in our home communities. 


I will be documenting my trip into a video, sharing my reflections and blogging my experience here. At this time I am seeking your support. I am responsible for the costs associated with the trip including airfare, accommodations, and food. If you are able to contribute to these activities, donations of any kind would be greatly appreciated. By providing me the opportunity to participate in ASB, you are helping me to create positive change through community service across Canada and around the world.

Thank you!

Sincerely,
Shafiqah Muhamad Nor

P.S. Click below to contribute

Odyssey

Your sword is the intellect. Sharpened by curiosity, driven by carved curve of rights and wrongs. Of morality. The shield beats in your chest. Like a war drum, a rhythm of lust. An impulse, of weakness subordinated by fidelity. The dawn marks your pursuit, that begins like the Roman conquest. An allusion to your fortune, is the unpredictability of the storm and the salvation of the ocean's waves.

Let your spirit wander, in search of guidance.

Satisfy your curiosity.

The gold is hidden in imperfection.

Stamped & Validate

2 months until Guatemala.
My passport is finally renewed from twice being returned after filling up wrong forms. The consular at the counter asked if I wanted to keep the expired copy. My first Canadian passport. How could I resist? I vaguely remember the process we had to go through, to validate our citizenship and apply for a 'blue' passport. Singapore's passport was traditionally red.

Almost six years ago, I was seated with my parents and sisters at sketchy Central Parkway Mall. With what excitement we had at the thought of becoming Canadian citizens. Between giggling at our mugshots and endless wait time that felt like forever....

As I sat with O, waiting for my number to appear on the screen (it was A118), I couldn't help but wonder where my life will take me in another six years when my new passport expires. Perhaps it will have had more travel stamps than my first Canadian one, with only 3 countries (Thailand, Singapore and Malaysia). Maybe post-Guatemala will have opened more doors for more travelling trips and humanitarian adventures. God willing.

....Or maybe I will not only be renewing just my passport.....but er, some little one's? At age 27, lugging around diapers and stroller...oh gosh. But that sounds just about as scary as it could possibly (maybe 60%) be real. I'll think about that after I finish grad school.

But I couldn't resist putting my imagination to words, because someday when I am 35, I may possibly be laughing while reading this blog post at what ridiculous and immature thoughts I currently have....

Cafe au lait

My day was bittersweet.
Like a cup of cafe au lait. If anything, there ought to be a Fair Trade Guatemalan brewed coffee in this cafe au lait. Lately, this is my new favorite coffee after all.

I'd dreaded the arrival of this day, for reason that a last minute mandatory workshop had conflicted Eid-al Adha. For the second Eid in a row, I was absent from the family portrait. I was not impressed by the person I had become, especially in putting forth ambitions ahead of love. I walked into the Civic Centre for prayers this morning, heart hidden under my sleeve, fighting back tears. As melodramatic as I may sound, I admit that I am probably the most sensitive person you'd ever know.

The mass of congregation made me feel home for a moment. With every Arabic pronunciation echoing off the walls, I felt His presence. I knew He had willed that I overcome this day somehow, it was a test of faith. I watched the faces of little ones lit up, in their dresses and shirts holding hands with their parents, and was reminded of the fundraising Eid dinners my parents actively volunteered, in our local mosque back in Mississauga. It felt ages ago. Then, the thought of volunteer as an act of worship instantly rationalized as I listened to the Imam's khutbah.Which became an overarching framework of my day.

The workshop I attended in the afternoon was one of the pre-departure sessions mandatory for my upcoming trip to Guatemala. I have been selected after a group interview and an application process, to participate in the Alternative Spring Break Program. I have saved up much from my summer employment, with this as a goal. I will be departing in February for a week, to engage in community service learning.

I was first to enter the room. And while I made small talks and hid behind smiles, I am both excited and nervous for this trip. Nervous, because I fear this trip will leave me cynical from my tendencies to overthink and be too critical of what I see. But I comfortably settled myself with the team, and although much icebreaking still needs to be done as a group, I am grateful we all share the same passion. 

The difference between community service learning and volunteerism is the structure in place. There is an exchange in knowledge in CSL, through assisting while learning of the different cultures, norms, lifestyles, and needs. Volunteering is a unilateral process, a simple act of giving. There is much reflection involved in CSL. We are encouraged to journal our thoughts, and I have decided to label and blog the translated thoughts I put into words. Essentially, the notepad shall be my rough copy, and the refined materials will be published here, under the label 'Alternative Spring Break.' 

This Guatemala trip, although for a week, is aimed at transforming us into active citizens. In first year, I remember complaining how overwhelmed I had become, from absorbing all the systematic issues existing in the world. Funny thing was, I walked into the room this morning, fearing apathy or cynicism upon returning from Guatemala. I have always dreamed of this trip, and I am in the process of  turning this into a reality. But somehow, I am afraid of ending up just as overwhelmed after.

To my surprise,  the workshop spoke of abolishing the imperial-moral perception, the paternalistic idea of us as 'advantaged' individuals 'taking-care' of the 'less fortunate'. The fact is, that irregardless of what I do, I am expected my return from Guatemala learning something new. This program emphasizes the importance of an exchange in knowledge. Exchanging ideas and learning the lifestyle and ways of the people, without imposing.

With a new found perspective, and awareness, I am obligated to change my worldviews and ways as an active citizen. Being morally conscious of my actions, and its impact to others, is leadership. Everybody is a leader. It is not my destination in Guatemala that matters, but the journey before, during and after. The world is subjective, and  I have been observing from a restricted pair of glasses too comfortably...

I walked out of the workshop, feeling motivated. This pieced the puzzle of my day together...bittersweetly like my favorite cup of coffee.

Foreign and Unknown

A tourist finds exoticism from the foreign lands,
His heart is hidden where he calls his home.
But a traveler finds home in the lands unknown,
The luggage of a traveler,
Is where he hides his heart.