In defence of mundanity

When we narrate our biographies, we normally talk of milestones - the first, the best, the most exciting, or in Lesther’s case, the most controversial events come to mind. As if making a resume of social life, we rule out what’s mundane and highlight what makes us special. We tend to forget what consists the bulk of our existence, or at least my existence, are things I routinely do which makes me, me.

This brings me to Zizek’s reflection – “Perhaps the best way of encapsulating the gist of an epoch is to focus not on the explicit features that define its social and ideological edifices but on the disavowed ghosts that haunt it.” (Zizek 2000) This post is not an inventory of loose ends from yesteryears, though recently, certain situations forced me to tighten those loose ends.

It’s about mundane ghosts – old habits that I thought were territorially bound, but apparently not. I guess one indicator that I’m fully settled here is that my old habits started to kick in already. I oversleep, binge, shop (but now, within reason), print on photopaper for fun, compulsively drink coffee, hangout and talk about the strangest things to people I haven’t known for more than a month without being concerned about time. In a way, Zizek is right. The gist of my existence is not really defined by explicit changes, but more of the consistency of the ghosts or habits I unexpectedly maintain wherever I go.

What this post is REALLY about

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Slavoj Zizek. The Fragile Absolute, London: Verso Books 2000

Person to notify in case of emergency

My floor tutor, Helal, was going through my registration details for the Hall database. He was taken aback when he saw me robotically type my contact information and medical history and said “Wow, you’re too quick for this machine.” But my freak show came to a halt when I reached the field person to notify in case of emergency. In Manila, it has always been Ef. When I was in DC, it was my aunt. But here, I don’t know who that person is. Who is the first person that should care in the event I get sick, arrested, mugged or more appropriately, when I get hit by a double-decker when crossing the street?

It has been a month since I started living alone. I have no relatives in England, social circles were reduced to tabula rasa, and home is fifteen hours and £400 away. The only existing support system I have is an HSBC credit card that gets declined all the time because they have a different way of swiping credit cards here. Though I have met a couple of Filipinos who can be coerced to rice-binge in Chinatown, it just hit me how precarious it is to be in a city where no one is obliged to care. This sounds dramatic, but it’s like living in home for the aged, where biological maintenance is paid for, but emotional security is at the mercy of family and friends’ schedule as to when they can visit (or in my case, email).

At this point, the makeshift mechanism I can think of is not to get sick, arrested or mugged, and look both ways before crossing the street. That should make the detail person to notify in case of emergency less relevant.

Sharing photos from farewell parties. In the event I get sick, arrested, mugged and run over by a bus, you guys are obliged to care.

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