The Nonexistent Secret Diary of August 24 & 25 2009

[The following are excerpts from the nonexistent and rather secret diary of the first two days of Fall 2009. It documents the first two days of my being a Junior, as well as every class I am registered for.]


Monday, August 24

It's 4:00AM. Nik knocks on the door but I'm already awake. Sahur. I make some toast and make a cheese sandwich. Mm, cheddar. Nik is on facebook. He has the internet. How? Cable kena potong and everybody's wifi is secure. Talipon dia AT&T, so ada 3G. Shit. T-Mobile janji 3G in Pittsburgh hujung tahun ni. Fine. Not that desperate pun. I think. Well, I hope I'm not. I eat slow and before I know it, it's time. Syabas, sayang. Tau pun puasa kat sini lagi lama and you only eat a measly sandwich. And you know you're jetlagged so you'll be awake the whole time you fast. Bagus.

It's 7:26AM and I wake up. I am 34 minutes quicker than my alarm clock. Or the clock is 34 minutes late. Useless piece of sh... - no. It's the jetlag isn't it? Well, yes...maybe. Class, class, class! ♫ ♬ It's been such a long time, I think I should be going. Time doesn't wait for me, it keeps on rollin' ♫ ♬ I jump into the shower. Cibai kia, body wash dah nak habis. Shampoo pulak ada orang tambah air. Bodoh. Bebal. Geram sial. I can feel the water flow down my face differently because I'm frowning. Berus gigi, berus gigi, berus gigi. Ahh, my darling electric berus. Oh, how I love that sensation of your whole jaw vibrating. Bzzt. Bzzt. Heee. Bzzt.

What time is class? 9:30? Don't know, don't care. I'll go early and use the interweb on campus. Hidup = taik, when you don't have the internet. What can a PC do without the net? Main Solitaire.....pish. I get dressed. Hmm, kasut mana gets the honor of Day One? Oh, fuck it, ambik je la yang ni. As I enter the elevator I choose a playlist on the iPod to temankan me for the 15 minutes or so to campus. I choose "macam jatuh cinta macam tu ♥". Dah lama tak dengar.

We were strangers starting out on a journey,
Never dreaming what we'd have to go through,
Now here we are and I'm certainly standing,
At the beginning with you.

'At The Beginning'. How apt. It's been two months since I've walked these streets but somehow I'm guided by pure instinct. How did I stop at the red light? Did I realize I turned the corner or was that done subconsciously? Whatever. In the elevator in CIC a woman clumsily spills some of her coffee and dengan gelabahnya presses the button. "Monday blues", she says with a laugh, "still in weekend mode." I tell her I've been off for two months doing absolutely nowt; "new term blues". She loses that 'kesianla aku' look and nods at me. We part, both exchanging "have a good one"s.

Ah, a PC. I check my e-mail. 22 new, 59 spam. The inbox-spam ratio is still near 1:3. Whoop-dee-doo. I read the news. I watch all five Man Utd goals against Wigan; hebat sial Berbatov, hebat sial Owen. I did the whole net registration thing for my darling talipon's wifi. Wee-fee. Hahahaha. "Do you have wee-fee?" like that guy in the hostel in Boston. Silly man. Hahaha. Scheduleman, scheduleman, scheduleman! Hmm, says here Arabic 3 starts at 10:30. Sejam lagi nak buat bodoh. I do up the whole calendar thing on my phone so for the next 16 weeks I get an alarm before every single class.

10:10AM and I'm the first in class.

Ooh baby do you know what that's worth,
Ooh Heaven is a place on Earth,
They say in heaven that love comes first,
We'll make heaven a place on Earth,
Ooh Heaven is a place on Earth.

A rather pretty girl walks in. She has bangs that don't seem manufactured. Is that even right? Lepak ah, you're only convincing yourself, bukannya ada orang check pun. Well it doesn't look fake, like someone drew them on there with a freaking Sharpie. Nampak...biasa. So biasa that it's pretty. Oh my, she has such beautiful blue eyes. Oh and those long, curled lashes. "Is this Arabic?" she asks. Finally, an American interested in Arabic! Asik North Africans, Arabs and Jews je. This is Arabic 3, she can't be a freshman. She doesn't look that old, though. Alah, beza setahun dua macamla banyak sangat. Kau diam. Apa kau tau? She's only started Arabic a year ago but she's already studied abroad in Morocco, Syria, Lebanon and Turkey. Oh, she's a junior. Transferred from community college from Kansas. Note to self: do not make lame Wizard of Oz/"Toto, I don't think we're in Kansas anymore!" jokes. Her name is Mackenzie. Pleased to meet you. *smile*

Modolu walks in and sits between us. Disturb leaf. Tapi at least ada kawan. No, that's being condescending. He's still a friend regardless where he sat. Takpe, lusa jumpa lagi. Ajak dia naik Mt. Washington, jom? Hmm. I've always wanted to try that ice cream parlor up there. Tapi puasa. Taik ah. Ah, here comes Ustaz Ethan. He had a bad week which culminated in both his dogs dying hours apart, he says. His tone and posture says it all and we're all sympathetic for the three of them. Eric Berryman comes in and speaks like a true Arab. His ع sounds so...authentic. Aku sebut pun tak sepekat tu. And his doesn't sound forced. And it was only two years ago I was helping him out with the al-Fatihah. He comes to shake my hand. What? You're the MSA Vice President? Daym. Everyone does the introductions. I can't speak for shit. I'm last so I plan to say something funny to lighten the mood. "Ana la as-habah fii Pittsburgh wa ana fi'lan wahid"; that's probably very wrong but we is all still speak breaken Arab. Hmm. That might work. My turn comes. For some reason I can't even say "I study in Carnegie Mellon" or even "Economics". Ethan thinks I'm very rusty so he ends the session after two sentences. Everyone else did at least four.

Modolu and I go and see the new Gates Building. Lawa gila babi, tapi no signage so everyone's lost. We go to the bookstore. There's a new mug design. Lawa. Biasanya hodoh, so I buy it. I check my campus mail and apparently that Visual Bookshelf survey thing on facebook which promised to send the novel 'Huge' was telling the truth. I got it free of charge.

Sukarnya 'tuk ku melupakan,
Sinar matamu yang menawan,
Terbayang-bayang tiap masa,
Senyumanmu menggoda,
Kehangatan terasa di jiwa,
'Tika kau lafaz kata cinta,
Nafas terhenti seketika,
Seakan sukar kupercaya,
Oo-wo-oh-oh-oh,
Ku juga mencintai dirimu,
Mengapa sukar kuluahkan,
Bukan sengaja kumenahan,
Bibir membeku, lidah terkelu,
Ku juga mencintai dirimu,
Kau amat sempurna buatku,
Bukan saja aku biarkan,
'Kan kuucap jua padamu.

12:30PM and it's time for Programming with Alice and Java. Professor tua, and she says it'll be an extremely slow class so opt for a higher level kalau bosan. I need the A, thank you very much. And yes, bosan gila but I can deal with it.

1:30PM and I'm free. Do I go home? Why not. Singgah bank jap. Takmau pegang cash banyak sangat. At home, I find an iklan for Comcast college specials cable. Immediate activation. I call and they said five minutes they'd be there. I hear a knock so I open the door. It's just the neighbor leaving. I close the door but he says something angrily. I open it again and he asks me "Why is it every time I get out, you people open the door?" I told him I'm expecting someone but he angrily says "Fine" and walks away. Anak dia bising, ketuk pintu macam orang gila, I don't complain. In fact most times, they knock so hard we think it's our door. Muka pun ketat gila. Boo.

I do the whole sign up thing. They say they can only offer 10 Mbps, six less than I had. Takde hal. Tomorrow I shall have the internet. Waiting. More than five hours to buka, and at least 24 more to TV and the net. I reformat the computer because my Windows is bisu and start installing everything that doesn't require the internet for activation or updates. Nik gets back from doing his SSN. We call the newbies and tell 'em let's meet up for buka. The plan was to meet at 7:45PM. I read, I sleep. I wake up past 8:00PM. We walk to Tandoor and meet the new kids. Kedai ni kasi nasi sikit gila tapi nasib baik kenyang. Aishah mistakenly bought a Chinese-made SciPhone from Ebay. I don't know whether to be amazed at how good they are at copying, or laugh at her for being ripped off. Perhaps silence is best. I am still jetlagged so I go to bed once I get back home.


Tuesday, August 23

It is 4:00AM and I'm up. Berlengas so I take a shower. It's late now so I make some toast and fry an egg. It's too panas, so I open a cup of yogurt. It's frozen pulak, so masuk microwave. I down a glass of lemon pomegranate juice which really tastes like serai. I finish up just in time. I try, but by 7:30AM I can't sleep anymore. I grab my phone and play Tetris. Can I break 60,000? I fail miserably twice. Today is the heaviest of all five days: three 90-minute seminars and one hour-long recitation. I read 'The Hours'. It's just so painful to read. Some genius decided to write about how Virginia Woolf's life affected the story line of her book 'Mrs. Dalloway', which in turn affected a reader's (Mrs. Brown) life. But he won an award and it became a movie starring Meryl Streep, Nicole Kidman and Julianne Moore. No. If I had bought it, I would have chucked it away a long time ago. Tapi ni Aunty Dayah yang bayarkan masa kat RIT. Kena baca sampai habis. It's the least I could do for her. I walk to class; iPod setia di sisi, sambung playlist semalam.

I realize the best part of love,
Is the thinnest slice,
And it don't count for much,
But I'm not letting go,
I believe there's too much to believe in,
So lift your eyes if you feel you can
Reach for a star and I'll show you a plan,
I figured it out,
What I needed was someone to show me,
[jeng jeng jeng jeng jeng]
You know you can't fool me,
I've been lovin' you too long,
It started so easy,
You want to carry on
(Carry on...)
Lost in love and I don't know much,
Was I thinkin' aloud,
Fell out of touch,
But I'm back on my feet
And eager to be what you wanted.

9:00AM and it's Advanced Micro. Megan walks in. I say hi and she waves back. Dia duduk depan. Dulu dia duduk belakang, kat sini. Ada kawan dia kot depan tu. No, dia duduk sorang. Cis. Professor walks in and talks about--what else?--economics. I don't know my shit. I struggle to integrate a simple function. Apparently junior year ni, you'll be applying all the sampah you learned in the past two years. Ah. Heavy weightage on finals. Taik.

10:20AM and I immediately head to the computer cluster for Alice recitation. Dia ajar cemana nak download and install. I am officially the second oldest person in this class. The oldest being some guy who is probably somebody's dad. Everyone else is either a freshman, sophomore or an over-achieving highschooler.

I have a half hour to kill so I lounge about outside the next classroom and check my e-mail.

Lookin' in your eyes,
I see a paradise,
This world that I found,
Is too good to be true,
Standin' here beside you,
Want so much to give you
This love in my heart
That I'm feelin' for you,
Let 'em say we're cray-zeh,
I don't care about that,
Put your hand in my hand,
Baby don't ever look back,
Let the world around us
Just fall apart,
Baby we can make it
If we're heart to heart,
And we can build this thing together,
Stand this storm forever,
Nothin's gonna stop us now,
And if this world runs outta lovers,
We'll still have each other,
Nothin's gonna stop us,
Nothin's gonna stop us now.

12PM and it's time for Industrial Organization. Professor's a Russian dude. He says it's "a.k.a Applied Microeconomics". Nice. Tak cukup ambik advanced, ambik applied pulak. Again, more maximization and calculus. Nak buat muka masam, nak nangis, nak Mama. But I found myself answering half his questions. Which could mean I do know my shit. No, can't be. This girl who was once the Econ Society VP was in the class. So was David. And a few other equally smart ones. Why aren't they saying jack shit? Ah, David said something. But still. Diorang je berkarat ke apa? But I should be safe with classmates macam ni; perhaps they're not into the groove yet. They'll come good. Outside, a sorority girl promotes Greek Life. A girl says to her, "Sorry, but I'm actually a guy." Bahahah! That made my day.

1:30PM and I'm applying for the same goddamned Telefund job. Paling senang masuk, konon. But it is, however, paling senang keluar. I don't need a job, I just need the SSN. This is the fourth time I filled in that wretched form. It is also the fourth supervisor I've met.

By 2:30PM I'm done so I walk around The Cut and look at posters and buy three. E-Cow-Nomics. Peter vs. The Giant Chicken. 50 Chuck Norris Facts. Did you know Chuck Norris could slam shut a revolving door? Or that the only way he shaves is by kicking himself in the face, because only Chuck Norris can cut Chuck Norris? There are second hand books. I buy 'Snow' by Orhan Pamuk. The seller is miffed because he wanted to read it, too. Siapa suruh jual, kalau nak baca? Baghal.

You gave me wings and made me fly,
You touched my hand, I can touch the sky,
I lost my faith you gave it back to me,
You said no star was out of reach,
You stood my me and I stood tall,
I had your love, I had it all,
I'm grateful for each day you gave me,
Maybe I don't know that much,
But I know this much is true,
I was blessed because I was,
Loved by you.
You were my strength when I was weak,
You were my my voice when I couldn't speak,
You were my eyes when I couldn't see,
You saw the best there was in me,
Lifted me up when I couldn't reach,
You gave me faith 'cause you believed,
I'm everything I am,
Because you loved me.

3:00PM and it's everybody's favorite class: Stats. The instructor (remember, he told us not to call him 'professor' because he isn't one) takes down our respective height, gender and continent data and tells us to hand in a three-page report. "About what?" just about everybody asks. "Whatever you can think of." Nice. Just nice, really. Cool girl with funky orange punk hair wants to eat an apple but is shy of the noise she'll make. We all cough every time she takes a bite. She laughs more than she chews. I walk home. PC boleh diupdate and diinstall macam-macam benda.

Don't go breakin' my heart,
I couldn't if I tried,
Honey, if I get restless,
Baby, you're not that kind,
Don't go breakin' my heart,
You take the weight off of me,
Honey when you knock on my door,
Oh, I gave you my key,
Woo-hoo, nobody knows it,
When I was down,
I was your clown,
Woo-hoo, nobody knows it,
Right from the start,
I gave you my heart,
Whoa-oh, I gave you my heart,
So don't go breakin' my heart,
I won't go breakin your heart,
Don't go breakin' my,
Don't go breakin' my,
Don't go breakin' my heart.

4:45PM and I'm home. The TV has a picture. But Nik says there's no internet. And we only got 6 Mbps. And it's registered under MOHANNA SHAZWON BINAZIZAN. Seriously, what the fuck is the point of filling out forms in block letters if they're gonna fuck it up by spelling it over the phone to another agent in their call center? We finally get it running. I get my first IM, "ha aku online dulu!" from Nik 36 minutes after he sent it. I had to download YM dulu, kan. I do the whole reverse process of backup. My IM chat archives, the 9 GB of songs, the whole toilet MP3 player thing. Most importantly my iTunes play count and playlists. I don't know why, but they mean the world to me. Took me months to make those playlists and edit every MP3's ID3 tag so that the artiste's name and album and song title are all spelled correctly. All 2,424 of 'em.

I lost track of time and it's now 7:45PM. We rush to the ICP for buka. Tak semeriah last year but anything free is just as good. No. That's condescending. People aren't giving as much as they used to. Maybe economy teruk? Or harga naik? I ask if the hot drink is coffee or tea. It's just too black and thick for tea, yet too brown for coffee. An old guy opens the lid, points to the thick black liquid inside and says it's obviously tea while he rolls his eyes. Obviously. I take a sip. Tea. The kind that gives you sembelit. We walk back home. I study Arabic a little as I do the laundry. Belum tiga hari dah kena basuh dua load. It rained in Newark and Philly when we were flying in. Cemana air hujan boleh masuk suitcase? Bengap. I try to stay up to fight the jetlag. By 1:00AM I give up.

Besok kelas Arab, heeee~

Hikayat Orang Miskin

Don't ask why. Don't ask how. Shit just happens.

All I can say is that one day I realize my account has less than $50 and I have more than a month before my next allowance is deposited or my flight back home, whichever comes first. And in this one month, things only got worse: we lost a 20 lb sack of rice (God knows how that could have happened), standing orders conveniently withdrew money earlier than expected (before I could even cancel), for the first time ever we forgot to put the chicken and fish in the freezer, lots of people came to visit. So it was that I spent my last Sophomore month being a bum doing close to nothing productive. At the end of my exams, I went to Texas--San Antonio and Austin--and had a wonderful time. I spent $450 for everything--airfare, lodging, food, souvenirs. That wasn't shooting myself in the foot. I still had enough for another trip to Rochester to see my cousin graduate, which I did.

Towards the end of May I was left with less than $80 in my bank and exactly $120 in my wallet. Hardly a sad amount, but nowhere near comfortable. By early June, the screwovers had left me with $5.97 in my bank--it is now late June and the amount is unchanged. But I held on tight to the $120. I only used it for laundry and for buying necessities like onion and garlic and rice and meat. Seemed fine. But then we had concerts. A friend forwarded the money for Coldplay. Zee Avi's was free. And Gokun paid for my ticket to see No Doubt since it was only $10. But I can't go on living off the charity of others. So I emptied my tabungs--two years' worth of coins--and put them in that coin machine thing where they give you notes instead. I would have been glad if I had got even $10--if spent wisely, that could be three or four meals. Instead, I got $17 and change! ...which was actually bad since it made me cocky. I brought Gokun and his friends to Primanti Bros. and a diner. I can't let them visit Pittsburgh and eat nasi kosong, can I? Besides, you've never been to Pittsburgh if you haven't eaten one of their sandwiches. So that's where two years of savings went: a Primanti Bros. cajun chicken sandwich and a Dr. Pepper, a meatloaf sandwich and decaf.

I continued the next few days (if not weeks) living off whatever rice we had. How bad were times? Well, we rationed onion--that bad. We ran out of sugar with two weeks to go, but the girls were kind enough to give us a pack. We ate bread so cautiously that it expired before we even finished one loaf. But we were, however, helped out by some smart spending in the past. We still had 30 eggs, two blocks of butter, loads of lasagna and spaghetti, three jars of pasta sauce, three cans of mushroom soup, a can of sardines, one frozen pizza, and a lot of cheese. So we stuck to the one-meal-a-day regime and had rice for two or three days straight, then treat ourselves to spaghetti or sardine/egg sandwiches. We were very liberal with egg. Breakfast was improvised. We had coffee and Earl Grey tea in abundance (and gula wakaf). We still had two boxes of cereal, and a tin of Quaker Oatmeal. But no milk. But we had a tub of 'Death By Chocolate' ice cream, which goes well with oatmeal. I remember some old Pop Tarts.

Nik had a little more cash than me, so he'd buy chicken every once in a while. But even as sempit as we were, we fucked that up too. One morning I realized four chicken thighs were on the kitchen counter. He bought six; we ate two the night before. The remainder has been left overnight and is now starting to smell and dah mula berlendir. I picked up the brown bag to throw away. Beneath it was the packet of trout I left out to thaw before Nik returned with the chicken. Great. Fish and chicken that should last us four or five days--gone, just like that. And then the next time he went to buy chicken, his card had reached its limit.

I spent my days and nights indoors. It was pointless going out when you haven't a penny to spend unnecessarily. I would have liked to go atop Mt. Washington or see Pittsburgh's zoo, to take pictures or draw, but I'm sure if they weren't free, I'd spend enough time there to get hungry or thirsty... So I just watched movies. Since my finals ended on May 13th, I've seen 78 movies. Some on the TV, three in the cinema (San Antonio's RiverCenter Mall AMC charges only $4 per show) and the rest I downloaded. I had a blast seeing the likes of Abba The Movie, A Clockwork Orange, 2001: A Space Odyssey, Catch-22, Music and Lyrics, Marley & Me, all four Indiana Jones movies as well as all three NeverEnding Stories--all in 720p HD and 5.1 surround. I averaged three a day, sometimes went up to six. I also caught up on some reading; Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, The Pearl, The Abolition of Man and Deception Point. My butt and eyes hurt from the hours I spent in front of my monitor. Lying down to read didn't quite help. As far as the Xbox is concerned, I played FIFA09's Be A Pro. I broke into the Arsenal first team using a player I created but got frustrated quickly. I was a left winger but I scored too much so they keep putting me up front as the right striker so I lose points for running down the left flank and crossing. Add to the fact that I'm left-footed. And that Adebayor is rubbish in the game; he can't do squat unless I give him a sitter. And RVP is awesome but is somehow benched in preference to Ade. I stopped playing. Fucking Arsenal.

T-minus one week to our flight back. Still no sign of the money despite the "mid-June deposit" rumors. We have enough rice left, but no onion. Our garlic has gone bad. We've baked the last pizza. We still had two cans of soup, though. For almost a week now we'd been drinking nothing else but iced Earl Grey tea. Or plain water. I tried to buy milk once, but the shop's stock was due to expire in three days. Hell, no! I won't let it go to waste. Takde susu pun biar la. Bertahan! But then... we couldn't ignore it no more. We had five more days but we only had rice to eat. I had only $10 in my wallet. We decided to sell off all the old books we had in this apartment. Easily there were forty. I stacked half on a dolly, Nik packed the remainder in a suitcase, and we dragged 'em both across Oakland to the other side of Pitt. Schoolkids on the sidewalk would say "damn, I ain't goin' to college!" or something to that effect. But after a hefty pull, we entered the bookstore and the guy rejected probably ⅔ of whatever we gave him. It hurt every time he put one on the reject pile. But still we were rich! Not filthy rich to the point we'd rip our Greyhound tickets and and buy plane tickets to Newark for the flight home. But any decent amount of money is a lot when given to someone with only $10 in his pocket. On the way back, CMU had this survey where they'd give free bottles of water. So we went and each got candy and a drink. The questionnaire asked us to rate happiness before and after. We each put 7 out of 7 for both.

I wasn't going to be cocky with this money. A lot of shit can happen. We'll be on a 12-hour journey by bus to Newark. Then a 5-hour wait at Newark Liberty. Then a 24-hour flight back to Kuala Lumpur. Or Sepang. Whatever. Anyway, what if in the fine print somewhere it says we're only allowed 10 oz of baggage. I know MAS isn't one to screw people (especially students) over luggage, but you never know. So we were extremely frugal and bought one (1) onion, a gallon of milk and 3 lbs of ground beef. With all that and whatever I had at home, I made a 9-layer lasagna with a bit of beef left over for today's pie. Tonight I leave for Newark.

Three days ago, my PC stopped giving out any sound, and I can't be bothered to reinstall Windows before going back. So I stopped watching movies and went on to start drawing. Just because. Once, around 4:00AM, I asked Nik if he had crayons. He just laughed pretty hard. But I stopped the urge to be 'creative' and used pencil instead and now I have portraits of myself and Shahmi on my bedroom wall.

*****

This is my story of the time I was so hard pressed I used up all my safeties. Just a few hours ago, I found a birthday card from last two years and there was a dollar bill inside which I didn't bother to take back then. I surprised myself at how swiftly that single found its way into my wallet. I now have $11 in there. The money from the books were given in the form a debit card. Money changes the way you act, the way you live, your mentality--whether it's a case of too little or too much is immaterial. I'm sure everyone has their stories of digging around couches for loose change to buy a sandwich. Savor these moments. It makes you appreciate what you have when you have something to be had.

Carnegie Mellon University: Judging The Book By Its Cover

I will not dwell on what the hell is a Carnegie, a Mellon (not melon with one L like the fruit), or a university. You are all smart enough to use Wikipedia. And to the "my school is older and more steeped in tradition than yours" brigade, I will not say much on age because while we may not be as old as some of you, we are a damn sight better than most of you. I also won't talk about how awesome or shit we are in terms of graduate debts or employability or how much better or shit our Philosophy 101 is compared to yours. Let's talk only about what our eyes can see.

Many people look at our main campus here in Pittsburgh and comment on how tiny we are. Yes. If you look at the campus on Google Maps, you can see that if you divide it into a 3 x 3 grid, the athletics track is just enough to fill one of the squares. So we are as big as nine 400 m tracks. We are bordered by Forbes Ave., Frew St., Neville St./Boundary St. (how ironic), and Margaret Morrison St. on the north, south, west and east respectively. Boundary St. to Margaret Morrison St. is a little less than 800 m or half a mile or three traffic lights. That is a good thing, the smallness of this place. We only have slightly over 1,000 per class. I've high-fived everyone else in the Class of 2011; everyone kind of knows everyone. And--most importantly--you can wake up at 9:15 AM, get dressed, slip and fall on the icy sidewalks, chat up the sweet girl who helps to pick up your bag, buy a cup of coffee, and still make it on time for your 9:30.

I arrived here in August 2007 amidst so much talk of how bad the food is and how only years before it was ranked among the five worst in terms of on-campus dining. The landscaping was also horrible. Added to the fact that this is a school notorious for its workload and workaholics, it didn't seem like fun. Of course much of that has been fixed--food is bearable, but the landscaping is ambiguous.

The biggest shock of all for the CMU populace was the Walk To The Sky statue--probably still is. For starters, it's a 30-foot metal pole sticking out of the ground at an angle, very much like a guy lying on his back having an erection (there has been talk of a 30-foot condom). Now there are people (fake, obviously) walking upwards on this pole, hence, 'walk to the sky'. And at the pole's foot, there are three people (again, fake) just standing there, looking up at the men and women who are obviously thinking "the sky is the limit". I actually like it. But the fact that it's placed right at the front of CMU--in between the university center and the drama school--is just so...wrong. Sure, I like the fact that we don't have tacky Greek/Roman-like arches or signboards or even, God forbid, a guardhouse entrance with honest-to-goodness pak guards and mak guards. But a 30-foot erection that sways when the wind blows..? But it's nice, really. Not just because it is what it is; but also because it harbors idiots who will stand at the base, staring up at the skywalkers--or even idiots who think the three statues at the foot are real people who stand still for some artsy bullshit. It's true.

The next obvious tourist trap is The Fence. We have a fence right smack in the center of campus which we paint almost every night. Yes, it is a different color almost every day. The previous fence was wooden and so collapsed under its own weight. It still holds the Guinness World Record for "Most Painted Object". Many CMU departments keep pieces or flakes of paint from the old fence as memorabilia, just like many people do the Berlin Wall. Anyway, the new fence is steel and concrete, and fence painting is as spirited as ever as we try to beat the record of the old fence. Anyone, or any organization or club or dorm can paint the fence. People advertise their meetings, their national days, their names, their dorms, they do it just because. Painting can only be done after midnight until before sunrise; paintbrushes only, spray painting is considered vandalism; and at least two people must guard the fence to avoid others from 'taking' it. Some frats or clubs build tents or sheds around the fence so they can have 24/7 watchdogs. You can, however, strike a deal with the people holding the fence and borrow it for a day.

But this campus actually has some surprises up it's sleeve. As Phua, Dian, NJ and all 13 visitors from Wisconsin will attest, the carvings on the front of the College of Fine Arts building has quite an interesting history behind it (pun intended). The architect was paid less than the original deal so he passive-aggressively replied by making one subtle change that haunts us to this day. On the left-most carving, above all the pillars are heads with different expressions. But one of them aren't heads. No, it's a pair of buttocks (now you get the pun), sticking out, taunting us "fuck you for not paying me enough". Inside the CFA, the ceiling is something from one of those buildings from The Vatican. No, not The Creation of Adam from the Sistine Chapel. But it's awfully pretty nonetheless.

Between CFA and Tepper, you'll see a partially hidden garden. As you go up the not-so-maze-not-so-garden-trail pathway, you'll reach a white abstract-shaped platform with numbers on it scattered in random order. This is our Number Garden. Looking south, there'll be this artsy thing from God knows who which I find to be rather smart. It's a quote of someone quoting someone else by the name of Eddington on his thoughts of the direction of time and the law of entropy. Eddington surmises that if we choose to walk backwards, it would be as if time went backwards too. The quote is written backwards; first word last/last word first. And that is pretty cool.

For a small area, we have barely enough space for our buildings. The new Gates School of Computer Science is near completion and hopefully it'll be as pretty on the inside as it is on the outside; and also as high-tech as they say it to be. And hopefully once the tractors and trucks have gone, they'd erect mini-parks or gardens around it just to appease our eyes. But if you stroll around campus and look carefully--really carefully--you would find all sorts of wonderful things: mini-gardens for a nap or a cigarette break, tucked neatly in the corners of buildings; sculptures and statues hidden by years of vegetation or simply just not strategically located; a stairway to a basement walkway that's hidden by an odd bush; a plastic (I think) 'snowman'; concrete mushrooms; and many more. We obviously can't compete with seaside campuses or those with lakes and fields and forests--believe it or not, we don't even have a fountain. But at least whatever our problems are it's because we lack them, not because we overdid them. All I can say is that for what we are, we're pretty nice.

Religion, Happiness or Survival: Why I Chose To Go Katok

Two years ago I would have balked at you if you told me who I was today. But two years ago, things were very different: I wasn't living in Pittsburgh. I arrived here with the fresh hopes and optimism most of us had. In my mind I knew I'd stick to my beliefs with a passion; that I wouldn't easily be swayed by the weakness of others. I already had a pretty good track record in that for some reason (which to this day I myself can't understand), I've never puffed a cigarette despite most of my friends succumbing to the culture; I also don't quite fall for the supposed syok when you smoke after a meal. I was certain that the integrity in me would remain.

So it was that I survived my first semester in Carnegie Mellon sticking to the laws I was so often reminded of back in the Halal haven of Malaysia. It was quite an experience. I now know for sure that tuna tacos taste like shit; that I would rather fast than eat another vegetarian meal; that the vegan eatery here--Evgefstos--serves a million different kinds of shit that all taste the same; that too much greens will end up as seaweed-like complements to your feces; that fish isn't really fresh when you're so far away from a decent seashore; that meat, when you had the chance to eat it, was tasty, tasty murder. I did get chicken and beef and sometimes mutton once in a while. Salem's Halal Meats is just a few blocks away and I had the common kitchen in Boss House. Also, every Friday the Islamic Center would sell set meals after prayers. But I was paying USD 5,000 a year on my meal plan, which gave me 22 meals plus $70 every two weeks and didn't rollover. And Carnegie Mellon food is really as bad as people say. And not Halal. Slowly, the stoicism in me was hacked away.

But then many who had previously stuck to the strict Halal rule had somehow found out it was okay to cut themselves some slack. Some cite the fact that Jews and Christians are Abrahamic religions (agama samawi) or 'people of the book' since their respective holy books are recognized by Islam. Some say Kosher is Halal and that "diorang sebut nama tuhan sebelum sembelih" without quite knowing what they're saying. Some cite the darurat rule; that Halal meat isn't found where they live, or is too costly or leceh to obtain. Some couldn't care less. And almost all would say "Islam tak bebankan umat". My beef (pun intended) with all these arguments--or to put it in other terms, why I don't buy them--is that:

1. I fail to see how we could still consider Jews and Christians as people of the book. We Muslims believe their respective holy books have been altered, unlike ours. We also believe that God gave Jesus the Injil but the Christian bible(s) of today is (are) clearly written by man, with sections edited, unallowed or omitted by councils throughout the years. In fact, I'm under the impression that the Bible is more of Jesus' sunnah since it's a compilation of books about his life and his quotes, written by his disciples, unlike the Qur'an which we take as a narrative by God.
   
2. Search Kashrut and Kosher--the Jewish term for their law and their Halal equivalent--and compare with Halal. People easily assume that since Kashrut rules for slaughtering animals are stricter than Halal rules, anything Kosher is Halal. Islam requires that the name of God be spoken before the slaughter of every animal, whereas Kashrut laws require only an umbrella blessing for a whole session, not every single animal: there in itself is a huge hole blown in many an argument for Kosher-Halal similarities.
3. In terms of darurat, I could understand it if I was in a small town with absolutely no Halal meat. For one, I have Salem's, and any qualms I have is that I'm sick and tired of their only menu: briyani, curry and salad. But it was, I thought at first, better than nothing, and something to hold on to.

Salem's briyani was awesome the first time I ate it. I even thought "Hot damn! Four years of this? I can live with that". Even kids from Penn State drive three hours to get here just for nasi Salem. I, however, changed my mind after my third platter (in my second week here). But then my friends in other cities and towns with no source of Halal meat whatsoever cited the Qur'an and some sunnah they googled that's conveniently in their favor and voila! due to darurat, they're eating breakfast, lunch and dinner at Taco Bell, Q'doba and Wendy's. I have Salem's so is being in Pittsburgh considered darurat? Questionable. I mean, you can't expect people to live off rich curries every day, can you? And if I was indeed under darurat, wouldn't that be like pilih kasih in the sense that the families here have to eat Halal since they can but I'm allowed some lee-way since I'm living alone on campus? And it was odd that in a place where no Halal butcher was present, darurat could stand. But in Pittsburgh where it's quite rare, darurat doesn't stand. Does this also mean that if I open up a Halal hot dog stand in one of those darurat towns, they'd all have to stop going katok and eat my hot dog only? Let's say katok is okay; what if I had a beef jerky in my pocket in Pittsburgh and I flew back to Malaysia? If location can render something okay or not okay, where are the limits and how do we set them?

I hate doubt so I decided no.

Then came the fateful winter break of 2008 in which I was stood up in New York City by my one and only mother. Yes, kecewa lagi, Ma. Anyway, I stayed for two weeks with a friend whose family ran the Islamic school I attended as a child. And the first day already she ordered pizza and wings from Domino's. Needless to say, it was very awkward for me to question her dietary justifications since, after all, it was her mother who has been telling me what is (religiously) right and wrong for so many years. But she's always been one of those anak mithalis whom everyone adores so I thought "what the fuck, taram je la, I'm on holiday anyway". I also thought of that rule where you don't turn down what your host offers you or something to that effect. Either way, they looked delicious.....and tasted even better.

She later on told me she abides by the 'people of the book' thing. I took that at face value, and did not argue. Later on when I called my mother, she told me to just eat and be happy and stop complaining about susah nak makan. She even cited a sunnah--something I'd argue with some of the above points if it was a peer on the other end of the line. Tapi tak baik derhaka. Easy way out? Guess so.

When I returned to Pittsburgh, I arrived on campus at 1:00 AM when only one place was still open: Si Señor. Extremely hungry, I tried their fabled chicken wings and until this day I am a fan. From that very first half-dozen chicken wing goreng tepung, life here has been somewhat lebih ceria.

I had a roommate who was a dirty, rude, unhygienic, selfish prick who farted at night because he's vegetarian and eats rice and beans every day. He also told everyone I was a charity case because I was under scholarship, unlike him who's a rich brat whose father pays the full USD 50,000 every year. My floor was mainly people who enjoyed playing Dungeons & Dragons and took a passionate interest in all the anime bullshit, on top of anything remotely Japanese like ninjas and God knows whatever they call that martial art one of them practiced. Of the 24 who were on my floor, at least seven of them are the founding members of CMUs Atheists, Humanists and Agnostics. Every now and then in the lounge you'd hear them discuss or argue or dictate whether one is agnostic or an atheist or whether any of the current proof of Creation is actually legitimate. During our first night in that dorm, one girl came up to a few of us all sweaty, and dug a finger into her cleavage. She showed us the daki that had collected under her fingernail and commented on how she finds 'boob cheese' very interesting. Once, a girl told us of how she was very religious but just not on the sex part because she can't live without it. She went on to say that she's non-denominal--which was, in her description to me: "We believe in evolution and the Bible. So monkeys did evolve, and the first that was 100% human was Adam. It all makes sense that way. Oh, and we don't get baptized". Another person taught us of how evolution means we don't need to procreate anymore because "human vaginas are in front and not at the back, like on animals". So sex is just for pleasure and fun.

Some people I know elsewhere have said my failure of integrating with those closest to me is all down to my not opening up to them. It's easy for you idiots to say so when you're in a fucking kampung Melayu, rooming with people you've known and grown to love, sharing a car, splitting the cost, taking classes together, going places in your group. I don't have that advantage. And for the record, I hate the kampung Melayus in the huge universities. If there's one thing about Pittsburgh I'd never give up, that would be the small Malay society here: no drama, no ridiculous gossip. I loathed this city as a freshman. When things got even worse for me, lagi la benci. But I should think I've learnt what I like and don't like, and I now appreciate what I have here.

Also, Spring 2008 wasn't the best time in my life. January was a bitch. February worse. By March I could only sleep a few hours a night. April and May seemed to have a brighter outlook but then I just had to go to the stupid and pointless Midwest Games. Coupled with the inexplicably horrible grades of both semesters, I would rate the Happiness of my freshman year as 5 on a scale of 1-10. Every year has its ups and downs, but this was the first time I could say I was really, really agitated and out of my skin. Sometimes I'd check out ticket prices just to see if I could pack up my bags and go home ASAP.

My decision to ditch the strictness of old and actually eat--that has set the tone for my time here ever since. I'm not saying, "katoklah anda and you will smile". I apologize to my friends who think me a turncoat for being so headstrong on eating Halal back then. I can only assume that my defection to the Dark Side has left you somewhat disappointed in me. I am not writing this to make excuses for myself. I know it is wrong. And I know I'm probably weak for not sticking to my guns. I'm just saying that in my case, it made my time here a little more bearable.

Initially, whenever I eat anything katok I get scared for a bit. I'd feel a pang of guilt whenever I eat not-exactly-Halal meat (I can't say non-Halal now, can I? There still is a bit of denial in me). My fear sprang from the fact that it all tastes just the same--you won't die if it isn't slaughtered the correct way; saying God's name won't magically/miraculously alter the meat; blood drained or not, sama je. I will still stay away from alcohol, pork, benda dua alam or anything else that we wouldn't eat back in Malaysia. The fear and guilt in me is proof I know that although it's the same damn thing to our taste buds, someone up there knows it's not. It used to bother me so, this guilt. But now that I have accepted my situation, I'm just happy that at least I'm aware of what's right and what's wrong. Yes, I may be in the wrong and you can say that I can live without it and you can cite the others here who are just fine. But this is one area I'm willing to be selfish and sacrifice piety for happiness.

For those of you who stick to the right rules and all that, I only have one word for you: respect. I hope none of you are offended by my personal choices. And I hope you never have to see me eating non-Halal meat (fine) or its by-products if you deem that insensitive.

Live. And let live.

My Apologies To My City

I know for sure there was a time when I hated this place. The weather. The public transportation. The not-too-big, not-too-small-ness of it (planes from our airport fly to Chicago via Detroit, to Detroit via Chicago, once even to New York via Detroit). It's too hilly (pedestrian unfriendly), lacks parking (too car unfriendly), and has a subway system that doesn't quite serve the areas you would think it should.

It did have some awesome sights though. I remember my first view of Pittsburgh. Coming from the airport, as you exit Fort Pitt tunnel, the city's skyline takes up your whole view. Downtown; the shiny PPG Place; Heinz Field in all its glory, looking like an alien spaceship; PNC Park; Carnegie Science Center. The rivers add a nice touch to it, too. I rarely say this about anything, but the view was breathtaking, as I sat in the 28X, trudging slowly beside the Monongahela. Later on in my first week I was introduced to the quaint neighborhood of Squirrel Hill, with all its shops and al fresco cafés.

But I guess that was it. The cold soon came and I became a hermit staying indoors. I blame the buses (canceled trips), I blame the cold, I blame me being hung up, I blame the lack of shops nearby CMU, I blame the difficulties of fitting in, I blame CMU, I blame a lot more; I blame a lot.

But maybe it's the friends I made. Maybe it's the Steelers. Heck, maybe even the Pirates! I'm sure it wasn't Mt. Washington: I've yet to get a nice view up there. I doubt it's CMU; I'll only love this place the very day I have to leave for good. Maybe it's the unveiling of a million different things to eat by choosing to go katok? Maybe it's the fact that some people actually think this place is awesome (albeit compared to their 'rural' campus towns). Maybe it's the independence of living in my own place. The myriad of bridges, possibly?

Someone joked that a friend of his said it was "a bore" over here--"nothing much, really". And that hurt. It struck home. But I am not moved by the fact that someone could say something like that and know that I can't say much in defense. Or that someone thinks little of The 'Burgh. What surprises me is that I am affected by those mere words. And that can only mean that I actually love my city. I love Pittsburgh.

This is long due, Steel City: I am sorry.