Early Memories

I went to a semi-posh Catholic preschool because my cousins, whose father was a doctor, were already enrolled, thus paving the way for humble-beginnings me to get in. The only excessive thing about private school was having to wear white pinafore aprons over our clothes. What's the point of being fashionable when we had to cover it up? On gym days, we had ugly yellow sweatsuits (same for boys and girls) that made me feel like a boy. The Hong Kong preschool system is broken down into 3 years, in my head they are called "bb class, middle class, and high class". I began at age 2 and left at age 4, so I did not get to do my last year there. Here are some scenes from the first two years.

We had monthly birthday parties in which a giant cake represented the birthday cake for all of the kids born in that month. I remember these cakes as being extremely plain and boring, dotted sparsely around the edges with an incomprehensible blob of whipped cream. The candles were also strangely tall. They made the birthday kids stand with the cake in front of the class while the rest of the class sang to us. It was awkward yet made me feel special.

Every day we would get an afternoon snack. We would first have to pray (I probably mumbled things when we were supposed to be repeating whatever our teachers or the nuns were saying to us) and then our snacks would arrive. I recall absolutely dreading the days we got banana cake, because I did not understand the little black speckles in the cake. Bananas were yellow, why did my cake look diseased? Gross.

My most traumatic memory occurred after getting sick one time. I had missed an assignment, so upon my return, my teacher assigned my peer to teach me how to complete the assignment. It involved drawing bubbles on a sheet of paper that depicted the ocean floor and the top of the water. Easy enough, I thought. I was using a purple ball point pen. I kept doing it wrong. It was never good enough. I have no idea what I was doing wrong, to this day. I just remember the utter frustration and determination to never get sick again because missing school blows and makes me feel inadequate.

Sometime in this year, my cousins moved and stopped taking the morning van with me to school. The first day they didn't show up, I cried my eyes out so hard that I barfed so they had to take me home and I missed school for the day. I didn't know how to deal without my older cousins - they were my best friends.

The second year I decided I'd grow my hair out because I was a girl. I definitely looked 10x better with long hair.

This year I was also struck by the German measles. The only thing I remember is the teacher lifting up the back of my shirt to check my back for red bumps. Then I was sent home.

Our class had a potluck and my mom made chicken wings. I ate so many that I barfed into my lap and my dress caught my vomit. They gave me black and white striped leggings to change into and I remember feeling like I looked hideous, like a prisoner.

We also had this competition where they taught us how to grow mung beans with cotton pads and water and gave us some beans to bring home and see how much they had grown after a week. I was embarrassed about my little sprouts and I think when we had to take a class picture I made sure to stand next to a modestly sized one so I would be associated with a bigger one than my actual sprouts.

My best friends were Priscilla and Janice. We were definitely a clique before I even knew what cliques were. Funnily our families all ended up immigrating, Priscilla to Canada and Janice to Australia. We're all in touch again via facebook and I couldn't be more thankful for technology! Although when I was younger I used to be serious penpals with Janice and I loved collecting all of her Australian stamps.

My parents like to bring up that I won some class prize both years I was in school, a prize they assumed all kids got, but was really only awarded to one or two kids all year for academic achievement. I never recall being a gunner or trying particularly hard in school. I don't even remember learning anything! My parents were "surprised" when they found out that it was a "special" prize which is endearing to me. I remember the outfit I wore the second year was hideous because it involved a lavender polo shirt and I HATE COLLARS.

One more I can muster up : during recess or gym, Priscilla and I were playing on the play structure in somewhat of a rough manner. I think we got scolded for jumping (read: free falling) down this empty shaft in the playground and the teacher warned us not to do it again. I did it anyway and we had to sit out the rest of recess. Such a bad influence I was.