5.2.22.
Kids are disgusting. Where they don't even realize they're disgusting. When you're a kid, you don't understand how soap works, until you realize there's a difference before and after. Before, your hands slightly oily from everything you've touched before. And after, a new dryness to those little hands.
Teachers constantly squeezed hand-sanitizer onto themselves, onto desk surfaces. You keep going to class sick, and sit there, all dazed, waiting for the pointer to strike the 3rd line on that clock soon. Every day was the same. Recess when. Eating when. Your friends.
I remember, whenever I was so sick I couldn't think anymore, I would tell the teacher. But I'd have to really think first, because that would mean ruining my perfect attendance. Perfect attendance fucking sucks, because you'd have to be healthy for that shit. Kids get sick though. Our immune systems newly developing as we sneeze improperly into our hands, and play "Mama Mama can't you see?" like we don't require another pump of hand-sanitizer. And come home, spreading classroom diseases to the baby sister sleeping next to you.
Even if I told the teacher, they wouldn't believe me. What if I'm lying so I can go home? But who wouldn't? Want to go home? Every day is the same. And lessons are hardly interesting, save for my friends.
On days that I'm sick, my dad would drive from whatever construction job he was at and come into the nurse's office to pick me up. The school nurse was always the same and he would come to recognize her by her voice whenever she made the call to him. Eventually, she might not be able to understand what he's saying, and pass the phone to me. Or maybe my Dad requested to speak with me. My 7 year old self would get all excited to speak with my Dad over the phone. It hits different when after hours and hours of hearing your teacher talk and talk and talk. To hear your Dad ask you softly how you're doing, "If you want me to come get you, I will," he'd say. Everything would be okay. He's on his way.
I count on him. I can always count on him. I count on him in my heart today as much as I counted on him then. With my Dad, I hear his footsteps and I know it's him. He walks so heavily and uncomfortably. Like every step is an exclamation point with a greater emphasis on the long line in the exclamation point. I would hear him ask them where I am. There he is, the man I love first and most.
14 years later. I'm studying abroad. I find myself sick and isolating somewhere on the 15th floor, asking my friends to get food for me. Every meal feels like a treat. Every friend has a different food grabbing style. All of them make sure I have my fruits haha. All of them make sure I have my jellies haha. Some of them grab extra packets of Milo. Some of them grab extra packets of coffee. One person would grab me food and not tell me that it was the last time I would see them, until after I had gobbled up the meal, happily updating them how well the meal went and how I can't wait to see them after quarantine. "I'm actually flying to Vietnam in two hours but should we meet again, we must." Some of them, a yogurt, and gosh, one went out of her way to get me boba. The same girl would later give me a planner I badly needed, a planner perfect for everything important I would do for that year as a parting gift. I miss her. I miss them. Yet, one person reminded me of my Dad. LMAO.
What struck me is one certain person: My econ problem set partner. He brought me everything. He brought me every salad dressing option available and the salad. He brought me all the drinking options in case there was one I didn't like. He brought me ketchup and chili sauce. And it made me think of my Dad.
My Dad did the same. He would always do that thing where he would go to the store to get me treats when I was sick. I would ask for one type of ice cream to soothe my sore throat, but he'd bring home 3 different options, in case it wasn't what I wanted. "If anything, you get to try different things too haha." Looking back, ice cream on a sore throat is a terrible idea.
"As long as your mother thinks it's for when you're done being sick. ;)"
And so it goes. I miss my family. I get to see them within a week and I'm incredibly excited. But now, I just feel that even when I'm far from family and the love that I thought could only exist with them, I see a thousand versions of that "care" in the people here. In the way they leave me food after I've been locked up all day. Doing nothing in particular. Feeling nothing in particular, until I open the door, and food is left for me. Naina and Garima dropping off coffee packets hehe and that water kettle to help my sore throat. Naina and Nicholas putting together a heart for me to have, meters away. My forehead pressed against the edge of the door entrance, wishing to be closer to them physically and squeeze. Linh leaving me texts full of happiness and bubbles after buying me boba that I never knew I needed. And Linh that left me my first apple, it was a darn good apple that I knew I badly needed but forgot to ask for. Louis left me so much food and options. These folks. These folks are great. And I am cared for. I am fine.
Back then, my mother would overly dote on me. I'd lie in bed, dropped out for the whole day, waking up past dinner. My little self would tuck myself into bed and everything, feeling the fever like a drum. Hoping that sleep helps, and waking up worse. But there was always an invisible hand pressed against my forehead, wondering if I'm getting better at all.
In Singapore. Days before I disappear back home. Yet I'm here all alone feeling all these feelings over meals left outside my door.
Singapore, all its entrances, and ways of wrapping itself around my heart.
Best,
Ngoc
P.S. This is definitely a... family X friends episode. ;)
I'm going through my old episodes and publishing themmmm. Because I have so many half written Singapore ones. It's going to be published out of order but I'm doing my best haha.
I'm a half-ass, but when you meet me, I prove you wrong. ;)
I GIVE 100% ALWAYS.
^-^
just wow, in less than 36 hours, ill be in DC all alone. AGAIN. omg ;(( MORE ON THAT TOO SHOOT
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