Of Trees and Taramasalata
I love the smell of spring. When Hull’s not acting up of course, washing us over with the smell of Hull. A tantalizing combo of swamps, pig farms and sewers on a bad day. But today, due to the rain, it smelt… clean. Of freshly cut grass and the mountains on a cold dewy morning. (Note : Hull is flat. There are no mountains, not even a bump of higher land)
And it’s amazing how the little things you take for granted just SPRINGS up (excuse the pun) and makes you go, “Ooo…”. The little things like leaves. Leaves on trees. Something Malaysia is never short of. Here, after seeing 4 months of naked trees and depressing twigs, it’s just such a wonder to SEE nature spring back into life! (again, excuse the irresistible pun). Take the lively bunch of trees outside my hostel communal kitchen. All through winter and easter, I’ve glared at the stark naked ‘trees’, as if daring them to grow some green stuff so to qualify as an ACTUAL tree. Towards the end of Easter…things started to sprout. Little broccoli-like shoots started to push its way out of that ‘sorry excuse for a tree’. Every morning since I noticed the first green shrub, it’s been like a bonding experience. Sitting by the window every morning, scrutinizing their growth. Every few mornings, in the middle of breakfast, I’d grab a mouth-full-of-cereals Paul, push his face against the window and excitedly announce, “Look! More green! OHH They’re growing up!”.
A bit pathetic I know. But if you were here, it would’ve brought upon you the same “ooo” joy that a garden full of colourful spring flowers evoke in most people. It’s the little things.
Got the tickets to the End of Year Ball today. The queue started at about 1am the night before, with people camping outside the union (sleeping bags, mats, food and hot flasks galore!)… At 5.30am, my friends who got our tickets said it was in full swing and the queue snaked around the campus. We relieved them at 9.30am. There were about 1000 people ahead of us and another 1000 piling up behind us. At noon, deed was done and luckily, we have tickets!! It supposedly has a great line up, no food, no actual hotel venue, just a done up casino and a funfair with rides outside… 37 pounds. But heyy, it’s one of them things you DO cuz it’s the last year. Should get on to more work. The panic from the supermassive workload should hit by now. But am aching from hunching over my desk. I just wanna watch Sex in the City and curl up with more chocolates.
Had a strange dream a couple nights back. Quite haunting. I can still vividly see the outstretched hands of the countless children falling through a deep hollow tower housing people who lived under a tyrant government. I stood on the balcony that circled every floor, trying to grasp onto those little hands but couldn’t reach them. When I finally smuggled out some children I could save, the ship I was transporting them in did not leave according to schedule. It came under tense inspection by the scary secret police. Then I woke up. Quite unnerved.
Could it be a manifestation of the VTech psychopath shooting news I’ve been reading lots about? Or something more sinister… like the Taramasalata I had before going to bed. See, Taramasalata sounds really grand… like some ancient royal superfood..that can dance the salsa! The kinda dip you’d like your bag of celery to be friends with. All things good and sexy.
So during an eagerly-awaited tea break, I anxiously ripped apart the packaging and dunked my celery sticks in it and stuffed it into my face.
*munch munch munch… munch…munch…eugh*
It was rather...disappointing. Rather… Fishy.
*flip to back of box*… Ingredients : Cod Roe.
Hmm. FISH EGG. Mushed up fish eggs. Mushed up eggs of an almost-extinct fish. Dyed pink.
What a letdown. Ok, so I bought it because of the pretty colour.
IT HAD SO MUCH PROMISE… With a name like Taramasalata! It was supposed to make you.... DANCE!
Two other dreams in the past week triggered something in me. A severed memory that would not talk to me in what seemed like a familiar moment in a strange future. Memories of what you knew then confuses you because you know not what’s yet to come. There’s a blurry line in those dreams and reality. And more things just seem to be triggering more thoughts in me lately. When you revisit these still-images in your mind again, it transports you back to that moment stuck in time, where feelings and memories are as fresh as before. As much as you try to avoid it, it still comes back and hits you. Leaving you stunned for a while, trying to shake it off. No matter how happy you are in the current, there is always a past to mourn for. Problem is, I didn’t let the mourning take its full course. When a wound has not been healed properly, it is so susceptible to opening up and bleeding again. Whenever you’re caught in that triggered moment, it seems like time never passed and there are still tears to be shed. My memory of a façade that I could not bring myself to or feared to read. Like a bookmark in a closed book. Closed with a cause and intention. Put on the hold shelf. Never to be collected.
And it’s amazing how the little things you take for granted just SPRINGS up (excuse the pun) and makes you go, “Ooo…”. The little things like leaves. Leaves on trees. Something Malaysia is never short of. Here, after seeing 4 months of naked trees and depressing twigs, it’s just such a wonder to SEE nature spring back into life! (again, excuse the irresistible pun). Take the lively bunch of trees outside my hostel communal kitchen. All through winter and easter, I’ve glared at the stark naked ‘trees’, as if daring them to grow some green stuff so to qualify as an ACTUAL tree. Towards the end of Easter…things started to sprout. Little broccoli-like shoots started to push its way out of that ‘sorry excuse for a tree’. Every morning since I noticed the first green shrub, it’s been like a bonding experience. Sitting by the window every morning, scrutinizing their growth. Every few mornings, in the middle of breakfast, I’d grab a mouth-full-of-cereals Paul, push his face against the window and excitedly announce, “Look! More green! OHH They’re growing up!”.
A bit pathetic I know. But if you were here, it would’ve brought upon you the same “ooo” joy that a garden full of colourful spring flowers evoke in most people. It’s the little things.
Got the tickets to the End of Year Ball today. The queue started at about 1am the night before, with people camping outside the union (sleeping bags, mats, food and hot flasks galore!)… At 5.30am, my friends who got our tickets said it was in full swing and the queue snaked around the campus. We relieved them at 9.30am. There were about 1000 people ahead of us and another 1000 piling up behind us. At noon, deed was done and luckily, we have tickets!! It supposedly has a great line up, no food, no actual hotel venue, just a done up casino and a funfair with rides outside… 37 pounds. But heyy, it’s one of them things you DO cuz it’s the last year. Should get on to more work. The panic from the supermassive workload should hit by now. But am aching from hunching over my desk. I just wanna watch Sex in the City and curl up with more chocolates.
Had a strange dream a couple nights back. Quite haunting. I can still vividly see the outstretched hands of the countless children falling through a deep hollow tower housing people who lived under a tyrant government. I stood on the balcony that circled every floor, trying to grasp onto those little hands but couldn’t reach them. When I finally smuggled out some children I could save, the ship I was transporting them in did not leave according to schedule. It came under tense inspection by the scary secret police. Then I woke up. Quite unnerved.
Could it be a manifestation of the VTech psychopath shooting news I’ve been reading lots about? Or something more sinister… like the Taramasalata I had before going to bed. See, Taramasalata sounds really grand… like some ancient royal superfood..that can dance the salsa! The kinda dip you’d like your bag of celery to be friends with. All things good and sexy.
So during an eagerly-awaited tea break, I anxiously ripped apart the packaging and dunked my celery sticks in it and stuffed it into my face.
*munch munch munch… munch…munch…eugh*
It was rather...disappointing. Rather… Fishy.
*flip to back of box*… Ingredients : Cod Roe.
Hmm. FISH EGG. Mushed up fish eggs. Mushed up eggs of an almost-extinct fish. Dyed pink.
What a letdown. Ok, so I bought it because of the pretty colour.
IT HAD SO MUCH PROMISE… With a name like Taramasalata! It was supposed to make you.... DANCE!
Two other dreams in the past week triggered something in me. A severed memory that would not talk to me in what seemed like a familiar moment in a strange future. Memories of what you knew then confuses you because you know not what’s yet to come. There’s a blurry line in those dreams and reality. And more things just seem to be triggering more thoughts in me lately. When you revisit these still-images in your mind again, it transports you back to that moment stuck in time, where feelings and memories are as fresh as before. As much as you try to avoid it, it still comes back and hits you. Leaving you stunned for a while, trying to shake it off. No matter how happy you are in the current, there is always a past to mourn for. Problem is, I didn’t let the mourning take its full course. When a wound has not been healed properly, it is so susceptible to opening up and bleeding again. Whenever you’re caught in that triggered moment, it seems like time never passed and there are still tears to be shed. My memory of a façade that I could not bring myself to or feared to read. Like a bookmark in a closed book. Closed with a cause and intention. Put on the hold shelf. Never to be collected.
posted by shuey @ 03:32
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