Broke my heart…

D Natural Minor.
Subtle use of suspensions.
So intense and beautiful -
The one and only Joe Hisaishi.

So that would make me…?

I’m in a mini dilemma, contemplating if I should write this in such a public sphere. But I thought it over and figured hey, it is my writing space, is it not?

****

The truth is, over the past 2 weeks or so, I’ve been going through a mini crisis with regards to my church work, in particular my contribution to the youth’s music ministry.

I joined the group sometime ago, I think, and since then – whenever I was free – would join the group on the piano during Saturday evening masses.

Things were going very well. Then I was told I had to go for a formation. Get together with the larger committee, share, talk blah blah blah.

And despite my inital reluctance (I’m scared of overtly holy people) I actually enjoyed myself. Made new friends. Discovered that the committee was harmless. 10 weeks on, the formation ended.

Then I was told to go for another formation – a music formation.

Ah, I thought, what might be in store?

The formation, to put it very kindly, was shocking.

It turned out to be a sacred music formation. But that was not the problem. The problem was, the formation turned out to be a huge plug for why we must sing in Latin and the changes in liturgy that was to take place within the celebration of the mass. I was told that eventually we’d be praying and singing in Latin. To be in line with the Pope’s call and the church’s direction.

Sacred music. Latin. Gregorian chants.

But possibly the worst thing ever was the poor sod in charge of the ‘music’ formation, who turned out to be – shockingly – a musician who endorsed all things sacred. And who basically said – in not so many words – that Latin was the way to go. It was the language that should be taken on, adopted, taught. Sung. Prayed.

I raised my hand. I asked, have you not considered how Catholicism came into this part of the world? Are you aware that we were preached to, through missionaries? How do you explain therefore, our connection to Latin roots? Are we not a mission land if you were to take into consideration the many vernacular and indigenous communities who have embraced Christianity? Do you realise that the Latin language and the hymns you are to teach us is in fact very far from what we’ve been exposed to culturally? What is the wisdom and philosophy behind the teaching and singing of Latin, of sacred music?

I knew instantly that I was burning in hell. Opening up a can of worms. The night ended with me quietly sneaking to my car as the formation was ending with a ‘let us learn a Gregorian chant’ lesson.

The next day, I sent an e mail. Explained my behaviour and stated that I did not want to be a part of this formation. Apologised. Explained where I was coming from. Then elaborated and argued my points in a clear and concise manner.

For 2 weeks, no reply.

Then today, a phone call.

A call telling me I should be open. I should open my heart to these changes. Embrace it as a direction in which the church is moving.

I’m sorry, I said. I cannot be open so long these burning questions and concerns I have are not addressed or answered in a clear and non-biased manner. Is that wrong?

You are very strong-willed, said the caller.

****

So perhaps I am strong willed. But more than anything, I find this whole incident terribly ironic.

Ironic that in a time where we are fighting against deep-seated isolation, in a country that imposes restrictions on the universal word Allah – in effect segregating Christians who worship in that language – that we gripe about something as trivial as the language of the church.

Surely we have better things to focus on. Seriously.

On the go…

Although my many days are spent reading, researching and writing, I’ve been able to watch a fair bit of movies. Last month alone, I caught two animated films: Up and Ponyo on a Cliff by the Sea.

Ponyo was an absolute joy, although I have to say watching the movie did come with a fair bit of drama. The DVD of Ponyo was released here (in KL) 2-3 months ago so whilst visiting Noel in Penang, we watched it together.

And. It. Was. Horrible!

Rather, the English translation that came along with the movie was absolutely horrid. So horrid in fact, that I could not even understand what was going on! That bad! I was shocked and angry. So in August, while I was in Singapore, I spent some precious SGD on the Singapore release of Ponyo. All the while, I was praying that it wouldn’t turn out to be retarded Ponyo.

And phew, I was right! And what a gem of a movie it turned out to be!

While it draws similarities to My Neighbour Totoro, Ponyo reminded me of why I absolutely adore Miyazaki’s works. The most poignant and moving part of Ponyo, to me, had to be the very simple message that “In order to be fully human, one must be loved completely”.

Up was a different ball game altogether, very different from Miyazaki but I must say, it was so so sweet. Dug, the doggie in Up, had to be my favourite character of all as it reminded me so much of my Muffin.

The beauty of Up is that it makes you believe in the impossible. Flying house? Check. A million helium balloons? Check. But it was the characters of the movie that made Up so memorable and real.

Carl and Ellie’s relationship was what clinched it for me. Their story was featured very early in the movie and I have to say, it left me teary eyed. I am also compelled to mention that the particular scene of Carl and Ellie reading and holding hands pretty much encapsulates my relationship with Noel.

Oops. Too sappy a revelation. Moving on….

Merdeka?

Songsang

Maafkan aku, jika aku sering saja berlaku songsang
Terutama di perayaan tahunan seperti hari ini
Apabila orang bangun berdiri; aku duduk
Apabila orang bertepuk tangan; aku diam
Apabila orang ghairah berbincang; aku tidur
Apabila orang lepaskan merpati; aku taburkan padi
Orang lain telah merdeka; aku belum
Maafkan aku, jika aku sering saja berlaku songsang
Aku sekadar ingin mengingatkan…

~ Latiff Mohidin

Whirlwind…

Just returned from a whirlwind trip to Singapore with Noel; we basically made the trip there to rush for the annual Singapore National Library book sale. It was MAD. Lots of people – we were camped outside the doors an hour and a half early and it paid off. Result: I returned with 16 kilos of books and the Ah Boy 18. Price for my 16 kilos: SGD$ 29. I know. Bloody steal!

Anyway. Have been watching quite a number of movies this week. I watched Bruno (because you know, it’s probably never coming to Malaysian cinema) and Up (very, very sweet) in Singapore, and Yasmin Ahmad’s Talentime. The latter is playing at TGV cinemas (Malaysia) for a limited period so I made a point to catch it.

Talentime is unlike Sepet and Gubra but it is a gem of a movie. It was entertaining, quite light (unlike Gubra), funny but still had that sentimentality that is Yasmin Ahmad. The end of movie was the saddest for me. Pete Teo’s I Go played and I couldn’t help but feel how much it echoed the emotions of Yasmin’s death.

So long, fare thee well
The dancer and the dancing days have taken leave and fell
So turn down this bed of stone
Quench me with the deadly nightshade from the rose that you belong

The long December rain is falling now
Running down on streets to nowhere
Music is my life you’re my sweetest nightingale
But I can’t hear it here no more
And I go
I go

Hush now, don’t shake or break
Words have fallen silent like soldiers to the grave
No matter what they do or say
Lay me on the sleepy meadow by the tracks upon your face
_____________

Sigh. Sometimes I wonder why I’m still so affected by a death that seemingly has nothing to do with me. Or should it?