Preaching in the Pit!

caught on film! A Southern-Baptist sort preacher, preaching at the Pit (where most students gather between classes) in UNC! Debating with students, and pissing many of them off. O man, he pisses me off, even though I've been raised in church.

He thinks that Catholics, and gays are going to hell. Ok, so some Protestants believe that (but not me). He also claims that by Jesus's blood he does not sin anymore (bad theology), and denies the power of original sin (bad theology again). The best part is, when a Christian came to point out his errors he hollered at her and made her cry and told her to stop shedding those "crocodile tears". These are the hell-fire extreme Christians who don't know what they are talking about, yet who insist that they are right, that I dislike.

I mean, I admire your courage and fervour, friend, but not much else.

And you wonder why so many people hate Christians.

I think one good thing about Bartley (my church) is that they don't expect us all to toe the line when it comes to personal beliefs. They allow some deviation, as long as we love God, and they try to draw us back to God when we are far. Essentially the discipline is lax. I don't feel discriminated against although I believe that gays are cool, and that evolution is more likely true than creationism.

Eisen left his church cos of the Church discipline, and because he was forced to believe all sort of Christian man-made theology.

A lot of what we are taught in Churches is actually man-made, the product of the Protestant Reformation. Luther's ideas are preached in the pulpits without attribution to the fact that these were the ideas of select men in Church history. For example, the idea that every man should draw spiritual water from the Bible only, thus bypassing the Magisterium (teaching authority) of the Church, was a man-made doctrine in itself. In essence, however, the Protestant Church has many Magisteria, telling us what to believe and not to believe, abeit in less visible forms than the Roman Catholic Church.

Ok sorry for rambling. Ask me if you want to know more. I'm taking a course on the Protestant Reformation now. I need to know the roots of my faith, much like a child needs to know who his parents are.

Why doesn't anyone in any church tell us about the Reformation? This is important stuff man, knowing how our church came to be.

But I think I'll probably always be a Christian. Just allow me to come to my own conclusions, and don't force me to swallow everything you teach.

And, to be frank, who really cares if I believe in evolution? Like it really affects my "Christian-ness", or my love for God.

I love and believe God if I choose to, not because I believe in the Genesis account of creation.

But then, if I don't believe in the Genesis account, does that mean that I believe the Bible has error?

Actually I believe that the Bible could have error, but that God is perfect.

Afterall, the books of the Bible were compiled by the early Church, by a gang of Church Fathers who (Protestants believe) could have been fallible.

Look, if you don't believe that the Pope is infalliable, then the early Church Fathers could have been falliable too, right? So they may have messed up some of the Bible right?

Why would God protect these Church Fathers from error when compiling His Bible, yet not protect the Popes from error?

... And I can go on and on....

Jon

one thing i learnt about myself from this blog business:

i'm way way lazy.

probably too lazy to write down my thoughts and experiences. o well.

anyway i've been in UNC for a while! a couple of weeks actually. i'm starting to really love this place. it's a university town, the town of chapel hill revolves around UNC.

And i've met some cool people! The Singapore gang, over 10 of us, most of them on the Joint Degree Programme (I WILL CONTINUE TO SPELL THE BRITISH WAY). The Christians from Raleigh Chinese Church and Alpha Omega Fellowship who are ever so kind to me, a newcomer. The gang of friends I've met - Joy Praveesuda from Thailand, the girl who is very nice but does not know what she wants. Clemens from Germany who is obviously infatuated with Joy (but she does not know what she wants!) - he better not be too serious. Ryoko from Japan, who has no house-mate so we always go to her place to cook and eat. Eutine from HK, who is the arch-typical RGS girl, strong minded and independent.

And the gang of American friends! Roy who is so nice to always cook for us and drive us to Wall Mart, and who lives in the Episcopal (Anglican) Church at Franklin. Mike the Middle Eastern expert. Sagar the mad Indian guy. Dan with the place that we mess every weekend, drinking ourselves crazy (and sheesha!) and playing crazy beer games. And Dylan and Carl and everyone else, and Justin the homosexual who wants to teach music in Singapore (I tell him that its unlikely our conservative closed-minded government will ever allow him in, but he says that it's the same in the USA).

I'm straight, very straight, but I love gays, and God probably loves gays too.

but these guys, o man, they're way cool. I like the fact that they're so free, so liberal, so chummy, so intelligent, so intellectually honest, so open-minded, so willing to spend time with each other. I like the way so many of them think with their brains, not their balls, and are thus so un-desperate, like "we don't need girls man, let's party". I like the way they are not too busy to spend time together and have fun. I like the way they respect me although I am Asian (don't expect to find these attitudes elsewhere in the South, they tell me) I love the way they are intelligent enough to have an opinion on everything, yet be open (and intelligent) enough to accept differing opinions - if someone thinks that he has a monopoly on truth, and reality, he's probably a bit bigotted.

Last saturday Sagar announced that I (Jon) may as well be American. He's probably right. But then, maybe not. I gather that most Americans (especially the Southern-Baptist sorts) are not so open, not so liberal, not so intelligent. Stupid, close-minded, conservative people. And add to that racist, and rude, and homophobic. Eeks. I'm just glad I'm mixing with intelligent university people.

Sagar wants to participate in a peaceful march in DC sometime soon, it's about about anti-globalisation, and anti-MNC-ism. I hope I can make it. I do believe in it, that big businesses are screwing up the world, making the poor even poorer and short-changing everyone else but themselves with unfair trade practices. We should return to small businesses, and family enterprises.

I wish I'd have friends like these back home, not too busy to have fun, to just live together and hang and chill and drink and just say "screw you, world, we're gonna live our lives the way we want to. screw the expectations society places on us. we're going to have fun, and live life, and not going to work our asses off". I'd wanna live by myself after I start working, probably with friends, away from parents. As Roy told me, in America if a kid lives with his parents after college, it's an insult to his independence and his parents' upbringing skills. I wish my parents would see things my way. It won't be easy for me, financially, and it'll be like throwing me into the deep end of the pool. But it's a great way to train independence.

I look forward to the day when I can afford my own home, and when my parents would let me move out, and when I'd find like-minded people that I can live with. :)

Later that Saturday noon we took a Greyhound bus to Washington D.C. – it’s a trip that takes almost 5 hours – in the emptiness, I realised the emptiness and loneliness in my heart. An emptiness that I always try to fill up with friends, fun, relationships, busy-ness, everything of the world. At the end of these endeavours, there’s this emptiness and unease and the feeling that I’m utterly far from God, living my own life and so so far from the Divine. And maybe it takes stuff like a long bus ride, for me to realise my emptiness, my evil, my loneliness.

I was wondering who I could call, who I could talk to, who I could sms. Someone who’d understand me and accept me and love me and who I could spend long hours with, and who’d not come with romantic issues (that cannot be resolved) that’d screw us up. And I could not come up with a person, I had to come to God. So I prayed and asked God to fill my hole and thanked Him for exposing the emptiness and dissatisfaction and lack of faith that characterised my life. It’s like a wound, that many many people have, but try to cover up with plasters. It sometimes takes something that God brings along to rip off the plaster and expose the gaping wound. And then we are left with no choice but to beg God for medicine.

I’m falling to my knees, I need you Lord to breathe in me. My prayer is still the same, my heart is calling out Your name.

Sweet anointing fill this place. I am found in your embrace.

Rain Down on me, Rain Down on me, here in your presence I am free. Pour down like rain, come and touch me again, Lord let your presence fall on me.

Day 6! Saturday.

The next day was Saturday August 11. We went to the statue of liberty in the morning, At the ferry terminal to liberty island there was this busker guy who asked us where we were from, and played the Majulah Singapura after we told him we were from Singapore! Utterly impressive. Like, how many anthems does he know man?.

There was this guy who set up a store giving out Christian Tracts, at Times Square Subway station. He also lined the walls with Bible verses. God must be pleased with this man’s devotion, his is really a precious ministry. Only problem is that he was giving out Chick Ministry tracts, blasting Jews and Catholics and saying that they must all do things the evangelical way. Jews, I agree, cos they rejected Jesus, salvation probably is a bit eeky for them (though I would not say that they definitely had no salvation) but again I feel that Catholics are Christians with salvation, and we’d see them in heaven.

My religious views are pretty liberal, but I have to hold on to them to be true to myself, and to be able to say that I am intellectually true to myself, that I have intellectual integrity.

Store giving out tracts - Times Square Subway Station

run in with the NYPD - Day 5, 10 August, Friday

Day 5 10 Aug Friday 4.37pm

Just came back to the hostel. Went back to Time Square to buy tickets for Mama Mia!, and viola the lady was there again, outside Starbucks. Was raining so she was in the shelter. I talked to her, and she told me about how Starbucks had thrown away her stuff and she wanted them to stop bothering her, and how she wanted them to apologise and return her cash for her stuff. And we talked. She gave me salad, an extra one to take back for Eisen, and I bought her coffee to help her thaw from the cold. She told me about her life, the fact that she in fact had a PHD in clinical psychology, and had 5 Master’s Degrees, and that she was from a very rich family. She was Jewish too, and her dad was a holocaust survivor. She used to be “Reformed” Jewish i.e. only going to the synagogue on holy days like the Passover, and going out partying on other days. Now in her old age she became more “Orthodox”, being more religious and stuff. Interestingly despite her religion she believes that anyone from any religion can go to heaven, as long as he does good. It doesn’t really matter that he does not believe in God/Yahweh/Jehovah/Asham (she calls God by this name, don’t really know what it means.), as long as you’re a good person. And her husband, another Jewish man, had already passed away.

And all was fine. She kept on telling me to call 1900-STARBUCKS to get the Starbucks people to give in to her demands. She’s a very principled person, this lady. Very principled, and she believed she was in the right. Then her feet were wet and cold so she went off to buy boots for her feet, and I helped her look after her stuff. She said she’d be back by 3pm.

And it was cold, about 59 F (don't know how much it was, but I didn't carry my windbreaker out with me in the noon, and it was so so bad). So I was this university undergrad, outside Starbucks, with many cardboard boxes all around me. I would have looked like a homeless person, other than the fact that I looked too clean, and that very few Chinese were homeless. But I definitely felt like a homeless person, with the chilly wind blowing right into my face and idiotic me having forgotten to bring my windbreaker along.

Anyway, by 3.30 pm the lady was not back, and the Starbucks manager had informed me at 3.20 that she’d called the cops to settle the issue. I was alone, with the lady’s stuff, I didn’t know where the hell she was, and the NYPD was coming. Bloody balls shrink.

In desperation I prayed. And I guess God does answer. I prayed for her to return and soon she was back, before the NYPD got there. She couldn’t find boots, and was also looking for batteries for my camera to surprise me. Couldn’t find batteries also. (I brought a cam but forgot to insert batteries inside, so no photos of anything at all). She’s a sweet old lady. That was why I hadn't run away when the store manager told me that she'd called the cops. I'd trusted this lady, and I guess my trust paid off.

And I hung around, and the NYPD came. And they interrogated her and she started getting irate and told them her story. And they interrogated me and I told them what I knew, and they asked to see my ID, so I showed them my funky Singapore passport with my funky F1 visa. They said I’m cool, and not a trouble-maker, and told me not to bother with this lady.

I talked to her a bit, in front of the officers, and one officer asked me to leave. Her voice was edgy, like “Sir, I’m going to ask you to be on your way. Have a nice day”. You know, as SINGAPOREANS, you have it ingrained inside you to bloody listen to the police. So I did. The whole time the lady was screaming, telling me that I didn’t need to show my ID and bother with the police, but I guess I did the right thing. The very Singaporean thing, but the right thing to cooperate with the police. The un-Singaporean thing, of course, was to even hang around long enough for the police to chase me away. Freak I see mata already balls shrink lar, even though I hadn’t do anything wrong and outside act damn cool. I’m glad I didn’t run at the first sign of trouble. We both didn’t do anything wrong anyway, what’s there to be scared of.

So I went on my way. Police ask me to get lost, I dare to stay there meh? Shit now I regret not getting her number before I’d left. She’d have made a good friend. Hope she’s alright. I’ll drop by later to see if she’s still there. In fact, I guess I should go there now. And I'll remember my windbreaker this time.

- 4.50pm.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I met Rose Mary at the entrance to Starbucks when I went back there. I’d called 1800-STARBUCKS before I’d left, and the lady told me that Rose Mary’s case was already on record, and under company investigation. When I told her that later, she was really quite happy, that at least the company knew about it. I hope that they actually do something, cos Rose Mary is really very irate about her stuff being thrown away and the fact that she cannot do fund raising outside that branch of Starbucks (if you’re really curious, it’s the branch at the intersection of 41 West and Broadway, New York City).

Anyway the lady’s real name is still unknown. She refuses to tell me. So I’ll just call her Rose Mary. She said that the police handcuffed her, and were going to take her away for refusing to budge from her spot outside Starbucks and for generally making a big din. But later a Police Sergeant, a higher ranking guy, came over and told them to stop it cos she was doing nothing wrong, and to let her go. So she continued to camp outside the shop, picketing. It was really quite cold, and she was suffering all that just for her principles, that she should get justice done.

I asked her, “Don’t you think you can do something more for the poor people, given your intellect and education?” She could earn lots of money, and give it all away! But she said that she could bless and interact with individuals in this way, and I’d to agree. She told me that she’d come across people crying, and she could help them because of her training in clinical psychology. She could talk to them, and make them feel better.

People crying, walking down Broadway? Somehow it’s not hard to believe. Urban life – so many people, so few true friends, so few true relationships. Everyone just wants people to love and who could love him in return, and find a meaning in life. But, people in cities, paradoxically, are the most lonely, despite being surrounded with people. People in NY are marginally friendlier than people in Singapore, and it’s quite normal to greet people on the street and in the mall with a smile and a “how do you do?, but I guess, people don’t really open up to one another. Everyone wants to know someone, and be known, to love and be loved (not only romantic love, of course), but these things are so elusive.

And Rose Mary, she adds a human touch to the city. By offering to talk, and to listen, more than the cursory “how do you do?”. I spent almost 5 hours with her over those two days, talking to her and watching people go by, like she does. We shared our stories, she sharing the fact that she looked like a homeless bum but she actually had a PHD, and her purpose in life. I shared a bit of my life, my broken relationship, and she blessed me with a listening ear, and advice. It was good.

She learnt to be giving, and a bit altruistic, from her now-deceased father. Having survived the holocaust, he felt terribly guilty about being alive while most of his friends perished. And so he did the next best thing – having realised that his very life was a gift, he gave to the people around him, sacrificially. And I guess Rose Mary caught some of that.

We exchanged numbers. I hope to have time to contact her, once I reach UNC. She’s a lovely lady, and she gave me food (which she’d distribute to the homeless). Though it was almost-expired salad and sandwich, wet and grimy from being exposed to the elements, I ate it. Maybe we should appreciate what we have, more.

Hanging with Rose Mary also allowed me to meet some of her friends, who hang on the streets also. A young eleven year old boy from Senegal, selling 10 dollar umbrellas in the rain. He had eleven siblings. I almost cardiac-arrested when I heard that, until I realised that his mother was not a sow, but it was because his dad had four wives. I almost heart-attacked when I heard that one. And this little boy, he already had three girlfriends at the age of eleven. These Senegalese really practice free love, man.

And I also talked to a janitor who’d sweep the street corners. This Black guy from Brooklyn attends Times Square Church (I’d gone there the night before, and had held a two hour conversation with Pastor David on its ste-ps.) He was divorced, and was looking for love. I encouraged him, that it would be possible. But this guy, he was good man. He knew the area so well, all the shops and street corners and where to buy everything.

People, each with their stories. I’m just thankful to God that I had the privilege of knowing each of them. Having been raised in different cultures, many practices were different. Accents were different – it was somehow hard to communicate. But there were so many similarities. Cliché as it sounds, the human experience often runs common across cultures – hopes, fears, dreams, aspirations, emotions. The innocence of youth (young Senegal boy). The wisdom of age (Rose Mary). The search for love (Mr. Janitor). All these could be seen in Singapore, and in New York. In fact, New York ain’t all that different from Singapore, because people everywhere have a shared humanity.

Later that Friday night I caught Mama Mia at Broadway! It was great, so grand, and the music was lovely (partially cos I grew up on ABBA). At the end of the musical the cast performed three songs again – Mama Mia, Dancing Queen and Waterloo – and I could not resist it. Like some people scattered throughout the theatre, I got on my feet to dance. Good thing I sat right at the back, so I didn’t block anyone. Thank God for that, actually.

Mama Mia, here I go again, Mama, how could I resist you?

The cast of Mama Mia! The middle girl with the blonde hair, she's great. Probably somehow related to ABBA or something :)

Back at Bowery’s Whitehouse Hotel after Broadway, I ran into a couple of Korean-American girls who were chatting with Eisen. They told me about American life, and life in California, where they came from. We exchanged numbers so we could contact them when we do travel to the West Coast.

---------------------------------------------

I think i do like backpacking, it's fun in a dangerous way. I have the freedom to do anything I want, and go anywhere I want to go, and talk to anyone I want, without having to care about tour groups and rubbish like that. I can create my own experience, and I love this freedom.

It's dangerous, it's adventurous, but I guess as a young man these things appeal strongly to me.

My room in Bowery! It's basically a cupboard with a bed in it. Five nights here for a six-footer like me!

Night view from outside my Bowery "hotel" (if you can even call it one). I felt very safe all through my N.Y stay, even at night. I heard that it was Giuliani had cleaned up the area a lot. Before him, this area would have been full of strip clubs. Also, I stayed downtown at Manhatten throughout and didn't go uptown to the Bronx at night. That's the negro place, bound to be much more dangerous. I was confident (and some say, naive) enough to stay out past midnight a couple of days.

Glitsy lights at Times Square. I love Times Square it's so big, so grand, so bright, I could spend a couple of full days there just looking.

Street performers at Times Square! Buskers in NY enter subway trains and entertain everyone! Active street life.


Friggin' hot Asian babe at Times Square

The NASDAQ building. We went after the stock markets had closed, if not you'd be seeing stock figures behind us.

M&M's store in Times Square!

The American flag hangs proudly at Grand Central. Actually it hangs proudly from half of the buildings over here. One wonders why we don't even allow Singapore buildings to fly the flag (except around National Day), to show our love for the country.

Virgin Megastore at Union Square! Check out the loo!

Days Three and Four!

10 Aug (Friday) 8am.

I think I think a lot. Mostly useless stuff, but my mind is either churning or just stoning, in silent and standby mode. The problem is that most of the stuff that I churn out happens to be completely useless and random (i.e. unconnected to my other thoughts, and sometimes even disconnected from reality) I guess, from the accumulation of all these random thoughts, desires and opinions about life, one develops a self, a personality. It’s like a montage of sorts, that all these seemingly unconnected and random thoughts combine to form ‘the consciousness of jon kwok’. Similarly, I guess, the entire being of a person is cumulated from all aspects of his life: his thought processes, his relationships, his spirituality, his past experiences, his sexuality, his physical make-up, his emotional make-up, etc. All these combine, in a rojak way, to create the person of me, and the person of you. Maybe that’s why they say that everyone’s unique in his own way, because there is gotta be some part of this rojak that distinguishes you from your neighbour. Say, a deviant sexuality. Or, a unique religious viewpoint. Or, a painful family background. Or, a weird sense of humour. You get what I mean.

Anyway, this musing was so random and out of point. See my point? The problem is that most of the stuff that I churn out happens to be completely useless and random.

Anyway, there is sometimes this stupid narcissistic desire to record everything I observe and think, for my own (and the world’s) reference. Like it even matters! But it’s such a desire that sits me in front of my laptop daily, re-looking my pictures and typing out the previous day’s events, rather than going out and doing more exploring. I want to remember, that’s why I record. And I want to be heard, that’s why I blog.

Everyone wants to be heard, that’s why we all need a friend.

Ok my mind is doing freaking cartwheels. I could go on and on, about the way everyone needs a friend. Today is a good day, where I can just go on and on and talk. Normally I cannot, I need someone to engage me. But today I’m in rambling mode. I’m like, talking to myself only.

Anyway shoosh. I need to get to the point, i.e. more about my life in the USA.

I got to sleep in my room last night, fortunately. Eisen went back first while I went about exploring Time Square and Broadway and he fell asleep, and I was outside, and no amount of knocking and calling his mobile phone could wake that sleeping log. I was irate, to say the least, and was almost resigned to sleeping in the lobby when I heard a low drowsy voice calling my name. Ah, salvation had come.

Come to think of it, sleeping in the lobby would have been an experience. And it would have been what I’ve been looking for on this trip, experiences. But having said that I was pretty glad to have my bed last night.

I think I like traveling. I think I’m adventurous, curious, and I like to see new things and explore new cultures. (actually half of the world has these characteristics, but never mind). The problem is that I’m frigging lazy, too lazy to check out places to explore beforehand, which is actually quite important for backpackers. But never mind, I think I’ll like to try more of this backpacking stuff.

Anyway I almost got locked out last night cos I was out exploring Time Square and Broadway, alone. (I said that already before, right. But never mind la, just say again. What the heck.) Got back to hostel around 0030 hours. Dead beat but I loved it. The freedom, the liberation, to wander and explore and talk to people and see things and buy things and take photos and observe the sights sounds and smells. But I guess I should either do it alone, or find someone who really is a lot like me in terms of interests and pace of movement and stuff, or else I’ll feel stifled and restricted and so will my travel partner – cos we’ll have to pander to each other’s wants and needs… i.e. the travel partner must be just the correct person, a lot like me, or I’ll rather go alone, which isn’t that bad, when you think about it. Why does it sound like marriage?

But I loved NY at night, alone. The sights and sounds, the feeling that I could go anywhere and do anything and explore any part I wanted. Small things like finding the elusive Bank of America ATMs, being dazzled by the bright lights (of Time Square-Broadway) like a small child all over again, helping an elderly lady flag down a cab, checking out hot Chinese babes that’d just walked out of the Mama Mia theatre, to trying to figure my own way back to the hostel via the trusty (ok, not-so-trusty) subway. All these things that make my New York trip uniquely mine, an experience only I had, not some commercialised uniform experience that some smart-ass travel agent somewhere designed for the masses. As far as possible I’ve tried to own my travel experiences, to make it Jon’s NY trip.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Day 4 -- 9 Aug Thursday

Anyway Day 4 started innocuously enough. Late lunch at the Radio City Music Centre near Rockafella, of Macdonald’s. As Eisen cleverly put it, in New York fast food joints there’re normally four big metal containers dispensing a variety of sauces: ketchup, ketchup, ketchup and ketchup. Whatever happened to chili sauce? Damn.

After that we passed by the Museum of Sex. Aha! Interesting, considering we Singaporeans are considered some of the more sexually deprived people by Durex. So, given my character, do you think I entered the museum? Would it have made any difference if I had entered? Would entering it mean that I’m somehow sexually immoral, any more than not entering it mean that I’m a celibate monk from the Eastern Orthodox Church? (ok, like you care whether I entered. So, maybe I entered and saw all there was to see about sex. Maybe I went to the next street and had a bagel, from the Arab-looking street vendor over there.)

Ah, Arab-looking. One thing about New York is that there seems to be someone from everywhere here, and not just visitors, but residents from all over the globe. Other than the basic Whites, Blacks, Hispanics, Orientals (I MISS CHINESE BABES!!!), there’s like, a smattering of people from everywhere. The Jewish men are ubiquitous, in their unmistakable Jewish gowns. I ran into this shopkeeper who hails from Nepal. Bloody from all over the world. And a little boy from Senegal. It’s a more “global” city than Singapore, though Singapore is fast catching up with many bloody immigrants, unfortunately. It’s not that I’m racist, or what, but Singapore is like crowded all over, we need to ship people out of that tiny rock. Actually NY is crowded too, but somehow the subway seems less crowded than the always-full MRT.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

People. Ah, I ran into two interesting individuals on Thursday. First was this old Caucasian lady, standing outside Starbucks, holding a sign saying “Boycott Starbucks. They do illegal and immoral things.” Eisen asked if she could be photographed, but she refused. Refused to give a name, refused to let us photograph her. Said you don’t know what people could do with a name or a photograph.

She did agree, however, to talk to us. She’d been a New Yorker for over 40 years, and was supposedly doing some fund-raising for charity on the sidewalk outside Starbucks when the manager basically took her stuff and junked it, claiming that the sidewalk was Starbucks’. Now the lady conceeded that Starbucks pays rent for half the sidewalk, but she was raising funds on the other side, closer to the road, that was public property. And then she went on and on about how the Black female manager of the Starhub joint was uneducated about NY laws, and how she’ll raise a lawsuit against Starbucks, and how NY was becoming unbearable to live in because the “Blacks were taking over the whole place, even the Chief of Police is black”, and how they were cocky and stupid and brainless. And the Hispanics were useless too, and they and the Blacks were just thinking about sex all the time, wolf-whistling at any person in a skirt, even at an old grandma like her. Ah, but the whites were ok, NY was a better place when the whites were running it. (Of course she’d say that, she was a White!!) And the Orientals like me and Eisen were ok too cos we were hardworking and intelligent. Wow I was so flattered to get her approval of my ethnic background.

Talk about racial stereotypes man. But everyone is entitled to his own opinion.

Hey, I’m hardworking and intelligent cos I’m Oriental. Beat that.

So this lady wanted to move to Carolina, where the Blacks were less cocky. Still as stupid, she said, but less cocky and thus more tolerable. She wanted to move away from NY, where she’d lived in a rented apartment for the longest time. Apparently if you’ve lived in a rented apartment for a long time the government would give you rent protection, and you paid cheap rent man. No wonder she didn’t want to buy property and invest in it: her rent was dirt cheap. (I’m talking so much about rent cos of Rent, the DVD I watched before coming over here about renting apartments in NY) But again I digress.

Towards the end of the conversation Eisen asked if it was illegal to demonstrate like she was demonstrating, waving a placard in front of a business. Her response? “Of course, we have rights in this country”.

Me and Eisen, born and bred Singaporeans, just rolled our eyes.

Protest Outside Starbucks!
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The second guy, I talked to for almost 2 hours outside Times Square Church. His name was David Wolfe, and he was a pastor at a nearby church. Times Square Church is gargantuan, mega, probably City-Harvest-Sized, and “interdenominational”. I love churches that are “interdenominational” and “ecumenical”: why look at differences when there are so many similarities? But I digress.

Me and David, we just talked about Christianity. At first we talked about the Charismatic movement (he believes in signs and wonders, but believes that more importantly we need to focus on Bible teaching and moral living, and having love in our lives. He said that many people nowadays live terrible lives, but just seek to demonstrate, or chase after, the “powers of the Holy Spirit”. Thus as a preacher he doesn’t like to talk about spiritual gifts, but rather preach more on Biblical exposition. Talk about being reactionary.) Then I told him about my two major problems and doubts about the Christian faith: the vast dis-unity of Christianity in today’s world (despite Jesus praying for Church unity in the High Priestly Prayer), and the blatant denial of evolution (evolution, to me, is supported by the vast body of scientific data) by the Bible.

David opines that all the differing denominations have much in common, so there exists a spiritual unity. Regarding cults, he just opined that anyone who does not believe in the Bible, and draw the majority of his religious beliefs from the Bible, is following a Christian cult. He called the Roman Catholics the “biggest cult in the world”.

Of course, I disagree. We should know that even the doctrine of Sola Scriptura, dependency on only scripture for matters of faith, was a man-made doctrine, created by the Reformers. And Catholics. For the longest time in history they were the only Christians on earth. Don’t tell me that our God, who’s alive and who works through history, would allow a cultic church, and only a cultic church, to represent Him on earth. So, since they were a cult, all Christians/Catholics died and went to burn in eternal hell during those years? Would God allow that?

Later David told me about the doctrines of Transubstantiation (the bread and wine turning into the literal blood of Christ during the Holy Eucharist), and about how the original Greek version of the scripture Matthew 16:18 (“and I tell you that you are Peter, and on this Rock I shall build by Church, and the gates of Hades shall not overcome it”) actually refers to Jesus as the rock, thus disproving claims to the Papacy and Papal infallibility. He convinced me somewhat, thus making me doubt some aspects of Catholic belief. But to call them a cult? I’m sure some aspects of Evangelical belief need to be tweaked as well.

And on evolution he was, of course (like most Christian pastors), of the opinion that everything was spontaneously created. He doesn’t know much science, and credit to him, he admitted it, and told me to research more on my own.

Now, this David guy can talk on-and-on. He engaged me (i.e. he talked to me) for around two hours. This man has the gift of preaching.

David agreed to take a picture with me :)

Pastor David!
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The previous day, day three (Wednesday 8 Aug) was marked by a subway failure in the morning. The early morning had seen heavy, torrential rain, and the subway tracks became flooded. Freak. So eisen and me took the M1 bus to the Empire State, and freak it (both the bus and the Empire State) was so so crowded.

The Empire State!

View from the top!

Went to NY Public Library there. There’s a copy of the Gutenberg Bible there! And then we went to the Grand Central, with so many people thronging the grounds daily. Met this student from Hong Kong Uni (Franis Soh Zhan Fai), who was in the USA on a work-and-travel programme. Haha he was getting underpaid - $7 an hour, which seems to be the minimum wage in that state – somewhere near the East Coast.

I love opportunities to speak Cantonese. :)

Funky Friend from Hong Kong

Grand Central!

6-7 Aug 2007 in New York!

Greetings from New York! I’m here at last. It’s summer (and hot), and the jetlag on the first day was murderous, and I had to endure an extremely long day, literally. For me, 6th August had three sunrises (which I caught on the plane), and lasted 36 hours. It’s crazy.

Anyway! Initial adjustments include having to escape being run over by speeding cars because I looked right instead of left when I crossed the roads. The best part is that for roads with traffic going both ways, I’d look right instead of left when I cross the first half. If I survive my indiscretion, I’d get to the middle of the road, and look left instead of right when crossing the second half. Two chances to get killed. Anyway, thank God, I survived, and I’m alive. For now.

Also opened a bank account with Bank of America, which supposedly has a branch in UNC-CH. The atm card they gave me for travelling only lasts 30 days L gotta apply for a new one when I reach UNC. And, more importantly, gotta remember to close the accout when I leave the country, if not it’s “bye bye happiness” (it’s a song from somewhere right?) ok.. bye bye money. Whatever.

Characters in new york: Part of the reason why I chose to backpack anyway was to (hopefully) run into some cool characters. And I did, thought the number of cool characters was somewhat not as high as I’d hope it’ll be. Most people seemed relatively normal, though infinitely more interesting than the majority of Singaporeans, who I (harshly) judge as “humourless”.

Having said that, there’s nothing to boast about American humour. There was comedy stuff, and madtv on the cable tv (in the tv room in my hostel, bowery’s whitehouse hotel of new york), and all the televised american humour succeeded in achieving was to give me constipation. Severe constipation.

American humour can best be described as “coming from another planet”, or, more simply, “retarded”

Anyway, me and eisen ran into this cool guy in East Village (the self-declared “home of bohemia”). He called himself Slappi the Prophet, and approached the both of us asking for money to buy himself a burger. In exchange he’d orientate us around East Village’s Alphabet City J. So we both gave him a dollar.

You see, Slappi the Prophet had some fingers missing from his left hand, and thus he claimed that he could not work. Cheerily he informed us that he was from new jersey, and his wife caught him playing with “another woman’s boobies.” In his sleep she chopped off his fingers.

What a fascinating life story.

Eisen asked Slappi for a prophecy for both of us. He told us with some confidence that we’d both have a great night in East Village, and that God would bless us. (if he believed in God, what was he doing playing with another woman’s boobies? Ok never mind. Maybe God is cool with free love. God is love, anyway. Or, as eisen cynically put it, God’s prophets are always infallible :P)

Slappi also said that he could tell that I’m a boobies person. Boobies and titties, he said we’d love them. And he told us to get some titties that night.

Beat that. One dollar for directions around alphabet city, Slappi’s life history, and a prophecy into my sex life and bedroom fantasies. America’s prophets are amazing. Talk about getting a bang for the buck.

Ok that was wicked. Hope you got it J

Just to reassure you all, we just walked around East Village that night. We did not pick anyone up, and neither did we get any titties.

But the enclave of bohemia, perhaps, exists for its own residents rather than for visitors. There were many apartment blocks, bars, restaurants, clubs, theatres, shops, etc. , but nothing that a couple of visitors could enter, to immerse in the culture, without feeling like fish out of water. We’d have stuck out like sore thumbs, so we just looked around the neighbourhood, and walked home after that. Maybe we’ll go there again, when we’re less jet-lagged.

Above all I’ll hope for chances to talk to some local East Villagers, and New Yorkers in general. To learn about their lives, their loves, their stories. Given my first impressions, I’d love to live in NY for an extended period of time. It’s rustic, bohemian, messy, a bit edgy, and not sanitised like a mental hospital. Singapore has its own culture too, like New York does. But I guess, for now, I’m drawn to the instability, charm, and edginess of American life. Take, for instance, the subway system., which can only be described as confusing. The stations are grimy, unmaintained. Most interestingly there are no safety measures to prevent people from falling onto the tracks and becoming roadkill. Or trainkill. You get the idea. There are no “please stand behind the yellow line/ harap berdiri di belakang barisan kuning” announcements. People stand so close to the train tracks. “Isn’t it dangerous?” I wondered when I first saw the scene. And yes it probably is, the NYPD or whatever department it is probably removes corpses from the subway system on a regular basis. But the city does not “mother”, does not mollycuddle its citizens. And that’s beautiful, cos they trust their people to have to common sense to not fall onto tracks in front of 300 km/h subway trains. I never thought much about SMRT’s safety announcements, but hey does it not say much about what our authorities think about us? It appears as if some people up there think we’re either demented or absolutely unable to take commonsense measures to prevent ourselves from being trainkill. Come to think about it, it’s pretty insulting. I wish the country would trust us.

old, grimy, undermaintained and "dangerous" subway stations.

Perhaps it’s just a preference for the “other”, where one projects one’s own impressions and desires on a separate entity and situation from one’s own, creating a faked artificial construct that doesn’t actually exist. Simply put, “the grass is always greener on the other side”.

Ok so therefore I shall rant less. I’m sure Singapore trashes NY in so many aspects. And it’s stupid to compare two cities that are so vastly different in so many ways. I shall just try to learn and see as much as I can these few days, and I’m already trying as best as I can.

On the second day I got to talk to a couple of Chinese ladies in a Chinatown Buddhist temple in Cantonese, but their life stories were much less gripping. I just realised that New York is teeming with Chinese, most of them from mainland china. Chinatown is like a village in itself, covering many streets and blocks. In comparison, little italy is just one straight street, and looks absolutely pathetic next to chinatown. We Chinese are really taking over the world, one city at a time. And Cantonese. Ah, the beautiful language, I get so happy whenever I get to speak it. To my delight most chinese in NY are cantonese. I’ve always felt that Cantonese was the most underspoken yet most beautiful language in Singapore. So I’m now taking the opportunity to fire away with gusto.

The funky Buddhist temple, supposedly the largest in NY's Chinatown. Of course the funkiest thing is that the people there are from Guangdong and speak Cantonese.


Anyway for Tuesday’s dinner we had some food at a Chinese restaurant. They had Chinese tea, which I happily drank two cups of. Then after we paid up, one of the ladies running the shop brazenly approached me and told me that tipping was part of American culture. I was quite flabbergasted actually, she was so frank and upfront about it. So I tipped her a dollar. The whole idea is, I’m pretty sure it had something to do with the Chinese tea (which she gave us at no extra charge – we only paid for our chicken rice), but like, what the heck you’re so calculative and money-minded nobody would believe you if you said you weren’t chinese. I guess racial stereotypes have some truth in them afterall.

Tuesday was a good day. We saw Brooklyn Bridge, the Brooklyn War Memorial, and all the stuff around Wall Street (i.e. Federal Reserve, NYSE, American Stock Exhange, Ground Zero). It’s frigging cool, I’ll be a multi-millionaire if I snag a job on Wall Street. There was this cool church as well, at the end of the street. Trinity Church – St. Paul’s Chapel, supposedly the oldest in New York. It’s “episcopal”. What the heck is that? Catholic? Anglican? Neither? But it referred to the Communion as the “Holy Eucharist”, so it’s Catholic right? But the Bibles in the church had no Apocrypha, so it’s not Catholic right? Could it be Anglican? Ok I really don’t know. But it’s all the same God, I guess it doesn’t matter. Still, it’d be cool to know. The design and décor for this Church is amazing man, just amazing. It’s so grand, the church could probably rival St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome in terms of aesthetic beauty. It could rival the Vatican church, but probably lose. But at least it does come close. Really, one can see just how much God inspires man to produce amazing works of art and architecture to glorify Him. God (and religion as a whole) really brings out the best in humanity, I guess nobody can dispute that. Ok, ok, just try to ignore all those religious wars for a moment J

Ok, the church is Anglican, I think. I read a brochure on the Anglican faith. I like it, it’s very liberal and accepting of other denominations. Maybe I’ll reflect more on it later.

Alter of Trinity Church

WTC Ground Zero - "Lest We Forget"

Today, Ground Zero is of course a massive construction site.

Brooklyn Bridge. Lucky me caught a chiobu in the foreground. Your guess on whether it was intentional :P

Anyway yep this' day 1-2 of Jon's NY adventure. Will try to include more pics, and to post on day 3 onwards soon.

Take care, everyone who happens to read this. You're probably a friend of mine, so you must take care. (Ok, what's the logic in this? whatever. never mind. just take care.)

jon

Exchange! Travel!

Yep! Exchange and travel. In USA from 5 Aug till the end of the year.

I'm in NY now, and this is NY time (9 plus in the morning). Arrived here 6th Aug morning local time... which was 11 pm singapore time. Considering i boarded the plane 11.50 pm Singapore time, the flight was nearly 24 hours. Sheesh :)

So now it's Wednesday 8 August. My 3rd day here....

Anyway! I'll post again soon, with details of the first 2 days! Till then!