Home again

Kitty greeted me as I silently opened the door. She rubbed her head against my feet, and was the only one to welcome me back. Everyone else was asleep. After some nine hours of travelling it's nice to see a familiar face, even if that's of your pet.

The train pulled away from Strasbourg, and I sat alone in my cabin. It took a while to realise that I'm leaving, after the last two weeks having passed like two hours in my mind. As the train sped into the hilly landscape of Alsace, I wondered when I will return again.

Sometime soon, that's for sure. When I first visited Strasbourg on that high school trip, I was but an innocent boy of fifteen. Walking around the old city, neck sore from staring at the soaring cathedral, little did I know then that my feet would take me back there, again, and again, and again. Perhaps I have a special bond with the city, and undoubtedly it will only grow stronger as Sunny grows older.

It was strange to see Sunny after almost half a year. He stared at me, and turned to hug his mommy by the legs, scared as if he had seen something frightening. I tried to reach out, to touch his little arm, but he pushed me away. It was a little gesture, but meaningful one, and one that made me somewhat disappointed. He had forgotten me, I thought, after all that we've been through together, after all the times I've been there for him and his mommy...

But soon enough, Sunny and I reconnected... more and more, with each passing day. Perhaps it was through the nightly baths that I gave him, during which I always end up being soaked from the splashes and kicks he makes, or perhaps it was the little cuddles I give him whenever he climbs over me in the morning and giggles in my ear to wake me. Whatever the reason, he didn't see me as a stranger any more, and that is a warming feeling.

It's funny how a baby can touch you so, and each time I visit him, I realise the power of his very being, and what an affect he has on me. Before he was a fragile being, so frail, and couldn't even sit up by himself. This time, he was crawling all over the place, and at times even daringly discovering the art of walking on his feet. Before, the world was whatever he saw from his pram or from the arms of his mommy. Now, the world was wherever his little hands and little knees could bring him. Before, he played with stuffed animals and cute little baby toys. Now, anything and everything could be a potential plaything. Which makes the world an exciting but also dangerous place.

A couple of times he hurt himself, bumping into cupboards, getting his little fingers stuck between in the doorway, chocking on toothpaste, and even swallowing a coin. But nothing seemed to take away his energy and life. Buddhism talks about living in the present moment... well for a baby life is really "here and now"... his needs, his curiosity, his movements, his cries, screams... all reflectinng what he wants there and then. Unlike grown ups, who fret and dwell in the already-gone past, and worry and prophesise about the unknown future, causing themselves unnecessary suffering and pain in the process. There's really a lot you can learn from a baby. Only a shame that most people tend to dismiss a baby as just a baby.

Coming back, to work and to my studies, I feel like I'm missing something in life, something I've left back there. But then again, I feel refreshed and full of life, because I've been able to see and feel life in its prime, in baby Sunny.

Baby Sunny sleeping

Baby Sunny V

Baby Sunny IV

Baby Sunny III

Playing with my suitcase, shortly after I arrived

"Allo? Allo?" He likes to pick up the phone and imitate his mum speak...

Sleeping... shhhhh

A night of you and me

You played with my, lips, brows, fingering them ever so softly, exploring each and every surface of my face like it was a new world waiting to be discovered. All the while, your big brown eyes stared into mine, with a look of curiosity, a look of familiarity at the same time. I stroked your soft little arm as your stuffed clown chimed out a lovely lullaby. Sleep, Sunny, sleep…

It’s been quite an evening. Mummy went out to the cinema on her own, so it was just the two of us. At first I doubted I could cope, and I was sure minutes after mummy left out the door you’d burst into tears. But mummy deserved some time alone.

You crept around in the kitchen and let out random shouts and screams. Not ear-piercing or irritating ones, but soft and cute ones that I replied to with calls of my own, as I fixed dinner for the two of us. Each time you called, I called back, only to be answered by an echo of my call, as you tried to imitate me. The kitchen filled with the fragrant smell of sizzling garlic and fish, as the call of a baby and a twenty-something pretending to speak baby.

You’re never choosy when it comes to food, and whenever your little Winnie the Pooh spoon took into the air, laden with fish and vegetables, your little mouth opened automatically, waiting. Dinner was quick, and the setting sun lured us out. Or perhaps just me, because you had no choice but go wherever I went.

We strolled down the riverbank of the Ill, in the shade of trees and occasionally feeling drops of water on our heads that were too heavy for leaves to carry. The ground was damp and puddly from the storm shower before, but the rain had stopped and the sky was beautifully dusk orange. I pushed you along, and sometimes you’d turn your little had to stare at me with those big eyes, perhaps silently asking where we were going. I too had no idea.

Pebbled jumped beneath the wheels, and twigs snaps under my feet. I’d pretend we’re a plane about to take off, and charge for a distance and all of a sudden lift up the front wheel, while at the same time make the sound of a roaring engine. You burst out laughing and giggling and waved your little arms up and down from the excitement. I smiled, and you smiled back.

Towards Petite France we went, down the alleyways and cobble stone road of ancient Strasbourg. Passer-bys would turn and stare, and on their faces you could see the temporary delight that your presence brought to their lives, even if only for a fleeting moment. And I enjoyed that feeling, of being mistaken as the proud dad of such an adorable little baby. It was as if for those moments walking around with you the world was fooled into believing that I am not so alone after all. And that’s a warming feeling.

Coming home, you were already fast asleep. I didn’t want to wake you, but it was time for your bath. You sleepily stirred from your sleep, rubbed your eyes and stood there in the bathroom, yawning, gaping, and drowsily wondering what was happening. But as soon as you saw the bath water running, you immediately lit up and wanted to climb in. you turned to me, with big eyes begging. Once in the tub you splashed around like a duckling exploring. What you liked most was the shower, and that strange feeling as it hit your skin. What joy! What fun you had, as I felt my sleeves and pants get soaked in the waves of water you splashed all over me.

In bed, you jumped around, up and down, wriggling to the rhythm of the children’s music playing in the background. I tried to put you down and to sleep, but you kept on sitting up and wriggling like a restless worm. The colourful musical clown lay at your feet and I pulled on the cord. A soft lullaby echoed in the air. It was as if it captured your heart, and calmed it down. Sleep, Sunny, sleep…

I covered you with the blanket, and lay down next to you. For a minute or two, you fumbled my face and cheeks, at first quickly and excitedly, but as the lullaby played on, your eye lids fell, further and further each time. You rubbed your tired eyes, the same eyes I stared into and saw my own reflection. What did you see in me, what did you feel in me?

Yawn.

Slowly your eyes close, heavier and heavier as the lullaby lingered…

Sleep, Sunny, sleep…

Baby Sunny

Playing with my mobile phone! : )

Baby Sunny and the Nanny

The temporary au pair.

Throughout the first year

Right after birth...

One month old...

Six months old...

One year old!

Baby Sunny Birthday!

Birthday candle on the left!

Playing with his new toy

I got him this train with his name 'Aslon'... but realised his name is spellt "Aslan", after the lion king in the Chronicles of Narnia!
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.

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.

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.

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.