Oh Quagmire.

Time does not permit me to say much because if I revealed to you the situation where I am writing this you’d understand that it’s rather Unethical! I’m not rocking this city very well but I am learning how to one day at a time. Last night I stepped outside my office to be greeted by a black river of cars and motorcycles. The city plunges into dark within minutes. The roads are lighted by the grace of headlights of the thousand mechanical bees and buffaloes that trickles out of these granite and glass cages. Roughly three people die on the road each day. You do the math.

So far everyday is something new.

On Monday I met with an economist with all the juicy details of this little fledgling democracy.

On Tuesday I learned about our pathetic health care policies, best described as ensuring every citizen is given a cuddle by a public health official before you conk off to Nevereverland.

On Wednesday, I get a glimpse of what the view is like amongst the highest rungs on this society. Though the air is convoluted, it smells really nice.

On Thursday, a smelly old man offers me Korean health products.

On Friday I met with a host of physicists who if they’re not careful with their presumptions, may just make enemies of all economists, anthropologists and political scientists with their arrogance. I can tell you now that it would be a funny fight.

On Friday, I met with a host of politicians who, when tapped on their temples, rings like a hollow amphora. And just like an empty vessel, they’d gladly fill themselves with voices of other people who dare to call themselves an academic. Anyone whose theories they’re able to absorb and with such a limited capacity and limited patience, it’s enough to give you a rude shock into the sheer obscenities in parliament.

Why the heck am I majoring in political science again?
As one friend curtly pointed out, it’s just an incestuous circle anyways.

Last night they tell me the demonstrations have started. My heart squeezed a little glee. I’d imagine it’d smell like sweat. I wanted to see it. I’ve been too long sheltered inside small city-states to get excited of the promise of seeing blood spilling across our national monument: all for the escalating price of black gold.

What does development mean? What about equality and what of equity? What road maps should we follow?
Quagmire is a really funny word isn’t it?

But I was hungry and I was tired and I had a throbbing headache and carrying too many things and I didn’t feel like braving it through the traffic.

So, roadside kids flagged my taxi. Having bought my air-conditioned safety, I made my way home clutching my handbag and my laptop ever closer, feeling my way in the dark.