Tales of a Solitary Soul

Last night, I attended my graduation banquet and it was definitely in stark contrast to the high school experience. High school graduation banquet was a fad, a culmination of peer pressure and fear of the unknown. For some, it was to become the most memorable night of their lives while others were just there because an absence would otherwise be treated with open mouth shocks and wide eyed bewilderment for the remaining two weeks of school.

It was a meaningless celebration to commemorate an accomplishment which was anything but. A shiny brand new expensive suit was mandatory, arriving in a limo was a requirement as if Palestine had been conquered, and of course, most felt it was their rightful duty to be completely wasted by midnight. A date was considered fashionable but going with friends was still respectable. Better not to come than commit the gravest of sins -- going alone.

We were frogs in a well for whom the world didn't exist outside the hollow circular walls, barriers so weak they were almost imaginary. Self imposed shackles of ideals paper thin, myopic and of little substance. Its been five long years and an even longer path to where I stand now. I don't refer to the university degree for it's just a piece of paper that does little to define a person.

Last night, I wore the same suit I've had for five years and with my sister, we headed off to the banquet in a car that would have been unthinkable if I was still inside the well.

Labels: banquet, graduation, high school, university

A story related by a close friend:

I was headed home from university with a scheduled switchover at the Southgate bus terminal. The temperature had dropped significantly and the wind had also picked up so it was not the most pleasant of times to be out and about. I made my way towards the heated confines of the terminal, already packed with weather refugees.

High school kids, their identity revealed by carefree attitudes, tired shoppers with their fingers wrapped around the shopping bags, and the arching backs of the university students, under the mighty weight of their overpriced books formed the general populace that chattered away amicably. It seemed like a social circus of sorts, each person engulfed in a conversation to hurry the slow ticking clock.

Three wooden benches were strewn together in the shape of a T with a strategically placed garbage can at their junction point. I watched as an older gentleman, in his 50s or so, began to sift through the trash. He wasn't badly dressed nor did foul odor emanate from his presence so it was surprising to see him do that. I felt disdained for a moment. Not being able to find any bottle or cans, he disappeared into the crowd. I pitied him, wondering what circumstances force someone to look for 10 cent cans to fill an empty stomach.

Before the matter could be given any more thought, my bus docked itself at the terminal. I hurried out only to find a long line had already formed meaning the frosty weather would be a companion for a few more minutes. As I stood there, staring at the streams of cars that zipped back and forth, I saw him again. He was now searching through another trash can in the cold weather, without as much as gloves.

I walked over to him but he was intensely busy in his search for survival to pay any heed. Not sure what went through my head but I pulled out a $5 bill, thinking he would consider it to be blessing. After all, he would have to collect 50 bottles to make that much. As I put the $5 bill infront him, he stopped for a second and stared at me intently as if he's seen a ghost. Then he remarked, "No!"

I was dumbfounded. In sheer ignorance, I had assumed that every poor person is a beggar.. I walked away ashamed at myself. The world is full of surprises, where sometimes paupers are nobler than princes.

Labels: bus, lesson, Southgate, university, weather

I walked out of the ETLC computer lab today to take a break from the grueling 8 hour a day routine, only to discover the main hallway littered with high school students impatiently waiting for this year's model UN. Decided to sit in on the proceedings of the UN Legal Committee, discussing the definition of aggression by nation states. Of course, just like the real UN, they couldn't reach a definite conclusion.

Earlier, someone behind me was discussing the combination of entertaining read and zero literary value that the Da Vinci Code makes. I turned around to agree upon which he remarked, "Are you not the one that likes to read Gabriella Garcia Marquez?"

It was over a year ago that I had given an impromptu talk in class about Chronicles of a Death Foretold by Marquez. I had talked about the feeling of losing yourself in the secluded Latin American town where time stood still. He had bought the book, apparently intrigued by my discussion of Marquez's writing style of magic realism.

Then he went on to recommend Ulysses. Not so sure if I'm ready for James Joyce yet.

Labels: Books, Da Vinci Code, James Joyce, Marquez, Ulysses, university

International Week at the U of A:

Tuesday
Killercoke.org: Fighting Power with Power (12.00pm - 1.20pm in Dinwoodie Lounge)
Buduburam 16 Years Later: A Case Study in Protracted Refugee Situations (5.00pm in International House Meeting Room)
Keynote Address: Water and Human Security, A Thirst for Survival (7.30pm ETLC 001)

Wednesday
Individual Responsibility to Alleviate Poverty (2.30pm in Alumni Room)

Thursday
Change Your Lens: View the World (10.30am in International House Meeting Room)
Terror is in the Eyes of the Beholder (3.30pm V-Wing 102)

Friday
Food For Thought (10.00am International House Meeting Room)
Tar Sands as a Weapon of Mass Destruction (11.00am in Timms Centre Lobby)

Labels: International week, politics, university

I'm asked the same question over and over again by wide eyed kids, beginning their long and often painful yet hoped to be a worthy journey called post secondary education. What year am I?

What should I say? Fifth year going into my sixth and only my Bachelor's to show for it? Or take the easy way out by claiming it to be my last two terms in school and dodging it altogether?

First year is a distant memory yet it's etched in some corner of my mind to resurface at the most awkward of moments. Just the other day, I was sitting with someone who has already graduated when a couple of first years stopped to talk. They wanted advice on how survive in the jungle, to get ahead in the rat race.

I walk through the familiar hallways blindfolded, the same path I've taken for years. The sun is about to set and I have a long way to go.

Labels: university