a still berth

ISLE’s cancelled. I walked into the session (which could be the last) 40 minutes late today, giving an apologetic smile that stopped working a few months ago. Someone let out an ironic chuckle. The teachers were explaining something about the school management’s immutable stand and from then it didn’t take me much to grasp the context. The people around me looked unbearably retrospective – always a bad sign.

“You missed the emo session at LT2,” exulted Edward. “The teachers were crying and hugging one another, and then there was a one minute of silence thing!”

After the teachers left a few ISLEmates tried getting a discussion going. We could do local service learning, for kids, for old people. Sports carnival. Apartment clean-up. Needs analysis.

*

ISLE hasn’t been very intensive, because of swine flu – but I know that I’ll be worse off because it’s cancelled. I remember a few months back, 7-10 of us sitting in a row trying to impress interviewers in our own unassuming way. I hate group interviews because I’m non-confrontational by nature, so I was rather surprised I made it in. In the interview I said certain stuff which I can’t remember now, but I probably don’t think all of them were entirely truthful. Wouldn’t have gotten in otherwise.

I find that with service learning experiences such as these, I only value them at the end. Never at the start. I could even go on to say that everyone else who purports to love these journeys from the start isn’t being entirely honest with himself – because at the crux of it life-changing events are almost always serendipitous, and I was really looking forward to chancing upon a gem of an experience in Cambodia. You know what I mean?

But in any case now we’re an abortion (which was the aptest analogy I could think of, all the unborn friendships and experiences flushed away for ever, faceless and fetal), so I wouldn’t know either way. I don’t even have room to be disappointed, because I didn’t put in anything into this thing. Now isn’t that the worst feeling?