Bath

They say that eyes are windows to a person's soul, and I believe that names function in a similar way. For those with an interest in etymology, or more specifically, toponomy, which is the study of place-names, names commonly offer an insight or a guide into understanding a place's identity and its history.

Bath is one of Britain's oldest cities with a history that spans before the 600BC, and yet strangely enough, our minds often relate the word “bath” with the image of the washing vessel – the bathub – rather than the city itself. This is what etymologist W.H. F. Nicholaisen describes as the associative level of meaning where words become names by association. Other levels of meaning include the lexical, where literal dictionary definition of names are concerned; and the onomastic, where denotative names are analysed on its own.

The earliest record of Bath was found in the atlas book Geography written by Greek geographer, Claudius Ptolemy, as a means to record all maps and coordinates that belonged to the Roman Empire. In it Bath was known as Aquae Calidae, which in Latin stood for 'hot waters', evidently apt for its location considering Bath was the only natural thermal spa present in Britain at the time. The decision to name a town based on its topographical feature made it easier for the Romans to recognise and distinguish different places, thus showing the importance of landscape in the naming process. Other examples of using landscapes as a denotative in names included towns like Winchester and Lincoln, then known as Venta and Lindum in Latin, which meant 'road' and 'pool' respectively. These Latin names are what scholars today refer to as simplex names because it contains a single element that was either habitative or topographical, (i.e. man-made or natural) which evidently during this period of colonial invasion, were mostly features in the landscape where the town was built on. As Aquae Calidae flourished under the Roman empire, more baths and temples came into existence, and the town was "rebranded" as Aquae Sulis. 

Sulis was a deity worshipped by the locals, and she was assimilated with the Roman’s goddess equivalent, Minerva, for both their healing and life-giving abilities. By incorporating the locals' goddess in the city’s new name, it highlighted the importance of religion during this time, and although the use of generic terms such as "aquae" (meaning "waters") continued, the new name was more meaningful and specific to the characteristics of the town. This name is categorised as a compound name because it includes two elements, namely the geological feature and a personal name to form a new word - Aquae Sulis, which roughly translates into The Waters of Sul. 

With religion playing a key role in forming a city's identity, not everyone was on board with having a pagan name represent a town especially with the influence of Christianity in the years after. The town was renamed again with more generic and non-religious elements, creating variations like Aquamania, Aquamann, and Hat Bathu that labelled the town as 'the place with hot waters'. It was not until the Battle of Deorham in 577AD did the town see the drastic development from 'Aquae-something' to a name more familiar to the modern language today - Bathum. A.D. Mills, a renowned scholar in Onomastics, explains in the Oxford Dictionary of English Place Names (2011) that Bathum first appeared in 796 AD, and later evolved into Bade in the Domesday Book in 1086. According to him, these new names were likely derived from the Old English term baeth, which was defined as 'at the bath'. It becomes apparent through this change that the new colonial entity of the Anglo-Saxons exerted their power on the local Celtic tribes by renouncing the use of Latin and implementing Old English as the main language used instead. Although Bathum, or Bade, retained the topographical meaning of the town, they are considered generic and simplex names that fail to take into account the history of the city. This process of renaming by a higher authority commodified the past and culture of the place, making the name almost too transparent with no room left for interpretation. As the name develops, we see that its topographical feature evolve into a habitative one, and it’s specificity simplified into a generic, single word. Fortunately, not all traces of a Roman Bath disappeared as Mills suggests that a neighbouring road called Akeman Street may still hold on to its Roman roots. The original name spelled as Accemannestrete is a compound name first coined in the 12th Century, consisting of Accemanne and strǣt, the latter which meant 'Roman road' in Old English. Mills does point out that the origin of Accemanne is disputed and uncertain but there are assumptions that it was derived from Acumanna, meaning 'Aquae-place', in reference to the earlier name of Aquae Sulis. 

Looking back at the changes the place-name has experienced, it is possible to conclude that the town's geological feature plays the most crucial aspect in terms of its naming process, seeing that "aqua" has been the denotative and recurring component of the name throughout the years and has remained unchanged despite the different colonial rulers and people that inhabit the location. 

Today, Bath is one of the most visited cities in Britain. With day-tourists totalling up to four million per year, coupled with its divine Roman and Georgian architecture as the main attraction, Bath is quickly becoming a globally-recognised city, and as a result, prompting many local businesses to take advantage of its name and rise in popularity. A prime example of this is the local art studio formerly known as Widcombe Studio that was renamed as the Bath Artists' Studio in May 2009. When asked about the decision behind the name-change, a spokesperson explained that it was done in recognition of the studio's contribution to the arts and culture scene in Bath. In essence, what began as a small shared workspace among local artists was now transformed into an art centre that reflected Bath's culture and heritage. The renaming process also coincided with the re-opening of their bigger studio in the heart of the city, firmly showing that by utilising the power of the city's name, the studio was able to rebrand in order to reach a wider audience, and establish itself as the city's official art centre.

On the other end of the spectrum, there were controversies about Bath being a name that was too ambiguous and common that it was causing problems for other businesses. The local newspaper, Bath Chronicle, published an article on the difficulties of having the name of the city synonymous to the common verb - bath, which according to the Oxford English Dictionary, is defined as 'a large container of water'. On a lexical level, the city of Bath has always bore some importance to the fact that the landscape carries a large body of water, and its literal meaning has always been the same, as evidence by the reappearance of "aqua" in its name. Even when we associate with the word bath (capitalised or not), the first image that comes to mind is the act of washing and cleaning, which is accurate, seeing that Bath began, and frankly still remains, as a city famous for its Roman baths.

Having said that, the locals do have a point. Does the ambiguity of a city's name actually hinder their prospects for tourism?  

Spokesperson David Plughaul believes so. He states that with the rise of technology in this digital age, many people are using the internet as a means to book their holiday, and yet with a simple Google search of the word "bath", the instant results that appear are of the generic bathtub rather than the Somersetian city. He further explains that due to the vagueness of the name, Bath is in fact losing around £50 million each year in its tourism sector, which could potentially be turned into profit if the city's name was "unambiguous and completely unique." Shop owner, Mrs Jane O'Vaflo, shares the same concern while holding the recent popularity of online retailing accountable for this problem.  Her business - Bath Taps - has been mistaken for selling taps for bathubs when her primary product is, in fact, sink taps. Having to redirect hundreds of phone calls on a daily basis is not only disruptive but also a wasteful use of resources, which again, has caused a loss in revenue as well. 

Judging from the locals' perspective, there is a mixed reaction towards the ambiguity. While most city names actively encourage tourism through its distinctiveness, it is undeniable that in the case of Bath, it has done the opposite. Although there are talks of renaming the city again, it is unfeasible to disregard the city's long history because of the internet’s inability to distinguish a location from a washing vessel. As far as toponomy is concerned, although Bath has become a generic name, and perhaps at first glance tourists would not know of the Roman’s significance in the city’s development, at least on a lexical level, the name still describes what the city is made of – baths.

Twenty and Living

I had an epiphany recently. Just a few days before my twentieth birthday. I did a lot of thinking on that day. So much so that I felt the need to map it out right now and share it with the internet.

I suppose two decades is nothing when you're 80 or a 100, but when you just hit the big two zero mark, you begin to reflect on all the days you can remember from the last twenty years and you realise so much has happened. So many memories. So many days of laughter. So many hours of crying. Just so many things occurred. And to think that those moments will only amount to a small, minuscule fraction of your entire life....I guess what I'm trying to say is that eventually, when you put things into perspective, nothing really matters.

Or maybe it does?

I'm about to get really personal here, so feel free to stop reading if you're not interested.

I've always been an uptight person. I like to have things organised, spices on the racks where they belong. It gets on my nerve if a single dish is left overnight in the sink. Yes, I am that person. And I've never been particularly proud of that aspect of me. I will overthink every situation. I'm an over-thinker. Even as I'm writing this, I'm wondering if you'll find me boring. And because of my anxious personality, I've missed out on many opportunities in life. The almost-relationships because I was scared of letting people close; the many broken friendships because I refused to be the first one to apologise, and many more if I tried to recall.

Already, I've regretted so much; there were so many things I wish I had done or hadn't done. If only I had a time machine, here's a list of things I would change starting from one to infinity.

And that made me ask the bigger question: do I still want to feel like this at 80? When the regrets could have very much multiplied and I would be at my death bed wishing I did this and that.

No. I wouldn't want that at all. And I think everyone can say the same. Sadly even though we can all agree to want a life with no regrets, most of us are still scared to really leave the comfort zone and venture into the unknown. And there really is nothing wrong with feeling afraid. It's a completely rational argument. There's nothing wrong with living a boring life. There's nothing wrong with not wanting to go to that MMA class you've been dying to join for ages because you're intimidated. There's nothing wrong with not wanting to try drugs because you don't want your parents to be disappointed in you. There's nothing wrong with avoiding the gym because you feel self-conscious around steroid-loaded men.

That was always how I would talk myself out of situations I didn't feel comfortable being in.

It's not a crime for wanting to feel safe and secure or for just being extremely ordinary. 

But then one day, comfort got boring.

I didn't enjoy staying in all the time. I didn't like being the same person I was three years ago. I was bored because nothing was changing in my life. I used to complain that my friends were changing without me and moan about it all the time, but then I never thought to ask myself, why am I not changing? What's so perfect about the current me that I should stay the exact same way all my life?

Right?

So I started taking risks. Small ones. Then slowly, I was learning to enjoy being in places I would never find myself in.

Like the MMA gym. Or the tattoo parlour.

The latter, especially, that if my parents found out I had stepped foot in, would immediately lose their shits and disown me.

But I walked in anyway. Knowing very well that all the trust my parents had of me was slowly shattering to bits. The needle jabbed and jabbed. And an hour later, I walked out with a mark on my side. An intricate flower that had no meaning, but the significance of the mark didn't lie in its design but rather the reason as to why I walked in there in the first place.

I walked in there not as an act of deviance. I walked in there because I wanted, for once in my life, to start living for myself and not for my parents or for whatever expectations I was being put against. I was walked in there because I was suffering.

To say that I left feeling cured would be a lie. But I did, however, feel stronger. More empowered. Proud. Fucking badass. And just this great sense of relief that I had done this.

For myself.

Months leading up to this great moment of realisation, I suffered from bulimia. And the worst part was that I knew how much it tormented me, yet I let it take over my life. For so long, I couldn't speak to anyone or seek for help because I was so ashamed that I would disappoint or even ruin the image people had of me. I didn't look like the person that would self-harm. I didn't look like someone who would let her insecurities get the better of her. I just didn't look like that and I believed that too.

But who would have thought, an attempt to get in better shape spiralled into an eating disorder and led me to a dark pit of despair and helplessness. Even an uptight 19-year old who looks like she has her life together, actually has nothing at all.

I told myself everyday that if this was truly rock bottom then I can only get better from there. Better days are ahead, and all that motivational jargon.

But it didn't get better because I wasn't doing anything about it. I wasn't changing my mindset. I was still stuck in my old habits of punishing myself if I ate just above my calorie limit.

It was dreadful. Waking up was a pain. Eating felt like breathing in hell. Mirrors only reflected flaws. And there were so many of them.

The problem I realised in that never-ending cycle was that, of course, I landed myself in such a tough place because I wanted to constantly fulfil everybody's expectations. I'm not just talking in terms of body-image, but everything else as well.

I wanted to be skinny because thin bitches were generally more well-liked. I wanted to be top of the class because it made my parents happy. I wanted to be _______ because it _________.

It was as though you could write whatever you want and I would make it happen because I wasn't satisfied with who I was at all.

This is not to say that everybody should go get themselves marked because it will magically solve all your insecurities. But my point is, if you've lived your life so far wishing you had done things differently, then maybe you need to reconsider your priorities because chances are, you're not putting yourself first. It's time to take matter into your own hands. Screw what people think of you. No more self-loathe.

No more regrets.

No more excuses.

No more taking the easy way out.

I'm leaving this as a note to myself. Don't ever look back and question yourself for the decisions you make. Don't look back with regret because you were trying so hard to be somebody else. It's your life now. Take a leap of faith. Live it the way you would live it.

Chicken and Muesli

The looking glass is staring at me and it's telling me that there's a girl.

One with bright, curious brown eyes, a button nose she hates and a pair of lips she loves. Her face gradually turns pink and warm. She knows what she's doing is wrong and unkind, yet her body won't listen and her heart won't forgive. She pulls her hair back in a ponytail and lowers her body forward with two fingers sticking down her throat. She jabs, she rubs, and she inhales the scent of the toilet because she's read somewhere that doing so will make it easier. She imagines. Rubbish. Faeces. Earthworms. Maggots. And all the things she fucking hates. People included. She thinks. About all the calories she's consumed just five minutes ago. The Oreos, four of them; the muesli, her mother's that she discreetly stole; the mango, the raspberries, the salad leaves, the chicken, the almonds.

She calculates in all mathematical functions. Plus, minus, multiply, divide, equals...a monster. One that can't control her cravings or her addiction. She tries harder, she goes deeper. Her bare skin rubbing the leaf-shaped flap of tissue that she now know is called the epiglottis that sits at the end of her tongue. Her nails are scratching against the back of her throat. It hurts, but she says the pain is only momentary. She prays that it will all be over soon; that if this time she can undo every bad thing she did, then she will never do it again. Never EVER. Because she knows that if she feeds it, this monster will grow out of her control. But today, just today, she will let it free. As long as it's undoing her mistakes, then maybe she will get to feel free too.

Her stomach grumbles. Loudly. But she isn't hungry. It's a sound she's familiar with. She can't describe how it feels to have food travelling backwards but she knows that she feels better when it does. Her reflection in the water turns murky and grey and all she recognises are the bits of chicken and muesli combined in a strange, dirty, dough-like mixture.

But it's not over yet. That was only a small fraction of what she ate. Tonight she promised herself that she would let it all out, so that once it does, her body will burn calories from lunch and breakfast. Only when there's nothing left to burn will she be happy.

Unfortunately, she's not one to break promises either.

She walks over to the sink half an hour later and runs the tap over her fingers, watching the residue tango with the water and swirl into the drain. She looks up at the looking glass and she sees a beautiful young lady. Pretty eyes, thick eyebrows and well-defined cheekbones that protrude. She tries to smile but she can't. A strand of her hair has fallen loose so she tucks it behind her ear. She stares. Blankly. Confused. Disappointed. All at the same time. She sighs.

Why do you do this to yourself, she wonders. And a hand comes slapping across her cheek.

Why do you, she asks again and another slap follows.

You are perfect, she says.

Yes, you are. Believe it. She repeats.

But after several attempts, she knows she doesn't mean it. And she laughs. Dryly. At the joke that she's grown to become.

The phone buzzes. The music stops. She must go now.

She rinses her mouth and wipes the guilt off her face. Closed eyes, deep breaths, in and out. Inhale. Exhale.

Open, says the looking glass.

And there it was, the familiar tear that runs down her left cheek.

She's not broken, only damaged. Just unhappy and trying to figure out why.

But there's always hope. That one day, she can fix things, and go back to the way she was. Because her life is perfect, and the mirror reminds her that.

The gushing of the water echoes in the bathroom, and with it, her sins flushed away for good. Except all that remains is the guilt she harbours. One that lives and feeds the caged-up monster that comes out to play in the brightest of days, and in the loneliest of nights.

Is This It?

I'm sure, at some point, we've all questioned whether what we do is something that is truly our calling. I've been thinking a lot lately, mostly because I still find myself questioning and to no avail. Is creative writing something I really am passionate about? But I can't write that well, so what's the point? What if I'm just wasting my time again?

I've come to the realisation that a lot of the big decisions I make in my life are just an excuse of running away. From people, feelings, all sorts. It sounds silly to speak of it now, but at the time, going abroad was a reason to stay away from things I wasn't ready to deal with. To be honest, I do plan of going somewhere else after my degree. Again, I think I'm running away but I'm not exactly sure why or what I'm so afraid of in my present reality.

I shared my concerns with my mom regarding my "true calling" and she gladly said that my parents would be happy to pay for another degree if I wanted to quit university and try again. As much as I appreciate their help financially, I don't want to put that burden on them. A lot of the times, I wallow in guilt because I don't feel like I've deserved what was and is given to me. My parents work hard so I don't have to suffer. Isn't that wrong and shouldn't it be the other way around?

I clearly remember when I submitted my UCAS application that my dad said to me that this step forward is a permanent one. 'You've made the bed so you lie in it' was the quote he used, and ever since I've been carrying that weight and thinking about every worst case scenario that could happen if this wasn't my true calling.

Three weeks into the new semester and I can safely say that my mind has been so intellectually challenged that I can feel my brain ache after a seminar. I'm reading books that have zero or a thousand meanings and quite frankly I don't enjoy it as well as my peers but I'm hanging in there. Luckily, I do have a scriptwriting module that allows me to create stories and write them despite how lame and corny they are. But hey, I figured what's really important on this journey isn't the degree or the grades (actually they do matter a lot), but it's the fact that I'm learning everyday. I find myself critiquing films all the time and I'm not the same person who buys into everything a movie does, which is great. And just today I thought maybe if the film industry is my calling instead.

Looking back now I realised I spend most of my time watching films and talking about them to people is my favourite thing to do ever. I stumbled on a Buzzfeed article about the best movies ever nominated for an Oscar and to my own surprise, I've actually seen most of them (thanks Dad for the extensive film exposure since I was five) so then maybe this is what I want.

Although knowing myself I will probably be in the industry for about two years and suddenly quit because I got bored. My attention span is of a two-year old's.

Anyway, this is seemingly useless to post on my blog but here's to all my fellow peers and friends and strangers who are currently feeling like a wet, lost puppy, you will get there eventually. Just keep walking (or swimming as Dory puts it) and a kind stranger will adopt you into their big fat hearts.

- K.W

Lost.

I tell myself to take it one sentence at a time but why is it so hard? Have I lost all inspiration to write, to create, to inspire? Slowly I’m beginning to lose my self-confidence through my writing. I haven’t been blogging since last November. Are my creative juices finally running out for good?

I feel unnecessary sometimes. I want to create things that can inspire people, things that say “hey listen up.”, but is this wish too unrealistic? I’m a big advocate of chasing dreams, no matter how big or small, and sometimes I wish I could listen to the self that’s encouraging and not the voice that’s doubting every action I take. I want to create change but how does one do that without being the change?

Up until very recently I’ve been cutting out bad energy from my life. Friends I no longer speak to, people I don’t want to know anymore and I have isolated myself in a circle of positivity. Initially it felt empowering. I was in control of what made me happy and I was aware of the things that didn’t. I made a conscious effort to improve myself. I went to the gym. I adopted a vegan lifestyle. I stopped looking in the mirror as often and I resisted urges to take tons of selfies just to justify my existence in our superficial world. I was a very happy person. But now I’ve hit a bump. And I know I will overcome it at some point, but right now I’m stuck.

After cutting out all the badness in my life, there was space for new things. I found joys in cooking and exercising, and I felt more fulfilled. But the thing is, in taking away certain things, my life feels empty. Emptiness isn’t necessarily a bad thing in my opinion. I see it as space that needs filling, a dent in the ground that doesn’t disrupt the perfect surface but a hole to plant a new seed. I’m just trying to figure out what this empty space needs. It’s taking a while and I’m running out of patience.

I want to change but I don’t know what I want to change anymore. A video of Obama talking to a group of interns inspired me to question what I want to do in my life. He said it wasn’t about who you wanted to be but rather what you wanted to accomplish. I used to know but now I don’t. I want to know what went wrong along the way and why I’m feeling uncertain. What is causing my lack of motivation these past few months? Have I been too obsessed in improving myself that I’m losing track of who I am?

In a lecture recently I learned that new beginnings are not only a time of exciting opportunities but it’s also a time of fear and anxiety. Perhaps, somewhere unconsciously, I’m scared of this new version of me that I’m desperately trying to be. What if I don’t like myself again? What if I improve when I’m actually hating myself more? Will I ever be able to like me a hundred percent? Sometimes I do wonder if Beyoncé wakes up and decides that she isn’t “feeling herself” and then goes back to bed.

It’s week 2 and I’ve skipped two lectures already. As I’m writing this, I’m wallowing in guilt. I didn’t go because I had no reason to. I have no fresh ideas for my script and I have given up on writing. I’m not good and I will never be good so what’s the point of even trying. I wish I could rewind and go back to the time where I made this stupid life-changing decision. I should have waited until I knew myself well enough. If only some stranger had stopped me on the streets and said “don’t do it” then I would have listened because that is how naïve I am.

My mom told me a few days ago that in the five weeks that I have spent back home she was very pleased to see who I have become. She was proud, which made me happy.

I say that because it seemed appropriate. Happiness is a social construct. We are told to feel happy when certain things happen. We are told to feel disappointed when life isn’t all cut out like our imagination. What if emotions are just feelings we’re taught to learn? What if they aren’t actually genuine? What if? What if? What if?

So many questions but only a lifelong of living to find the answers. I know I’m not living when I don’t care what those answers are. I know I’m just going about my day through habit when I’m not concerned about asking those questions.

I feel that living is active. So instead of thinking I should be doing. Maybe the cure to this state of confusion is to get out of my own head and live in this present world. What use is fantasising about a life I can’t have especially when I’m not doing anything to achieve it.

I’m going to stop writing now. I have ranted enough. It’s time to wake up.

Humanity

Isn't it heartbreaking that our world only unites when something atrocious happens? What about the quiet days where no shots were fired, the days where no bombs were set off, and the days where innocent lives still lived?

What were we doing then?

"United as one people"?                  Hah. Piss off.

We were judging, stereotyping, accusing, insulting, bullying, dividing
the people whose colour were different to our own
whose belief were in a different God.

And what different God?
When all along preachers sang the same song
in a different tune
at a different place.

Why only when lives are lost that we suddenly come together and claim that we want the same thing that is peace?

Especially when on good days we speak of everything else but that.

Why do we only utilise the word peace when guns are firing and bombs are ticking?

Why do we only speak of equality when injustice takes over?

Why do we only condemn weaponry when we become targets of mass murder?

This is our fault.
You and me
Our wrongdoings that cost us the
Lost lives, lost homes, lost families, lost children, and lost hope

My BBC Work Experience

Right, this post has been a little late since I ended my work experience last Friday, and the reason I've been contemplating about blogging this is because I feel like no one would care or even bother to read about the things I did in the three weeks that I spent working for the BBC? Honestly, I have no idea how to go about writing this without boring anyone. The original plan I had was to make a video diary every night and post that instead. I did keep it up though but unfortunately (or fortunately should I say) my video editing skills are shite and I'm sure no one wants to hear me talk for over an hour.

So let's start from the very beginning.

In my previous blogposts, I've mentioned how excited I was to have received a call from the BBC and how it felt like a silver lining because I was in a terrible state at the time. So on my first day, as expected of anyone in my position, I was so nervous that I kept waking up every hour in the night and I was practically sweating in my sleep. It felt like getting ready for the first day of school except this time it was very different because the BBC has always been a huge deal for me since I was a teenager and getting to do it in reality felt all too surreal to me. It still didn't quite sink in that I was working for them even after I entered the building. The first thought that entered my head when I walked in was that everyone looked really creative. Like every person who walked in that door had this confident, outspoken aura about them and they were each individually unique in some way. And looking at them I felt intimidated immediately because I am obviously worlds apart from them. At least in terms of first impressions, I don't think I radiate confidence as well as they do. So anyway, after I was given my entry pass, I was taken to the BBC Learning department where I would be working for the three weeks to come.

The reason why not many people has heard of BBC Learning is because it is considered a "silent brand" in the sense where they do more community work rather than creating content for TV. And why didn't I apply for the TV one? Well frankly it was because I figured it would be easier for me to get in and plus I didn't think I was qualified for the TV departments when I was applying. So BBC Learning, as the title entails, revolves around education, and helping audiences learn through different mediums. When I got the call, I was told I wasn't going to be creating content like I hoped to but instead it would involve a lot of interacting with the public and so on.

I was glad to do that too quite frankly because if I did want to create content for TV in the future, I guess I need to know what the audience wants to see. Plus, to be able to represent the BBC was such an honour for me anyway.

From past experiences the first day at a new job will always be slightly uninteresting because there will be nothing much or immediate to do, but surprisingly and very luckily, I was given the job of writing short biographies on my first day. (Yay, more writing!! As if I'm not sick of it already) ((Haha, just kidding)) But yes, I was told to provide a short write-up of a list of guests that were attending the Q&A sessions we were holding during the event. And it had DJs, singers, sports presenters and entrepreneurs, all of which I have never heard of. But that was okay, because I didn't mind looking up strangers and reading their entire life story, like I don't do that on a daily basis too haha.

Also, on a side note, having been a fan of talk shows, I always wondered how on earth do they manage to know so much about every single person that comes onto their shows. It wasn't a burning question but I've been under the impression that all these talk show hosts have genuinely seen every film ever made and followed every celebrity on Twitter but it was only when I was researching did I realise that they have a team of researchers to dig up information for them. Hah, the more I know.

Okay back to the researching, I must say that I enjoyed this task quite a bit because I am a total pro at it but it was still a little challenging because most of the guests didn't have a Wikipedia page so I had to be looking at their Facebook and Twitter to source facts about them. I even watched this one guy's reality TV series to know more about him. ( I went a little overboard with that lol). Thankfully, this task more or less occupied me for the entire first week.

As exciting as that sounds, the continuity of work kind of ended there. Everything else I did after the first week wasn't as important or "cool" to brag about but again, I really did not mind at all. I read in the orientation pack that I should be prepared to be bored because not always will I get work to do. With our project it wasn't the case of not having enough work to do but instead it was because everyone was super busy in the lead-up to the event and no one really had the time to sit down and explain a new task for me and I totally understand that. I was a little disappointed at first but then I started approaching people and asking them if they needed an extra pair of hands which definitely helped because A, I was no longer sitting in boredom and B, I got to speak to more people. See, this was the issue I had from the very beginning. I know that my social skills are crap around new people and that needed to change ASAP. It took a bit of courage at first, but I felt more comfortable around the people I was working with gradually as time passed.

The second thing I had to do was rather interesting and I'm sure most teenagers my age would enjoy doing but I was just completely thrown out of my element, and that is looking for DJs to play at our event. I don't listen to Radio 1Xtra so I have no idea what sort of music they play but I tried so hard to look like I knew what I was up to. I basically spent a day on SoundCloud and Twitter looking for undiscovered DJs from the north and believe me, my ears did not enjoy all that house music. But thankfully, one of them was called to join us at the event. You're welcome, mister.

This is completely off topic but I feel is relevant to what I did during this work experience. After I was done with my list of DJs, I literally had nothing to do. Like I just sat at my laptop and stared at the screen for about a good twenty minutes before I decided to look up something that's been bothering me for ages now. I went into a serious research to find out whether Tupac was still alive. Lol. I know it sounds dumb, but you can imagine how much I hate being bored so I had to.

Luckily, the production coordinator started to give me small tasks to do like collecting stuff from the printer, making signs, sorting out stationery etc. I must say though, doing all that is so much better than reading on Tupac's family tree and fyi, it's complicated as hell. And I also spent about two days laminating hundreds of signs that I made for the event. Prior to this, I had no clue how a laminating machine worked but I can confidently say that I'm a total expert now.

The overall experience up till then was incredibly diverse and I didn't realise it until the event itself. Initially, I presumed everyone who had a chance at the work experience would get the opportunity to participate at an event like I did. But it was only until I spoke to more people did I realise my work experience was truly very different from what other people had. From making coffee to printing and to researching, I caught a glimpse of several aspects of the department whereas some might only be typing away at their laptops for their entire work experience.

Finally I'm getting to the point of what I really took home from this experience. Most of the people closest to me know that I have a slight phobia of speaking to white people, I'm sure it's all just me exaggerating things in my head but nevertheless it's a problem. It's such an irony as well considering my own father is English. I feel like growing up in an Asian community, white supremacy has affected me in certain ways and because of that I always felt a little inferior to them. And since a young age, I was never confident with speaking to older people either. So know that if you're older than me and I'm quiet around you, it's most likely because I'm intimidated by your life experience. (Yes I have a lot issues) Especially at my last job, I was only seventeen and obviously everyone had to be at least five years older or old enough to be my parent. Even in that job, there were multiple occasions where I felt like my opinion didn't matter because of my age and how inexperienced I was. If I didn't sound intelligent enough, people would look at me weirdly like I don't know what I'm talking about even if it was a legitimate concern. When I agreed to this work experience, I knew I would land myself in similar situations, and because of that I became hyper-aware of the things I said and the interactions I had. For example, if a conversation wasn't going well, I would blame it on my inability to socialise and if no one spoke to me for the whole day, it was because I never made an attempt to speak to anyone. (It sounds lame but I have insecurities like every other human being, except it was never with the way I look, but rather with who I am inside) This simply couldn't go on. I can't walk into the BBC, spend three weeks there and not leave an impression. I actually laughed when in the orientation pack it said to "make the team miss you when you leave". I'm not capable of making people miss my existence because I've always been known as the "invisible" friend in the group. But then there was this one night when it occurred to me that I shouldn't be so hard on myself. (YES, she finally stops dwelling in sickening self-pity) The reason being is that I'm only eighteen and I haven't lived long enough to have funny stories to tell during lunch break. The people I've worked with so far are older and therefore will have more experiences to share. By the time I reach twenty-five, hopefully I, too, would have interesting episodes to share. Right now, I'm perfectly content with listening and laughing along.

On that note of feeling invisible, I also figured that there are more ways to be noticed than to just be funny. Being talkative in a crowd is something I'm not good at but on the other hand, I'm good at being honest about shit because that's just the way I am. I found it funny that some of my friends couldn't appreciate that trait about me and saw it as a flaw whereas while working at the BBC someone pointed it out and liked that about me, which was a whole new discovery for me. And another thing I realised that, in any work environment, be it an ordinary sales office or Facebook, if you're an intern or in a "low" position, you should say yes to everything and try to help out as much as you can, even with the tiniest things because people notice that. It's when you least expect it that people are watching and listening. Now that I think back, a lot of the things I got to do was because I said yes to everything that was asked of me and tried my best at them and it feels damn good to be appreciated even if it was just lifting boxes and laminating "Staff Only" signs.

The third week flew by the quickest because we spent the four days in Bradford for the event. I honestly felt rather grown-up when I entered my hotel room. The first thing I thought of was my dad and if he felt the same whenever he went on business trips. I've never travelled on my own before so this was all very new to me but what an exciting experience it turned out to be. Throughout the three days, I sat through around ten workshops and although I wasn't there as a participant, I got to benefit a lot from it. More than anything, I met great people and these were the people that could potentially help me in the future. Networking, I've realised, is so important in any industry because we all know the sad truth that rubbing shoulders with the correct people is partially the key to a successful career. And I think this is why I'm so proud of myself. I could only be making tea for three weeks and still be content because I manage to get my foot in the door of the BBC. I was there, in the moment, and what I experienced was something I couldn't get out of a university lecture. To some people this may not seem like a big deal and all that I've written could be a load of rubbish but this, this is important to me because it's going to change my future completely. Having the BBC on my CV is opening so many more doors for me and it's something people cannot ignore.

I was a girl from Malaysia that casually said that I wanted to work for them because it was the only broadcast company I knew at the age of thirteen. Five years later, here I am blogging about it. It doesn't matter if I wasn't paid nor was it a permanent job but it's good enough because it's the perfect stepping stone to many more things in the years to come.

When the event ended and I was on my way home, I felt this enormous sense of gratitude for my parents mostly. I wouldn't even be here if my parents hadn't worked so hard to give me the life I have. Many people thanked me for helping out but frankly, I should be the one thanking them for even giving me the chance to do this. My whole summer break was filled with rejection by so many places when all I wanted was a simple part-time job. Thanks for turning me down though, because it gave me this amazing opportunity. ((Screw y'all either way))

This is one long post that I've done and I shall stop now. The links to my video diaries will be posted up somewhere soon but for now here are some pictures.

I sent this to my mom when I got into my room, to which she replied "Don't eat too much". Haha, oh mom.

The i woke up like dis selfie. hashtag flawless. Lol I was actually super late that morning but still had time to take pictures. oh kimmy.... tsk tsk 

One of the workshops - Learning how to make beats for radio

This pic just looked dope 

One of the Q&As - Cast of Humans

Couldn't get a full group picture or selfies with everyone :( Oh well. 

You could probably tell by now that I loved every minute of this experience and wouldn't actually mind dropping out of uni to do this. (I lie, too much money has gone into getting a degree so maybe after uni) But it was fun, amazing, and definitely something I can tick off the bucket list.

SNL, you're next.