The question I’ve been asked the most in the past four days is,
And the answer, for the most part, has been,
And for the most part, I meant it.
People kept asking if I was alright because I was deported from Kota Kinabalu on Thursday. I kept saying I was okay because, the way I saw it, I’d been training for the situation all weekend.
It started last Saturday. Four friends and I went to Mid Valley mega mall to catch the 8:30 PM showing of Blade Runner 2046. A little after 7PM, a fire started in the mall. The mall was shut down. No movie.
As someone who pretty much runs on routine and structure, the fire threw my plans out of whack. Suddenly, I was in a new reality where I wasn’t going to be seeing Blade Runner that night. The world does not owe me Blade Runner, I told myself. And I accepted the new reality.
Three days later, I went back to the cinema to get a refund on my tickets (I paid for the 5 tickets), and the cinema gave me a fucking voucher instead. I went there with the expectation of getting cash money, but ended up in a reality where I did not have cash money but a voucher instead. Does the cinema owe me cash money? Abso-fucking-lutely. Is it something worth losing my shit over? No.
So I took a deep breath and accepted my new reality.
Literally the next day, Wednesday, I ordered food on Foodpanda, paid with my card, and then fifteen minutes later, I get a text from them saying they cancelled my order because they couldn’t locate me. Obviously, that was bullshit. Fifteen minutes isn’t enough time to get to the restaurant, get my order, come to my place, and try to find me. I tried calling them, but I couldn’t find Foodpanda’s number on the website, and the only number I could find on the internet wasn’t working.
Eventually, I got someone on the online chat system who, after talking with for a while, agreed to give me a refund. However, that meant I still had to order food again (this time direct from Nandos) and wait. Admittedly, in this case, the difference between my expectations and reality was about 45 minutes to an hour.
I got my Nandos and had my dinner, eventually, but that hour-long wait was something I had to accept.
So when, the very next day, Thursday, I found myself sitting in the immigration office in Kota Kinabalu, I thought about everything that happened leading up to this, and realised, like my marathon training, this is something I’ve been practicing for. Or, more accurately, the lord has been training me for.
Little disappointments, one after the other, such that when the big disappointment came around, I could take it. Which is why when people asked,
I didn’t hesitate to answer,
Yes, because I’m prepared. Yes, because I’ve been training for this.
But then recently, I had this realisation like – Hold up! No one said training was over!
There’s no way to know for sure that what the universe has been training me for is this mild immigration disappointment. No way.
For all I know, KK is just another lap, another set, another lesson in a still on going training for something. What that “something” might be, I don’t know. I can’t imagine. And the mere thought of what it might be leaves me deeply anxious about my life at the moment. So if you were to ask me right now, if I’m alright, all I can say is,
But if I had to guess, I’d say no.
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