Yvonne Foong

Hey there..

I do not know the bible well. But one thing I do know. The stories in the bible took place a long time ago. Back in the days when men had limited knowledge in maths and science, when laws were passed down from one generation to another, kings ruled by divine right. people then were barbaric. They committed incense, adultery, cannibalism, mutilation, et cetera. The bible is rich as a historical gem. Through it we get a glimpse of what society was like during the times of the Christian orthodox church.

We must also understand the God who spoke at the time of Adam and Eve, is the same God we speak of today. Why then did He teach men different laws? My opinion is this: because men need different laws at different times.

For example, when Moses led the Israelites out and away from the Eygptians, God was angry and cursed the Egyptians. But as soon as that was over, God sent Jesus to us, and taught us to love thy neighbor as thyself. Because during Jesus’ time, the time was right to teach men about love and tolerance. Today, we no longer commit the kind of sins that the Egyptians then did. Even though there are still differences among us today, these are cultural differences. All religion are inherently good. But during the time of the old testament, other religions referred to idolatry, the worshiping of the sun, the moon, animals, and what not, that involved barbaric acts.

Therefore, it is crucial to study the bible objectively, have a broad world-view and try to understand why things are as they are.

People today often talk about Satan. Satan lead us to sin, Satan causes us trouble. But people don’t see what Satan in the bible means.

Remember Lucifer was banished because he wanted to be God. He was jealous of God and tried to influence others to worship him instead. And that angered God. Remember, our God is a loving and forgiving God. If Lucifer had sin in other ways, perhaps God could have forgiven him. But Lucifer wanted to be God. He was egoistic.

I believe the story of Satan is to teach us and remind us not to be egoistic. The ego is a constant struggle for many people, myself included. Because an overactive ego leads to all kinds of sins - jealousy, dishonesty, selfishness, et cetera.

But these are only my opinion. Hope you’ll know God personally. Investigate, investigate, investigate!

What am I talking about?

Someone forwarded me this letter that made her unsure about the Bible.

These are just my opinion. Feel free to speak otherwise. But don’t call names..

Dad sat in his chair just a feet away, calmly watching me attempt back-breaking maneuvers wrapping and tying a box meant for Holly at least 20kg. I could never help asking myself what’s so nice watching me grimace with every exertion.

Nothing new. He did that when Aunt Ivy was alive. He did that when Mom and I carried loads and loads of t-shirts throughout 2006.

Reminding him about my damaged nerves and complicating spine surgery never helped. He would roll his eyes and make a face. Eventually. Mom and I learned not to expect help from him. I have to thank God for Mom, who could carry a luggage that male staff at LAX struggled with. She’s always the one who carried my luggage at the airport while Dad simply watched.

Dad only became obviously senile in the past year. Prior to that, he appeared very normal. He was capable of writing letters, criticizing people, yelling at mom with all kind of words, draw landscapes although they all looked about the same, and filing complaints. The only problem that went way back was his lack of speech coherence and irresponsibility. He would jump from one topic to another, often repeating himself and annoying the listener.

And seemingly normal the way he was, it always angered me that he simply watched Mom and I suffer like that. Until this day, Mom never forgets how he left her to cook and manage a food court stall despite promising to assist her before she invested in the business. His only concern was money for petrol since he had to drop her off at work and pick her up in the evening.

Mom has aged beyond her years. She only got better recently, when I managed to raise funds for surgery. write for the newspaper and not depend on her for daily expenses. Mom is still shouldering the household expenses, but with me all grown up and independent now, she can better tolerate my dad the way he is.

Whenever I came back from the U.S. I would be surprised by Mom’s uncouth responses in our everyday conversation, frowning and grimacing, almost a look of disgust whenever she was reluctant or disagreed with me. I thought the responses were over the top and uncalled for.

Then, after settling in, I would observe the way she interacts with dad and see how her habits were cultured. Because Dad is hard to communicate with as he tends to yell at mom over petty issues.

When I was a teenager, mom often said she could had left if it wasn’t for me. Mom and I switched positions now. She’s the one telling me to accept dad the way he is. “You know he’s not thinking straight,� she would say with a mixture of apathy and tiredness.

I suppose the first thing that drove me into the field of Psychology could have been dad. Who knows?
At the end of the day, dad is not a bad person. He isn’t malicious and he won’t think of cheating or hurting people. Somehow he’s just different. I never knew which part of the brain where the bloodclot formed, but much of his behavior seem to stem from damages to the cerebral cortex and frontal lobes.

Even thiugh I dislike some of her habits, mom and I have come to find joy in each other, while enduring dad’s psychopathic behavior.

I’ve got this habit whereby I don’t thoroughly edit my blog post before publishing. See, I added two words to this post and it made all the difference.

“I know it sounds so great ‘and boastful’ to say I do things only if it means helping others…”

The words “so great” to me meant an image of greatness that wasn’t intended. But I did not explain myself accurately in using that word.

I often have to go back and edit my old posts. Gosh, I have a problem.

Anyway, I suppose we all have our driving forces and motivations.

Here’s what I set aside for Holly to sell in America.

HEART4HOPE T-SHIRTS!

White
51 Extra large
40 Large
33 Small

Black
11 Extra Large
13 Large
33 Small

Grey
4 Extra Large
14 Large

HEART4HOPE AMBIGRAM CAPS!

10 Blacks
10 Whites

I asked the NF2crew to see whether it’s feasible sending more caps to Holly. The caps aren’t doing so well in Malaysia so I’m not sure if it will sell better in the U.S. Don’t want to send something that she can’t sell because additional weight costs more postage fee. Let’s see what the folks say.

Thank you Rajiv for the boxes.

I am mailing a bulk of Heart4Hope t-shirts to Holly Alonzo in Arkansas so she may sell them on her own. These still-new shirts of mine have been occupying a corner in my house for some time. I have a lot of XL that the average Malaysian find too big. They are just nice when used to raise funds for Holly being where she is. Most Americans her area can use an XL.

I will not be claiming back any money for the shirts. I just want to see Holly well. I believe she needs them more than I do. If waking up from surgery blind eight years ago wasn’t bad enough, she was later deafened in one ear, and now her residual hearing is going too. Holly’s determination to save her hearing has touched me. Thinking about her young child, Holly hopes to preserve her hearing so she may continue to care for her family.

Holly is proactive herself. All I had to do was give her that vote of confidence before she decided to stick with Dr. Friedman’s offer to help and work hard to purchase the A.B.I. Together with her family, Holly is constantly finding ways to help herself. I am so proud of her.

I can’t help as much as I want to from a distance. Pelf kindly designed some banners for Holly and I did up Holly’s blog over here.

I want to help her out more. So I decided to donate my shirts to her. It would be much cheaper to send Malaysia-made t-shirts to her than expecting her to print them on her own. Not to forget, Holly’s loss of eyesight is problematic too.

Now, postage might be a little expensive, even by regular airmail. The bulk would come up to several kilograms. I hope someone would sponsor the cost of posting these shirts to Arkansas, please?

Estimated cost is RM200 for 5kg worth of postage.

When I told Reuben about my signing up for only three subjects this semester, he said, “Only three? Girl, do you want to spend so much time in college? You should take at least four or five”.

I explained how it is better to master fewer subjects at a slower pace, than speeding up the degree at the expense of our grades, and mental health.

But his words replayed in my mind over and over again in various forms. “Are you going to stay in college forever?”, “Will you ever graduate?”

And so, I topped up with another subject - Issues and Ethics in the Helping Profession.

Went to my first class of Issues and Ethics yesterday. Neither Kenrick, Reuben, Pei Wen, nor Shaun will be taking it with me, so I am left to depend on other students for help. Upon entering, I set up my laptop and explained my needs to the girl next to me. She helped type a little. “Whats he talking about?” I had to ask repeatedly. “He’s talking about….” and she was back to staring down at her notepad. While the class engaged in active discussion, I was at lost most of the time. I remembered Reuben and Kenrick, and even Yeeu Jen who typed for me during cellgroup meetings, i missed them and I wanted to leave, but then I reminded myself that I cannot always depend on Reuben. I remember what he said, albeit with good intentions, “You’re so dependent.” I decided to stay.

Then like the press of a switch, I felt sad, teary and almost down-in-the-dumps. Okay it’s not that bad. But almost. I am aware of it and find it peculiar how I can become sad immediately like that. Perhaps it’s already conditioned in me, throughout 2007 of not having a typist in class. Things got better in Fall but one of the subjects, Elemental Statistic was most depressing because of a lecturer who doesn’t communicate well. Most students not just myself, could not understand him.

And the sadness from yesterday can still be felt today. I feel as if I had woken up from a tearful, energy-draining episode.

In L.A. I could carry Steven’s clothes to the laundry four rounds, feel a little worn, but never drained like this.

I look into the mirror, at my face and wonder if I am indeed seeing a hint of depression showing.

Maybe not yet depression. But stress is the major leading cause of Clinical Depression today.

Am I living right?

I’m so exhausted! Wore only a camisole and minishorts to brave the scorching sun. With the lack of balance nerves in the brain and having to carry a 3kg laptop, the 15-minute stroll drained a lot of energy.

It’s a stroll because I need to slow down and concentrate harder at every step to keep myself balanced. Unlike the insides of shopping malls, KL streets and pavements are very dangerous for an NF patient.

Someone saw me heading towards Taylor’s College this afternoon. Did you know that pathway behind their new signage in big, read blocks is inviting lawsuits? But in Malaysia, suing Taylors would mean creating trouble for yourself. I just don’t understand why people are so stupid to spend thousands on contruction only to produce “fancy” pathways with uneven and jagged stone slaps. Healthy people would have to slow down and physically challenged ones like myself would curse you everytime we pass by. If you’re going to spend that money, then produce something safe and efficient, no?

So after mailing a copy of my book to the Philippines, I waited under sun and hailed a cab 3 minutes later. I opened the front passenger door and told the driver I was going to The Summit. He mumbled something I couldn’t hear, but I got on anyway. Passengers shouldn’t have to ask for permission before riding a cab!

The uncle in his old age tried starting a conversation but I apologized and explained that I’m deaf. I added that my exact destination was Segi College, next to The Summit. He nodded, and the rest of our journey was silent.

Upon reaching my college, I gave him a five dollar note, which he took and slipped into his front pocket. I looked at him, expecting to receive change. But he lifted up both hands and showed me six fingers. “Six dollars,” he said.

“But uncle, at most, it should be RM3.50!” I protested like a child–my usual demeanour.

He hesitated, nose pointed in the air. But I continued looking at him, so he fetched a stack of dollar bill and gave me two pieces.

“Thanks!” I smiled, handling him three twenty cent coins.

Actually there was no jam between the post office and college, so it should have cost RM2.70. Consider those coins as tips then.

Like Reuben said, we can’t change people. But we can influence them.

“What do you do for fun?� Trina asked. “I bake, read, watch movies, or drink tea and just watch the world go by. What about you?�
“I don’t do anything for fun,� I said.
“You don’t do anything for fun? Why not?�
“�I don’t know�.
“Well, fun is nice. Why not try it?�

I guess she asked a pretty good question. Often I thought myself as a boring person who doesn’t do anything “fun�. But I’m fine.

My cousin HR visited yesterday. Concerned with her mental health, I invited her over to see how she’s coping. We had lunch at Sunway Pyramid while mom went off to work. With her limited student budget, HR brought only RM14 with her. I said lunch is on me and took her to Sushi King, Manhattan Fish Market, Sakae Sushi, and what have you. But HR insisted we ate something cheaper. She suggested McDonalds.

I said you can eat MCD any day in college, so let me treat you to a proper meal, since we seldom meet up.

We settled for Kenny Rogers, which in my opinion is just an overpriced fastfood joint. I would rather pick cook-to-order even if it means smaller portions. But as we walked all over deciding, I realized something peculiar about HR. She needed familiarity. McD, KFC, and Kenny Rogers are made popular with prominent advertising. She did not have to think twice.

And I should let HR order her food first before deciding mine. I didn’t know that yesterday, so after suggesting HR the quarter chicken platter, I left her alone to choose three side dishes and returned to my own menu.

From the corner of my eyes, I saw HR glanced uneasily at the choices, her fingers making subconscious selections. But whenever I turned the pages of my menu, HR got distracted and flipped her menu as though mimicking me. Sometimes, she closed the menu altogether and pushed it aside only to open it again.

I thought she didn’t know what to select, and when I asked her, she simply shrugged. But when the waiter took our orders, HR was able to point out her choice of side dishes with some effort.
We walked around some after lunch. Knowing HR doesn’t take much interest in sightseeing or window shopping (not even theme parks), I entered the stores I thought would provide her at least some amusement. She seemed okay and took interest in some things. A few stores later, my legs found themselves heading towards MPH and before I knew it, I got engrossed with books all the while wondering if HR would be okay. She picked up some books and appeared to read them. I asked her several times if she’s fine with me spending some time here, she said yes. She browsed another book and appeared to be reading it, then suddenly she tapped my shoulders. “I need to do my coursework.�

“Oh, sorry. I forget myself once I enter a bookstore�. Sje grinned cheerfully. So we headed home and talked awhile before she left.

Back at my house, HR appeared more composed and mindful. Familiarity. My house was familiar to her.

Now that HR was gone, I got on the internet, read some Jet Li articles, fetched some books from the study, and contemplated about helping Holly.

HR and I are similar in that we both do not always enjoy shopping. But while I prefer reading or immersing myself in projects and discussions, 22-year-old HR is mentally distressed without knowing.

That’s a glimpse of my daily life. I really don’t do anything for fun. And when I do, I do it because it means helping others. Much like why I attended the AMBP bloggers’ gathering to help Fiona socialize and keep her company.

I know it sounds so great and boastful to say I do things only because it‘s helpful. But that’s just the way I am.

I rather read a book and have a cuppa at Starbucks than shopping, or have light heart-to-heart talk with one friend than mingling with a group.

I’m really that boring.

Here are some updates on Holly. Pelf will soon jump-start an online blog campaign. You will be reading about Holly more often in the blogosphere.

I am seeing whether we can channel donations directly to the hospital intended for Holly’s surgery. At the same time, I wish to bring HEART4HOPE to the states, Holly‘s home country, by first raising funds among my friends in Southern California.

Please consider donating to Holly while we work on our respective fundraising projects. You can send money directly to Holly using Paypal at this page. This PayPal account is run by Holly herself.

Meanwhile, Dr. Friedman will try persuading St. Vincent Hospital to give Holly a reduced price package for hospitalization.

Below is a photograph of Holly with her husband and child, followed by a portrait of her son Isaiah. E-mail me if you need larger versions.

Here is a photograph of Dr. Friedman and I.