Durian VS Attachment

Being attached to something is an indescribable experience, it is a little bit ambiguous, but more of it is a feeling of intimacy...especially to a country.

It was on last Friday that I first attempted durian, a prestigious tropical fruit with the title----"THE KING OF THE FRUIT". But what really matters to me is that this magical fruit is the symbol of Singapore----a country which I am making every efforts to develop an attachment. My mummy(my affable guardian) once told me with a smile esteemed with mystique,"some people have made an interesting investigation with expatriats and immigrants in Singapore, those who could take durians would stay in Singapore, those who could not would not stay here." A question then followed with inquisition."How do you find durian?......"she approached with utmost discretion, as if she was trying to prevent a crystal ball from falling from the top of a flagpole.

" I have not tried yet..."detecting the undertone beneath her question, I gave an ambiguous answer, but it was truth. I INDEED had not not tried it at that specific moment, and an expression of embarrassment flickered across my face.

" Oh! So far so good, having not tried means neutral, thus it is good hah!" she said with an exclamation of relief. I was engulfed by the shame then, after all, by that moment I have been here for three months, yet I still had not even tried the most symbolic fruit here; I immersed in my own thoughts and self-pity while others returned to their normal mode of emotion.

I determined to try...to apply this magical method of predicting destiny...

However, my notorious frugality overwhelmed me once and once again. Whenever I was exposed in front of a durian stall, antagonistic thoughts combatted within my mind: buy it, and predict your future...; do not, think about how little money you have, never develop the bad habit of extravangance, it is not the proper time to indulge into such a luxury in such a hasty manner...compare, and decide...

Thus, I was dragged by my own weakness until last Friday, standing in front a durian stall, my feet could hardly buffle forward. The shrewd businessman perceived my willingness to buy and exerted all his strength to eliminate my hesitation. Trying to ignore the overwhelming price tags on those lovely slices of fruit meat, I started to grope my purse in my handbag. A deal which delighted both traders ensued...

I walked all the way hpme with the unique smell of this magical fruit, reluctant to lose every inhaling without its companion. All my knowledge about this fruit before was its pungent smell, and I have always been gazing at the sign in the MRT trains indicating"NO DURIAN", being captived by the uniqueness of this fruit...and now, it is lying quietly in a plastic bag beside me, letting out its aroma with ease and tranquill.

I was determined to let this appetizer touch my taste buds as soon as I went back to my "home" (I always regard my cosy area up to 14 square metres as "home" to deliberately eschew the aggitating sense of homelessness). The only and the most important explanation was that I did not want the lunch to wear out my appetite which had been successfully whetted up by the stuff beside me. So, I hurried to wash my hands after unlocking the door with impatience churning in my stomach and then sat stiffly on my chair, staring at thia little thing, brewing the emotion which was essential in the process of prediction the future......

I carefully picked up one and had a bite...

The answer was delightfully obvious...

I soon finished up the whole box, except for one piece which I deliberately left for my sister to predict hers...with great reluctance...

Sniffing again and again at the only left piece of durian, I finally managed to resist its temptation with considerable determination.

That was how I got the answer of the question which had been plaguing me for more than a season...

That was how I began to cherish my attachment to this country...as I know it is rare..

Lost and Regain

Sometimes there is only a negligible distance between loss and possesstion, and that distance is powerful enough to dictate your mood.

Today, an unexpected accident struck me as such a big flow that I nearly lose consciousness of what was going to happen were it not for the kindness of an angelic girl from 209. The day began with peace and serenity. Although the incessant rain resulted in our having PE lesson lesson within the building, I regarded this as a great opportunity of admiring the gradeur of our school building. All day along, time tickled by without anything to vex me, until I returned to my "cosy" hostel from school, away from all the hustle and bustle of school life. However, It was then when the disaster began to step into my life.

After writing a skit for the upcoming drama competition, my energy is nearly sucked out of my body. Rummaging frenzily in my backpack in search of my handphone so that I could comfortably lie down and enjoy the music as an award for a whole day's hardworking, it suddenly daunted upon me that my handphone was in the middle of nowhere! What a blow! I searched every inch of my domain but it was in vain.The little thing refused to appear.

I calmed down and reviewed all the scenes connected with my handphone in my experience during the day. 

Suddenly I realised that I left it in a toilet after changing into PE attire for my CCA. I was so busy changing my plaits into a ponytail because the band is broken that I totally neglected the fact that my handphone slept quietly on the table. In a hurry rushing into the drama room, it slipped out of my notice......

Putting on my school attire at light's speed, inserting my feet into the shoes without the company of my sockes, I grabbed my key and left my room for school with a 'bang' of the door. Inside, I longed for the reappearance of my handphone on the very table of that specific toilet.

Greeting the guarding aunty in the most hasty manner, I directly zero in on that specific toilet on the fourth floor. With a deep breath and the most sincere prayer leading to my opening the door of that 'devine' toilet, I was startled to find out that there was nothing but air on the surface of the very table....

My brain is blank for a second. I rub my eyes and concentrated again on that table...nothing magical happened, some drops of spilled tap water quietly reamined there, as if it was staring at me in the most intolerable mocking manner.

......When I dragged my legs onto the fourth floor, I once dreamt that there were some upright people who would not take away my phone, but now I realised how stupid I was...putting myself into such a situation in which my destiny was totally in some other people's hands. I was so vulnerable that I had no way but to completely depend upon the "integrity" of the person who took my phone.

Still, I did not totally lose my hope. With the last slice of hope, I searched every conpartment of the toilet, still yearning for the appearance of the phone. However, I had no way to deny the fact that it WAS no there.

It was then that I began to think about the potential harmful aftermath awaiting me: all my contact list and short messages will be exposed. If the phone dropped into the hands of some bad guy, the consequence will be terribly unimaginable. Terms like "blackmail", "machinery", "threatening" and "identity faking" flooded into my head. If I really lost my handphone,besides going against my concept of frugality to buy a new one, I have to inform everybody in contact of my new number, moreover, my information given to the school and MOE will also need to be changed...by that time, I have no way out but to plunge into the interminable sence of shame triggered by all the trouble I have brought about.

Letting frustration ruthlessly devour my heart, I left my school and headed home. I still dreamt that it may miraculously appear in my backpack...

It proved that my desire was too unrealistic, it did not appear although I nearly emptied my backpack and had fumbled in every of my pocket...

I could not enjoy my dinner as carefree as usual. The possible consequences conytinued to haunt me and almost drove me mad. Again, I put on my shoes, grabbed my wallet nad rushed downstairs towards school----totally devoid of the patience to wait for the life to come down.

This time, I was determined to make a search inch after inch...

Firstly, I rushed into the general office to remind the person in charge not to lock the shutters until I returned. Secondly, I got the keys of my classroom and went straight away upstairs. Thirdly, I searched every corner of my classroom but found nothing valuable except JP's E-maths textbook and WK's HCL journal. Totally depressed by my discovery, I locked the door and went to my last destination----the toilet.

It was really amazing that I went into the same tolet twice within an hour----with the same unusual purpose. But again, there was nothing but air on the empty table...

I leaned my head on the door and was about to cry when my sister's handphone which I always kept with me rang. The calling person was "Amy"! Oh, my goodness!!

With trumbled hands, I answered the phone, it was a girl as I had expected. She told me that she had found a phone in the toilet and wanted to confirm that I was the loser. I gave her some details to show that the phone was mine and asked for her name and class.... I nearly died of exultation....

We decided to meet the next day at Jurong East Int, and I am sure that by that time, I will send her my most sincere gratitude...

There are angels in this world, after all...

Karren Chia

She is my first English teacher I had in Singapore who I will never forget.

I deliberately preserved all the notes she gave us through which I can retrace my life spent with her in the permanent CR17, which is now my Advanced Maths classroom.

She deserves my wholelife remembrance.

She treated everyone with sheer justice and equality, which is of utmost importance in a class of students with various competence.

I will never forget the scene she buried her head into our journals and marked them with all of her might.
I will never forget her dramatic tone of calling "Richard" and following with a pretending frown.
I will never forget her elegant demeanour, although she does not wear any accessories like a lot of other teachers and her appearance is well beyond being appealing, she is defined as "angellic" by all of us.

She is an affable mother of a 18-year-old boy and a 19-year-old girl.
She depicted her daughter's room as the liar of a lion which evoked my numerous imagination of possible scenes.
She possess a sincere way of giving advice and her suggestions were kept in our mind as "gold tips".
She enjoys the trust from everyone of us which is the best present she got throughout her experience of teaching us.

Whenever I am in trouble or in triumph, the first person I consult with is my mother, the second is my "mummy", the third is her.
Whenever I read the red remarks or those humble pencil traces on my journal, my heart is infused with warmth.
Whenever I recall her early morning arrival and the high pile of The Straits Times stacking on her desk, a sense of admiration is triggered out.
Whenever I carefully caresse the pendant she gave me after her trip to Korea, it is as if we are together in the CR17 again, with the familiar sound of unforgettable "Richard" ``````

She is riveted in my memory,and

She deserves it.

Anniversaries

This March is loaded with anniversaries.

5th March: I have been in Singapore for totally four months, which is a SEASON in China----I have just crossed the border between winter and spring.
11 March: I finished my Pitman level 5 English test organised by Cambridge City Committe exactlly one year before and soon plunged into the bustle and hustle of preparation for the graduation examination.
14 March: My father's 45th birthday,~~~It will be an incomplete one because of the absence of me and my sister.
15 March:Exactly one year ago, I began to push aside the graduation examination and laid my hands on the preparation for the entrance examination organised by Singapore Ministry of Education.

Anniversaries add this month with a shroud of nostalgia. Those feelings which have been driven away from my heart a few weeks ago once again began to occupy my mind. What would the life be like if I did not change my direction and continue to rotate on my original orbit? What is my life like in THEIR eyes? UTOPIA?

"Life is not always a barrel of laughs",my father cautioned me just four months ago,"when I was away from home in my youthhood, the first one or two weeks were endurable, but after one or two months, homesickness will lead you into an interminable torture of mind." " Is it really so?" I doubted his assumption with a grimace. But it is proved that I lapsed into a mistake just at that moment, I underestimated what was for me to confront.

Now a season has passed. Time ticked by with utmost serenity and composure, although inside my mind thoughts churned like torrents of a sea before the storm. I have to admit that I am stronger than my father, because I never let that sense of homesickness deter my way of heading forwards.

Because I clearly know that they have missed us much more than I have missed them~~~
Because I bear in mind their love and transform it into the most effective motivates~~~
Because we have a promise, unbreakable promise~~~

Daddy, tomorrow is your birthday, Happy Birthday to you and wait for my call.
(Although I know he cannot read English, I am sure he and the whole family have perceived my love for them. )

Anniversaries are a reminder of the time passed.

Anniversaries are for us to commemorate, for us to relook at the long long way which we have left our footprints on~~~

Heading North

After reading the article about the life of the Mexican migrants heading towards the USA, my heart is loaded with indescribable heaviness. In the passage, despite the perilous borders they have to cross before reaching their destinations,despite the enormous possibility of encounterng and being attacked by ruthless bandits and muggers, despite the bleak future they have to face even if they have attained their fundamental aim----getting to the America, these Central American migrants from Guatemala or El Salvador or Nicaragua never give up their dream----their enthusiasm and motivation never wane, although occasionally a look of uncertainty may flicker across their face. Because of one simple yet also complicated reason:they are willing to push for their futures.

When they were asked of the potential undesirable situation they were going to plunge themselves in after reaching their destination, they showed utmost composure,what they wanted were merely jobs, and dollars.Their dreams were simple, but to them, their hope can suck in all their efforts,as well as rendering them into an unpredictable situation in which their destiny is not dominated by themselves. However, their exploration never stops.Their dreams are like their belief, and they stick to their dreams like those pious devotees sticking to their religions.The same piety, yet pursuits are different.

I was in awe when I read about their explanation for their motives of migration which they even need to put their lives at stake,"it is just need that makes you do certain things". Compassion and then reverence overwhelmed me. NEED, what an abstract concept that you can only feel in your hearts, and at the same time, is also so substantial that you can even touch it and grasp it tightly in your hands now and then.

They are a group of illegal people who are resented by officials,but from their actions, I saw a certain kind of peseverence which is of great importance to all the human-beings. There is a Chinese song called "heading north all the way". Here, I think these Central Americans put a deeper connotation in this song~~~