My journey to school was quite lengthy. And, after about an hour or so, I have finally arrived. It was a relief.
The classroom was located far from the school entrance. While I was strolling down the sidewalks, I witnessed many students were smartly dressed in bright white and blue uniforms. It was a tradition to wear uniforms on formal events like this. Every students registered in this school, were given a roster on the mandatory dates to put on full uniforms, in respect of the belated donor of this premise as well as the school itself.
I walked passed a car park that stood right in front of our double storey block. They were some students, leaning against the Blue Bird and Mazda giggling; amused by funny little jokes while the others were stealing time, having short naps before the class began.
Well, for me, I was a stranger to this environment. Logically, the first approach, after stepping my feet in the classroom, was to find myself a place to sit – a location where I am comfortable of. However, there was nowhere to look without meeting curious eyes.
Many were wearing knitted outfit due to the damp, cool weather. I looked at the conditions of my attires. They were comparable with the others except for the yellowish stained on the underneath arm and collar, and the slight fit blouse. I have hold possession for this blouse for the past, say, two months or so from a secondhand trader in the neighbourhood.
Due to our unforeseen condition, it was a practice to inheritate 3rd parties’ wear-off as well as discolored garments which I have always hated. Sometimes, mom even has to bargain if the prices offered were beyond our targeted budget.
My classmates, I guessed, were from the nearby neighbourhood too, mostly Chinese speaking; contrary to me. I remained ‘invisible’ until a fine-looking guy approaches me then introduced himself as Shawn Dai Sh’ng.
“Hi, I’m Bridget Longman”, he greeted me after glancing through the tag pinned on my chess.
I just acknowledged with a simple nod and a grin.
He smiled back with a hint of dimple, much visible on his left then walked back to his seat.
He is 5’ 6”, too tall for his age, I commented.
I can judge the brown haired bloke was considerably popular among those petite twin sisters who were sitting just in front of him. From my intuition, they seem to have a lot in common and keen to share every single experience with him. I eavesdropped that the twins, Brenda and Brandy Morris, have just came back from their year-end-vacation in Honolulu and their occurrence snapping photograph with some American Idols on board.
I enjoyed their conversation but I, personally, have always feared of the deep blue sea. Perhaps I couldn’t prevailed over the phobia of being gulp-down by the rough wave or being attacked by ‘jaws’.
The flash backs still strike me occasionally although few years have gone. I turned to the pages of yesterday and could recall it was during our four days and three nights’ summer vacation at a fishing village in Panama:
At 10.15 am, we had already gathered at the chalet lobby waiting for the rest for the family members to brace themselves up. The sky was clear, and the tide line was scattered by palm trees that have grown along the island. From a distance, we witnessed pelicans resting their feet on those dull gold, sea green stones while the ravens wheeled above them.
We had a fine a-la-carte breakfast and then decided to go to the beach for the rest of the morning - swimming, scuba diving as well as spending some amusing time together.
The beach is crowded. We can’t wait to find ourselves a shady spot to place our stuffs. We headed towards the sea leaving mom and grannies behind. Mom did not join us. Instead, she prefers nude sun bathing and enjoying her fiction. While grannies, still holding their soft drinks, were sitting just a foot away from her.
“Where is Jaclyn,” I asked dad in concern. She was eight by then, a keen seashell collector. He pointed north to where Jaclyn stood while making payment at the underwater game counter.
The classroom was located far from the school entrance. While I was strolling down the sidewalks, I witnessed many students were smartly dressed in bright white and blue uniforms. It was a tradition to wear uniforms on formal events like this. Every students registered in this school, were given a roster on the mandatory dates to put on full uniforms, in respect of the belated donor of this premise as well as the school itself.
I walked passed a car park that stood right in front of our double storey block. They were some students, leaning against the Blue Bird and Mazda giggling; amused by funny little jokes while the others were stealing time, having short naps before the class began.
Well, for me, I was a stranger to this environment. Logically, the first approach, after stepping my feet in the classroom, was to find myself a place to sit – a location where I am comfortable of. However, there was nowhere to look without meeting curious eyes.
Many were wearing knitted outfit due to the damp, cool weather. I looked at the conditions of my attires. They were comparable with the others except for the yellowish stained on the underneath arm and collar, and the slight fit blouse. I have hold possession for this blouse for the past, say, two months or so from a secondhand trader in the neighbourhood.
Due to our unforeseen condition, it was a practice to inheritate 3rd parties’ wear-off as well as discolored garments which I have always hated. Sometimes, mom even has to bargain if the prices offered were beyond our targeted budget.
My classmates, I guessed, were from the nearby neighbourhood too, mostly Chinese speaking; contrary to me. I remained ‘invisible’ until a fine-looking guy approaches me then introduced himself as Shawn Dai Sh’ng.
“Hi, I’m Bridget Longman”, he greeted me after glancing through the tag pinned on my chess.
I just acknowledged with a simple nod and a grin.
He smiled back with a hint of dimple, much visible on his left then walked back to his seat.
He is 5’ 6”, too tall for his age, I commented.
I can judge the brown haired bloke was considerably popular among those petite twin sisters who were sitting just in front of him. From my intuition, they seem to have a lot in common and keen to share every single experience with him. I eavesdropped that the twins, Brenda and Brandy Morris, have just came back from their year-end-vacation in Honolulu and their occurrence snapping photograph with some American Idols on board.
I enjoyed their conversation but I, personally, have always feared of the deep blue sea. Perhaps I couldn’t prevailed over the phobia of being gulp-down by the rough wave or being attacked by ‘jaws’.
The flash backs still strike me occasionally although few years have gone. I turned to the pages of yesterday and could recall it was during our four days and three nights’ summer vacation at a fishing village in Panama:
At 10.15 am, we had already gathered at the chalet lobby waiting for the rest for the family members to brace themselves up. The sky was clear, and the tide line was scattered by palm trees that have grown along the island. From a distance, we witnessed pelicans resting their feet on those dull gold, sea green stones while the ravens wheeled above them.
We had a fine a-la-carte breakfast and then decided to go to the beach for the rest of the morning - swimming, scuba diving as well as spending some amusing time together.
The beach is crowded. We can’t wait to find ourselves a shady spot to place our stuffs. We headed towards the sea leaving mom and grannies behind. Mom did not join us. Instead, she prefers nude sun bathing and enjoying her fiction. While grannies, still holding their soft drinks, were sitting just a foot away from her.
“Where is Jaclyn,” I asked dad in concern. She was eight by then, a keen seashell collector. He pointed north to where Jaclyn stood while making payment at the underwater game counter.
(to be continued)
