Lecturers are like a box of chocolates; y'never know what yer gonna get

I've had lecturers who taught me life lessons, and lecturers who brought lessons to life. Some lecturers make their classes so stimulating, it's like sipping on the most tantalizing mug of hot coffee while reading the latest issue of National Geographic. You know these type of lecturers. They're the ones whose names remain at the tip of your tongue even though they taught you two years ago, the ones who ignited passion for the subject within you, the ones who made studying an enjoyable and interesting experience. You use them as the benchmark for "The Perfect Lecturer", and inevitably compare all other lecturers to them, almost always unfavourably.

Unfortunately, there also exists a category lecturers who make their classes a hideous, pus-filled pimple on the flawless forehead of a brand new day. To attend their class is the equivalent of being forced to watch Twilight -- in other words, you'd rather just sit at the back and engage in conversation with the person sitting behind you, or derive satisfaction from the experience by bitching about it.

Here, I shall list down the worst crimes a lecturer can commit, based on my experiences:

a) Speaking monotonously
I'm sure each of us has, at least once, secretly wondered whether the person speaking at the front is actually a robot. A robot programmed to recite terms and definitions while the real lecturer is off smoking a ciggy somewhere in the staffroom. So astounding is their dictation that even a topic which you know should be exciting sounds like a grocery-shopping list for a family of 12. As your eyelids droop and your attention wavers, your goal for an A in this subject couldn't be more desperate and fleeting than if you were stranded in the middle of an ocean, praying to be rescued. Your lifeboat is your text book, and God forbid if it's as flimsy and full of holes as the Intro to Political Science text book.

b) Speaking off-topic
Nothing brings life back to a boring lesson about, say, social theory then when the lecturer suddenly sits on the desk, hands clasped together on top of his crossed legs, and starts narrating a really interesting story about how he got arrested during his back-packing trip to Iraq, or a hilarious anecdote involving his neurotic wife, his overweight baby and a bowl of cold porridge. But then, when he spends the rest of the one-and-a-half hour telling that story in intricate detail, no matter how interesting it all is, you start to wonder; does this have anything to do with what he's being paid to teach, and you're paying to learn? It's okay for lecturers to stray away from the course outline once in a while, especially if it's to liven up a class on a Friday evening, or to impart valuable life lessons. But it's not okay for them to turn a subject about the Psychology of Development into a subject on How To Deal When Your Wife Goes Shopping (And Other Life Stories of Me), fascinating as it may be.

c) Reading strictly from PowerPoint slides
These lecturers, upon entering class, immediately sink into their seats comfortably and start reading, or mumbling, PowerPoint slides out loud. All else is forgotten by the lecturer, including the definition of 'teaching'. What also slips his mind is that university students can read for themselves what is projected in gigantic fonts on the board in front of them, and that what they actually need is a lecturer who can explain or elaborate upon the points written up there. But maybe the expectations of us students are simply too high; after all, there's a reason the term "absent-minded professor" was coined.

d) The Syok Sendiri Syndrome
This is the lecturer who stands up at the front of the class and talks and talks and talks, while the students don't have a clue to what she's talking about. When you raise a hand to ask a question, she either says, 'wait! I'm not finished yet!!!' and starts steam-rolling on with facts that mean nothing to you until you give up and play a comforting game of Quadrapop on your phone, or she listens to your question and calmy answers, 'If you'd been paying attention to what I've been saying all along, you'd know the answer. Now shut up and listen to me teach'. When she hands back your horrible examination papers after marking them, she'll either say, 'I don't understand how so many of you could have failed. It's so easy!!!', or 'You idiots, have you learned nothing from me? Have you not paid attention in class?' If you show one sign of not understanding their complex explanations, instead of rephrasing, giving more examples, or elaborating further, they just get exasperated that you can't catch up to them -- never mind that they are Ph.D or Master graduates in this subject, and you're just a 20-year-old who's learning it for the first time. These, you see, are all symptoms of the Syok Sendiri Syndrome.

That's all I can come up with so far, based on my personal experiences and tales of woe from my friends. Feel free to share your opinions in the comments! :)

Angels VS Demons

The part I enjoyed most was when we left the cinema hall and Yeng told us he thought the movie Angels & Demons would, literally, be about angels and demons fighting each other, as he had no idea what the book was about. A ludicrous image of horrendous winged monsters descending on earth for an epic battle that culminates into an apocalypse immediately popped into my mind, and it was so vastly different from what the movie was really about that me and and my sister, KakAmnah, promptly burst into laughter. You should have been there.

Or maybe not.

The movie was okay. On the positive angelic side, I was enjoying myself (unlike when I was watching Watchmen, which was the equivalent of, as one critic put it, a sledgehammer pounding on your brain for 3 hours). But on the demonic side, I just felt it could have been better. Now, I get that movies based on books can't be exactly like the book (I learned that the hard way, when I was 12 and watched the first Harry Potter movie and almost hyperventilated at the fact that Harry Potter's beautiful, bottle-green eyes were blue!) and I know that some deviations actually make the story better when transitioned from page to screen (The Lord of The Rings is a classic example, though there are still some parts I disagree with -- like how they gave Arwen too much screen time and turned her into a breathy, helpless sap), and of course directors tend to make the movies more action-packed than the book originally is for visual pleasure.

But in this movie's case, what was climatic in Angels & Demons The Book was watered down for Angels & Demons The Movie. Why?

The why's that echoed in my throughout the whole movie was like a demon constantly whispering in my ear.

Why did they make that murdered old guy Vittoria's partner instead of her dad? No, really. What was the point of that?

Why was the assasin just a hired man with no personal vendetta against the Catholic church, and why was he hot?

Why was Tom Hanks wearing speedos in the swimming pool scene? Speedos are just not flattering, man. And while we're at it, why Tom Hanks, when it's been emphasised in the book that Langdon is supposed to look hot like Harrison Ford?

Why did Olivetti look so darn familiar? (This one nagged me the most. I later found out from Kak Aisya that he acted in Prince Caspian). And why did he have such a weird accent that eventually turned into pure American accent? And why was he so hot? Book Olivetti was not hot, period.

Why did Vittoria rip that page out from the book? WHY?! I literally gasped out loud. It's an ancient book! There's only ONE COPY in the whole world!!!! At least just take the whole book with you!!!! There's no need to deface it like that!

Why didn't Mr. Hot Assasin try to kill Langdon? It would have made the movie more action-packed, and the audience would have totally lapped up a violent fistfight between the two!

Why did the Camerlengo have to shout "He's the one! He's holding the gun!"? Because, really.

Why did they make The Revelation so... meh? You know which part I'm talking about. The part that made your eyes pop out and your heart speed up and your mouth to fall open as you read it in the book. I'm talking about the moment the camerlengo gets a vision about where the anti-matter is located and starts running madly underground. In the book, it was Epic. In the movie, it was...nothing.

Why didn't Langdon hop on that damn helicopter?

Why was there no chemistry between Langdon and Vittoria, to the point that the movie gave up on any hint of romance between them? True, it was pointless in the book and kinda predictable (the hero gets the hot babe, shocker!!), but a movie like this needs a good romantic story to give it some ooomph, baby!

Why "Luke"?

You're taking what?

Whenever I tell people the course I'm taking, I usually get blank stares, surprised looks or skeptical gazes. Replies range from:

"Apa tuh?"

"Ingat awak budak political science! Awak ada muka poli la."

"Eh, bukan ko nak ambik mass comm?"

*pause* "Why that?"

And, of course, not forgetting the evergreen "what are you gonna work as with a degree in that?"

I will never forget the day I registered for my major, last semester. I marched into the sociology department, form and transcript in hand, and told the motherly-looking lady behind the counter that I'd like to be a soca student.

'Hmmm,' she said, adjusting her glasses and running an eye over my transcript. 'La, ni, Intro to Political Science dah dapat A. Kenapa nak ambik soca pulak?'

I couldn't believe it. The assistant to the Head of the Sociology Department herself was trying to nudge me away from Sociology with the subtlety of a stampeding hippopotamus. On steroids. She might as well have dropkicked me all the way to the Political Science department.

'Sebab...saya lebih suka Sociology?' Damn, why did I have to raise the end of the sentence like that? Of course I preferred Sociology over Political Science! The only reason I got A for the latter was because I'd gotten the best lecturer ever to teach me, plus some extra coaching from my brother-in-law over a topic that miraculously came out as an essay question during the final exams. Sure, I can still rattle off the differences between parlimentary and presidencial democracy at the drop of a hat, but my interest in Political Science is wholly theoretical, and it depends on the lecturers I get. There was no way I could survive majoring in it.

The assistant looked at me skeptically, then proceeded to approve the forms. Being a busybody, I took a sneak peak at the pile of forms that had just been approved by the assistant. The one on the top was a transcript of a student who had gotten C+ for her Sociology intro. My eyes widened. Were their standards that low?

'Eh, that's private!' the assistant gently rebuked me when she noticed my wandering eye.

I blushed and apologised before leaving the office with the approval form in my hand and second doubts in my head. I didn't care that sociology was one of the most overlooked departments in Human Sciences (second only to History), but if the staff of the department itself looked down on it, was I really making the right decision?

That question haunted me the whole of that semester, especially as I was taking two of the dullest sociology subjects in existence. I learned nothing about race and ethnicity, or social problems, or stratification -- nothing, in fact, that would make my ears perk up and my eyes go round and shiny with pure, geeky enthusiasm. Instead, I was memorising theories of decrepit thinkers and tongue-twising terms used in research methods. Boh-ring! My passion towards Sociology petered out into whisps of nothingness. It didn't help that a lot of people were incredulous when they found out what I was majoring in. Even I was incredulous at times.

And then short semester started, and I registered for Social Stratification. Which is basically awesome and everything that I asked for in Sociology.

*goes into geek mode*

One thing about studying sociology is that it truly opens your eyes to the world that you're living in. It's not like political science, where you only get to sneer at the politicians and their petty scramble for power, or psychology, where you get to analyse your friend's behaviour, and give yourself a pat on the back when they act according to your predictions. Both of those are, of course, beyond cool. But sociology is about learning the collective behaviour of society as a whole. It encompasses politics, history, the media, and, of course, individuals. Plus more. You study things that you would otherwise take for granted because it's how things have always been. For example; why do people always avoid each other's gazes when they're in an elevator? Is hard work really the only ingredient to success? Why has society always been hierarchal, and why do we accept it? How do racists justify themselves? What is the likelihood of an offspring of criminal parents becoming a criminal as well?

Hee hee! :D

The weather's getting hotter, and people are getting fatter

You know, at this rate, we human beings just might have to abandon this overcooked planet and spend the rest of our lives stuffing our faces as we whizz through a bloated spaceship in our automated wheelchairs, leaving poor robots to fix our dirty work.

It's crazy; by 8am, the sun's rays are already scorching, and the intensity of the beams don't stop until 7pm. You can taste the very heat in the air even if you're under the shade of an umbrella. I've been showering more than 3 times a day lately -- this coming from a girl who used to be able to survive 3 days without showering. (When not required to leave the house, that is.)

Meanwhile, people still insist on driving their vehicles around the campus, even though every building is within walking distance. Idiots. Don't they realise that their selfish polluting is making the heat even worse? Why don't you get the hell out of your car and start walking like the rest of us? God gave you legs to walk, not to push pedals. Worse are those who constantly indulge in weight-whining, and then instead of using the journey between class and hostel as an opportunity to burn their wobbly fat and do everyone a favour, they burn fuel instead. Pure genius.

I'm hot, and I'm pissed off. Obviously.

An Overdue Update!!!

Hello again, everyone! :D Yes, finally, after, I dunno, a month of luxuriating in blogging holiday, I have [cue deep, menacing, velvety-rich trailer-style voice] RETUUUUUUUURNED!!

First, of all, an update on what’s been going on in my life, in chronological order!!

Right after my latest post (the totally random, unprepared one in which I wrote about friends just because), I had to study like a maniac for my final exams. And, man, was I unprepared. I was taking 5 subjects that left a horrible feeling within the vicinity of my kneecaps that I was only going to barely pass. Itupun if I was lucky. Why?

My Sciences of Qur’an lecturer is notorious for failing the majority of the students in each of the classes he taught. He’s anal about English (insyaAllah, no problem for me!) and anal about his students answering exam papers identical, word for word, from the book. In other words, you might as well have sedekah Al-Fatihah for me – I was dead even before sitting for the paper. My strength in any exam is to be able to goreng my answers sehingga ranggup, with half of the ingredients taken from the book, and the other half (when memory fails me, which I can always, always count on) improvised with a dash of creativity, a pinch of fiction, and a huge dollop of common sense. You see, my memory capacity is as limited as the classes available for COMM 1010 this semester, so there was no way I was going to score well for this paper.

For my Prophetic History class, I forgot (memory failure strikes again!) to send in an assignment on time, thus automatically losing 30 marks. I assumed I would FAIL this one no matter how hard I studied, but still, no use giving up already. Plus, studying the history of our prophet is absolutely interesting. Try reading the text book; glaring grammatical errors aside, it’s like reading an inspiring story book.

History was so boring that a certain friend of mine, who pointedly sat in the first row, slept in class almost every time. I might as well say this; if there’s one thing I don’t like, it’s a lecturer who comes to class with power point slides, sits down, and then just reads what’s written in the slides to the class. What are these lecturers getting paid for? You don’t need a PhD to mumble out words that students can already read for themselves! You don’t even need to pass kindergarten, for that matter! And since I already had a copy of all the power point slides, I might as well just stay in my room and get my laptop to read it out loud for me (and get a chuckle or two from the robotic intonation, as well). It’s a pity, because History can be interesting, especially when you read about the glorious ancient civilizations.

Finally, Reseach Methodology and Social Theory are two sociology subjects that are meant for Level 2 students. I was well aware that I was merely a level 1 student when I registered for those classes early last semester, but my options were basically non-options to me. Either I take those classes, or not take any soca classes at all for the semester, since the other classes were full to the brim. No way, José!

The lecturers I got for Research Methodology (3 of them, including the head of department) were all wonderful teachers. They were funny, they interacted with the class, and they were clearly passionate about their job. Unfortunately, the time wasn’t so wonderful – 5 to 6.30pm aka Peak Nap Time. This is when my attention, which starts to wane at precisely noon, has already abandoned me and is sleeping in Cayman Island, leaving my empty shell of a body defenseless from the attack of the daydreams. Plus the text book we had to read was as dry as my lips always are prior to the application of copious amounts of Vaseline. Or as dry as my gums and tongue get when I wake up from a deep nap and realise I’ve been sleeping with my mouth agape. Or as dry as…You get the gist.

As for Social Theory 1, there were no books to refer to at all. We had to write down every word the lecturer said in class, literally. It didn’t help that he’s got an extremely strange accent, causing me to burst into a fit of the giggles each time he pronounced ‘society’ as SOH-SAI-UH-TEE in that rasping, aged voice of his. Plus, upon rereading my notes after class, I came to realise that he had a tendency to repeat his points using as many different words that he could, and that one paragraph could have actually been whittled down to one sentence. The fact that the subject matter is dull doesn’t help, at all. It’s basically about ancient thinkers; what they said and thought about society. Some of the theories were moot, or ridiculous to the point that I wondered why their thoughts even became famous; prime example being this bloke Thomas Moore who declared that the ideal society is one that is built on the island of Amaurate. I kid you not.

So those were the 5 subjects that I was taking last semester. It was a wonder I have survived to tell you the story today. It’s also a wonder that I passed all the subjects, even Prophetic History. Needless to say, though, my pointer for that semester plunged into depths that had up to that time remained untouched. It jolted me awake, I tell you. All my life, I’ve been idly fluttering through near-escapes with narely a scratch, thanks to my lucky star. My careless attitude towards almost everything in life has exasperated many people, I know. But I’m almost 20, now, and the time for me to buck up and take proper responsibility of my life and future has been long overdue.

Ok, time to change the topic before I get all self-reflective and bore the heck out of you guys.

Throughout exam week last semester, studying in my room at night proved to be impossible. I had seven other roommates (plus one squatter), and three of them were fairly quiet. But when the other five, plus a couple of their friends from other rooms, hung out, I swear it was like all the animals from Zoo Negara had come together for a meet-and-greet ritual every night in my room. Now, I love my old roommates to bits, of course, but it really, really grated on my nerves, especially if they started convening in the tiny compartment I share with my roommate. I mean, how would you feel if you come back to your room, completely exhausted and missing your bed like mad, or wanting to get some studying done for a major exam the next day, only to find a bunch of girls shrieking and laughing at the top of their voices, and not even budging as you try to maneuver to your desk? A part of me thinks that was God’s way of punishing me, though, for being so loud and noisy with a bunch of my roommates during my short semester in Nilai a year ago. We were so inconsiderate to the other, quieter roommates back then. Sigh.

Which is the main reason why I was so ecstatic when I finally got a compartment all to myself this semester. Sure, in return I have to climb 60 steps to reach it, as opposed to zero, but it’s WORTH IT, I tell you. My other roommates (a mere two!) are really quiet and, so far, I’ve barely interacted with them, but I like to keep it that way. It’s like, when I get to my room, Alone Time has begun! Without having anyone to share my compartment with, I can decorate it as I like, there’s no pressure for me to interact with other people, I can do whatever I want in it without feeling self-conscious, I can control the light and fan switch according to my own whims and needs, and, most importantly, I no longer have to get dressed in the toilet. Weehee! :D The room has it’s downsides as well, like the fact that it’s so high up, or that the bed is located above the desk, without a stair for it in sight (thus requiring Olympic-feat climbing before dozing off every night), or that they replaced the venetian blinds that covered our windows with curtain railings, which I broke on the first night when climbing up my bed. But I’ve solved those problems simply by appreciating the exercise I get from climbing four floors up, and by pulling my mattress down to the ground. Heehee! As for the curtains... ah well, I'm four floors up and surrounded by female hostels, so who's going to see me?


As for the subjects I’m taking for these two months? Malaysian Society and Social Stratification. Pendek kata, I’m loving it like MAAAAAAAAAAADDDDD. Oh Sociology, how I love thee!

I count myself extremely lucky that I got the two subjects I wanted, because I know there were many students who had to travel all the way back to Terengganu or Sabah because they couldn't get any subjects at all after a fruitless week of trying to add them by meeting the lecturers personally. Classes are just too darn full. Kesian giler.

OKlah, that's all for now! I'm starving and I still haven't mandied yet. So long, everybody! :)


PS: CONGRATS to Kak Amnah and Yeng for their engagement yesterday! :D :D

PPS: A photo of my niece Umairah, as requested by Amierah: