Let's start with my hostel first. This was my supposed room:
It has no ceiling fan and a wardrobe. But I managed to swap with a friend for a better room:
But it comes with a twist:
I'm bunking with another 16 roommates. And they only gave us a stupid bed and a wardrobe. We HAD to get our own shelves and tables. Hence the table on my bed.
See, the remaining empty rooms in this awesome teacher's training college are reserved for the later intakes.
So they crammed us in a former hostel warden's house that has been cleared out.
And yeah, that's the living room. I'm sleeping in a living room. For the next 600 days. And in IPTI GMT, that'll make about say, ETERNITY?
Now let me share with you the rules and regulations here. It has only been three days but it's already choking the life out of us.
- There's a pseudo assembly every Monday morning where a random student will be pre-chosen to read his/her prewritten speech for us to (not) listen to. And we have to sing patriotic songs to instill patriotism and nationalism in us so that we would be better government slaves I mean servants in the future.
- We have "senamrobik" every Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday morning to keep us healthy in body and mind and have the will to continue to just live. Which is also a ploy to get us to class half an hour earlier.
- Every Friday, the Muslims will have their religious class/'ceramah' and the non-Muslims are confined in a space to be moralised in a moral class/'ceramah' to produce teachers with higher morality. And perhaps mortality.
- Every Friday too, is our beloved weekly real assembly. And it starts at 2.45 p.m. and ends at 4.45 p.m. Swell, isn't it?!
- And the 'no jeans' rules has been implemented again, 'coz you know, wearing jeans signifies that you belong to a devil cult, and they don't want any of their teachers to be involved or have the slightest connection to this cult, do they?
It's been too long being here, and yet I haven't learned about the other dumb rules. I'll tell you when they start restricting breathing.
My parents had warned me, "Whatever you do, do not fight the system. Just bear with it." Being the good girl that I am, I haven't of course. Yet. But a couple of my classmates have already been in rows with the ever almighty security guards. They don't just guard this sacred, high moral conscious institute, but also find faults on students. One example is when my friend wanted to drive her car in, they won't let her in 'coz she doesn't have the grand IPTI car sticker. But they just won't believe that you have to enter the place first, before being able to get the sticker. But they're probably just insecure. And bitter.
As for my lecturers, they were just a bucket of joy. We'd be crazy not to get those who are lazy, pretentious, racist, forever PMSing and of course, who can barely speak the language of our course. We'd learn so much!
As a moral institution, it is their sole duty to suck out students' happiness, including their money. To make a 'pas keluar masuk' (yes, it's easier for them to stalk us) and 'kad nama bilik' (they just love us that much) costs RM10. And the 'pas keluar masuk' was only RM2 two years ago. There was also a hint for us to buy 'insurance' for the previous two years that we weren't here. And all these money goes to every intricate tilings of pillars and gate wall, the beautifully architected 'pondok', the grand guard/fault-finder house, an internet-less "student centre" and the massive hall for our pseudo assembly. And here we are, wishing we had a real room to ourselves.
Last, but of course not least (boy, there'll be more coming), trying to get an internet connection here is a vain act.
And that is why, I bleed my pockets to get me the Celcom Broadband so I can finally get connected to a much happier, happier world.
And also, so I can finally share with you my dismal life here and for you to be thankful that you never got to experience such morbidity in your tertiary academic level life.
And yes, I am utterly depressed, I'm out of sunshine, time actually stops here and I just need to vent it all out else I crack and jump off the balcony of my third floor house and die on the perfectly manicured lawn of the land of IPTI.