Closure of a Sort
School officially ended yesterday, so in a way it seems pretty appropriate to write a reflective piece of sorts. It’s a random whim of sorts, so it’s probably not worth reading.
Like many things I write (or end up not writing), I’ve spent a couple of days planning what I want to say, but in the end this is going to end up disorganised. If you’re reading this, I seek your indulgence, since it’s often best to write what you want to say DOWN BEFORE editing it.
Finalised overall grades.
(Thanks, Mr. Lee. I probably didn’t really deserve what you wrote for me - but I’ll try to live up to the ‘clear goal in life’ and ‘performed consistently well’ part. I’ll be in your care for the following year as well. どうぞよろしくお願いいたします。)
This year has been a hugely eventful one. The first year of high school on this strange island of Singapore is usually strange. It’s hectic - what would normally be two years’ worth of experience is often crammed into one, due to the 6-4-2 system here (as opposed to the American 4-year high school, or the Japanese 3-year senior high). Legacies of the British Empire. Anyway, here’s a quick review of the many silly (and not-so-silly) things I have done (or not) this year.
I began the year in oddly high spirits, since after a disastrous secondary four year I did not have a very hard act to follow. While I found myself not terribly interested in orientation and OG activities I somehow managed. I guess I was pretty fortunate to be assigned the class I was - with some old friends (Desmond, Changxing) and some not-so-old friends (Jon Yee). The abnormal number of subject combinations present in our class (over 10, according to Mr Lee our rather young Civics and Physics tutor) created some problems, particularly with the timetable. (Of course, later on *MY* timetable became what I’m convinced to be *ALMOST* the worst possible ever, but back then I found it pretty bad already). Nonetheless life was okay, and given that the brilliant people in class are mostly doing French competition was a little scattered. That was good, for by then I was clear that I wasn’t really in a position or a mood to compete in an environment in RJC (save in Japanese, where battles were fought, won and lost with surprising frequency and unpredictability). So all was good, in general.
Of course, the first year in high school’s always full of opportunities. On CCA selection this perhaps turned out to be overkill, for I found myself signing up for six or so CCAs (if I recall correctly). While I am generally happy with the choice of my ‘core’ CCAs (Archery, Club Alchemy [akin to a chemistry society of sorts] and Astronomy), my ‘fringe’ CCAs suffered (photography and RECAS [Economics and Current Affairs]). It’s really a question of time, and since Archery (a sport, implying it must typically be given top priority) took up the really popular Wednesday afternoon timeslot I found myself unable to commit to RECAS, which would in fact appeal most to my academic instincts. I found myself running for CCA leadership in Astronomy and Alchemy, losing in the former and winning a post as treasurer in the second. As events turned out, Alchemy meetings were moved to Wednesdays from Thursdays due to Olympiad training scheduling. That implied that I have been missing (and will continue to miss) every single Alchemy meeting from now on. It’s a source of regret that I just can’t get rid of. In any case, token involvement in CCA isn’t so much of a surprise to me - since I’ve had a taste of it in junior high, largely not by my choice.
Olympiads. Perhaps it’s the greatest source of regret, in a sense. As things turned out, I didn’t make it for a single one. This in itself would perhaps be a nasty aftertaste for years to come, unless I happen to grow up just a little more (which I get the feeling that I am on the verge of doing). In any case, the subject is a little too painful to brook much discussion.
Research. Another mess-up. I had vastly underestimated the amount of time I would need to put into it (particularly the travelling; goddamn it, I hate the travelling). Coupled with my blunder in choosing a chemistry project (at the same time as my interest in chemistry went from pretty high [due to secondary school research] to practically rock-bottom [due to the curriculum]), and the unbearable conditions in the lab (without air conditioning - just at a time when I’m losing tolerance of non-air-conditioned environments; but then again I should have expected it), plus my schedule I found myself exhausted before too long. So now I am not doing any research - traditionally something practically compulsory for entrance into any decent school on the other side of the Pacific. More on the college problem later.
Scholarship (or lack thereof). As usual like a fool I did not realize how important secondary school results were in determining scholarship eligibility (and I thought 3.6 was pretty good; but NO they JUST had to look purely at the number. And not even a glance at my secondary 3’s respectable. 3.87). Ok fine I should stop pretending to be humble and self-deprecating - no one told me it would count. Though to be really honest (resentment is another thing - that I have pretty much of) I don’t really deserve any scholarship, since to the government it would be the closest thing to printing money and burning it. But in the end it’s a chicken and egg problem - by not giving me much reason to feel grateful or anything to this country it is steeling my determination to leave and never come back - but not without hurting my chances of leaving in the first place by preventing me (to a limited but potentially significant extent) from obtaining impressive records. So for me to not receive the DSTA, A*STAR or Language Elective Scholarships, the country (since not everything’s controlled by the government) has pretty much made it clear that it doesn’t value me. That’s not unfair. By quid pro quo I am also making it clear that I don’t give a rat’s ass about this country either. Any sense of obligation or duty I owe would be to the people I have gotten to know (generally very nice to me - I’ll try not to forget who they are, be it peers, seniors or teachers), and I owe none to the State.
Given that my academic performance in general is nothing stellar (though compared to many others I have a better record in that I have only one non-’A’ grade - a ‘B’ for chemistry in the overall results - no credit to the State; only to myself and the teachers [who are remarkably nice people actually, much more like Miss Niu as opposed to someone called O** back in RI]), a mediocre CCA involvement record (due to my strategic blundering and lethargic nature; no excuses for this), a non-existent research record (also my own fault), a non-existent Olympiad record (arguably completely my own fault as well), and a non-existent scholarship record (mostly the State’s fault, but I’ll share some of the blame as well), I can’t really go to the traditional seichi 聖地 of higher education - the Atlanto-Pacific Federation. Or, at the very least, the colleges over there aren’t going to give me financial aid, no matter how brilliant my essays are (and in general they aren’t - I’m not a Commonwealth Essay winner like Mr. Tan Juanhe). With all this in mind, I have come to the conclusion that I have maybe four realistic options.
1. Go to Waseda University [admission probably guaranteed; partial financial aid likely; abject poverty anticipated] and get a degree that may or may not be worth the investment. But at least I’ll get to see a little of the screwedupness Murakami Haruki often described in his books.
2. Go to Peking University [chances of admission questionable; affordable; degree value questionable] and risk getting stabbed for saying the wrong thing (unless I somehow grow to love the PRC, which isn’t real likely).
3. Attend a college in Singapore [a foreign one mind you - like the UOL degree programs in Singapore. Or at best SMU. At least Kino’s not too far away.]
4. Commit seppuku or some other more tasteful form of suicide - this is a last resort to be adopted when all options above fail.
It’s probably a little strange to be contemplating suicide as a form of ‘career advancement’, but as with most things I say I am dead serious. I mean, people in China and Japan routinely commit suicide when they fail to get into good colleges, right? Not that I’m trying to start such a tradition in conservative, somewhat un-Asian Singapore, but it seems sort of appropriate to follow the sons and daughters of my twin cultures (my inherited Chinese and adopted Japanese cultures).
However, I am not exactly in the mood for suicide, because Ayako-sama’s influence is quite effective in restraining any rash action. A quick dose of 「patch of blue sky」 will fix what calm, measured words can’t. Also there’s the off chance that the State or Lady Luck would want to get rid of my poor breathing self by having me run over by a speeding car or blown to bits by a live grenade during slavery (come on - conscription is slavery, no matter how you look at it. Just because it’s required by law and minimally compensated doesn’t make it any less ’slavery’ by moral standards. And for fuck’s sake I don’t intend to be a citizen a day longer than I can help, so no way I’m going to risk this (almost-worthless, to be true) life for something I don’t give much of a shit about.). While the possibility is remote to be sure, I am not discounting it. Remember? My adopted culture is one that has to deal with earthquakes and volcanic eruptions on a regular basis. Not counting civil war and messy modern-era mass conflicts. Now that the high-economic-growth era is over, we’re all on some level, preparing to die (albeit a slow and painful death caused by abject poverty from the collapse of our demography and economy due to the ageing population and social security thingy).
Come to think of it, my inherited culture is also one that happens to enjoy enslaving young men and porting them off to serve as cannon fodder or labor to build massive white elephants (heard of the *GREAT* Wall?) So maybe it’s just my bad luck to have been born into a ‘conservative, Confucian’ society that still places extra responsibilities (involving life and limb, no kidding) on half the population while the other half refuses to do its assigned duty (yeah going into labor’s a pain; but it’s not life-threatening in modern times, kiddo. Military training probably kills more people [bets on how many women?] than childbirth does [any bets on how many men?].)
Whatever.
I’d rather get bayoneted by a vengeful boy of seventeen indoctrinated to murder Japanese in the middle of Tiananmen after being dropped in by parachute, blown to smithereens by an antiship missile carried by a Sovremmny-class destroyer while trying to fire torpedoes in the Sea of Japan, or vaporised without a trace by a thermonuclear weapon dropped/fired on Tokyo while re-reading Norwegian Wood than to be blown up by a Singapore Technologies-manufactured grenade or a Malaysian rifle bullet on some muddy field or jungle in the tropics.
Don’t get me started on the tropics. I can’t stand the rainstorms. I’d take a typhoon once a year or so over fifty thunderstorms a year.
Anyway for next year:
1. Do more translation. This year’s production volume sucked. Gotta fix it. Target: 20 songs.
2. Get A for chemistry and keep up the decent work for other subjects. (meaning straight As)
3. Come to a decision on where to go for college. This isn’t going to be easy, but I’ll try and manage somehow.
4. Write a decent paper for Japanese Studies. (HSSRP-level or better)
5. Write at least 30,000 words for my private writing projects. (not in draft - but in finalized form)
6. Get 2350 or above for SAT1.
7. Score 5s for Micro, macroecons, Physics C E&M, and whatever other APs I may be taking. Qualify for National AP Scholar (meaning 8 exams, minimum 4 each). Get the AP Scholar with Distinction Award and the APID.
8. Get 3 800s for SATII.
9. Get over 350 for Japanese as a Foreign Language on the EJU.
10. Win an essay contest (any language, any prize)
11. Tell Ayako-sama my feelings for her. This is just in case I suddenly drop dead without ever having something to show for my feelings.
12. Of course, get a perfect score for the nasty, evil A levels. (meaning perfect As)
That’s a lengthy list.
Back to the Chinese textbook.