My point is...

Ha! Again another blog. Typical me, never settle for anything for too long. I've another blog here but I thought I just want to use this one to talk about my life as an Iban girl (not a girl per se but who cares) who is flying high far far away from her roots but always yearning for the olden days. Heck, I'm not old just wistful.

I was having a conversation with a friend about three months ago about how we butchered our mother tongue (man, I was having a hard time spelling that) and adopted other languages to communicate with each other everyday. I thought about it for awhile and yeah, he was right. Even though that I can speak fluently in Iban, I certainly would stumble in certain words - even basic words - to express myself. Shame. It made me thinking, where am I in this grand scheme of thing as my ethnic shuffles along with the rest of the world? I guess I'm lost. No matter how much I love being in my parents' longhouses, I can't stay there for too long. The cyber world would call me and nudge me to move on. There's my work and general commitment to life.

But then I don't belong in this great city either. I feel lost among ubernites. Modernization with its stark rigidity repulses me for deep within I long for a carefree existence with nature, my hardworking folks toiling under the sun, and jolly good time with a simple cup of black coffee (or tepid Milo) and tasteless crackers. I miss that. I'm in transition. Neither here nor there. So, there goes, this blog will record that unique point of view of someone who is searching for an assurance to move on and carry her heritage with grace and pride.