Minicast: Pretty Boy, UF & Unassuming

     
 

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The Last Time

The last time I volunteered for UWRF, I had coffee with a beautiful Javanese boy, for an hour or so on a lazy afternoon while waiting for the bus that was to take me home.

You know that feeling, when someone else's prettiness makes us feel pretty? He was so pretty that it was flattering just to hold be held in his attention for those few golden minutes of stolen, shy glimpses. I got hooked on Ubud because of him.  And, hey I didn't even have to jeopardize the celestial universe that silly "thou shall duly observe the universal laws" thing for it!

This Time

I would've went last year if it weren't for my brother's Saudi wedding. Alas, time passes and here we are again.

This year, I plan(ned) to stalk him, my pretty boy. Heck, what straight girl wouldn't? I wanted to have him for at least just one more cup of coffee, if only to indulge in the pleasure of being admired for knowing the difference between espresso and kopi tubruk. Then, Lo! That tiny bit of selfish longing grew! It gained unnoticed grams of obesity that it depressed me worse than, say, not going at all. To hell with all the writers and books and linguistic diarrhea. Without this one boy no sonata would blend, no sentence ends…You know the bends.

It's so vain. This is exactly why Buddha puts cravings & aversions at root of ALL miserably petty dramas. It's my overthinking, my chosen suffering, my falacy that I'm crushed under.

Start Over

The last time I volunteered for UWRF, I loved it to the point of blushing.

From the crazy start until when the Timekeeper summoned me home, I was high on absentia exspectationes. I went there not knowing what to expect. I didn't know anybody. I didn't know what I was going to do, or even where to sleep and eat.

Consequently, that slight daredevil mentality did not allow me the luxury to doze: I just had to pay attention to my environment.  Memorize faces and names and places to eat and sleep and work. While maintaining an unassuming slate of mind, kept me on the alert, it also allowed me to interact with any kind of people, adapting smooth to situations, and absorbing as much as that strange land had to offer.

Hence, if there was an expectation (or a self-inflicted suffering) to entertain, then it would have to be this: to do my the job and do it well.

Otherwise, what right of duty have I to be there?

 
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