Silence!

*nar-vigaa-torr says -

xxx typed*: mind (blog)

(Monday, 17 December 2007-)
+12/17/2007 10:38:00 am]*

Title: Crying on a van-

Every time I hear the word ‘移民' from anyone, especially in Chinese, I could feel my eyes burning even before I notice that myself. It never happened when others say words like ‘immigrants’ or ‘refugees’, strangely. Maybe that’s because… these words are heard so often that somehow just seem to be clichés whenever I come across them.

This burning sensation sometimes fades away; frequently when I’m either too tired or something else must be on my mind. Yet on other occasions, those eyes of mine tend to feel rather heavy as little things attempt their way through my eyelashes while they lead me to every single line that ran while I was on the van in Mae Sot.

It was on a Saturday when our van had to leave the school near the western side of Thailand which was quite close to Burma after being there for a week, meeting the lovely daring kids and hospitable teachers and seniors. Almost all didn’t want to leave, especially when we could create bonds with them that were so tight even for the few days.

Before boarding the van it was very nice to see everyone giving their smiles and trying to gain every bit of time to see us enjoying ourselves being their guests. But by the time everyone really got on and our vehicle started moving, my little glimpse out of the window somehow seemed to zoom at Mimiso, a Grade 2 girl there.

She was facing away from the van. I can’t describe what she was doing exactly, but it’s like those crying scenes when you see on dramas where you could only see half the face.

That’s when the Chinese words came in. I’m in a similar situation as those kids. They’ve foresee a problem at their hometown, they fled to somewhere else. Yes, my parents wanted to come to Singapore when they were afraid of the crisis. But if you compare both cases, the outcomes are very different. I’m lucky in the sense that I’ve got an identity, a nationality, yet those children who have lots of potential in them, they don’t. Instead, they’re called ‘illegal immigrants’, or ‘refugees’ when the locals had to name them ‘migrants’ only. So why can’t they be called the same too?

It’s very unfair that everyone is born to live with varying head starts. Some are fortunate; they get their silver spoon, or maybe they get to be cute and chubby. Perhaps, some take in just enough carbohydrates to keep them breathing, others don’t even live that long. Those kids never had much flesh. From what we eat with at least 3 dishes for lunch compared to theirs which was porridge for all three meals when I’m pretty sure their definition of ‘porridge’ very much differs from what we ate for breakfast in Mae Sot, it was rather obvious that the kids’ lives depended heavily on the carbos and laughter everyone brought about.

Then, I was admiring the way how strong those little ones were right in front of us. They knew we were leaving, similar to what might have happened to them a year earlier, yet they clung onto us whenever possible. What really gave me a smile deep from the heart was when the children were asking for our contact numbers. It’s true that they won’t have much chance to call us really, but it’s the optimism in them that struck me that day. The belief that they can build long-term friendship with us was too touching when urban people seldom do. In Singapore, people lose their friends because of their fear of not being accepted. Yet in the school, everyone was more concerned about accepting new guests and this was something I missed from the trip; their hospitality.

While I was giving my contact number to one of the older kids there, someone asked me if I would be going back to their school the following year. He was Hongteh, whom I thought he was the most athletic person around. Knowing that it would be impossible to leave with the major exam coming up next year, I was too quick to answer this, “two years later” with the amount of confidence I never gave before. But on the van, I realised I will be wrong when there’s ns for two years!

By then when I was reflecting this on the van I truly broke down; with those hopeful eyes wishing that we’ll be back to see them, I couldn’t believe I was giving them a false hope. All those games we played all those bonds we formed; they’d all be gone with a lie. What’s worse when the children there don’t have much time left at that school? Three years later almost half of them would leave for work, more likely I wouldn’t get the chance to meet them again…

The tear tap was on its maximum, regardless if my eyelids were even closed. The previous time I had so much tears was when my maternal granddad passed away while I was nine. I knew the guys on the last row must be staring at me, but their attention was much diverted to Shan when she started earlier. But when I began to question why both of us cried, it made me feel worse since I know that my fate would be completely different if there was any slight decision change by my parents. Had they not chosen this island here, I wouldn’t have known so many kind souls around. I might even be one of them with barely the hope of knowing things beyond my surroundings!

Jo gave me a pat when we stopped some time to see the Friendship Bridge. It seemed like he was forcing those droplets out further when all those memories somehow refreshed all over again, because I knew deep inside that no one else would understand that I was so close from losing everything. Yet out in the sun everything seemed to dry up. Maybe it’s also the peer pressure that everyone else might be seeing how embarrassed I’d be which closed the tap. Perhaps the funny flash that came to my mind that I’d be resembling those cartoon characters who are unaware of the obstacles on the road as they fall flat onto the ground digressed my teary moments.

Currently I’ve been keeping myself busy or real tired whenever possible to get my mind off the false hope or the Chinese words. But they never looked to leave me anytime soon when I don’t sleep well at night with lots of weird dreams. The last time I remembered having dreams at night was close to 4 months ago!

yup, so that's what happened (:
________________________________________________________________________________

xxx typed*: blog

(Monday, 17 December 2007-)
+12/17/2007 10:38:00 am]*

Title: Crying on a van-

yup, so that's what happened (:
________________________________________________________________________________

xxx typed*: biography (profile)

this fella!
+ terence
+ 23 Oct (scorpio)
+ tps mss cjc cve nus
________________________________________________

USER*: hi

hi! nice to meet you! you are...?
________________________________________________

USER*: music

Free Counter

USER*: hi

HEY EVERYONE! Someone somehow at somewhere decided to find out on something somewhat sounded like the 'random quote of the day' at sometime of the day. Never believe anything until it has been officially denied. ~Claud Cockburn (1904 - 1981) So yes! You should be feeling optimistic about whatever that comes in life and NEVER BE AFFECTED BY THOSE WHO DEMORALISE YOU! STUDY HARD K! (:
________________________________________________

USER*: hello

hello! nice to meet you! you are...?
________________________________________________

USER*: hello

zz

________________________________________________

USER*: hello

teeth

________________________________________________

USER*: hai

whoever!

________________________________________________

xxx typed*: calender

calender*

Free Blog Content
________________________________________________

xxx typed*: tagboard

+agg'n.takkaires*

xxx typed*: credits

blogger
blogspot
ahhxuann

xxx typed*: --

what's this? HA GOTCHA!

xxx typed*: nothing

oh! you'll find me here
(~duh!)
enter exactly wad you wan in the navigator below;

blog
~~profile~~
~~archives~~
tagboard
calender
links
credits

________________________________________

sorry! i don't getcha . type on d nar-vigaa-torr again (: