Above all else, guard your heart, for it is the wellspring of life. – Proverbs 4:23
Thank you Jesus. I will learn to run with this.
I learnt a new stroke in class today, the backstroke! Despite not having been in the pool for the past 2 weeks, my front crawl seemed to have become a lot more fluid and natural so the instructor thought that I was good enough to proceed with a little more variety. It’s really strange (maybe, I was also tapering! 
), but I’m not complaining. 
The backstroke is funny but actually very enjoyable because my nose dosen’t feel as neglected, which saves me the torture after class. At this stage, I can’t balance properly on my back yet especially if I have my hands behind my head. Hence, I’m still flutter-kicking around in all directions with my hands by my side. As a result, I’ve been hitting my head on the wall. Hopefully, I get that resolved the next session or I’ll need to get some sort of a foamy swim cap.
5th lesson now, with 11 more to go. Once I get the backstroke right (decently enough), it will be the butterfly! Not too far away from having a common link with Phelps!
I’m flying out on the earliest flight tomorrow morning, to Vietnam again.
I was at the same place just three days ago for a training session. It was one of the bigger learning milestones for the year where we’ll get a hands-on experience in one of the biggest and most important events in product development by shadowing the leader for the project. Unfortunately, the situation was far less optimistic than the planned schedule. Multiple delays occurred and little was accomplished the whole four days we spent there. This unforeseen long delay resulted in clashes with pre-made plans, and both our boss and the project leader had no choice but to proceed with their original plans. Arrangements were then made for another senior colleague to fly out right after the weekend to take charge of the project as the R&D lead.
As it so happened, Murphy was in an incredibly foul mood. All events that could go wrong went terribly wrong (a passport that 2 weeks shorts of its validity period!), and before I could comprehend the situation, I would be on the next flight out…
I am sooooo scared!!! 3 days ago, I was in Vietnam to learn. 3 days later, I’m expected in the same place to “take charge”?! I’m really not sure how I can do that. I’ve understood the situation as well as I could have, gotten all the information I’ll might need, cleared all thoughts I had and simulated all the situations possible… but there’s no guarantee that it’ll be good enough. It’s such a major project I can’t imagine the consequences if I mess it up…(Well, perhaps I can imagine mine…)
The boss often asks: “What is your confidence level?” Mine this time? Barely over 60%…
Sigh, I have no experience to fall back on, only His Grace. There is probably nothing I can do but to trust that He will fill up the other 40%…
On a happier note, I’ve packed my luggage – no, bag. For the first time, I’m actually travelling light. Everything can easily fit into a daily bag, but I’m bring a duffel just in case I need to carry a large number of products back.
Tomorrow will be an exciting day.
Paris: 12-13, 21, 25-26 juillet 2008
Finally, after 2.5 years of diligently studying the beautiful language, reading the books and papers, and dreaming about that charming and romantic land, finally! I set foot in France! All thanks to my jet-setting job and my wonderful boss! We were having a meeting in Germany, and my boss, understanding ma passion française, granted me a week’s leave after the meeting for France! Thus, in the span of a 2-3 weeks, flights were changed to transiting via Paris instead of Frankfurt, side trips to Normandie and Provence were planned, TGV tickets and hotels were booked. And suddenly, I found myself in the most romantic city of light one beautiful Saturday morning!
I can’t even begin to describe the excitement I felt throughout the flight to Paris, and especially as the plane was touching down at Roissy. Had the landing been any softer, the sound of my heart dancing to the beat of Paris would have drowned the sound of the grinding of wheels against the tarmac! Oh, Pareeee!
Getting off the plane, and trying to get oriented around the rather messy Roissy airport somehow made me calmer, or at least composed enough to rehearse some nifty French phrases in my head. That proved to be pretty useful as things got started on a very interesting note.
However unlikely it may be, the first French phrase I spoke (apart from “Bonjour”) was actually “J’ai perdu mes baggages!” translated as “I lost my luggage!”! First time speaking French in France to a French; first time being understood in French in France by a French; first time losing luggage! Seriously, be gone with the luggage! I spoke and I was actually understood! Nothing could dampen that excitement. Regardless, my luggage came rolling out on the conveyor about an hour later, quite fortunately. It probably got mixed up with the luggage from another flight. A blessing in disguise perhaps, because the fact that I was understood the first time I spoke was a really big confidence booster. I was also soon to find out how pleasant the French can be if you speak their tongue!
paris - the most romantic city at night
Paris is a charming place. From the stunning architecture of the churches and palaces to the beautiful, hidden gardens and right down to the intricately composed graffit along the railway tracks, every nook’s a piece of history, every corner’s a work of art. It’s hard not to be absorbed by the magic of the place, regardless of how touristy it is.
Between traveling to Germany and back again, and then taking side trips to Normandie and Provence, I had about 4-5 days in Paris. I did the usual touristy stuff the first few days I was there – walking down Champs-Élysées from the Arc de Triomphe to the Place de la Concord, checking out Printemps and the Galeries Lafayette, visiting the Lourve, climbing to the Montmartre etc. Those are good things to do for a first visit, sort of like a check list against the many iconic pictures I’ve seen. However, it was during the last two days, when I slowed down my pace, partly due to fatigue from the near two weeks of coupled business and travel, and partly due to wanting to see Paris as a Parisian, that I appreciated the place more. Taking drawn-out two-hour lunches and chatting with the waiters, spending a good, long afternoon at the Musée D’Orsay until their closing time, strolling the hidden gardens, watching artists sketch and paint at the many quays, following the meander of the Seine, watching the many anonymous couples passing me, and even just quietly sitting on the Metro, eavesdropping on the French spoken all around me… Everything just felt very comfortable and very natural. Even the prospect of not being able to see the Eiffel tower in the night due to dinner commitments with friends, something I was looking forward to throughout, didn’t seem like a big loss anymore.
Anceins & L’Aigle, Normandie: 19-20 juillet 2008
normandie - bluest of skies, greenest of fields
The side trip to Normandie for a weekend stay at a dear friend’s farm was wonderful as well. Glorious blue skies and stretches of wide green fields dotted with summer wildflowers were all around. Things that I’ve not seen since I left the US, and things which I sorely, sorely miss. We went cycling and scooter-riding along the country roads, rolling around haystacks, riding on horses, lying on the field and smiling at the clouds… life really cannot be more pleasant. Watching my friend and her husband stroll hand-in-hand in their fields and tending to their horses, a big bubble of joy just surged within me. I can’t help but be extremely overjoyed by the love and happiness she has found in her life. I’m happy as well that I’ve been privileged enough to share these little moments with them for a little while. Against the backdrop of an almost foregone 12-year friendship, it was really all the more precious. I really look forward to her official French wedding day, where our group of childhood friends can be together and rejoice with her in her fields. Perhaps too, I secretly look forward to the day where a life as such can be mine as well…
The other side trip I took to Provence was probably the leg of the trip that I enjoyed the most. Also, it was a trip that I consider to be a ‘milestone’ in my life, the first time I travelled to a foreign place all alone. Even though it was with slight trepidation that I set forth on the journey, having booked the accomodation but having not the slightest idea how to get there, things turned out surprisingly well! My command of French somehow came into strong existence (probably a result of some practice in Paris itself), and with various permutations of “Comment est-ce que je peux aller à [place]?/Je voudrais aller à [place], est-ce que vous pouvez me donner la direction s’il vous plaît?”, I found my way around quite easily, even travelling from city to city. Along the way, I was even able to engage in little chats with the bus driver/waiter/receptionist/ladies at the bus stop in French! Nothing can brighten a day more than a simple “Vous parlez bien français!”. And to get more than a daily dose, it’s awesome!
Avignon, Pont du Gard, Arles, St. Rémy de Provence & Les Baux de Provence, Provence: 22-24 juillet 2008
Provence is a beautiful region. Warm, golden sunshine, lovely little wildflowers dotting pastures framed by the Alphilles mountains, endless olives trees and lavender fields… the region just sparkles with light and happiness. It’s no wonder Monet, Van Gogh, Cezanne, Hemingway, Fitzgerald and so many artistic or literary greats were so attracted to the place and had each painted the region with the colours of their own palette.
st. rémy - fields of purple
For me, Arles and St. Rémy de Provence were the main draw of the region because Van Gogh is my favourite artist and his greatest works were mostly accomplished in those two cities in a flurry of passion and insanity over a two-year period. The best and subsequently, the most tragic times in his life also occurred there. The greatest pain, the greatest art, perhaps. Which great artist had had an unscathed life? I can’t put a finger to what draws me so strongly to Van Gogh – his deep Christian faith; his supposed ‘uneducatedness’ but absolute mastery in five languages; the touching eloquence in his letters to his brother Theo; his scratchy sketches and swirling paintings of things simple yet sublime; the depth of his feelings and lucidity of thought…everything that belies the insanity of his mind. Having taken a walk through his mind via his works and his letters, I really wanted a walk with him. A walk to see the world he painted, to find his olive and cypress trees and to share his starry, starry night. And along the banks of the beautiful Rhône and across the little country roads in St. Rémy, a walk I got.
France is really beautiful. I’m glad that I know just enough of the language to get around and immerse myself in the culture, to be able to feel just a little less like a tourist. This trip has been a little baptism of fire for me and I’m proud to have emerged unscathed. More importantly, it has further steeled my will to continue, continue, continue with French, until I can truly, truly read, write and speak it. Hopefully, I’ll be another step closer to that day the next time la France m’enchante encore!
Which was yesterday.
For the first time in 2 years, I had a good day. First, I had a nice trip to the land of dreams to recollect with fond and thankful remembrance. Nicer still is coming back just one day before the birthday, and having to cope with jet lag and the work of a Monday, especially after being missing from the office for 2 weeks. It ensured that the day was kept busy with work, and the night with fatigue and residual excitement. Events that have been haunting me with especial viciousness on the same same fateful July day were for a moment a little further from mind.
Of all gifts, the greatest is the peace of mind. So, thank you Jesus, for a good yesterday. I pray that many a forgetful day like that would come my way. Amen.
