Got back to Singapore on Sunday evening.

Given the flight cancellation, I thought British Airways would try to make it up. Instead, when I tried to check in, I was told the change in my ticket had not been completed. Erm... You don't say such things to anyone (customer, father, mother, friend, stranger etc) especially after a really lousy cancellation of flight and that the person had travelled a couple of hundred miles to get to Heathrow. No wonder I couldn't do an online check-in the night before. And 'because the flight was full', I was given one of those sandwiched seats in the middle row.

At the gate, I was told the 'upgraded' my seat. I was like... UPGRADE? To business class issit?

Erm... No... They upgraded me to an aisle seat.

Ok... Better than sitting in the middle... Until I saw who I was supposed to be sitting beside. A huge guy who looks like he needed 2 economy seats. And soon, I discovered that this huge guy had at least 1 extremely fuzzy arm, coz it was spilling over the arm rest and into my seat space. =_=

12.6 hours!! ROAR!!!

(Later, I saw a comment on my previous entry. Apparently, not everyone on the cancelled flight got to rest in proper accommodation. Some slept on benches. The flight was delayed for almost 20 hours! Imagine how terrible those folks felt?!)

If possible, I will not fly British Airways again. =_=
.............................................................

Once the plane touched down, it was back to clockwork Singapore.

I didn't have to queue for passport-stamping coz of the walk-through fingerprint machines. Buying duty-free was a breeze. As I was trying to get a trolley, my mother appeared just 2 metres away, on the other side of the glass wall, waving at me. My cases were already conveying on the belt. They looked pretty impatient. As if I was slow.

In around 20-30 minutes, I was in the car along the expressway, exclaiming at how familiar everything looked.

If Changi Airport is now World #3 Airport, I wonder what World #1, i.e. Incheon Airport in Seoul, is like!

I am not sure what's up with me, but I've been feeling really weird since my flight got cancelled on Wednesday.

Let's recap on what's happened.

Wed, 24 Jun 09

'Good Fren' rented a car so that I would not have to take National Express to Heathrow and that he could send me off. At around 3.30pm, we left Wolfson College and headed for Little Chef in Royston (a nearby town that was on the way to Heathrow) for some food. At around 6pm, we got to Heathrow. Check-in was easy because I was earlier. We then hung around and chatted.

At 8pm, we headed for Departures. As I saw people waving at one another, my heart started to chill and sink. I looked at 'Good Fren' and started to tear a little. As I made my way through the snaking queue, I kept turning around to check if 'Good Fren' was still there. When it was my turn to show my boarding pass, I couldn't hold back the flood of tears.

The reason why this farewell sucks so much is because it's gonna be the longest ever. Just a couple of months ago, we spent 4 weeks apart because of the Global Consulting Project. And now, the Individual Project is gonna separate us for 2 months. This would mean that, in total, we've spent 25% of the MBA apart. Absence is such a weird thing. So is Presence actually.

So, I cleared the checks and wondered around in the miserable shopping area. Called 'Good Fren' and started to cry again. Walked around more... then found a seat near the gate and waited... and waited... waited...

The BA11 flight was meant to leave by 9.35pm. And because of some delay earlier, boarding was late. After some time, we boarded... I struggled to stuff my handcarry in the overhead cabin a little, then strapped myself in the seat. Somehow... the plane did not move. I fiddled with the entertainment system and decided that I was gonna watch Gran Torino. Then the captain's voice flooded the cabin. Apparently, there was something wrong with the fuel valve and the engineers were fixing it. I started the movie.

30 minutes into the movie, the captain announced that the fault was still unresolved and they had to switch off the electricity to fix the fault. Soon after, the entertainment system stopped working, the emergency lights along the aisle came on and the usual lights were out. In total, we were in the cabin for at least 2 hours before the plane started to move. At that point, I must have fallen asleep, because I woke up when the plane started to accelerate really loudly for take-off.

I looked out of the window and watched the scenery rush by as the plane accelerated, and thought of 'Good Fren' in the little Wolfson College apartment all alone. Just then, the pilot stepped the brakes. The tyres screeched... and the plane came to a stop on the runway. I got worried. I looked around to check if the plane was on fire... Who knows? Maybe the fuel valve exploded during take-off?

Just then, the captain's flooded the cabin again. According to his dashboard, a cargo door was loosened. We had to go back to the berth. Many people were gumbling in the cabin. "Can you believe this?" exclaimed a lady behind me. I whipped out my mobile and called 'Good Fren'.

About 1.5 hours later, the situation has become rather surreal for me. 'Good Fren' checked online and found that delays for flights more than certain mileage could not last for more than 4 hours. The captain verified this by announcing that the flight was cancelled and that accommodation would be made, but if you would like to go home (in the UK), you could and just have to leave your contact number with one of the ground service staff after collecting your suitcase. We then waited somemore in the cabin.

Thu, 25 Jun 09

It was around 2am when we got off the plane at Terminal 5b and started to make our way to Terminal 5a. I called 'Good Fren' and we decided that he would come get me. We had to take the train to Terminal 5a, clear customs and collect our luggage as if we had just arrived in London, and wait for instructions from the BA ground service crew. The terminal was empty except for us. I was told later that we were the 'last flight'.

The baggage collection area was littered with people from my flight. Tired, unhappy and confused. Somehow, the staff, recognised only by their uniform, were talking to people randomly and individually. A unruly queue had formed to engage with one of the staff who looked like she was in-charge. Tempers started to fly.

Everyone was given a piece of paper stating that the flight was to be postponed to Thu, 25 Jun 09, 5pm and other admin details. I heard one of the uniforms telling a passenger that they were unable to secure accommodation for everyone, so those who just board this flight ought to return home (transport costs can be claimed online later) and come back again tomorrow for the replacement flight. Those who were on the flight before it landed at Heathrow would be provided with accommodation. I saw the looks on some youths who were most likely to be students on their way home to Singapore. They probably checked out of their college hostels. Where were they supposed to return to for the night?

I waited at the conveyor belt for my suitcases, only to realise after 2 rounds that perhaps someone had placed them on the floor on the other side. =_= After collecting my suitcases, I made my way through the unhappy crowd to get nearer to one of the uniforms. I wanted to change my flight. I couldn't take the 5pm flight on Thursday. It meant that my time in Singapore set aside for my assignments would be broken up and might affect their completion. I decided to stay on in Cambridge to finish them, and hopefully, I'll be able to get around the jet lag before my internship starts on next Wed, 1 Jul 09.

After some time, one of the uniforms announced that accommodation was available for all passengers, but because she did not have a loudhailer, most people couldn't hear her. I spoke with one of them and asked if I could change my flight. She pointed me to Zone E in the Arrival Hall. So I made my way out of the crazy mess in the Departure Hall.

And yes... I managed to change my flight to Saturday. I was quite relieved while I sat on an empty trolley along the pickup point and waited for 'Good Fren' in the cool London night. A long queue started to form alongside 2 huge tour buses. They were taking the BA11 passengers to their temporary accommodation... at Gatwick Airport.

It was extremely surreal when 'Good Fren' stopped and hopped out of the blue rented Ford. It felt like I was at Changi and he had come to pick me up! All those tears for nothing?! Or maybe... All those tears were for this bonus reunion?! We drove back to Cambridge. The sky was already lighting up in a pretty rosy hue. I was tired, but very very happy to see him and hold his hand.

We lugged everything back in the apartment. Called my mother, wrote a blog entry, and updated my Facebook status and Twitter.

I woke up in the afternoon. 'Good Fren' had gone off to return the car. I was lost for a moment. Wondering if it was all a dream. Realising that I had about 36 hours to finish 2 assignments, I was up and about with much gusto. Did the laundry, made lunch, unpacked a little...

When 'Good Fren' returned, he looked at me and started to poke my arm with his finger.

GF: *poke poke* I am testing if you are real. Because you are so energetic... doing so many things... Maybe, you are not real...

BM: Oh... Maybe BA11 really did take off, but was lost in a storm or something... That I am actually dead... But I don't know it either... I've come back to do whatever I can for you before I have to leave forever? Like the 49 days in Windstruck?

For a moment, I wondered about the possibility of what I was saying... because I did fall asleep for a moment while waiting in the plane. So the plane could have really taken off and the braking etc was just a convenient reason for me to convince 'Good Fren' to come pick me up.

=_=

..................................................

Very quickly, 2 days have passed and I have completed 1.75 assignments.

I can feel the reluctance building up again.

Like I said earlier, absence is a weird thing.
It's scary how one can grow so used to another.
I told 'Good Fren' that this must be the last time we are gonna be separated for so long. I dislike it. I kept trying to suppress that thought of inevitable separation in the end.

Presence is also a weird thing. I just like him next to me. We don't have to be doing/saying much. Just next to me will do.

Erm... After spending 4 hours sitting in the cabin of a British Airways' Boeing 747 parked at Heathrow, I got back in Cambridge at 5.30am this morning.

Engineering Fault #1: Fuel Valve
They spent at least 2.5 hours trying to fix it with all passengers onboard. =_=

Then just as the plane was accelerating for the take-off, the pilot stepped on the brakes, bringing the plane to a screeching halt. Apparently, one of the cargo doors came loose.

So, I've been on the road since 3.30pm yesterday... And I'm back in Cambridge at 5.30am. Super tiring day...

Maybe all that sobbing at the departure hall touched someone at the airport, who in turn decided that BM ought to spend a few more days with 'Good Fren'?!

As you know from the previous entry, that this is that part of the MBA where people venture off doing various different stuff.

I will be interning in Singapore, while 'Good Fren' will be shuttling to and fro Cambridge and Amsterdam.

Because I will be leaving Cambridge (erm... like today), the Nutella Gang tried to put together a surprise... in a rather awkward fashion.

A few days ago, Axel (Germany) called 'Good Fren' out of the blue. 'Good Fren' then told me that they had to meet in Wontak (South Korea)'s room to set up some LAN gaming thing for Counterstrike which they have been talking about on and off for a while.

But I suspected something anyway... Because 'Good Fren' left our apartment with neither his laptop nor the router. Though I is not gamer, I is not dumb hor!

Concurrently, I was on SKYPE with Wontak who didn't know about the Counterstrike arrangement. Hmmm... o_O

So when 'Good Fren' got back to the apartment with a weird grin on his face, I started to grill him.

BM: Baby! What did you do at Wontak's?
GF: Erm... Set up Counterstrike lah!
BM: Erm... You didn't bring your laptop. The router is still here. Why do you need to go to his room to set up Counterstrike??
GF: Coz we had to make sure that we all downloaded the same version... the GBP6 version...
BM: o_O Can't you do that over email or something? ARE YOU SURE?! ARE YOU LYING TO ME?!

Then I tried to hound Wontak over SKYPE, who avoided answering my questions. The next day, I hounded Axel, who also avoided answering my questions.

Hmmmmm... Super suspicious!!

Last night, they gathered in our apartment.


Axel came with a gift bag...


And these few fuzzy animals came in it...

I thought they were really cute...

Until Axel revealed that those were the 'fake' gifts?!
HUH?!!

The real gift was this T-Shirt!!


Erm... Take a closer look...

So, on that 'Counterstrike Set-Up Day, this was what they were up to!! Check out Wontak! He's licking his paw?!! O_o

I wonder what my mother would say if I alighted at Changi Airport wearing this T-Shirt?!

Thank you, guys!!!
By the time you are reading this, I'm probably somewhere in the air.

Just wanna let you know that... you have been... most... weird!!
See you in Singapore... soon... =))))

The MBA programme officially ends in Sep. The last couple of months is set aside for the Individual Project which can be an academic/research piece or an internship or both.

Meanwhile, because classes have ended and some people will start to leave Cambridge, on Wed, 10 Jun 09, the Director gave us a Farewell Session. Much like how the Welcome Session on the first day.


The difference is that we now know one another pretty well. Everyone knows everyone by first name.



Afterwards, we went to Christ's College for a garden party by the invitation of 2 rather senior classmates. =))

We had wine and chats. Such a lovely gesture by our classmates.

This is the Christ's College garden, packed with MBAs.

The event was lovely, except that it was marred by some competitive idiot who deliberately came up to me to say some nasty things while we were standing there enjoying the wine and lawn. =_=

Towards the end of the garden party, we got hungry. So, we started to round up people for dinner. We got Wontak (South Korea) to talk to the Little Seoul people... And we got the nice private space to ourselves.


Even Dr Runde joined us!

He was clearly relieved that his first batch of MBA students (he just took over the directorship in 2008) have completed classes. It must have been a tough year for him.


The last day of class took place on Fri, 12 Jun 09.


The last lecture was by Lord Stevenson and his friends from the Tate.


And the day ended with drinks (courtesy of Lord Stevenson) at Brown's.

It was the last session. Many many people were present. There was excessive chatting and urgent bidding of farewell.

Here we have Dr Runde's good/bad, i.e. Ken (Japan) and Darren (US). He will remember them for a long time to come. =))


MBA THOUGHTS & REVELATIONS

Through the MBA programme, I have been nursing some thoughts. This is probably a good time to put them in words.

(A) What does an MBA look like? (On the Individual)

Before I started on the MBA programme, I thought it would be full of super-smarts and aggressive alphas. By now, it is apparent that while there are some such stereotypes in the programme, there are also some who take it upon themselves to act like a stereotype, when they really are not made that way.

It can potentially get quite hilarious when observing someone trying to be 'MBA-like' as if that means anything to begin with. I remind myself that I've seen this happen before. There were perfectly decent people who heard that the fashion industry was a bitchy mess, and so decided to act that role to appear 'authentic' and to 'fit in'.

(B) We are the World! (On the Group)

Because the Cambridge MBA is culturally-diverse, differences along cultural fault lines are too apparent to ignore. Cliques are formed quickly and firmly. Beyond the polite hellos, it is sometimes difficult to break into these groups.

On a specific occasion, a clique of about 25 mainly from UK, US and Australia made a weekend trip to another British city. Judging from Facebook pictures, it was a rather well-planned trip by a native and the Anglo-Saxon group had a lot of well-intoxicated fun. But this visibility resulted in some sourness amongst the class, especially amongst those who thought they were minimally associated with some in the group.

Of course, the person who publicly pointed out the exclusivity of that group had to be a European. On the side, my German friend wondered aloud to me whether those from the EU ought to be starting something on their own. =))

Separately and subsequently, a couple of Mainland Chinese organised a karaoke session and invited only (south)East Asians and overseas East Asians (e.g. Canadian-born Chinese). However, the reaction to this party was rather different as those on the guest lists aren't really tied together by any sort of meaningful 'social/common glue', e.g. language or religion or amicable history etc. They just happen to look more or less similar. In the end, the invitation for the event was expanded to include classmates from outside of the original list. And perhaps so, the event did not result in any 'public outcry'.

I observed these incidents with much curiosity. 2 issues struck me hard.

(1) Overseas East Asians are on both lists. Regardless of maturity/age, they are generally friendly with everyone. More so than those who reside in their country of ethic origin. Perhaps this 'friendly with everyone' disposition is what they have acquired growing up with people who are not like themselves.

(2) Judging from the reaction of some in class, being part of the Anglo-Saxon group is cooler than not being part of it. I wonder this has to do with history, visible consumption power of those represented in class, 'real' GDP per capita, or it's just plain group/peer dynamics.

And all this time, other quiet and rather invisible groups, such as the Russians, the Indians etc, have been doing their own thing.

Upon such observations, I extrapolate the dynamics to the world politics level, shake my head and worry about the world's future incessantly.

(C) Growing Together (Just on us...)

Between 'Good Fren' and me, this has been the best experience of our 3.5-year relationship... yet. From inception to execution to completion. Our attempt at putting together our home some time ago comes quite close, but not as thorough as this experience.

Because we have gone through the same MBA programme, it may be tempting to think that we have been doing the same stuff twice over. Actually, we cannot over-emphasise the importance of ‘division of labour’. E.g. I cook, he washes. I organise the social gatherings, he collects the payment. The whole is greater than the sum of its parts. We joke about applying to the same company and offering ourselves as a ‘package’, because we can function extremely effectively as a team. We wonder whether any hiring person out there will recognise this odd yet precious potential.

Through this rather ‘safe’ experiment/experience, we have learnt even more about each other and ourselves. We can see and feel the changes, and we had each other to grab onto while the changes took place. Some more painfully, than others.
.....................................................

The MBA journey has almost ended... This is also the start of the next phase... It excites me to think about the possibilities amidst this pessimistic economic climate.

Compared to Singapore, the UK is really the land of dryness.
I'm not talking about humour, but humidity.

I thought I have acquired a really good habit since my teens, i.e. to moisturise after shower + apply sunblock thereafter. Even in Singapore. This is something I enjoy very much for a couple of minutes a day.

Somehow, this has become a chore in the UK, because no matter how much I moisturise, it doesn't seem to be working.

I got so sick of moisturising that I started to believe that apart from the bathroom, every house in such dry countries should have a 'moisture room', i.e. after the shower, one steps into a room or a life-size box with nozzles fixed vertically. One just stands in front of the nozzles and rotate oneself as the right of moisturiser, followed by sunblock, is emitted from the nozzles... like airbrushing.

But that's the not point of this entry.

The point of this entry lies in this picture.

You see the finger marks left in the moisturising cream?
It's a beautiful piece by 'Good Fren' and me.

Being the 'kiasu and anal-retentive moisturiser', I dig my fingers into the cream and skim around the walls of the plastic container. I usually moisturise twice in a row.

'Good Fren', on the other hand, is the 'reluctant moisturiser in denial'. Usually, after some nagging, he will dip his fat finger tips into the cream as if it was poisonous, lifting as little cream as possible, then rubs it onto his face/skin uber quickly to avoid experiencing its stickiness.

Hence, the weird finger marks in the cream as shown above.

We were up all night finishing our third last assignment. 'Good Fren' slept at around 4am, I slept at 7am. I thought we would have enough sleep to prepare us for the trip to Lord Stevenson's.

As with most bits of life, we miscalculated.

Wolfson College started to test its alarm system at 9am.
We hardly got any sleep till 10am.

At 11am, our alarm rang.
'Good Fren' went to school to hand in the assignments, while I attempted to clear my emails in a daze. I said to 'Good Fren',"Don't worry... The adrenaline will keep us awake till after the visit."

It was a nice little train ride to the British suburbs.
A little station which looked like it belonged in a story book. The station which Elizabeth Allen probably alighted at to get to Whyteleafe School. (A check online revealed that my hunch is probably spot on.)

And there he was... Lord Dennis Stevenson... Across the railway... Standing on the other platform... Dressed in a crisp dark blue linen shirt with his sleeves casually rolled up... And a pair of brick red bermudas... On his feet were a pair of worn-out Aladdin sandals. He was looking around for us and greeted us with a warm smile and handshake.

We couldn't believe he was actually there... that we got into his car... and that he started driving...

Erm... And when we got to his place... We couldn't believe that he made tea and coffee for us.

We met his wife, his gardener, 2 dogs and little black kitty which had recently adopted them and looked very much like a small Blinky. =)))

His place is made up a huddle of restored house and barn with extensions. There were many charming little corners, family pictures, many pieces of art, eclectic mix of old and new furniture, large airy spaces with high barn ceilings where he said an ox used to roam and a sculpture garden taking shape. In a special corner of the garden, he has had a sculpture of his wife made, and he says that if and when he's left behind one day, he would place a bench in that corner and talk to her... and she wouldn't be able to talk back. =)))

I was so in awe that I didn't think it was appropriate to take picture even though his place is really photogenic.

Our chat took place out in the open at one corner of a large wooden table. The sun kept the otherwise cloudy day warm. While the conversation went on, we had a visit from one of the doggies (I think he wanted my cookie) and the black cat (I couldn't stop myself from stroking it. =)))

We think that chat is one of the most invaluable experience this MBA has brought us. It was the perfect way to spend an afternoon in the British Summer. And we hope, one day, we will be able enough to be as generous with our time and energy to another.

Thank you, Sir!

We had a rather last-minute BBQ today in Woflson College, even though the weather forecast said,"Light Showers".


Axel, Sandra (Germany), 'Good Fren' and I (Singapore) prepared the basic stuff, and invited people to join us with their own BBQ and beverage selection.


Kristof (Belgium) preparing his lamb chops with much tenderness.


The BBQ grill is like a little social node. People gather around and chat incessantly.


FWAH! Look at what's on the grill!!

See the chicken wings? Those are our contribution.
Marinated with honey, oyster sauce, chardonnay, pepper and lots of chopped garlic for 24 hours.

Check out people enjoying the food!

Erik (US) devouring the chicken wing while his wife, Clarie looks on.

Deepankar (India) enjoyed the chicken wing too!


Wontak (South Korea) was so happy with steak. It was his breakfast!


Looks like a normal BBQ...

Until it started getting 'educational'...

First... Erik taught us how to check if the steak, i.e. done to different degrees.

That was kind of normal...

Somehow, they saw me squatting on the grass, got amazed at how long I could last in that position, and started to join in.

Here are Kristof and me.

In the end, everyone was trying to squat!!!

Germans squatting...

I wonder what onlookers would think!!
We were pushing one another in the squat to see who the most stable squatter was?!!

Veerle (Belgium) and Gijs (the Netherlands) joined in...

Even the serious Austrian, Walther, joined in!!!

If so many smart MBAs are doing it, squatting must be a good thing eh?! =)))

The view from the squat... is goooooooooood!!


For more information on squatting, please refer to this instructional video.


And before we knew it, we had been burning, eating, drinking and squatting for at least 4 hours.

So, we tidied up and left.

This is probably the last BBQ with them for a long time to come.
Perhaps the next time, we meet, everyone would have perfected their squat!

So... One member of the Nutella Gang was leaving Cambridge very early to go back to Turkey because of the impending birth of his daughter.

Quietly, the rest of us put together a surprise farewell gift.


We found a pic of the Nutella gang, and superimposed 'Nutella' all over it.


Then tied it to champagne and nutella.

Bora (Turkey) is meant to bring the smaller twin set back to Turkey, while we kept the larger set. And when his daughter arrives, we will pop the champagne simultaneously via SKYPE.

One night, after some heavy fun at Hughs Hall, Axel (German) and Wontak (South Korea) dragged the unsuspecting Bora to our flat and presented the gift to him.


He was visibly touched.


ORRRRRHHHH... Emotional moment!! =))


A couple of days ago... Bora's facebook status said,"Finally!!!", and we knew it she had arrived!

Today, the Nutella Gang gathered in our flat and popped the champagne with Bora in Turkey!


Bora with his twin bottle.


The internet is such an amazing invention!


Bora showed us around his place, and even pointed out the lovely pot of flowers which one of our classmates, Frederic (France), had sent to him.


And we got to see Bora's princess!

By now, most people know how I think babies are not that cute and that those who go 'oooh... aaahhh...' over them must be lying.

But Bora's Nevbahar is a really very good-looking baby. One can see the well-formed face with very 3-dimensional facial features.

Nevbahar means 'Spring' in Turkish.

Check out how tenderly the new daddy holds his princess...


And how proud he is...

We are very happy for you, Bora!!

I've received a complaint from a reader that my tweeter posts are longer than my blog posts. =)))

Oh come on... I'm merely trying to get used to all media. Greedy Greedy!

......................................................
I wanted to do up an entry on the nature and dynamics of complaints, but decided that the resources (time, energy, emotions etc) to be expended on this issue ought to be for now spent on my many essays which I have to complete before I head back to Singapore in 2 weeks. So that entry has to wait.

Concurrently, an online conversation with a long lost friend reminded me of a concept I had for a story. I was meant to develop it and weirdly... have been doing it... probably at some kind of unconcious level when I am sleeping for the past few days, because I wake up realising that another piece have been added to the story. That too I have to leave till the essays are over.


After so many episodes of exams/academic crunchtimes, I realise that I tend to get more creative during these times. Creative, not in terms of the subjects I am being examined for, but for something else totally unrelated. Usually, a few ideas would be developing in parallel.

While it will be great to be able to harvest these ideas in a more productive manner, such harvesting also inconveniences me at a time like this. Because real life demands institutionalised results from me. It's a game and I have to spend resources to understand the rules and hold up the answer which derives the maximum 'value' from the party.
.....................................................................

TRINITY FORMAL

Last week, a huge group from the class went to Trinity College for a formal. Supposedly the most aristocractic college in Cambridge because of royalty alumni.

Here you see the large group gathering outside the college grounds.


Making our way in...


The term 'networking' is often used in the MBA programme. There are other terms/concept which are used interchangedly, such as 'socialising' or the 30-sec elevator pitch etc.

But what does 'networking' actually mean?

Do the concepts of 'making friends' and 'networking' overlap?

I enjoy observing my classmates trying to interpret this 'must-do' concept of networking as if it was part of the core curriculum. Extroverts and Introverts alike... Some are obviously obsessed about the activity and the activity only.

I wonder how I should determine whether any networking attempt has been 'successful'. What are the measurements for successful networking?


Trying to get our act together to take a group pic.

While we were shuffling about, a classmate started to revive the previously online discussion about Harvard Business School's MBA Oath, and that we should start something similar. You know... like how doctors are to take the Hippocratic Oath.

(Ahhhh... I can see Angry Doc stirring in his seat in Singapore... dying to reply to this entry! =))

Regardless of how the nature of work for the two professions are different in terms to everyday definitions of 'being moral', my immediate thoughts were more focused on the practicality of an idea like that.

Doctors are licensed, MBAs are not.
Hence, the oath is not gonna work in any real and sustainable manner.

But I reserved my thoughts for my blog. I dislike sharing my thoughts in an environment/situation where the entirety of the former cannot be conveyed.

Anyway, back to Trinity College... This is the dining hall.


And the urban legend of old colleges and crappy food was proven right that evening.


Check out my 'sirloin steak', if that's what it really is...

In total, it's probably 6cm in width and 18cm in length and 1cm in thickness. Once you cut away the strip of fat (on the left), there is not much steak left.
And gosh... IT WAS TOUGH!

But we still tried our best to enjoy the experience because food is not the main play of a formal.


Afterwards, we went to the bar, had more drinks, 'networked', and played foosball.

...........................................................................

BRUNCH & BREAKING BORA'S BABY FUND

Bora brought his Baby Fund Savings Bank to our flat and got Axel to break it during brunch on Sunday. We have a video of the hilarious process, and I hope I will upload it soon.

The result: GBP317.

Quite a few classmates had or are having a baby during the MBA. Sometimes I forget that I am amongst some very ambitious people who understand the concept of limited mortal time. Always trying to get more out of the same resources.

Bora asked for some white envelopes. It has been a long time since I last saw anyone put money in an envelope. It's kind of nostalgic and reminds me of my childhood days.


Meanwhile, we also tried to finish up our Corporate Governance group work.

The line between social and work behaviour cuts very deeply for most people. Just imagine a 2x2 matrix. Someone whom you find to be extremely satisfying to hang out with at the pub may not be the best person to work with. Someone whom you think is so boring to hang out with may be one of the best team players in the world. And then you have people who are good/suck at both.

For the Corporate Governance group work, I deliberately asked the Nutella Gang because we have spent so much time hanging out together happily, that I thought we ought to take our relationship to another level. =)

SERVICE AT KING's COLLEGE CHAPEL

After our intensive and last brunch together as a full Nutella Gang, some of us headed to King's College Chapel for Sunday service. One of my to-dos before I leave Cambridge.

The service reminded me of St. Nicks. The many hours we spent together as a school praying and singing together. Though I am not religious, I enjoyed the process and can understand why some people do it regularly.


The King's choir boys, young and not-so-young, were so good. I can understand why some people like them so much... There was one who looked a little goth with at least one eye-brow piercing.

I asked Wontak if it's like a 'cool-sexy' thing to be a choir boy. Conceptually, it can be rather attractive, i.e. I'm so bad and anti-estab, but I have a vulnerable side which I do not share with humans. I only sucuumb to GOD. I do this by singing for HIM.

Not bad eh? I think I allowed my imagination to run a little too much during the service.

Long-haired men were discouraged.