Technology Lent- A Technophile’s Daring Experiment

By Abeer Yusuf

Photos by Farah Zulkefly & various sources

16 Twitter mentions.

62 Facebook notifications.

6 friend requests.

15 event invites.

8 private messages.

9 days.

One test.

To say that I am connected with the times would be an understatement. If someone were to ask me how often I ‘Facebook’ or ‘Twitter’, the answer would follow a snort from some or the other friend of mine - I. Am. Always. Online. It’s not something I ever paid attention to, my virtual attachment to the Internet, but off late I began to realise a disturbing trend that had begun to take shape in both me and my immediate society. 

Virtual presence has become so important, taken over such a pertinent aspect of our lives, it seems absolutely blasphemous that one would consider it a luxury, and not a glaring necessity of our times. No one can get away with dismissing the Internet as just a fad; it has become an existence in which our presence is vital. 

Whereas once you could keep in touch through email and the phone, if you’re not on Facebook or Twitter 24-7, you pretty much miss out on some or the other ‘major’ news. There is today, a need to be connected with each other all the time. Getting away from the networks is akin to religiously following a television series, disappearing for a few days, and returning only to find that the entire plotline has changed shape. 

The same dilemma applies for technology. Photo credit: Mahoneyjoe.com

But that is only one of the many grouses that I maintain with the online world. The other involves the quicksilver vortex that is the addiction to this technology. Devices being continually introduced to aid this addiction don’t make life any easier (be it your new Android smartphone or Apple iPad), nor does the knowledge that free WiFi access is adding fuel to the fire. Too many times I have been in conversations with my friends over lunch where I find them periodically distracted by ‘pings’ and ‘whatsapps’ and whatnots. Frustrated beyond imagination is one way of putting what I feel - you are physically with me, talking to me, kindly pay attention to me! The other thing I don’t comprehend is how people need to update their virtual lives about their physical lives. Rather than telling me how awesome it is to see me, I go home to find that I’ve been tagged as the ‘splendid person I always love spending time with HOMG it was so awesome to see you again Abeer!’ This need to be in two worlds at the same time is one that, I feel will lead to plenty of problems in the future.

While I must address here that my addiction is different from the conventional Twitter/Facebook-user sense, it is an addiction nevertheless. I post endless news links on my Facebook page, update my status with disturbing frequency detailing minutely amusing co-incidences (I have a need to be funny, a need that has left me highly unpopular due to my apparent ‘lameness’) and post senseless updates about how satisfying a hot shower or a Cadbury bar is at the end of the day. While it could be worse- I could be the person who tweets her thoughts out virtually or updates followers constantly about her whereabouts or even be the person who details mundane activities about her life and love on Facebook- I fear the addict that I have become. It is a habit of mine to constantly go over to the Facebook page, only to see if the amber sign has flagged off, if even for one notification that has nothing to do with me. The moment I remove the page, I must put it back on, because it has become such a habit. When something remotely upsets me, I began mentally jotting ways in which I can cryptically address it on either Facebook or Twitter. If I don’t Facebook at least twice a day, I feel an uncontrollable desire to head back home and plop myself in front of my computer screen only to see how everyone else is living their lives on a busy Friday night. I have, scarily enough, begun spending time thinking about what my next Twitter update should be.¬¬

Lamebook ought to have been the real name of Facebook. Picture credit: Google Images

It was at this juncture that I decided I needed to get away from all sorts of technology. While the ubiquitous mobile phone was necessary to communicate with my parents and friends in Saigon, I decided that it was time that I went on a virtual cleansing trip. The trip to Ho Chi Minh offered me the opportunity to do just that. I decided I would see how long I could last before succumbing to the great tool that is Mark Zuckerbergs’ creation and also, just how others online would take my virtual death (and dearth of activity). I decided for that reason to try to limit as far as possible the number of people whom I told about my impending trip, only so that the lack of Facebook/Twitter activity would make them wonder where I was; I wanted to see how far they would go, or be concerned even, that possibly something was not right with me. 

It was with this medley of feelings that I plunged to my virtual death, my very own Technology Lent.

This post/experimentalso comes at a time when yet anothersocial networking platformhas launched- set to redefine social networking, many have claimed this will take over Facebook in a swipe with its easy-to-use interface and increased privacy controls. Once again, existing social media platforms are overtaken by vapid discussions raving about THE best technological invasion to preside the Internet, consuming individuals like a child takes to a new toy - all excited and unable to fault a single feature of it. In the time I was ‘dead’, I received countless invitations to Google+, which was “just the coolest thing ever- now we can group video chat!” and of course, the replacement for a leaky Facebook- “it’s got waaay better privacy control options”.

Dreams of a more topographical nature. Picture courtesy: Postsecret

The first few days were brilliant. Saigon completely usurped me. No actually, obligations to my position and Saigon completely usurped me. With so much to do, I barely had the time to be concerned about what was going on in the virtual world. 

I got my much needed respite from refreshing my Facebook page every 5 minutes waiting for an amber sign to flag and it was amazing to not be connected or to have to constantly keep up with e-etiquette by replying to posts and commenting endlessly. It was a huge relief to not have to post anything and worry about how many ‘liked’ it, how welcome or critical my statement about something profligate by the amount of comments or retweets it received, or if a photo I posted made anyone’s day. Within days however, as work piled on and hurdles began presenting themselves rather unsightly, I started missing my old venting outlet- the Internet. I began thinking again in 140 keystrokes- that if I were with access to Twitter, I’d have already written about 10-15 status updates cynically ruing my situation. Therein began agony at not being able to vent passive-aggressively. 

Going on this Lent also meant a huge sacrifice when it came to friends. One of my best friends lives in a country completely geographically removed from Asia- in the UK. And this is a best friend with whom I must communicate everyday- even if it is to talk about how I squished a snail unintentionally. While the friend did know I was going for a sojourn to Vietnam, he did not know how long for and wasn’t told about my imminent disappearing act. As situations in Vietnam got tedious for me, my one respite- my best friend, wasn’t there for me - all because I rely on technology to connect with him. I found myself unable to communicate with him or any of my other best friends because I’d have to employ the aid of email or Facebook or Twitter to get in touch with them, and having sworn off it, I was in a pickle. I got through my problems somehow (and barely), but I managed to. It was then too I realised just how involved my friends were in my life- I don’t go two days without updating them about what the scene in my life is like (in my defence, dramatic events take place with rapid succession in my life) which made me reflect; just how healthy was this? Rather than being able to update someone conventionally and tell them everything of substance that had taken place over time, I’d become so used to friends deducing conclusions from my blog, Twitter and Facebook page, that it never really gave me a chance to either take a breather, deal with my stuff on my own, nor give me the pleasure of informing/updating my friends on my own, without them having known 4 hours earlier thanks to Facebook. Of course, it also meant not being able to respond to serious incidences as well- during the course of the 10 day trip, one of my other best friends was almost evicted from her flat, causing me much panic about what was happening back home. 

Perhaps what helped in making the Lent easier on me was the fact that Facebook is blocked in Vietnam. Yes, fellow technophiles will probably gasp at this, but the communist state maintains a stronghold on its denizens by restricting this portal as a site that would otherwise allow for freedom of expression (proxy servers however have provided the sneaky way out for those who simply can’t do with it). That is perhaps also why the Vietnamese have this sustained feeling of community, though this is merely me venturing a guess. Time and again I noticed how close-knit and community-based the Vietnamese are, no doubt helped by the lack of technology infiltration. Should Facebook have been more readily accessible to the masses, perhaps the people wouldn’t come out to parks and squares in throngs and meet up as sociably as they presently do. I was also thankful for escape from the ‘Blackberry culture’ in Vietnam. The previous two study trip destinations that I’ve been on, namely Thailand and Indonesia, both have a prevailing Blackberry culture where the younger generations use the smartphone to ‘BBM’ (Blackberry Message) each other. This added to the hope that in a region where smartphones, Blackberries and WiFi access is the only way to go, there may be hope for Vietnam in holding off. 

Towards the end of the trip, I felt as though I had been happily rehabilitated from the Internet. In fact, I began contemplating going off Facebook permanently, a thought that uptil Vietnam, would have sent me into cold shivers. Not only that; we managed to attain a communication network that, though exclusive to those staying on one side of the hotel, worked like a charm- our bathrooms at the Mai Vy hotel were without ventilators, in place of which were windows with curtains. While this would alarm just about anyone as to how private the bathrooms really were (and indeed a Peeping Tom’s dream), the one positive that came out of it was that all the bathroom windows lead to a little abyss, hole-like tunnel through which sound travelled. Communication became effective two-fold, having discovered that almost anyone was just a bathroom call away (provided they were near or in the bathroom at the time), be it to rush them to get down to the lobby quickly or ask a question. I christened it the Windowbook, and it comes with a unique feature neither Facebook nor Google+ have- synchronised singing. As almost everyone would head to the bathroom the moment we got back home, we realised we could capitalise on the ‘X-factor’ that were our sweet bathroom singing nodes. Thus began an epic tale of singing Disney favourites like Mulan and Aladdin, also enjoying the likes of the Bee Gees, Beatles and ABBA. 

A blurry shot of the Windowbook and its inhabitants. Picture courtesy: Farah Z

As for me, all my plans of going off Facebook and Twitter were futile. I returned home to find myself inundated by private messages asking me where I had disappeared, what on Earth had happened to me and why I wasn’t responding to any messages. I thought I had been successfully rehabilitated but I wasn’t really- within two days, it was back to the daily grind of answering endless posts, liking every remotely funny update, listlessly staring all day at the LCD computer screen and waiting in vain for that addictive amber flag to glow. Sigh.

Author’s Note- I would like to take this opportunity to apologise to one person in particular, Ayesha, who got quite upset with my disappearing act. Never again.

Abeer Yusuf is currently midway through her fourth year in Honours, researching on South Asian Third Culture Kids, and would one day like to be credited with making the term ‘desi’ more commonplace in Malaysia.