Chapter 6 Falling Action

I remember many things from school and I have also forgotten many things.  Nonentheless, I recall learning about a story's plot and how there will be a falling action after every climax.  And hence, I do not know for sure, but perhaps this is the falling action to MY story.

*

I never liked the idea of showcasing my feelings or anything unnecessary for that matter, to the public because then you are allowing that person to judge you according to your thoughts and opinions at that isolated period of time without stepping back and examining the big picture.  But then, I realised that caring too much or worrying too much about how people may label you is pointless. Haha. So, this post has a darker note to it but...oh well! :D After all, this is still part of my story.

10.31 p.m. 15 June 2011, Wednesday

As I sit here drowned beneath shipping boxes and an oversized suitcase, I try to step back and look at the big picture but frown in dismay.  A distorted feeling creeps beneath my skin and continues to grow as it closes in.  A feeling of irritated sadness of leaving a place I gladly call home.  And a confused yet soft-spoken joy whispering in my ear of family and friend reunions which I have been waiting for.  What did I do to have such a feeling?  Did I think this feeling was even possible?

Happiness and sadness all built into one and creating the weirdest ball of emotions I have ever encountered in my life.  It's like I'm at a fence with family on both sides - each not fully understanding how the other side feels and me being the only bridge to connect them in this world.

It is two weeks to departure/arrival and I feel...numb. I want to say ecstatic but I would be lying.  I want to say sad but I would be lying.  So... perhaps distressed?  I am jumping up and down while having that stick stuck in my throat as each day is checked off.  Packing has been bumpy and staring at these lumps of clothes, souvenirs, and stuff when I wake up every morning and go to bed every night piled up in a corner, I admit, is depressing at times.

For once, I may even feel like a hypocrite because I tell my family and friends how much I miss them and can't wait to go home while the thought of leaving my family here saddens me.  What makes it all the worse is all the feelings and all that I say is true to both sides of the fence.

9.45 a.m. 22 June 2011, Wednesday

The door closed with a clang as I took in the whole image of the school gym once again. I plastered a funny smile on my face as I reminisced how ironic that I was here again despite having said goodbye to this place.  You can never say goodbye too many times.

It was Art Camp and the usual excessive smell of disinfectant floated by unnoticed by my nose as I stood preoccupied with other sights and sounds that mattered more.  So selfish I was to bother as other kids shuffled in a line around me as I absorbed everything I could take in before it was gone.  Minutes later, I snapped out of my reverie and my eyes flickered back toward the door as I saw one of my classmates from the Junior class standing by the water fountain.

We had just finished making a life-sized dragon from cardboard boxes, black garbage bags, oriental-looking table cloth, and pipe cleaners and the younger kids were testing it around the basketball court.  After fifteen minutes of trusting the head of the dragon, the flow of kids just directed me out the gym as I remained lost in thought.

"Andrea, I didn't think you were still here," the deep voice startled me.

I paused for a millisecond - gathering my thoughts, before answering, "Oh, hey Ross! Yea, I'm still here." No matter how many times I've encountered that, the feelings I get when I respond never get old.

"So, when are you leaving?"

"I'll be... leaving next Tuesday." there was nothing else to fill the awkward silence after that apart from the words 'leaving' and 'next Tuesday' that kept ringing in my head.

Not wanting anymore attention than I already had on my departure, I did what I did best when I didn't want to talk about it - I changed the subject, "So...do you know when Pedro leaves?"

And the conversation goes on a little longer the way I wanted it to as we halt at the parking lot, probably 10 feet away from my friend's car.  Strangely, I am standing quite a ways from him as I gesture towards the other school building oblivious of anything else.

"Well, I guess I won't be seeing you again," my friend's words sliced me ice cold.

I sigh and mumble a Yea.

"Nice knowing you, Andrea," I smile and let out a surprising chuckle and suddenly realised that this was the moment I always knew would come but never expected it to be so soon - I had to bid farewell (at least for now) to a world I was introduced to six months ago.  We stepped toward each other and embraced. A powerful yet mutual embrace I wish I could give each and every person I crossed paths with during my stay in Montana.  And with that embrace, I wish I could magically assimilate all the hopes I have for their families, blessings, joy, sadness, worries, and overwhelming gratitude I could never express just by saying words.  Mere words.

"Thanks Ross.  See you...in the future," I smiled as sincerely as I could as he hopped into his truck and tipped his imaginary cowboy hat just like a country boy, "Glad you got to know us Red Necks in Montana," and I smiled even wider than before.

I shuffled my legs and headed east and the truck growled to life and headed west.  Until my friend and I, my school and I, my family and I, Montana and I

would meet again.

*

NOW, 24 June 2011, Friday

The sight of that slightly bigger blue-roofed house fill my mind. I recall it being an off-white colour not because they painted it that way but soiled by the car and scooter tracks circling the cement floor, the garage celing caving in at certain spots which papa was yet to fix, the peg lines I used to hang from when there were no clothes taking up the space, and the white chair swing I used to sit with mommy as she fed me my lunch on weekends.

When I close my eyes, EVERYTHING was real.  I see my dog January with her long shaggy locks of black and white fur clumped up in several places from rolling in the mud right after a cleaning.  In the house, I recall the image of my Kakak just standing by the sink wiping dishes and despite having her back at me, I always picture her looking out the window into the world of unknown.  I don't remember where the peanut butter jar was always kept for I haven't had it since forever but I will not forget the time I ate it with a spoon.  The good old grey fridge had a picture of my cousin and I standing in front of a water fountain and to my right the dining table brought back memories of eating dinner with papa - reducing my portion of rice thinking carbs were 'fattening' and sometimes forgetting to help mommy set the table mats.  The living room is filled with photographs of my life - my family and I posing with a Chinese New Year background, a picture of me with my chin up and hands poised with a ballerina costume, and  who could forget that old shoe rack at the corner.

Moving up a flight of stairs, I see my room and am instantly filled with the memory of school, exams, and books.  It may not seem enjoyable to many but I just feel so relieved at the sight of it - this was where I studied and more importantly, where I gained so much knowledge.  It was where I crammed Chemistry experiments in fear of my fate the next day of exams, where I solved math equations and felt so in tune with the numbers in my head, and where I slipped in a 10 minute nap on the bed when I thought I couldn't take anymore studying.  This was the place I succeeded in reaching for the stars, fell a thousand miles, hit the ground, rolled in the dirt, got up, and said, "This time, I'm going for the moon."

The master bedroom has that smell to it that just spells HOME.  I remember the fuzzy carpet between my toes, the bathroom that uses the bath tub as its makeshift sink because we never got around to fixing it, the office chair I used to twirl in as my parents and I munched on peanuts while watching our favourite chinese drama series.  I remember stubbing my toe on papa's loud speakers flanked by bookshelves on the floor, the mirror of the dresser I stared at time and time again when mommy used to dry my long hair, and the coat rack that used to shield my violin case a very very very long time ago.

All of this feels so real and tangible.  In two weeks, it truly will be.

Will it be how I pictured it? We shall see.

I miss this. And I love you both very very dearly :)

*

There are many things running through my head right now and the above are among the many things dancing in my head.  There are some stories that are best left uncommented on and for the reader to draw his or her own lines to.  Some stories are best explained unexplained.  And this is one of them.  I didn't think I could end this blog post without thoroughly going through this weird mixed feeling but after writing this much, I just think I can.

(:

I love you.
Who?
All of you.

Chapter 5

 I've always liked the idea of making your own conclusions and interpretations because three people can look at a wooden pencil and come up with three very different opinions about it and I bet it's pretty much the same with this exchange student program.  In the beginning, there were 49 students having the same destination - the US of A.  But in three weeks or less, we shall return to our homeland and have successfully reached our destination.  Nevertheless, along our climb, all of us saw, heard, smelt, tasted, and felt many different things.  And that, I can simply say, is the beauty of it all.

May 5th 2011, Thursday

It's always comforting to know that however far you've went, you should never forget home and more importantly, the people.

THE WIND

 The angelic voice of the choir filled the air of the old village house.  The frail armchair stood in a corner beside the glass cabinet filled with black and white photographs of a happy family.  In one of the frames, it displayed a portrait of a serious-looking man with wrinkles – signs of the breadwinner of the family and not forgetting that slight twinkle in his beady eyes as he stared back at you.  In that same room, in an open coffin, lay the very same man.  Perhaps with a peaceful look on his face and if you looked long enough, you might have presumed that he was smiling.  Amidst the sorrow and smell of death, was a little girl having a pillow fight in the adjacent room.

 Andrea was probably 5 years old when her grandfather died and perhaps because she was so young, she didn’t really comprehend the sadness in everyone’s faces.

 “Brothers and sisters, as we remember Francis Wong as a loving son, brother, father, uncle and grandfather…” Andrea heard the faint voice of the priest from the other room.  She blinked vigorously and wondered if she could recall the last time she spent with her grandpa.

*

 She put her arms above her head and did a little twirl as graceful as she was able to move.  In the small space of the village house where her grandparents stayed, Andrea treated it as her canvas to paint any picture she wanted.  Currently, she was pretending to be a ballerina – treating the rattan-made armchair as her bar and made big dramatic gestures with her arms.  Beside her, Cavin, her cousin charges away with a plastic sword and fights bravely as the world depended on it.

 “Okay, so I am a ballerina that is caught by someone and you have to save me,” the little girl said with a slightly bossy tone.

 Cavin nodded and the two little toddlers went into their little battle as they discreetly rolled under the chairs to stay unnoticed.  Just as they were past their enemy’s fortress, a plump old lady walked slowly into the room with a bottle of vitamin Cs in hand.  Her eyes were tired but kind, her walk had a slight limp beneath the sarong wrapped around her waist, and a huge pair of spectacles sat on her small nose.

 “Ann! Vin!” the kids’ grandma echoed oblivious of the battle scene taking place.  Obediently, the kids halt their great escape and open their mouths as the frail lady pops a tablet in.

 The creaking sound of the front door drew their attention to the right as an old but strong built man entered the house.  “Kung Kung!” the kids shouted in delight as their grandfather moved slowly toward them with a smile on his face and lifted each one up on his lap.

 He took them to the beach that day in his old yet trustworthy grey car.  Andrea couldn’t remember exactly everything that took place that day but what she could remember was how much fun she and her cousin had.  They built sandcastles, played in the water, and she somehow recalled an image that would be forever imprinted in her mind – a picture of a strong built man holding the hand of a little girl.  As they soaked their feet in the water, the man was ever ready to protect the girl from strong waves hitting the shore.

*

 The waves crash into the shore as the foam bubbles into the sand.  The sun sets at a distance creating the end of a beautiful summer day.  Her hair whips behind her and her dress billows in the wind but her feet are rooted into the sand.  As she makes her way to the water, she realizes that twelve years has passed and so much has happened but she smiles knowing that despite the waves that might come, her grandfather will always be holding her hand.

May 6th 2011, Thursday

 OF CHEESE, SAND AND A LITTLE BIT OF SUN

“Are we there yet?”

I could feel the restlessness building as my siblings continue to ask for the fifth time that day.  It is a Thursday afternoon and my whole family is on the road to the Oregon Coast for the Easter break.  Amidst the excitement of seeing the sun, feeling the sand, and hearing the ocean, a 10-hour drive across four states drains our energy.  We take a pit stop at the Tillamook Cheese Factory and sample their heavenly ice cream and squeaky cheese.  The chocolate factory had an extensive range of chocolate and it would not have been a vacation at the beach without us stopping at a seafood joint.  The next thing we know, we arrive at our stay for the night – Skapoose, Oregon!

 It is 8 a.m. on a Friday morning and the chirping birds arouse me from bed.  Along with my dad and sister, we take a walk along the interesting residence of floating boathouses and are amazed at how they stay afloat.  We notice trivial details of how the houses don’t have much of a garden and how close the power circuits are to their homes.  Gleneden Beach – we see the sign and heave a sigh of relief.  It is 6 p.m. and we end the day by spending some time at the beach – just in time to catch the beautiful sunset.

 It is the eve of Easter Sunday and we start off the day with pancakes and bacon!  My siblings are at the beach even before my mom and I get there.  All of a sudden the heaps of sand are their trenches, the shovel becomes their sword, and the beach is their battle ground.  I smile at how precious a kid’s imagination can be.  We walk along the whole stretch of the beach, daring each other to scurry across the ice cold stream of water barefoot.  We fool around as we scribble in the sand, collect ‘hidden treasures’ of the seas, and make mermaid tails out of sand.  After a quick shopping spree for knick knacks, we get home just in time to dye eggs for the Easter bunny.

 I awake the next morning to the thumping sounds of the miniature drum that Uncle Johnny brought over for the trip.  The whole morning is spent with hunting for Easter eggs and some of us just lazing around and embracing the feeling of being on vacation.  In the evening, we decide to drive down to Newport and end up looking around cool toy shops and buying a toy helicopter for Nathan, my little brother.  Despite the odd Oregon weather of rain every 15 minutes, we decide to brave it out and make a bonfire as well as wave our glow sticks in the dark.  S’mores – my new all-time favorite snack!

 It is Monday and the level of excitement has gone down as the prospect of our Oregon vacation ending and a long drive home creeps at the back of our minds.  Nonetheless, we take a quick tour to the Lighthouse and coincidentally meet a guy from Libby, Montana!  My eyes widen in awe as we explore the sea life while visiting tidal pools.  The recording studio of the Christian music band, Sons of Day – our last pit stop of our vacation!

 We start out early on our journey back to Charlo, Montana as I silently bid farewell to all the sights, smells, and sounds of Oregon.  At 9 p.m., my family arrives home safely as fatigue hung distinctively in the air.  I look at my room and see Calculus homework waiting for me, an overdue Spanish quiz to be studied for, and the thought of going to school tomorrow doesn’t seem to make it any better.  Nonetheless, I shrug and smile a little thinking that maybe, just maybe… I can do this.

May 19th 2011, Thursday

First impressions also amuse me because sometimes, it's funny to look back and talk about what you thought about the person before you knew them well.

FIRST DAY

The whirring sounds of the airplane startle me from my sleep.  My friend Jake shoves the window cover up and an endless row of snow-capped mountains come to view.  I look at the majestic mountains as an image of a powdered chocolate cake comes to mind.  It is so vivid that I am almost sure I can taste it in my mouth.
 “Andrea, look at that – there’s nothing here,” Jake’s comment gets me in giggles as I wonder if he meant it in a joking manner.

 I feel the plane pick up speed beneath my feet as the sight of land dances into view.  The seatbelt sign blinks and a soft chime is heard.  My seat vibrates beneath me as we cruise through the runway.  I look around me and smile; Jake has gone back to sleep and is snoozing as peacefully as a baby, an old lady sits calmly but clenches her seat – the only sign of dishevelment, and a couple anxiously studies a travel guide as if their life depended on it.

 I step onto American soil and take a deep breath.  The smell of fresh Montana air is all I need to get my heart racing again.  Who is my host family? How do they look like? I went through the motions in a blur until I am a stone’s throw away from the arrival hall.  Immediately, I step behind Jake - afraid of what is to come.
 Almost instantly, the view of a blond-haired lady with kind eyes is all I can see as she extends her hand, “Hi, are you Andrea?” I nod sheepishly and fell her warm hand close in to mine, “My name is Marilyn Murchie and I’m your local coordinator.”  I almost don’t hear her as my curiosity of where my new family is overwhelms me.

 Then, out of nowhere, she turns her back and uncovers the faces of five eager-looking people.  An eight-year-old boy holds a tissue flower in one hand.  Beside him, two girls grinning like Cheshire cats – one with a bejeweled cap and the other clad in a mini cardigan.  At the end, I see a very young couple smiling back at me.

*

 I didn’t know if it was the twinkle in their smile, the jet lag creeping in my body or just the mere excitement of the day but at that very moment, I had a gut feeling that I had come to the right place.  And, what do you know?

I was right.

May 24th 2011, Tuesday

This is me showing you how much I like to think about the little things that come along in my life. A little cheesy but who cares? :)

 AFTER SCHOOL ESSAY

The bell rings with a deafening screech as I heave a sigh of relief.  I feel the fatigue which has built up from the events that took place throughout the day upon my shoulders as I feel a slight ache nagging my right shoulder.  With all my might, I pull my locker door open oblivious of the clanging noise and head out to the bus.  The sea of students move like one body around me; all of whom are going to their own destinations – home to feed the cows, McDonalds to get that extra cash to pay for the car, grandma’s to stay for the weekend, and the gym for track practice.

The bus door opens and a whole new world is set free.  The smell of sweat hangs in the air as I cross my fingers for an empty seat.  As I walk along the aisle that has sweet wrappers and empty bottles scattered around, I look around and find it surprisingly easy to find the similarities a school bus has to a day at the zoo – a blond-haired girl who is wearing bright pink tights that are completely soiled at the knees lies upside down in her seat, my brother, Nathan, has a lollipop hanging from his mouth as he wrestles his friend to the ground and a bespectacled boy is banging his head on the window while singing, “H-E-R-O. God is my hero!”

It is my lucky day as I find an empty seat to myself.  Plugging my earphones in immediately, my senses are numbed.  I cannot hear the screaming voices of little kids in front of me nor do I hear the bus driver’s futile attempts to get the kids to sit still.  Bruno Mars is on.

Today I don’t feel like doing anything.

“Want a Swedish fish?” my sister Kalista shoves a red sweet up my face and smiles from ear to ear.  I nod and pop it in my mouth, “Thanks”.

I just wanna lay in my bed.

I taste a piece of melted sugar – sweet, sour and maybe even a little plastic.

Don’t feel like picking up my phone so leave a message at the tone.

I hear the pitter-patter of rain dashing on the window pane and smile.  My sister, Suzanah moves her index finger gracefully over the fogged window.  With a few twirls of the finger, she writes my name in loopy handwriting and I laugh.

I step onto the rocky road heading to my driveway as my three siblings trail along behind me.  The rain has stopped.  The blades of grass billow in the wind making a soft rustling noise as I walk toward the door.  Its path has dust hovering over it.  I land my backpack with a thud on my bedroom floor as a hint of raspberry vanilla perfume I used for school still hangs in the air.  My soft bed looks so inviting for me to just give in to the temptations of sleep but I know better.  I move robotically to the bathroom with my clothes in one hand knowing well enough that I should take a shower.  They say a hot shower does the trick and sometimes, maybe they are right because nothing feels better than a hot shower.  15 minutes later, the floor creaks beneath me as I tiptoe back into my room. 

Quiet.  Too quiet.  Something is wrong. My eyes search the room and find one of my sisters engrossed with her Nintendo DS. I see two small ant-sized figures from the window – one riding a bike and the other a four wheeler, chasing each other around the field. I shake my head – it amazes me how much energy kids have.
The opened page of my Calculus book stares at me as I stare back at it.  We are playing a game.  The first person to fall asleep loses.  I shrug it off and decide to take a breather.  I motion to the piano and flip the book to Star-Spangled Banner as if I know the page by heart.  It is a simple piece and nothing two years of childhood piano lessons can’t pull off having practiced it a couple of times before.  I go with the flow and soon am lost in the realm of music – feeling my fingers around the keys and proud to have regained a rusty old skill I thought I’d never rekindle.  The national anthem becomes Silent Night and moves on to On Top of Old Smoky.  The door opens and slams as my mom stumbles through the fleet of shoes spread across the floor and kicks her sports shoes off.  She comes just in time to hear me play the last four bars of Oh! Susanna.
“So, how was your day?” she has a NAPA sweatshirt, which soon, even its bagginess won’t be able to hide her little baby bump.

I pause for a millisecond and try to recall what I did since I got on the bus home.  I laugh to myself – astounded at how MUCH had happened in just a short span of time.

“Oh, today? Today was just perfect.”

Chapter 4

I remember March and April being the prelude to hectic school days and that would probably explain my absence from the cyber world. I like how I managed to rediscover traits of myself and just me in general. It was as if I thought I knew myself inside out but I didn't. :)

Being surrounded by a relatively new world, my anxiety for the SPM results was for me to bear alone but I wouldn't have had it any other way. If I were surrounded by so many teens having the same exam woes troubling their minds, I can't imagine how hard each day would go by. Hence, as you will see, I channelled a lot of my feelings into my writing.

And of course, who could forget my joy in dance.

March 15 2011, Thursday

SELF INVENTORY POEM

I am a dreamer,
I value humility,
I write stories of what I see,
I trust the Lord,
I honor one’s dignity,
I give voice to unborn infants,
I give voice to the voiceless,
I am a constant traveler,
I choose the paths I take,
I hold family close to my heart,
I am safe as long as I have faith,
I make things happen because I can.

March 22 2011, Tuesday

LANTERN POEM

Cold
Anxious
Heart beating
I heave a sigh
Why?

PALINDROME POEM





Feet bustling loudly
With slamming lockers
Noisy rumbustious kids
INSANE

March 23rd 2011, Wednesday

MINUTE POEM

The world around me closes in
My blood is thin
Do take pity
Reality

This is what I’ve been waiting for
Hoping to soar
Will I make it?
Will my dreams fit?

I peer for a split second – YES!
I’ve done my best
Good sleep tonight
Straight As – my fight

March 28th 2011, Monday

ITALIAN SONNET




Our eyes met, I stepped onto new land
Smiles and laughter were exchanged
Something happened, something changed
A feeling inside me – nothing I planned
Of love and happiness, if you can
Imagine ups and downs – a whole range
No words can express regardless how it’s arranged
My gratitude for lending me a hand
Playing with snow at the cabin
Eating pizza and Blizzard ice cream
Exchanging jokes that were plain silly
You have never failed to make me grin
To me, we have been more than just a team
Now I have amazing people to call my family

SHAKESPEARAN SONNET

Outside my window there is a tree
Of frail branches and pretty leaves
I count the days till I can see
When the grass is green and winter leaves
For at the doorstep my sweetheart returns
A chiseled figure and tired eyes
Fighting war, like fire it burns
The unheard voice of his loved one – she cries
When will I get to see you again?
To watch you sleep and see your smile
Peace seems impossible to attain
Can I make it if what’s left is a mile?
Go! Fight for the country, my dear
But know that waiting for you, I am always here

March 17th Thursday

NONET

From the frosted window I see white
Beautiful though lacking sunlight
Snow angels and pretty flakes
Mountains like chocolate cakes
Then Mister Sun smiles
“It’s been a while.”
Have no fear
Here’s Spring,
Dear

KYRIELLE

I hear the crowd calling my name
With grace and poise but not for fame
Beaming wide and all my hair done
The dancer’s race has just begun

At center stage this is my place
Nervous – does it show in my face?
I strike a pose, ready for some fun
The dancer’s race has just begun

With all my strength I twist and turn
The ribbon flies without concern
I leap like there’s no rain - just sun
The dancer’s race has just begun

I hear the crowd calling my name
The dancer’s race has just begun

May 3rd 2011, Tuesday

LOVE FOR ICE

Empty – that was how the ice rink looked a day ago but not anymore. She took a quick glimpse at the crowd and quickly looked away – the crowd was getting bigger and you could just feel the intensity building up. Behind the casual chatter and the booming voice of the announcer welcoming the spectators, there was that odd feeling in the air – as if everyone was holding their breath in anticipation for the games to begin.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to the 2010 Winter Olympics! Let the games begin!”

As the crowd went wild, a poised girl sits quietly at the sidelines lacing her skates for the umpteenth time. It killed the nerves, she thought. She circles the rink and gracefully does a triple Lutz before her skates strike the ice again. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees her coach motioning her to come toward him. She didn’t even have to say a word. She had done this too many times that her coach’s eyes were what gave it away and she knew that…it was time.

Grabbing for her towel, she wiped her hands and patted her hair down. Dressed in a sparkly leotard and her hair pulled up in a bun, she gestured so gracefully with her hands to the judges, and then to the crowd as she skated into position. Under her breath, she utters a quick prayer. At that moment, there is no one else or nothing else that mattered. It is just her and the music and her love for it, really.

The music starts and she glides across the white floor unaware of the chanting crowd or the posters with her names on it. She pirouettes until the crowd becomes a blur, splits in the air as she catches her breath for a millisecond before landing on the ice floor and starting again. With every twirl of her arm and every flip she does, she paints the picture of her love for the sport. And to her, that is what truly matters.

And as the music ends, she flutters into an ending pose before the crowd’s jeers grow even louder than before. And as she makes her final exit, the wind whips her face and she realizes something – not the ice cold temperature she has already grown accustomed to, not the small bump she encountered seconds ago in her dance routine but the fact that she had made her dream come true. Finally, she has successfully skated in the 2010 Winter Olympics.

Chapter 3

Words have always intrigued me from the very beginning.  I haven't been doing a very good job updating the going-ons in my life - I know that.  So, instead of giving an excuse that I lacked time and internet connection (which is true by the way), I realised I wrote a good amount of stuff for my English class and no matter how much I tried not to bring too much of my every day life into my writing, it somehow ends up in my writing pieces only because I find it extremely hard to write about something I'm not passionate about.  Below is what I have written throughout the first half of the five months of school and I'm glad to see how my journey is reflected in my pieces.  For all I know, I may be the only one that can see it but I thought it was a unique way to gauge my growth. Who knows, it just might. :) Most of them are true but several of them are just topics that I've felt drawn to.  If I were you, I usually get bored reading long posts *hint* but I applaud anyone who does read it.

Well, for lack of better words, this is, again, my journey. (:

February 17th, Thursday

ROUTE 23

Cuckoo! The far cry of the rooster grows to a crescendo and there I am – a flustered-looking girl searching for directions yet clueless to where I am headed.  They say maps can show you where you want to go but I don’t think that’s the case for me.

I jump at the first person I see, “Excuse me ma’am, could you help me with –”

“Of course, just take the bus on route 23 and you’ll find what you’re looking for,” the female stranger interjects before I could finish.

“But I haven’t said where I wanted to go.”

With her smiling eyes, the dotty lady laughs heartily, “Don’t worry, dear.  You’ll figure it out soon enough.”

I am dumbfounded.  It puzzles me how enigmatic this lady is and before I know it, she disappears as quickly as lightning.  I feel the wind playing with my hair as I replay the peculiar occurrence in my head.

“Woof! Woof!”I snap out of my trail of thought just as a giant mongrel races toward me like a bullet train and licks me in the face.

“Down, boy, down!” the master’s booming voice does the trick and the dog retreats instantly.  My eyes dance at the sight before me.  I see a man in his fifties clad in quintessential horse-riding boots and a cowboy hat on his head.  His wrinkled eyes have that authoritative glare, his belly protrudes slightly, and his poised stature doesn’t give away his age at all.

“Sorry about that.  Jake has a way of greeting newcomers.  I haven’t seen you around here though,” the old man tilts his hat.

“I’m just passing through,” I smile sheepishly.

“Going somewhere?”

“Um…well…have you heard of a route 23?” I blurted.

“Oh, route 23, ay? Nice choice, though you will have to be careful.”

“Why? Do you know where does it lead to?”

“Well, I’ve been on route 23,” he sighs and leans on a lamp post, “You have to keep on thinking before you leap. People are not always as they seem.  A courageous cowboy can’t always count cows.”

“Huh?” my face shows utter confusion, “What does that mean?”

He laughs just like the previous lady, “Dear, what do you think I look like?”

“I guess you look like a cowboy.”

He shakes his head, “Nope, I am a chef.” I start to get what he means by things not being what they seem.

He smiles, “Don’t judge a book by its cover – that’s all I’m saying.  And it all depends whether you think the glass is half-empty or half-full.  Anyway, just take a left on the second block and you’ll find what you’re looking for.” As he left me thinking even more, he subsequently turns back, “Oh, and be wise in choosing your friends too,” and just like that he was gone in a flash.  As I walk on, I shrug off the many odd happenings and try to find route 23.  The more I dwell on it, the more of what the old man said seemed to make sense.  Whatever lay ahead of route 23 sounded pretty daunting.

Just as I am turning at the block, I see a little toddler playing hopscotch in reverse seeming to be as fit as a fiddle.  With a toothy grin, she says, “Hello, how’re you doing?”

“Hi, um… why are you jumping backwards?” I raise my eyebrows.

“Why not?” the cute girl retorts almost indifferently.

“Well, if you haven’t noticed, everyone else actually faces the direction they're walking,” I say haughtily.

“Oh, I know.  But it’s okay not to be like everyone else,” the girl replies.I pause.  She’s got a point, I thought, I guess I never thought of it that way.

 “So, where are you heading?” her pigtails bob like a spring.

“I’m actually looking for the bus on route 23.”

“Then you’ve come to the right place.  The bus is coming in five minutes.  Are you ready?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean do you know what to do when you get there?”

“Well, I brought hiking boots,” I say as innocent as a child.

She laughs, “No, silly.  The key is to stay true to yourself.  Just because everyone does something a certain way or judges you for acting differently, it isn’t necessarily wrong.  It’s just different.”

“Something like saying tomato and tomato differently?”

“Exactly,” she ponders at me for a full minute and smiles, “You’re ready.”

Honk! Honk! From afar, a bright yellow headlight shines as a shadow beckons toward me and I raise my hand to stop it.  The bus is here.  I take a deep breath and step on.

*

“Andrea! Wake up!”
A ray of light blinds me slightly as I try to open my eyes.  It takes a few seconds before I come to my senses.  My friend, Ahmad beams back at me, “We’re here! We’re in Montana!”  My eyes widen and they flicker toward the window of the plane.  I am struck with awe at what lies below.  A never-ending row of majestic snow-capped mountains and amazingly spacious green fields remind me of picture perfect postcard images.  As the pilot announces our arrival, I take a deep breath thinking about the dream I just had and smile.  As I hoist my backpack on my shoulders, I catch a glimpse of the person sitting in front of me wearing a cowboy hat and I wonder if it was just a trick of the light.

*

Having the courage to set foot on a foreign land without anyone to turn to is not an easy feat.  Ask any exchange student and they’ll probably know what I’m talking about.  As for me, my journey has just begun and I have realized that learning is one of the most inevitable things throughout this bus ride.  I learnt that being an ambassador of your country is not a bed of roses but then again, learning from mistakes is the spice of life.  They’ll be people who judge you or put you down but what matters, I learnt, is that you remember who you are when the road gets bumpy.  Doing something differently isn’t always wrong.  You’ll never know, I might be able to find what I’m looking for.

March 1st 2011, Tuesday

CINQUAIN

I dream

Of purple stars

Dancing in the blue rain

Why? That is just the way they are

Insane

THREE DAY JOURNAL

14th February 2011, Monday

 The day of love – today was Valentine’s Day and it amazed me to see how big of a celebration it was in America with the flowers, candy and chocolate as compared to my home in Malaysia.  So, I decided to be part of the hype by making teddy bear-shaped cards for my host family and somehow got people to send it to them at school as a surprise.
 I saw most elementary school kids wearing red but realized as they get older, high school kids become less enthusiastic about it.  I was planning on cutting down on sugar this week before the large portions of American food showed in my body size but the sight of sweets being passed around got the better of me.  The day went by quite normally and Choir class made my day with Mrs. Nelson serving us cake! During the last period, I received flowers from my host family that just made me smile.
 At night, I decided to accompany my host mom to a church meeting which turned out better than expected and I would have definitely done it again.  Not knowing what to expect, we brought some pens and a notebook but ended up not using it.  Instead, we managed to see a fire demonstration and learnt how to extinguish a fire!  We ended the day with another free piece of scrumptious cake and all was well!

15th February 2011, Tuesday

 Today I started off not as well as I hoped.  I had set my alarm for 5.30 a.m. to review a bit of Calculus but couldn’t seem to get up so I ended up snoozing till my original wake up time – 6.30 a.m.  Nonetheless, the little moments that happened throughout the day were what turned my day around.  It started out with Calculus class when Mrs. Hertz had heart-shaped frosted cookies!  My eyes lighted up and the thought that I ate WAY more in school here than I did back home made me laugh.  I wasn’t complaining.  The Calculus test results that had me pretty anxious was out and overall, I was glad with how I did in spite of what some of the other students expected of me.
 The Midterm report for my Calculus is probably on top of my list of best things that have happened so far – I managed to get 99%!  Seeing that I enjoy eating when I’m happy or need something to boost my mood when I’m upset, the chocolate cake I had during Speech class was heaven!  We were doing a maid of honor speech and I was pretty excited.  English class seemed packed with homework but at that point, nothing could bring my spirits down.
 Night was rather busy for my family as my siblings had piano lessons and my little brother was starting wrestling so even though I didn’t do much, I was glad to have tagged along.  Being as unaccustomed to snow as I was, I managed to slip on the porch and slide down three steps of stairs but strange as it might sound, it was fun!  Just before bed, I also managed to slip in some time to play the Wii – my host family’s newest addition to the long list of games they already have.

16th February 2011, Wednesday

Learning – I guess people go to school to learn but I’ve realized that if you actually opened your mind to what you can get from each day, it’s amazing how much more you can learn from the people and situations around you.  In U.S. History class, I managed to get five points extra credit for my handwriting which was interesting because I couldn’t imagine my school in Malaysia doing that.  For some strange reason, I was rather hungry for lunch and the classes after that were rather empty because everyone was either at the Math Meet or preparing for the carnival.

The major attraction for the carnival was probably the Pie in the Face game whereby people could just throw pies at people’s faces.  It’s scary to think that people enjoy that idea but they really did. Overall, I had a blast helping out at the carnival for the Bingo game but it really burned me out by 8 p.m. and my stomach kept on grumbling for skipping dinner.  I was delighted to find that there was relatively no homework because I could not imagine myself completing them.  After a quick sandwich and a shower, I decided to call it a night – excited for what was in store the next day.

March 10th 2011, Thursday

HAIKU

It's warm where I am,

Of hope and love around me,

Like spring; flowers bloom

Bright - I see the light,

Before you take me, mom, know

That I love you so

TANKA

Graceful like a swan,

The paintbrush swirls and dances

On the canvas floor,

Unknown, the story begins,

The story of a painter.

March 15th 2011, Tuesday

SEDOKA

Picture you and me,
When I’d be king, you’d be queen,
Laughing at ourselves,
Dancing in the moonlit sky,
Happily ever after,
For we need not say goodbye.

LIMERICK

Sitting on the old brown oak tree,
I think of ice cream and Slurpee,
Then a bird caught my eye
Waiting high in the sky
For spring and daisies – just like me!

BLUES: Always

Why do we have to live apart – why?

What is on your sweet mind, my darling?
Why didn’t I get to say goodbye?

Your smile remains in my memory,
Why did you have to leave, my darling?
The story of us is just like a tragedy

The sun setting – that’s what I see,
Do you know what jolts in me?
A picture of you and me laughing with glee

Hours turn to hours, days into days,
Nothing expresses how I feel – not even a phrase,
But I’ll always wait for you. Always.

Fearless

I sink into the green plush chair beneath me with my grey sweat pants, AFS t-shirt, and huge bunny bedroom slippers.  In front of me, books, a blanket, a Wii, a candle, cds, and remote controls are sprawled on the coffee table with a pillow having Patrick, the infamous starfish on it lying beneath the table - all signs of a house inhabited by kids.  The clicking sounds of my clothes hitting the walls of the dryer as it spins them run in the background.  The television plays in my parents' bedroom and a slight satisfaction creeps beneath me as I see sun rays peeping through the blinds - Yes! Summer is almost here.

*

Five months have passed.

What am I to say?
Have I changed?
Was what I had anticipated five months ago...anticipated?

I'm not sure if this might spoil whatever momentum I was building or climax I was reaching by throwing out those questions because the real truth is...I don't know.

It's almost as if all the feelings, sights, smell, taste, and sounds I might have experienced throughout my stay here have been so...STRONG that I cannot SHOW nor TELL you how it has changed me but IT HAS.  You would think that nothing is simpler than putting my thoughts to paper in black and white.  "Who is this girl who claimed power in words and now fails to express a mere feeling?" you say.  But it is...the truth and for the most of it, I feel I have grown more sincere in my words, thoughts, and actions.

*

So, this is one millionth of what I have done in the past five months.  Then again, sometimes, I feel that I can never do enough justice to how my stay here and the people around me have changed who I am.

The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

                                                         And sorry I could not travel both

                                                         And be one traveler, long I stood

                                                      And looked down one as far as I could

                                                        To where it bent in the undergrowth

            Exchange students.  What exactly enters your mind when that phrase is brought up?

            Whether you may think that being an exchange student is an exciting adventure or just a waste of time and money, I guess the only way to find out is to become one.  It’s been five months since I left the comforts of my home and half a year since I made a pivotal choice in my life.  As clichéd as it may seem, I couldn’t care less to say that exchange students always stood out among the list of things that intrigued me. But what I couldn’t foresee was that as I sit here penning this down, I am living that dream. So, allow me to share with you…my story.

            I will never forget looking out my airplane window and my friend’s comment ringing in my head, “Andrea, there’s nothing here.”

            My name is Andrea Wong and I am hosted in a small town called Charlo, Montana. Having to wake up to endless rows of snow-capped mountains and amazingly blue skies every day is just a blessing.  The start of the semester was packed with surprises as I discovered the graduating class of the high school I was attending consisted of 32 seniors.  Back home, I am an only child but here, I have three incredibly energetic siblings and one baby brother on the way!

            These six months can be best compared to a roller coaster.  If you even blinked, the ride would already be close to over.  In a small school like Charlo, everyone knew me before I knew them and I was touched by their hospitality and sincerity.  I am taking US History, Calculus, Spanish, Speech, English, Choir, and Art ranging from Sophomore to Senior classes.  Mr. G, my English teacher would be the most extraordinary teacher I’ve ever met serving pizza every week and jokingly mistaking my country for Japan.  My greatest achievement would be acquiring a 99% grade in my Calculus class and continuing to show them what Malaysians are capable of!  Prom proved to be memorable as I was asked by a Brazilian exchange student who went on to win Prom King.

            Joining Track and Field was intense because of how athletic almost all of the kids are but I have learnt so much from it.  I may be tracking behind them but my friends never put me down but helped me up with words of encouragement which when I come to think of it, was probably why I stayed in the sport.  New experiences were inevitable as I sang in Malay for my high school play as well as acted in a Missoula Children’s Theatre play.  Apart from volunteering at church and concession stands, it was such an adventure when my family drove for 10 hours to the Oregon Coast for vacation and going to the Silverwood Theme Park in Idaho twice!

            Above all, I think what all experiences can never beat are the lifelong relationships forged along the way.  Words cannot express how the littlest moments spent with my host family has made me grow and mature even more than any book or class could ever teach me.  After five months of this life-changing experience, I can tell you that I have lost opportunities – days when I miss family and home, scholarship interviews I was unable to attend, and events at home I couldn’t attend.  Nevertheless, in regard to those who might have had doubts in taking my path, for everything you have missed, you have gained something else, and for everything you gain, you lose something else.  Throughout this short time period, I have learnt so much more about myself, I have fallen and have gotten back up, I have found the moments of happiness many of us are just too busy to notice, I learnt how to find the sun on a rainy day, I have gotten a baby brother that is coming in October, and ultimately, I have discovered that people from another part of the world are not so different and a little unity is not as hard to attain after all.

                                                     I shall be telling this with a sigh

                                                  Somewhere ages and ages hence:

                                                Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-

                                                    I took the one less traveled by,

                                                And that has made all the difference.

*

One more month and what is left? I do not know.  But what I do know is that there is nothing else to lose when I strive to be

FEARLESS

Oh yeah. (: