It's nice to be part of it too

So I spent the whole day along the banks of the river Cam just in front of Trinity College's Wren Library. The sunny weather was just to gorgeous to be spent indoors and the place was absolutely beautiful. The library overshadows the green lawns which border the river as it takes a bend beneath two willow trees. I like it there.



There's a bench which I've already claimed as my own after spending hours on it writing up my coursework. From it, I can see the hillarious antics of novice punters tackling one of the hardest bends of the river. More so because the furthest edge of the riverbed isn't covered by gravel resulting in a lot of stranded poles.


~


So I struck up a lively conversation with an elderly lady sitting next to me. I like talking to the elderly. They have such a jaded view of the world - one that comes from wisdom and experience after having lived for so long. We both shared the same love for the river - for the reassuring sound of the pole striking the gravel. And after having talked for hours about family, punting and life in general, she said:

"It's amusing to see the world go by, it's nice to be part of it too."

and the world suddenly seemed so different to me.

~

I think people are getting more spoilt by the generation. In Hong Kong, I witnessed a maid carrying a student's bag in one hand while holding up an umbrella for her royal highness in the other in order to shade her pale skin from the sun. And back in my time, my parents couldn't afford to fly with me to England. Back in my time, they couldn't drive up from London to Cambridge. Back in my time, they couldn't help me unpack and decorate my room, sort out bank account applications for me or buy groceries for me. It's quite clear what the world is coming to and it doesn't look pretty.

Term has begun

You know term is about to start when you see:

1. Scholars heaving bulky rucksacks on their shoulders and dragging large suitcases through the gravel to their rooms with their Herculanean effort etched on their faces
2. Familiar faces on the narrow streets of Cambridge and you're suddenly overwhelmed by hugs and kisses as well as besieged by recollections of Summer escapades
3. Friends unloading carts laden with big boxes of their possessions as you immediately run to help them.

~

So I've got a new room this year. It's not as big as my previous room last year and not as well furnished. In fact, it's over-furnished with chairs (which I really don't need considering the lack of space) and under-furnished with electrical sockets (which I desperately need). Other than that however, I am quite pleased with my choice this year and here's why:



1. My room has a lovely tall window overlooking the Typewriter a.k.a. the Lasdun Building (which I think is definitely in the wrong place and should be on a beach somewhere facing the sea). The window is framed by green creepers (for the time being) with the solitary leaf being blown in by the wind to further carpet my already-carpeted floor. It's so romantic. I can't wait for Autumn when the leaves will turn a brilliant shade of red, orange and gold and my room will be ablaze with a barrage of fiery colours.


2. I'm very proud of my shelves. My previous room was not furnished with any and I was in desperate need of them. I've made full use of them now as you can see with books I've yet to read and little mementos I've gathered here and there from my travels. If only it had a glass cover, everything would be perfect. But as it is, I'm very happy with it.

~

I know I've said it before but I absolutely love the marketplace. My Sunday afternoons are almost always spent exploring the marketplace with its stalls of arts and crafts. You can find absolutely anything there from fresh produce to clothes to incense to pottery to paintings. Everything on display is so interestingly beautiful. If only I had more than £5 in my bank account.

~

I realize I've been frequenting King's Bridge ever since I got back. There's something about sitting on its thick cool walls and watching the punts pass underneath. As if they could carry my overflowing thoughts away with them. As if the river could provide me with a sense of comfort by its gentle sway.

You can't go back

You've changed so much.

We were the best of best friends. We'd play house on the school grounds every lunch break. We'd leave the house in the mornings and work the afternoons before coming back to the house for a nice quiet dinner together. We'd sleep in the same room although we never had any kids. I still wonder why. She was pretty and sweet and we were best friends. That was all I knew. And I was happy.

You've changed too.

With a smart tap of her thumb, she flicks the cigarette between her second and third fingers. And as she exhales the foul smoke, the unkempt locks of her bleached hair falls down around her shoulders.

Our conversation is shallow and meaningless. Like the ash which falls from her cigarette only to get lost in the sudden gusts of wind. Insignificant.

I was aching to hold her in my arms. But to do so would be to acknowledge the fact I already know so well. And yet, am trying so hard to deny.

Her boyfriend appears at her door from within the house. He wraps his arms around her fleshy waist and frenches her in front of me. I look away. Not out of disgust but out of a lack of anything else to do.

When they're done, I reach out my hand to shake theirs. I pause a little longer over hers, as if it could give us back the time that was stolen from us. I was disappointed.

I guess we've all changed.

I'd cry if I could but nothing comes. Not even a sob. I guess deep down inside, I was expecting it.

I wonder what happened to all the dreams we had? The hopes and dreams we shared. Where did they die and how did they die along the way?

All that is left now is a framed class photograph taken more than a decade ago. And this is how I will always remember her. Her warm brown hair tied behind her back as she sits so ever gracefully with her legs pressed together and slanted at an angle. As she sits, with her slender hands on her lap, smiling defiantly against the very essence of time that would change us forever.

It just shows. You can't go back. It won't be the same.

Melanie was right.

Of journeys and sojourns

And now that I'm back, I realize I can finally breathe easily again. I have a feeling I'll be getting my first peaceful night's sleep tonight since a month ago. Despite the wet and cold welcome, it's good to be back again. And now, I can finally breathe easily again.

~

I've flown a total of 18 hours: Kuala Lumpur to Bangkok to Frankfurt to London. If that wasn't hell, I don't know what is. Never ever fly Lufthansa. With little space, uncomfortable seats, no personal screen and bad entertainment, its aircrafts are the worst. So, unless I'm flying First or Business Class, there's absolutely no way I'm braving the journey to Malaysia. And since that's financially impossible, I guess I won't be seeing the Muddy Estuary anytime soon.

~

I finally bought the Swatch watch I've been eyeing for more than three years. It's automatic - isn't battery-operated. Aside from its transparent display of sophistication with its miniscule gears rotating and a small spoked-wheel acting as a pendulum, I simply love its representation of time: its never-ending ticking. Even when you pull out the stopper to adjust the time, it doesn't stop. Does time really stop for us to adjust our watches? I wonder if it occured to anyone 'I've wasted 18 hours of my life doing absolutely nothing when I could be out there making a difference.'

~

Night flights are so enchanting. The inky blackness of night blots out all other details of disinterest, leaving behind an etch of the city outlined by dazzling lights. The layout of the city becomes more vivid with this contrast of light and darkness. And if you're flying just long enough, the golden chariot of the sun rides the sweet bosom of the sky, unbridled by clouds - strong and mighty in all its splendour.

~

It's surprising how many interesting people you meet on your journeys. On the flight, I was sitting next to a tall pretty German girl a year younger than I who had just spent four weeks teaching English in Myanmar. I couldn't believe the coincidence as we shared similar experiences with each other - e.g. the hillarious banana dance - and give each other suggestions and advice. She's given me the necessary contacts should I want to teach English in Myanmar next year. That definitely kept the insanity at bay.

Also met an old Hong Kong lady who was asking for directions - she must've thought I was from Hong Kong with my dyed hair and pierced ear. Thank God for six weeks in Hong Kong. Although I couldn't follow her fast speech (I had to ask her to repeat herself three times), I got the gist of it and gave her directions. Surprise, surprise! She was also heading to Cambridge.

~

Aside from the usual going out and in, there's nothing interesting to report of my sojourn in Malaysia other than my birthday gifts from my parents. I usually tell people not to buy gifts for me because no one ever gets my taste. And so, instead of seeming ungrateful by not using or wearing the gifts I get, I just tell them not to bother.

This year however, mum bought me a white gold chain on which a key was strung. Apparently, it's a Chinese tradition for parents to give their child a key on their 21st birthday. And being in admiration of Chinese tradition and culture, it was the perfect gift (not to mention it being white gold because yellow gold looks chav-y).

But of course this doesn't mean I'm ditching dad's gift - a Tag Heuer watch. I mean, dad's quite a Scrooge when it comes to money and receiving a watch worth thousands came as quite a shock. It's a beautiful one too - worn by Kimi Raikonen. It feels really weird to wear something on your wrist which costs a hundred times more than the total of what I'm wearing. But in the end, you know what the Chinese say about giving clocks (or watches) to other people.

My smashing summer

Yu Chun Keung Memorial College No. 2
My very first school and a secondary one at that. At first, I was very worried because these guys have a notorious reputation. Teachers from previous years have been known to cry because of them. So I was quite surprised to get a lot of respect besides bonding quite well with them. In fact, I learnt a lot from them - not just in terms of teaching but everything a Hong Kong teenager should know (where to hang out, how to dress, how to *ahem speak, etc.) I wouldn't have learnt as much as I did with them had my first school been a primary school. I'll definitely remember them - if not for the fact that i was sexually harassed by the entire class during the school trip to the museum.

King's College Old Boy's Association Primary School No. 2
My second school - first primary school. I was apprehensive at teaching primary school students at first, worrying that they wouldn't be able to understand me and I wouldn't be able to control them. At the end of the week however, I had so much fun teaching these cute little devils that I just couldn't bear to leave them. Most memorable event: definitely the fashion show. Aside from the fact that my class won Best Male Costume and emerged as the best class, let's just say I'm very good at walking the catwalk as well as making macho and camp poses.

Hong Kong Baptist Convention Primary School
Third school - second primary school. Most memorable event: the closing ceremony. I've been teaching dance as my extra-curricular activity - pop dance for secondary school and line dance for primary school. These kids learnt my entire Saturday Night Fever line dance choreography within an hour and asked if they could incorporate the dance into a play for the closing ceremony. I was quite surprised at how keen they were! Nonetheless, I wrote the script - filled with colloquial slangs - and choreographed a kung fu and sword fighting scene between Triad members. It turned out great and was the best performance of all.

YOT Tin Ka Ping Secondary School
Second secondary school and best school of all. At first, I was worried that I wouldn't be able to get into the mindframe required to teach secondary school students after having taught two primary schools for two consecutive weeks. But I've bonded really close with these guys by the end. We hung out together after school at shopping complexes, had dinner, hot pot and tau foo fah together, took a few sticker photos and fooled around just like other teenage guys. I got lots of gifts from them even after persuading them not to get any for me. We've promised to keep in touch and hopefully stay as friends forever. If anything, I'd return to Hong Kong just to teach them again.

Bonham Road Government Primary School
Last fifth school - third primary school. My first impression: 'Dear God!' Instead of the usual 20, I had 26 students. And not just any 26 students, they were the youngest. My fellow group teachers challenged me into taking this class by saying that I wouldn't be able to get as close with them compared to previous classes. I was quite overwhelmed at first to tell the truth - think Maria in 'The Sound of Music' but with 26 children. Thankfully, I got the hang of it before the end. Most memorable event - definitely the closing ceremony. After teaching two primary schools my Saturday Night Fever line dance, I decided to do something different. So I choreographed a Para Para Sakura dance and taught it to them. And what a hit they were at the closing ceremony. It suited these cute little buggers so well. After the closing ceremony, one of my students couldn't bear to part with me and started crying while clinging to my leg. It took me everything to persuade her to follow her mum home - which she did reluctantly - after I promised to return again next year to teach her. It was a fitting end to five weeks of teaching.