Sunday, December 14th 2008

Isn't Jet Li just adorable?

After several days of being home, I don't feel the need to express my anger at my sister's friend anymore. I just feel so relieved to be away from SC, and glad to be home. Am so very thankful I don't have to care about her anymore, and her incessant pelting me with insults. I don't feel angry with her anymore, or at least at the moment, but if I ever have to, all my anger has been recorded somewhere, so I'll just pull it out then.

I'm so thankful and grateful to be back here. I'm looking forward to celebrating Chew's birthday with her tomorrow, and I'm also looking forward to attending the Choir concert on the 19th with Samira and Freda. It feels so good to be back around people whom I'm familiar with, whom I feel safe around.
It also feels good to finally be taken seriously. Most of what I said on the Yunnan trip was taken to be nonsense, and more jokes and insults followed.

Actually, I'm thankful for SC and my sister's incessant pelting of insults. Each time they hurled one at me, it gave me a chance to think. It trained me to dig deeper into meanings of words they said, it taught me how to laugh them off, it taught me how to argue with or side myself. I've gone back into thinking-and-staring mode, which I lost about 2 years ago, and I'm happy to have it back.

Basically, this trip taught me to survive anything, physically, mentally, psychologically. It was like a boot camp, just with nicer living conditions, but with no shortage of teasing and insults and jokes made about you. Through all this, I still met nice people, learnt new things, and saw China like I had never seen before.
I never knew I could come to love a country that I hated so much.

However, there is something I feel the need to share with all you people who faithfully read my blog.
You do know I have a fascination with serial killers, right? There were people like Jeffrey Dahmer, Ed Gein, Albert Fish, and of course our fictitious Hannibal Lecter, but you'll never realise their true evil until you see them commit a crime. Reading about it isn't enough, not even watching a movie portray their crimes. Only when you see the satisfaction on their faces as they kill, will you know their true depth of evil.

I, myself, never really knew what evil was until that day I was forced to watch the slaughtering of pigs. We were at Tiger Leaping Gorge, staying at some guest-house and waiting for breakfast, when I heard a scream pierce through the morning air. You'll never know how painful it sounds unless you hear it, live, for yourselves.
"I have just witnessed the killing of a pig. Its screams were deafening, and I saw them carry the bucket to the table before slitting its throat. When they slit its throat, the screams stopped, leaving only a weak, high-pitched squeal, then there was silence."

That was taken from my notebook, which I carried around with me on the trip. The evil I saw was not in the faces of the men who killed the pig. No. It was in the face of SC who held the camera, recording the whole thing in a video.
None of the men looked very happy, their faces were portraits of pain itself. What struck me most hardly and disturbed me most was that on SC's face, emotion was there, painted in a smile.