Went for CIP rep course ytd. It kind of made me reminise about past experiences I have about doing CIP, well, those kind of experiences which u wont easily forget. Sometimes, bad experiences are much less difficult to forget than easy ones, and they are the ones which bring about the greatest change in ur perceptions.
"Two years ago, while performing the annual Jobweek event for the Scout HQ, I chanced upon an encounter that changed my mind about community service. Jobweek is an event which all scouts dread, for we have to don our stifling, non-sweat-proof scout uniform and patronise each house, ringing their doorbells and asking for jobs to perform. It wasn't no mean feat, I'm telling you. This colossal event brings a thousand or so scouts under the heels of the HQ for the entire duration of a week.
As a scout since primary school, that was my 7th year going about this tiresome business. However, each time I completed the jobs, collected the money and handed them to our seniors who will in turn deal the hard cash to the HQ, I could feel an overwhelming sense of accomplishment, for I thought that I was doing something to pay back to society the gifts that they have laden us with.
So the days ensued where we were chased by dogs, honked on by cars, shooed by housewives, ignored by the general public except for the few kindred souls who would spare us the opportunity to do jobs for them. As I steadily felt my money bag sticking out at odd angles from the many notes I had inside, I felt pride and arrogance, for I am doing my part for the community. We were told that some of the money we earned was going to 'charitable organisations' in the community.
I pressed about ten dozen doorbells pleading for jobs before chancing upon a door which did not remain shut to ward off my unwelcome intrusion.
The splintered door creaked open slowly, a knobbly finger pulling the dinghy doorknob. Upon seeing the entity who opened the door, I hesitated, for at that moment of time my judgement was clouded by a period of momentary guilt.
An old man wearing a singlet which did nothing to hide the ribs that stuck out from the thin, flaky skin greeted me. He had one hand on the door. Only one other limb supported his wispy body structure.
He had only a left arm and a right leg.
Apprehensively, for I could not think of what else to say, I robotically repeated to him the lines that have longed been programmed into my dulled mind, exasperated from saying the same thing to the many units before his.
'Good afternoon sir, I am Mark and am a scout from the Scout Group. Today is a day in our annual Jobweek where scouts will perform jobs to earn money to contribute to our scouting and charity efforts. So do you have a job for me sir?'
At that point of time I couldn't help but marvel at how I said that without hinting at a touch of irony. The man before me was a man in need or service from the community.
Silently, the poor man gesticulated that I should give him my card and let him sign it. With it he gave me a crisp 2 dollar note that he found from the depths of his pockets. Not knowing what else to do, I accepted it.
Up till today, I silently cursed myself. This man is in dire need of the money, yet he reaches out to help a healthy, full youth in want of the cash just to submit to his seniors. I felt morally deprived, accepting money from one who needs it more than me.
Those who delegate us the task of collecting the money lack a touch of sincerity. Years of repeating this scouting tradition has lost its significance - on the contrary, the practice has become a mechanical obligation. Up to now, I don't even know how much of the money we earn goes to the Scout HQ, and how much of it is transferred to 'charitable organisations'. It weighs down my heart to think that we may be exploiting the poor, using the excuse to help others in need to manifest our earnings.
We can see perfectly well everything around us, yet sometimes we cannot comprehend the true situation. Much of what we see or hear is falsified and fabricated by 'official' documents. Personally, I can't help but not trust those who tell us that we are helping the community, for we cannot see those whom we will touch with our services. It is different, much much more different, if we had been by the side of the ailing and the needy, rather than indirectly contributing to their funds, believing that we are doing a great favour for them. After the NKF saga, I feel disgusted to think that the organisations whom we believe help us transfer funds to the needy are eating out a portion of the total money meant for them. It is no better than an act of stealing from a poor, old man.
We are blinded by ten-ton eyelids of ignorance and lack of understanding. Only by truly giving our hearts to those who's lives have taken an unexpected turn for the worst can we truthfully admit that we have been touching their lives. The warmth of a stranger's hand and the realization that the stranger whom they talk to can listen and understand is sometimes better than receiving cash from nowhere. Loneliness cannot be cured by money. This rectangular sheet of paper cannot be exchanged for the firm grip of a stranger's hand conveying a sense of deep security.
I perceive that we may also learn from those we aid. Mutual sharing is the entire point of CIP. There is no meaning to the term 'Community Involvement' if we just collect money and transfer tham through secondary sources as we have not involved ourselves directly with the needy and the ailing. That said, I feel my heart go for those anonymous souls who visit the old folks' home rather than the parade of girls donned in school uniform prancing about Orchard Road with little tin cans and stickers with red crosses."
The above is truly frm the bottom of my heart. The story of the man with two limbs is true. I m still waddling in a pool of guilt for I know I could have done my part in giving him a moment of joy, such as grasping his weak, trembly hands or patting him on the back saying 'Thank you, but I simply cannot accept the money'.
Anyway the above is just wat i feel (stress: It is what I FEEL. all my reflections afterwards MAY NOT NECESSARILY BE WAT IS HAPPENING IN REAL LIFE. It is only ONE INCIDENT so i cant base my entire judgement on just an occurence). I respect charitable organisations for trying their best, putting their best foot forward to help others, just that i dont trust them 100% after that Jobweek incident and the NKF thing.
Okay, so that was the philosophical, thoughtful other side of me.
And this is the happy, carefree, idiosycrasy side of me:
GRANADO ESPADA!!!
GRANADO ESPADA!!!
GRANADO ESPADA!!!
NEXT POST I WOULD PUT MORE SCREENSHOTS!
GUO CONG ARE U READING THIS!!! LISTEN TO THE IMBANESS OF THE BG!!!
I scroll my camera to look at the sunset sky and I see the CLOUDS MOVING! In an MMORPG!!! WTH!!! IMBANESS
I also see TWO BIRDS FLYING IN THE DISTANCE!!! WoW SHOULD BE ASHAMED OF URSELF!
I zoom in at my characters and i see their EYES BLINK!!!!!
I look at the bottom of all the bridges and i see RENAISSANCE ART ON THE FOUNDATIONS!!!
OMG OMG!!!
Lol jerome said tt he slept at 2am ytd (woops i meant 2day!) playing Guild Wars. I told him i slept at 2am 2day playing Granado Espada!!! LOL
YUM SENG FOR MMORPGS!!!
On a side note, I think im really going to join S06A. Not a personal choice, but im beginning to consider how this would affect me in the future. If im the new lowest scorer in a class with a former lowest of GPA 3.70, there is nowhere left to go... but up.
Think they can help me improve my grades. I can have like, 25 tutors?
On another side note, TAD WELLMAN IS THEIR GP TEACHER!!! OMG!!! AM I DESTINED TO BE HIS STUDENT FOREVER??!!! FIRST LIT NOW THIS LOL
