Autobiography (Part II) - Souvenirs d'Enfance

Living as a baby has been quite an experience, I would say, to my parents if not for me, for I had lived perhaps in complete oblivion.

My childhood days are not what anybody would expect it to be. My childhood days were rather much surrounded by sickness. I was often ill, with flu or cough. It was as if my immune system shut down while I was about three years old. Being rather a chubby boy, I ended up being extremely thin. My appetite was poor and I needed much coaxing by my patient mother before I would finally eat something. I remember that I used to despise rice, for it is tasteless. My favourite food then constitutes anything that is salty or sweet. Bitter, sour and spicy food did not come into the constitution. True enough, I had been very choosy when it came to food.

It was also a moment when I had the craving for junk food. I loved lollipops and sweets, but my mother usually refused to buy me any of those. I don't really remember if I had ever protested, but my mother's refusal didn't really seem to matter.

This was also the moment when I first tasted alcoholic drinks. I was about four then. My family was once invited to a wedding dinner, and as usual, I sat in between my parents in a baby chair. A cup of tea was served in front of me. My parents also had tea. However, eventually they ended up having a cup of liquor, too. The liquor was diluted with water and filled with ice. I was then completely oblivious to the fact that that was liquor, and thought that it was iced tea. Without my parents noticing what I was about to do (for no doubt, they thought that I grabbed my cup of tea), I took hold of my father's cup of liquor and downed half of the liquor. When my parents looked back, they saw the cup and my rather reddish face. They asked if that was liquor, and I nodded, giving a look that told them that I didn't like it. They laughed.

I entered the Canning Garden Methodist Kindergarten when I was five years old, and I clearly remember when my mother, through the recommendation of her friend, decided to send me to a nursery after kindergarten hours, because she was busy in her insurance job. I was then very attached to my mother and for the first time when the nursery teacher came to pick me up, I was rather nervous and worried (but I had a childhood friend of mine next to me, so I was quite comforted). At around 3.00 p.m. they would, according to schedule, get the children to sleep but I couldn't. Therefore, they let me out of the room doing some jigsaw puzzle work. I was only too happy when my mother finally came to pick me up at 5.00 p.m.

I became gradually unhappy to go to the nursery because I felt deprived of my mother's attention. The attention I got in the nursery wasn't the attention that I desired. There was once when I decided not to follow the nursery teacher. Instead of waiting at the waiting area, I decided to go to the playground and played on the swing. My mother was immediately notified about me being missing and she came straight to the kindergarten, only to find that I was enjoying myself on the swing. My class teacher was worried sick. Since then, my mother never wanted to send me to the nursery anymore.

At six years old, I was still in the same kindergarten. One of the most queer events that occurred was during recess time. During recess, we were all served with a plate of fried noodles, but the teacher insisted that we do not eat first until everyone got a plate. However, when everyone got a plate, we were told not to start either. To my surprise, the teacher started saying a few words and asked us to repeat what she said. I couldn't really understand the purpose of it (back then I did not really understand the meaning of "pray") but just merely followed. After a few lines, she ended with "Amen" and we did the same, and I had no idea what it meant. Little did I know that it was a prayer and that she was a Christian. However, as it was to be done everyday, naturally I memorised that prayer and treated it as a normal routine.

The most memorable moment that I could ever have is perhaps my first overseas trip. At five years old, I had the opportunity to follow my mother to Los Angeles, USA, where my aunt was, and is, living. We went there for a tour initially, and eventually we stayed over in her house. During the trip, we went to Disneyland where I was overjoyed upon meeting mascots such as Mickey Mouse and Goofy (not forgetting Donald Duck). The scenery and the setup of Disneyland were simply beyond my imagination. The technology to me was so advanced that I really wished that I hadn't left it at all.

The next places I visited in the USA were Las Vegas and the Grand Canyon. The Grand Canyon wasn't a place to bear with easily, for it was a desert. With the scorching hot sun, we were only too happy to be able to leave the place and into Las Vegas, the city of lights and casinos. We visited one of the casinos and to me the machines inside were like toys to me. There were big ones and some small ones. I saw some people pulling down some sort of handles and saw money coming down. I was immensely surprised by that and I couldn't help pulling one of those handles, too, much to my mother's horror. I didn't realise that somebody was playing on one of those machines, and I just pulled the handle! Still, lucky him (or lucky me), he almost hit the jackpot.

To be continued...