Visitation Weekend
My father recently took a break off his job to go check up on all his family. He gets 5 days off each month or so, and since he hasn't taken any days off for the past year or so, he's accumulated a bunch of off days...so he took seven of them and came gallivanting here for a breath of fresh air (comparatively; the haze here is nothing to what's in the Big S) and a bit of a break.
He naturally looked me up; in fact I was told about it by everybody else in the family until I had his travelling plans firmly engraved in my memory, and so I arranged for transport and dinner. Well, to be honest all I actually did was ask a couple of his friends to go pick him up from the bus station.
There's not much I can say about the weekend with my father that would be of interest to anyone outside the family, so I won't say much except that we spent a few nights of quality time together, gossiping about the lecturers (the age of the College can be gauged from the fact that my father's lecturers teach me), and pretty much catching up in every area of possible interest to him.
He, of course, didn't forget to ask if I was currently embroiled in a raging love affair. I'd been expecting that, of course, and truthfully said no, upon which he elicited a promise that I've made over and over again to tell him and my mother if and when I obtained a girlfriend. (The if was mine, the when his.)
He also delivered me a package of food from my grandfather (he'd been staying there before coming up to KL), and...well, what does one expect when receiving packages of food from an orchard? Fruits, correct? Well, that was partly correct. The packages did contain a kilo or so of dragon's-eyes and duku, which my grandfather planted. Those were extremely sweet and juicy, as I know to my cost: some of the sap got onto my shirt, and it's proven impossible to remove short of bleaching. Those were finished in a day or so, since we were eating them with my father's friends (he was living with them) and their kids have voracious appetites for all things sweet.
I only discovered upon arrival at my hostel room last night that the other package was full of Oreos, mini cupcakes, and mooncakes. The Chinese Mooncake Festival just occurred, and my grandfather, being thoroughly Chinese, didn't forget it. (I did.) It so happens that my father arrived on the night of the Festival and so got stuck in an amazing jam all the way to dinner, which just goes to show that the best-laid plans of mice and men...... (He had planned his arrival time at the time which he thought the roads would be least jammed.)
My father should, by now, be safely back in the Big S, along with all his luggage. My kid siblings have obviously begun missing Malaysia, and sent requests for frozen bread+milk, hot chocolate, and various other foodstuffs for my father to purchase. Consequently we spent an hour or so shopping for the oddest amalgamation of frozen and dried food you ever saw in a supermarket trolley: spices and curries, bread+milk, hot chocolate, tea bags, and I don't remember what else.
According to everybody who saw us then, I was grinning like a fool all the time. And why not? It's been long since I last saw another member of my immediate family; and my father is, when the mood takes him, very charismatic. Like me, he's a Choleric (in fact the Choleric streak runs through both sides of my family), so he pretty much dominates his surroundings. Very useful when it's in your advantage, you know.
But this post is going to make me look much too sentimental, I just know it. I can almost see the readers arching their eyebrows. But well, my exams begin tomorrow and I need the destressing. Of course, it's English tomorrow so it doesn't really count.
Just a final note. My kid brother is showing great potential for political power. Remember the English teacher who hates him for showing her mistakes up? Well, it turns out that her teaching methods make her most amazingly unpopular in school, and when Teachers' Day came by, she got nothing from the students while the other teachers' desks began to steadily overflow with flowers, chocolates, well-wishes, etc. My kid brother phoned home (don't ask me how) and got my mother to send him flowers.
He then proceeded to run four storeys upstairs, grasping those flowers (he specifically asked for an elaborate arrangement) and burst into the staff room with a great deal of melodrama. The only thing missing would have been a drum roll and trumpets proclaiming his arrival. He walked to the English teacher and gave her the flowers with a huge grin. (My brother's huge grins are capable of hiding almost any fault no matter how large, except to the wary viewer.) Her response was that she was very, very touched, and she's stopped persecuting him. In fact if the reports are to be believed he's her pet pupil now.
Not to mention that his status has been elevated yet again, and now his classmates see him as the English Professor. At least he shows a proper judgment of his abilities: he told them the real English Professor hadn't shown up yet! And that person, of course, is... no, modesty prevents me from going on.
I think I'm going to find him up on a poster one day with Vote For Me scribbled on it in an elaborate arrangement.
He naturally looked me up; in fact I was told about it by everybody else in the family until I had his travelling plans firmly engraved in my memory, and so I arranged for transport and dinner. Well, to be honest all I actually did was ask a couple of his friends to go pick him up from the bus station.
There's not much I can say about the weekend with my father that would be of interest to anyone outside the family, so I won't say much except that we spent a few nights of quality time together, gossiping about the lecturers (the age of the College can be gauged from the fact that my father's lecturers teach me), and pretty much catching up in every area of possible interest to him.
He, of course, didn't forget to ask if I was currently embroiled in a raging love affair. I'd been expecting that, of course, and truthfully said no, upon which he elicited a promise that I've made over and over again to tell him and my mother if and when I obtained a girlfriend. (The if was mine, the when his.)
He also delivered me a package of food from my grandfather (he'd been staying there before coming up to KL), and...well, what does one expect when receiving packages of food from an orchard? Fruits, correct? Well, that was partly correct. The packages did contain a kilo or so of dragon's-eyes and duku, which my grandfather planted. Those were extremely sweet and juicy, as I know to my cost: some of the sap got onto my shirt, and it's proven impossible to remove short of bleaching. Those were finished in a day or so, since we were eating them with my father's friends (he was living with them) and their kids have voracious appetites for all things sweet.
I only discovered upon arrival at my hostel room last night that the other package was full of Oreos, mini cupcakes, and mooncakes. The Chinese Mooncake Festival just occurred, and my grandfather, being thoroughly Chinese, didn't forget it. (I did.) It so happens that my father arrived on the night of the Festival and so got stuck in an amazing jam all the way to dinner, which just goes to show that the best-laid plans of mice and men...... (He had planned his arrival time at the time which he thought the roads would be least jammed.)
My father should, by now, be safely back in the Big S, along with all his luggage. My kid siblings have obviously begun missing Malaysia, and sent requests for frozen bread+milk, hot chocolate, and various other foodstuffs for my father to purchase. Consequently we spent an hour or so shopping for the oddest amalgamation of frozen and dried food you ever saw in a supermarket trolley: spices and curries, bread+milk, hot chocolate, tea bags, and I don't remember what else.
According to everybody who saw us then, I was grinning like a fool all the time. And why not? It's been long since I last saw another member of my immediate family; and my father is, when the mood takes him, very charismatic. Like me, he's a Choleric (in fact the Choleric streak runs through both sides of my family), so he pretty much dominates his surroundings. Very useful when it's in your advantage, you know.
But this post is going to make me look much too sentimental, I just know it. I can almost see the readers arching their eyebrows. But well, my exams begin tomorrow and I need the destressing. Of course, it's English tomorrow so it doesn't really count.
Just a final note. My kid brother is showing great potential for political power. Remember the English teacher who hates him for showing her mistakes up? Well, it turns out that her teaching methods make her most amazingly unpopular in school, and when Teachers' Day came by, she got nothing from the students while the other teachers' desks began to steadily overflow with flowers, chocolates, well-wishes, etc. My kid brother phoned home (don't ask me how) and got my mother to send him flowers.
He then proceeded to run four storeys upstairs, grasping those flowers (he specifically asked for an elaborate arrangement) and burst into the staff room with a great deal of melodrama. The only thing missing would have been a drum roll and trumpets proclaiming his arrival. He walked to the English teacher and gave her the flowers with a huge grin. (My brother's huge grins are capable of hiding almost any fault no matter how large, except to the wary viewer.) Her response was that she was very, very touched, and she's stopped persecuting him. In fact if the reports are to be believed he's her pet pupil now.
Not to mention that his status has been elevated yet again, and now his classmates see him as the English Professor. At least he shows a proper judgment of his abilities: he told them the real English Professor hadn't shown up yet! And that person, of course, is... no, modesty prevents me from going on.
I think I'm going to find him up on a poster one day with Vote For Me scribbled on it in an elaborate arrangement.
Comments