01 June 2007
31 May 2007
Baby Sunny Birthday!
Quickly went to buy the correct letter and sent it out yesterday (therefore I was at the post office!)
I made the rasberry cheese cake in the middle, while my friend's roommate made the choclatey cake, someone else bought the strawberry cake. THe blue-and-white thing is a Dutch tradition, called 'beschuit met muisjes'. It's anise seeds coated with sugar on crunchy bread, and it's a custom to eat this when it's someone's birthday. Blue is for a boy, and pink for a girl!
Birthday boy
Mommy cried on your birthday, Sunny. You looked around, in a room of strangers, in a world waiting to be explored, innocently clutching a little piece of cake in your tiny little hands and fingers.
Happy birthday, Sunny!
Visitors from near and far came to celebrate and rejoice in your first year of life, as a baby, as an angel in the hearts of many. The furtherest came bearing gifts and good tidings from a low-lying land far, far away. But it was worth every hurdle and peril along the way, if only to see you smile.
Truth be told, it was less merry before you were born. Mommy was frightened, scared like an unsure child you sometimes are herself, and worried that she wouldn’t be able to bring you up all on her own. But she managed, not only to give you all the happiness and health in the world, but also the one thing that are missing in the lives of others: a mother’s deep and undying love. That’s why Mommy cried when you innocently sat in your chair while everyone else sang, and while colourful balloons flew like flighty butterflies all around the room. Birds sang outside on this bright, bright day. The day Sunny was born.
Joyeux Anniversaire, Aslan!
We looked at pictures of you, from the day you were born, to the day you took your first little step a few days ago… How small and fragile you once were, and how lively (and loud) you can be now! Never a dull moment, always a source of warmth and light to the lives of so many around you. It shows in the way you call out, in that sweet little intelligible baby babble, and in the way you crawl, crawl, crawl around the house on all fours like a little puppy in search of the next curious little thing to grasp or chew on. You may fall, and you may hurt yourself, but each time after the tears wash away the pain, you continue on your journey, grasping, chewing, crawling and discovering.
At first you were shy, and had forgotten the face and embrace of this foreign looking giant. But the more I changed your nappy, the more I fed you bits of food, and the more I let you splash me all over with water in the tub, the more you warmed to me… and me to you. Deep inside, I cannot but feel a little ashamed that though I’m supposed to be your godfather, I can’t be there to share with you the many first experiences of your life. I know I haven’t been there much for you, and most likely will miss important moments as you grow up, but your life has brought many blessings into mine. And somehow, you manage to take away that guilt, and transform each touch of our fingers, each moment of our time together into priceless memories I wish could last forever.
It’s those big brown eyes of yours, those podgy red cheeks, those wisplets of soft brown hair hanging down your forehead, and those adorable dimples that often appear when you stare into my eyes… It’s the way you look, act and move that help me to rediscover the priceless sense innocence and purity that people loose as they grow older, and supposedly wiser. You show me in the subtle way you rub your cheeks against mine, in the gentle way you snore at night that there is a wonderful, indescribable feeling thing as love with powers I never knew existed.
I gave you a kiss on the forehead, and hugged you. I whispered in your ears, and silently prayed in my heart, for your wellbeing, and for your future. The world awaits. The others chatted and were all full of praise of how beautiful, how sweet, and how cute you are. Though it was your birthday, we must also remind ourselves of the mommy behind you, who has been there for you always and everyday and night since your birth, and who will be there always, every time and every where throughout your life. The mommy who you cling to, the mommy you cry for, the mommy whose stomach you like to bounce around on... and the same mommy who gives you the very love and affection that is the source of your warmth.
You looked on, surprise and excitement in your eyes, as you flapped around your arms, revealing the six little white teeth that you had already sprouted. Mommy continued to sob. They were tears of joy, tears of relief, and tears that a mother would shed seeing his little boy grow and grow.
小太陽, 生日快樂 !
May you have such an effect on many more people who have the fortune to cross your path as you older, and wiser. May you always retain that air of innocence that surrounds you now, always live in peace and happiness by being true to yourself.
May you always be a source of warmth and light to yourself and others.
30 May 2007
Cigarettes and marihuana
He looked at my ID card suspiciously. He roughly fumbled in his bag and took out a booklet, quickly flipped through the pages and held it in front of my face for me to read. It was in Dutch, and explained the purpose of this mysterious man and his two chaperoning colleagues.
They had boarded the train just after a city called Thionville, which is the first stop in France and around half an hour or so from Luxembourg. In slick black suits and meticulously pressed white shirts, they looked like secret agents of the CIA. For a while they loitered around the doorway and didn’t enter until the doors closed and train started to pick up speed.
One guy approached me and quickly flashed a badge in front of me, and before I realised what he wanted, he asked for my ID card. Peculiar, I thought to myself, because less than an hour ago some French border police had boarded the train and checked everyone’s ID already. He began to bombard me with questions:
‘Where are you going? For how long? Where are you staying?’
‘Do you have money with you? How much?’
‘Do you have cigarettes?’
It was the routine kind of questions you’d expect from any customs officer. But then came the thing that surprised me most, most likely because it was due to the fact I was coming from the Netherlands.
‘Do you have any drugs? Marihuana?’
I thought back to my experience not so long ago. Straight faced I answered ‘no’ straight away, while deep inside I thought to myself whether anything I was wearing gave the impression that I’m supposed to be a junky of some sort. He didn’t seem impressed with my answer, and went on:
‘Can I look in your bag?
I couldn’t say no, so handed him my backpack. He searched trough it, taking out the plastic bottle of water, a half-eaten sandwich, scrutinised my magazine, paper and pens, and finally set his eyes on two nicely wrapped presents that were intended for my friend and the baby. A bundle of fragile crystal tulips was wrapped carefully with newspaper and bubble paper, while the baby toy had a big sticker and ribbons on it with ‘Prenatal’ written all over it. Without saying anything else, he tore open the wrapping paper and took a long peek inside, poking, fingering and smirking.
When he was finally satisfied, he shoved the whole thing back to me, and smiled for the first time. ‘Have a nice day’.
I felt violated, accused and scrutinised for no good reason, and I wasn’t the only one. I’ve been to France on the same route five times in the last year, but never once have I been checked as stringently as this.
But then again, then the President was someone else.
29 May 2007
Final exam
Everyone looked so defeated and sad after the three hours. In everyone's eyes was the hazy look you get when you don't sleep enough (if at all!) We stood in the hollow hallway of the biggest church, and to my dread some started to talk and ask about what the answer was to this or that question. Probably the last thing I want to think about after a long and tiring exam.
Only managed to sleep one hour last night, the rest of the time I was sick and still trying to study, hoping to jam whatever information I can into my already overloaded and depressed memory bank. The more I studied, the more upset and desparate I got, and started getting really moody, as if everything was so wrong. Felt really terrible...
Glad that all that is over. But it didn't end with the exam. Straight after I had to rush to work, and finish off some chores before I take a small break away from life and everything tomorrow. Hundreds of mailing had to be posted, and I spent a good hour or so stamping and sticking and running up and down to the post office. As if I wasn't exhausted enough already.
Also had to do some last minute shopping, especially for decorations for my godson's first birthday party. So spent some time wandering around the stores searching for the perfect card and lovely balloons and strings to hang. Things that could go wrong seemed to, and when you're already cranky from lack of sleep and so exhausted the world seemed to just now cooperate. Almost go ran over by a cyclist speeding on the pavement... missed the bus, so had to walk and wait for almost half an hour... nearly tripped and crashed into a shelf full of porcelain... hurt myself on the knee with a low bookshelf, which is still hurting... I must have had the most disgusted and horrible look on my face today.
It's been a long, long few months... with mostly downs and so many frustrations surrounding work and studies. In the beginning you think to yourself that things will get better, but the downward spiral of depression catches you and pulls you in. Binge eating and over-sleeping are the symptoms... lack of enthousiasm and this indescribably sense of longing for something (but not sure what) are almost a constant... my career prospects don't seem to have any prospects at all.... And added to this I feel more and more irritated about having to share a house with people who dump everything everywhere.
So I really need, and to some extend perhaps even deserve, a break. Break from it all, break from life, work, and home. A change of scenery always helps to lift the spirit and mind. And most of all, I'll see my special little baby boy again, the baby boy who is turning one, the baby boy who has so often given me so many smiles and heart-warmth just by being who he is.
All change.
28 May 2007
Walk
It probably wasn't such a good idea to walk around in the rain, especially when my throat is aching and I feel a cold coming. But I needed it.
With an exam looming tomorrow, I've been feeling pretty down and low, again. All the motivation and energy seemed to have been drained out of me, and instead of getting down to do some studying, I've been sleeping and sleeping. Not that I'm tired or so, but seems like sleeping could take away the days and waking moments.
The weather's not been too kind either. Low-lying clouds, rain and wind. I know that it's the very last exam, but still there's nothing to motivate me onwards. Seems like whatever I read, the words go through me and I forget instantly... worse is I don't really have a clue what we're expected to know from the huge book we've been given to revise. It's as if I couldn't really care less, even though it's so important...
I think it started around a month ago, because of another course I was doing. A group of us had worked so hard and so long on producing a memorial and arguing in front of a mock court. We were so committed and dedicated, had great arguments and performed well in our presentations. Our written arguments was around 50 pages in total, and extremely professionally done. Yet we got this incompetent and extremely frigid teacher who assessed our work. We ended up with a disappointing mark, even though compared to so many others we really worked together as a team and had all our arguments well thought out and consistently presented.
I didn't think it would affect me this much, but it really has. We spoke to our course coordinator, but basically he said there's nothing much that can be done. But the damage has been done, and all of us feel so deflated and discouraged from the whole experience. It's as if saying hardwork means nothing at all, whereas people who just throw anything on paper get similar grades. Why bother trying if this is the result we're going to get? Throughout the whole year I've been quite satisfied with the course so far... but because of this, and a lot of other petty little things that's been accumulating, I'm really feeling angry and bitter towards this entire masters programme, and the whole university.
It took a walk in the rain to get this out of me. I'll be so glad when this whole fiasco is all over.
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