Living In A Bubble

I had this conversation yesterday with a friend of mine. It started off as usual. The niceties come first, and then everything else comes splurging out [as it always does with the two of us]. It's always the way it has been with any friend of mine, seeing as how every online conversation is either a catch up conversation or a debate for me.
Both of us have left the school that we met in, and, well, things have changed.
Some for the better, and some for the worst obviously. That's the point of every catch up conversation and every debate- to see how much we've all changed, and in which direction. But I guess we've all changed because of our environment.
The stories get told, and experiences come bursting forth, and the memories are rapidly painted with paint that came from no-where- paint that doesn't match the scene that we once knew. You'd be surprised about the kind of words and adjectives we use to describe what used to be the centre of our world. It's like trying to paint a tree with turquoise leaves. It's so different. Of course, some would say it was green, and others would comment it was blue. Such is my situation now.

Back in GIS, I lived in a bubble.

Not just ANY bubble, it was a very translucent, tiny sort of bubble. It was porous, but only with the most minute of holes. I guess, in plain english: GIS is like a protective little bubble. In your own safe world. Things happen this particular way, and you don't question it. You never do. You've got your own entertainment, you've got your luxuries, and you've got your hardships. Your friends are the most important thing to you, and hanging out with them is all that matters. The picture lurking around on the edges of the bubble is unseen, and at best, plainly ignored. This is the system as it is accepted. What happens before, and indeed, what happens after, is something else entirely.

And in a way, I'm glad I left. I was completely clueless. I was in over my head with everything. I had no idea what I was doing, or why. Sure it's disciplined. Sure it's organised. And it's always going to be one of the best schools I've been to. But any longer and I may have turned out to be someone else, not the person I am today. Possibly a bit of an air head with no aim and my nose constantly being higher than the rest of my head. And it's not just GIS, it's pretty much any international school I've been to.
BISM in the Philippines was also another bubble. The campus I went to closed down recently, almost six years after I left, and operations are now running in a different part of the city. And looking at all the photos from the reunion that I was unable to attend, I see now more than ever the kind of world that I was isolated in. The campus was so beautiful- it's possibly, easily the most extravagent school campus I've ever been in. And it was my little world. It was my mini universe. But life wasn't really like that. Did I ever really know much about the Philippines? Did I ever know much about its culture? Did I even care? And to be really honest, do I actually know why ex-President Estrada was jailed? Or why the Philippines is so poor?

I'm so into politics and culture now, that I'm choosing - hoping - to make it the career of my life. I can't imagine a life away from travelling and writing. If I'd stayed in GIS, I can pretty much guarantee that I'd probably be there for the rest of my life. Refusing to move. Refusing change. Most international school kids have no idea what kind of life other people have. Most of them are rich. As an international school kid, I had everything paid for me. My education, my house, my car, my petrol- all paid for by my dad's company whom I blame solely for my constant country hopping. When you suddenly stop being an international school kid- what happens then?
I have a casual job now, in Australia. Most of my friends seem to think I am now working to feed my family whilst attending school. And that's not the reason. I'm working to earn extra cash. And it's not as if I'm the only one doing it. It's just an accepted way of life in Australia, but of course, would an international school kid really know that unless they tried to move out of their bubble?

My bubble has burst, and in doing so, I've finally learnt to breathe the fresh air that's been kept from me. I've made new friends, seen new places, had new experiences. And looking back, it's like watching a play. Running around in their daily lives, having their little problems, encountering the same experiences time and time again. Their sights are confined to that one area on the horizon, that pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. And once that's achieved, what else is there to aim for? Will they know how to move on? Will they know what to do with that pot of gold? And will it in fact even remain the gold that it should have and could have been?
It's a little ironic while I'm at it. International school kids have the most diverse upbringing in any country. Coming from so many countries, and meeting so many different races- are they really as ignorant as that? I have to say yes. I know [and unfortunately still have to deal with] the ignorance of kids in a public high school [my cousin asked me if Robert Mugabe, president of Zimbabwe was Australian- go figure] and I can easily, and faithfully say that the ignorance will only last so long as you let it. I have friends who've never even left the town that they're living in, much less the country, and they have an incredibly acute sense of what's happening around them, and the event surrounding them.

So many questions, so little time. But moving away has indefinitely solved some of life's questions for me, and I know I can tackle whatever come ahead. I have a finer appreciation for what's around me, and an acute sense of anything going wrong. And as a bonus, if I ever need to move somewhere, I will have contacts in whatever country I do decide to live in. =)

Mishy <3