I can still remember how I felt the day before I boarded an airplane for the first time (first class! And I spilt the complimentary drink the moment I sat down), how exciting I was, to the point that it was nauseating, and how it seemed like only a trick my parents were trying to pull on me. That was when I was about 7 or 8. There’s world beyond what I knew, and I was awed by the amazing scenery and ancient buildings in China. I also got to see and feel snow for the first time in my life, and was secretly hoping one day I can live in a place like that. Even today, even after been stuck on top of the mountain in the blizzard for 22 hours, I still find it romantic to live in a place that snows in winter. The idea of the quietness, the isolation, the loneliness, and the extremity of icy weather still fascinates me.
I remember clearly the first time I got to speak to and surround by people that looked totally like aliens, with light-colour eyeballs and hair, and they understood my English. That was in the States, and I was probably 11. (We joined an organised tour, and 9 out of 10 days we had Chinese food because the average age of our group is about 50. And not only because elderly don’t normally like trying new things, also in America there’s really not a lot of local delicacy to try anyway.) I remember trying to make a conversation with the bus driver on our way to Vegas, and a toddler on Waikiki beach tried to talk to me. The power of being able to make myself understood (which, unfortunately, I am still struggling with every single day!) planted a seed in my heart. I vowed to work and live in another country one day.
The thrill I experienced on the day that I set off all by myself to New Zealand in 2000, knowing that I was going to start a new life with a new horizon ahead and a dream-come-true, at the age of 18. Prior to that I failed the University entrance exam big time (according to family standard, but not many of them actually got to Uni level anyway), and I was considered to be the loser (probably still am). I was struggling to face my own failure (and preparing to study and repeat the whole thing again in a year time), and couldn’t figure out why my life was fucked-up and family turned their back to me the moment I failed to get into medical school. My parents were disappointed and all the relatives were laughing behind my back. (Well, to be honesty, they still think I am not good enough.)
Quite often I wonder, how I just go on whinging about how much I want to see the world and travel, is it just a dream, or can it actually come true one day. I seem to have so much in my mind, so much I want to do and achieve, but never get out and do anything except taking everything as it comes. I am full of opinions but never listen, full of criticism but never constructive. Short-tempered and bitter at times, I sit here and sulk about life but never set out a plan as how to improve it. How can I ever achieve anything if I only complain and sulk?
I want to move forward.