West to Easter: Eastest

Boston
Two conscripted officers, in a cemetery in America, talking about Singaporean politics.
More bizarre, these two guys haven't spoken in years, nor did they talk very much even back home. Do you have friends that, while you were in the same class, or same residence, or same student group that you didn't talk to very much in that group... but then once you've left you find yourself in a situation to connect with them, and you do. And you are reminded of all the possibilities and things said and unsaid, and it's a little sad. So it perhaps is, with this little excursion on the east.

Han Yang was my armskote bro. Fellow support officer with a positive outlook and similar sense of humor in some regards. I think we both knew we would make good friends, if given the time, less stress, and similar vocations. But he went off to engineers and I to signals. And so surreal it is, to have met him in Boston, our first stop being a cemetery. You'll never get a more international experience than that. I guess I romanticize 'hidden' or 'unexpected' or 'unseen' things, a little unhealthily at times, because people think I'm weird or not interested in the mainstream(?). And honestly who would have thought me and Han Yang would have met again in such quirky circumstances and hit it off immediately. ENFJs place so much value in everyone, it can hurt not to be reciprocated, or what is perceived as unrequited companionship. But I won't whine or be bound by such statistics, they are merely guides to understanding.

I spent the whole morning and afternoon with Han Yang, eating great food, exploring the city, and talking at lengths about Wesleyan and Northwestern, Singapore, our lives. It was so heartening to hear Han Yang open up to me like that. He's a kind a generous person and is unafraid of his flaws. We talked about college bubbles, our own bubbles. How crazy awesome Americans (actually just humans with the right mind-set) are. And course, all the unsolicited Singlish spam, that inevitably attracted the attention of another Singaporean who happened to be in the same restaurant. Language and accent is powerful stuff. The cemetery was beautifully calm and unfortunately closed (just the tower don't worry), my luck had to run I suppose.

And then, Ash. I know I've romanticized pretty much everybody in this series of posts, but it's only because I value and admire all of them in their own different ways, and it's a little awkward to express them elsewhere. But also, seriously, Ash was like the climax of the trip (ew), ok highlight of the trip. Ash was the one  person I spent the least time with, yet probably wanted to spend the most time with? Someone I, might as well say it, really aspire to be. High energy, an RA (which I failed to be), a classic rocker, a patriot, neither church nor club but both. When I say I connected with the various people on this trip, they really don't compare to how much I can relate to Ash. We talked about our frustration... with pretty much all the aforementioned things; I guess the difference being Ash is more high energy and has well, a pillar of support so to speak. Most people I know, have stuck to their core, and are living contented. Yet I know my weakness is like Pierre in War and Peace, in a manner of speaking. I cannot settle on something, because I don't like to rule out possibilities, I fetish-ize the road less traveled, I make it a point to leave when I'm comfortable, especially here in college. And as a result, I'm absolutely lost in the wilderness while my friends have moved further.  I hoped to find the fellow loners, but that obviously makes very little sense.

Ok, I transgressed there into things I wanted to talk about that have less to do with Ash. She brought me to yet another Korean place (having eaten Korean at Brown) which was awesome, and we got straight to catching up with as much fervor as the past few days, if not more. I told her the lack of sleep would probably affect me but honestly, meeting and talking with her was enough caffeine. We somehow hit all the right notes and rarely disagreed (which is good and bad), even discovering our somehow aligning quirks like our unabashed love for good ol' millennium rock or even the fact that we were sometimes confused my Melissa. Ash is the kind of person I am on my best days. So what's the secret? Brute force of will? Aspirations engender expectations. Marcus is right in saying that mediocrity is not a sin, yet how can I ever settle on that crowd mentality?

Singaporeans punch above their own weight. Majulah.

~

Well Boston was the furthest East I traveled, so I guess Eastest counts?