When one asks for a life...

... One ends up the emergency ward of a hospital, amongst lots of other things.

So I started having the semblance of a life, since my last post. I have a casual job - Star's aunty hired us to be office hands every now and again - and I've got two clients to tutor. I went to a couple of friends' houses. On the Friday - I think it was last Friday, I finally got to get together with Lindy-lou. We've been trying to hang out for ayyyges, but she's the polar opposite of me - she has this crazy life that's packed with... lifey stuff. So on the Friday, she had this one break, and BAM, we decided to chill.

We watched Lars and the Real Girl. I think it's a good movie, but we were in the mood to just take the mickey out of everything, so we couldn't take it seriously. Also, she has this adorable kitty who was just so distracting... and yeah. The movie became a background feature. Then we played games - this block tower-y one, Uno, and some brain teasers on her laptop. Her grandmother made us pizza, and I got to introduce her to the wonderful world of Fear of a Brown Planet. It was nice and relaxing and fun, but the whole time, my feet were just freezing. I had my good ol' purple tinged fingernail/toenail thing going on, and no matter how much I tried to tuck them away, I couldn't get the cold out of them. Also, Lindy just giving me cold Coke, and I drank it because I felt obligated to, and it was so hard to swallow... and I knew I was coming down with something.

When I walked home, I sat down, and it was just a downward spiral. My voice was all stuffy, my head was all hot, but the rest of me was freezing, and although I made it through one tutoring session, I missed out on class because I tried to go to sleep - I use 'tried', because it was just this awful haze of tossing and turning, freezing and sweating, and... gosh, it was terrible.

But I think it looked a lot worse, because when my mother was getting me to go to my own bed (I'd settled into hers), I had tears running down my face. I was not crying; it was more like the hay-fever kind of tears, uncontrollable, but not like you're actually sobbing and weeping. But I couldn't tell her it was okay, because, as I said, my voice was stuffy.

So I was forced to go to the doctor the next day, and he said it was tonsillitis. He didn't explain much, like how you get it or anything, he just prescribed some tablets that I was supposed to take for ten days. I thought 'cool', although I had a slight worry here:

A week ago, on the Wednesday, my Islamic teacher asked me if I'd do a speech for the Jewish Christian Muslim Association (JCMA) Women's Conference. I was figuring out the most polite way to decline, because honestly, speeches, though I can do them, if I have a choice, I prefer not to. Also, I need time, and a certain mood to build up some passion for the topic, you know? (The topic was how I (in a religious context) help 'repair the world'). But before I could say no, my charming older sister said YESOFCOURSESHE'LLDOIT, and my mother heard and insisted that there was no point asking me about such things, the key is just to order me to do it. (To be fair, she's right. But still.) So I was roped into doing this speech, and although I sent my teacher a rough draft, the day before the speech she still hadn't sent me the edited version, and I had some nasty tonsillitis.

So it had to get worse, right? At night (my teacher still hadn't sent me the speech), my ... illness... just exploded. I donno, I couldn't breathe, basically - like my nose was stuffed up, breathing through my mouth (i.e. tonsils) just killed, and so as I heaved and choked and those tears just kept pouring (I was not crying), my mother called my daddy and said I had to go to the emergency ward.

First time for everything.

Uhm... basically, it was a lot of waiting. Waiting at the receptionist, so she could fill out details and stuff. Waiting in the emergency ward for the nurse, and then for the doctor. The hours just ticked by. They asked me the same questions, I gave them the same answers, and honestly, between all the waiting, the can't-breathe sensation just died. I could've gone home, but the doctor said I should hang around for the night just in case. I wanted to be all grown up - and okay, I was a little embarrassed, too - so I told my dad he could just go home. It was really hard to sleep, because the hospital was just ... always alive, I guess. I mean, it makes sense. But the lights were on and people were constantly pacing and it felt like day time, and I don't really sleep during the day. This nurse was also constantly checking my blood pressure, and the cannula they had jabbed into my arm was irritating, and... and the lady in the bed next to me - I couldn't see her - but throughout the night, at various intervals, this nurse kept asking her to pee... "Scarlett, I need you to do a wee for me. Scarlett, hon, please get up and wee. Scarlett, you have to wee for me, in this cup. No - Scarlett, you have to wee, you can wee after I get you the drink then. Scarlett, WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

Not the perfect soundtrack to fall asleep to.

Anyhow, at 6am, they jabbed some kind of medicine into me (after giving me a lemony icy pole), and kind of fast tracked the tonsillitis curing process, so that I was good to go after. I mean, my voice was still weird, and I think I had a cold still, but the tonsillitis was gone, for sure.

So about 9am, I get home. I had to tutor my other client at 10am. In between, I had to get ready to leave about 11am (though we ended up leaving at like 11:30am.) And I had about two or three chances to read my speech and try to learn what I could.

The conference... was full of old people. I expected more younger girls, so I had an informal kind of speech, with a lot of colloquialisms thrown in. But I think I was the youngest there... and it was awkward. Apparently I did okay (they kind of sold me as some kind of hero, like, oh my, did you know she was in hospital last night and she just got out this morning?), which is fun, I guess, but I hate it when they do it when you're around, you know? I don't do compliments really well, so it was just a whole lot of 'yeah, uhm, thanks'. 

Oh, we met out first Jewish person, this girl called Moriya, and she was so sweet and smiley and she had beautiful eyes. I know that's a bit random, and I feel like I just objectified Jews, but... seriously. I have never personally met Jews before the conference. It was kinda cool :)

So Sunday simmered down and ended well, and on Monday, I had my medical/fitness test. Lemme just say I killed it well and good. I was a little iffy because I didn't feel at the prime of my health, and I always have that typical worry that OMGI'mprobablyoverweightI'msooofat. I, uhm, don't share that with a lot of people, but when the scales come out, it's always at the back of my mind. But when I hopped on the scales, turns out I've actually lost weight since the last time I checked, and regardless, I was fine. Heck, the fitness dude, who was explaining to me when I have to go through this again when I officially start the job, as long as I maintain my 'slender figure', I'll be fine. I mean, I'm pretty sure it's an exaggeration, but I'll take it. I passed the medical stuff fine. The fitness stuff turned out to be okay too - a variety of different sit ups, and push ups, a stretch thing, and - the best part - cycling. Cycling. I do it every morning. 

Basically, for each task, you earn a point, and there are 24 points up for grabs, but 13 is all you need to pass. I got 22, and he said I was one of the highest (it was either I was one of the highest of all, or just between the girls, or officially the highest of the girls. I'm not entirely sure). So that was one off my checklist.

Then... Thursday. University orientation.

I screwed up pretty darn bad. See, I'm going to the Peninsula campus of Monash, but my sister and my cousin and basically everyone goes to the Clayton campus. Hence, when I was on the Orientation planner thing, my automatic inclination was to click 'Clayton', and hence, I ended up getting the wrong date for the general welcome. Thank God I didn't actually miss anything important, but it did mean that on Thursday, I spent a good two hours alone and cold at the Peninsula campus, pretty darn early in the morning (I had to get up at 5:50am). When I did get the one part I did right, it was only a half hour talk by one lady, and she was funny and fun and I like her and she got me all excited all over again. I mean, I still have screwed up some other stuff, which is just thumping on the back of my mind, but I won't write about that because I've come to the stage where I know that talking and whinging or even thinking about it isn't going to change anything -_-'

 I also kind of made a friend. Between all the tall, beautiful white people, I spotted an ethnic and introduced myself, and yep, she's from good ol' Dandenong, where I live. Perfect, right? ^_^ 

Then I took a bus back to Clayton, where my sister and my cousin were hanging about for the club day I think (where all the uni clubs are basically put on show as they try to recruit you). I made another kind of friend - well, she made friends with me. She basically introduced herself, and eventually figured out that we have a whole lot of mutual friends, and I was just like how the heck did you know it was me? because I have never met her before. But she was really vibrant and cute, so yeah, I can put aside the creepyness of our meeting. I got some henna done, got my face painted (brought out my inner fairy, it did), and... it was another nice day.

And throughout, I've made cookies, I've read books, and life is looking up. Things are getting busy again, and I feel like I can stop singing this

 

 AND. My cat had kittens again :') Five more. I WILL POST PHOTOS, of the last litter and the new ones, I'm just waiting on my new laptop, which I'll get sometime in March...

That is all.

Peace in,

Laila

Something In Between

I don't want my blog to die, but all I want to do is whine. I mean, I expect an explosion in the future - the very near future in fact - so you can all hear me whine then. But until then, to pass the time, I thought I'd post that speech I did last year, for the Youth of the Year thingamabob. Some stuff is censored, for Security Purposes *dun dun dunnnn*.

(Also note, the speech was cut down and edited a lot, partially to fit the timing, and partially to avoid 'religious dogma' *echhem* The guy behind it that it would be safer to tie the topic back to multiculturalism... so I did.) 

Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. My name is [Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore Laila N Mysis], and I’m a student from [Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry some high school]. To be honest, I was a little freaked out when I found out I had to make a speech, and I had no idea what to say. After much pondering – and more freaking out – I realise I do have one interesting thing that has always given me pride to speak about, and that’s this thing on my head – this headscarf.

I started wearing it in grade four. Some adults get a bit starry eyed when they hear this, but the truth is, I made the move out of jealousy. My sister, in grade six at the time, was told by parents to put it on, and when she did, I was to endure much praise showered on her by my own teacher. In a time when it was cool to be the teacher’s pet, I thought that it was high time my sister get kicked out of the spotlight, so a few days after, I announced to my family that I too was going to wear the hijab, and that was that.

This may sound a little cute, but you can see that it has very little meaning. I had no idea why I was wearing it, I just knew it was something that we did, and it never really bothered me. I was asked a few times by others, and I said that we’re just supposed to hide our hair from boys, but you know, that’s not really an answer.

In year 7, my mother insisted I go to Islamic studies classes. I wasn’t really that interested, but I went along anyway, and I’m glad I did. My teacher gave me the best explanation, and that is what I’m about to share with you.

There was a time in Saudi Arabia where society was solely based on tribal law and male egotism. Women were objects, property much like camels, and survival was based on how much men you could attract, and how fertile you were. If you checked both those boxes, the tribal leader could tell all the tough blokes to sleep with you, because theoretically, that would mean you’d provide more tough guys for the tribe. The sons, therefore, wouldn’t be yours to raise, but the tribe’s. If you had a daughter, more often than not, she would be buried alive. Awful, right?

Then Islam was introduced to the world, and skipping some details, the verse for women to cover up was revealed. People assume many things about this, that we put the onus on women, that we try to hide them, but this is not the case. In fact, hiding them is a pretty ridiculous notion, if you imagine a fully covered female strolling down an Aussie beach on a hot summer’s day. Modesty is only a part of it.

The fact is, the hijab meant more than that. It was liberation. Putting it on meant they were no longer burdened by the awful conventions of the time. It meant they had rights. Rights to be protected and respected, educated and married, financially, physically and emotionally provided for. They had the right to own property, and the right to raise our own kids. Baby girls would no longer be buried alive. In the words of Dr Muhammad Ansari: Islam has raised the status of women from below the Earth to so high that Paradise lies at her feet.

This is exactly what the headscarf means to me - that we women no longer belong to man, but to something much higher. We are not hiding from society – we’re shouting it out, loud and proud.

Grand story, if I may say so myself. That being said, in today’s world, the hijab seems to have lost that meaning, having been used and abused, exploited as a tool of oppression, rather than a symbol of freedom. France has even taken the step to ban it, as I’m sure you would have heard. It seems to me that they think that eliminating this ‘thing’ that stands out is the best way to create a peaceful society.

I think they’re wrong, and I think that [Oompa Loompa Land where we live] is a case in point. I’m proud to be a part of this community. I’m proud to be in a class that holds a dozen or so members of different ethnicities and religions. I’m proud to walk through town, to see different coloured faces, differently dressed people, walking side by side as seamlessly as a river flows. I’m proud to see mosques, churches and temples standing strong in complete serenity. I’m proud to know that a Lions’ Club barbeque will provide halal meat, that the [local] Library provides books in multiple languages, that there’s a whole street dedicated to Little India and the Afghan Bazaar, that on Christmas there’s always a special Carols by Candlelight event, and every year, on the 26^th of January, peoples’ whose origins extend to places from so far away can still all gather together at the same park and celebrate the existence of this beautiful country.

I’m proud to know that I don’t really feel excluded here – I never have, even, so long ago, being the only one in my primary school besides my sister wearing a headscarf. That teacher that I wanted to impress, who first encouraged me to wear it? Your average, run of the mill primary school teacher – not even a Muslim. People have approached me with curiosity, but never with hate. I’ve heard of people who have been racially harassed somewhere sometime, but I myself have not experienced this. 

Some say that in order to live in harmony, we have to put aside our differences. This community has shown that that isn’t necessary – we can keep our differences, showcase them even, it’s just about acceptance and understanding. Rather than trying to bury multiculturalism, or eliminate it as the problem, [where we live] celebrates it, embraces it, and respects it.

As Maya Angelou, a prominent figure in the American Civil Rights Movement, once said: “We all should know that diversity makes for a rich tapestry, and we must understand that all the threads of the tapestry are equal in value no matter what their colour.”

Thank you for listening, and I hope you have a wonderful evening.

Hm. I've been thinking of some positive thoughts, and I came up with this:
1. I've pretty much aced all my SACs so far this year.
2. I have the cutest cat in the world.
3. I got to say 'I told you so' to someone today.
4. I'm reading Quintana of Charyn, which is superdy awesome.
5. I ate two chocolatey things today. 

Peace in,
Laila