The summer of my sophomore year is coming to an end. On first thought, I felt like nothing has changed: travelling, coffee shops with friends, shopping, spa, facial, dinners, drinks, summer flings, etc. And I see myself complaining about how bored I am at home and that I have nothing to do with myself. Yet, there are certain things that crossed my mind, making me realize that I am no longer the child I used to be.
My cousin from Germany came back to visit us out of the blue, and surprised the heck out of everyone. The last time I saw him was more than ten years ago, when I was still in elementary school. Taking him out on a night in Saigon and sitting across him at a fancy restaurant, having a talk about career and marriages made me realize how fast time had passed by. I remembered the time when I was the little girl, always stayed at home by myself, always wishing that I had a brother to play with and to protect me. I hung on to my cousins like a puppy because they treated me like … their baby sister. I thought they were so tall, so handsome, so smart, and I looked up to them with all my heart. Now, sitting in front of me is just another average guy, with an ordinary career and an average look. I still respect them and still have the affection towards them as if they are my brothers, but the superhero-like admiration no longer exists. Suddenly, I realize, I can now stand tall up to their shoulders (with heels) and I find myself unconsciously compared them to my guys, and conclude that my guys are better (what a childish thing to do of me). I no longer seek for protection from them.
Without my job, I feel so unproductive and so out of the network. I miss my students, because teaching them gave me a feeling of being helpful, using my knowledge and skills that I have learned. In the end, I decided to come visit them one day at their Leadership Camp. When I got there, my students were sitting in groups, intensely debating about their projects and carefully listened to the counselors feedbacks later. Lunch time, they rushed through their meals and got back to their rooms to get ready for the presentation in the afternoon. My colleagues and I visited each of the team to watch their rehearsals and helped them if they needed us. Looking at these teenagers trying their best, with their accented-English, bright ideas and laughters when something funny was said reminded me of how I was six years ago. I looked up to other people the way they looked up to me now. I was asked the same questions that I myself have asked long time ago. They complimented me on my results as I admired others' results. "I heard about your university. I really want to get in there, but I heard it's really hard to get in", one of my students told me. I smiled, and told her that exactly what we, me and my colleagues, were here for, to help them get into the school they wanted to. I agreed to teach last year because I wanted the money (the wages by hour is suppper good), but I realized that not only I can support myself now, I have grown into a person that can be helpful to those younger than me, that I have something I can be proud of, and that I can accomplish more because there will always be these kids who look up to me and need my advice.
Whenever I tell people I'm going to South Africa to study this year, I receive a raise of an eyebrow and a question full of surprised: "Why South Africa?" I simply answer: "Because it looks like fun". That, indeed, was part of the reasons why I chose the country, but was neither the only nor the most important reason. I visited my parents' friend at one of the best and popular hospitals in Ho Chi Minh City this afternoon, and just looking at the place, and the people there made me feel like I did not make a wrong decision. More than often, I bury myself away in fashion blogs, in Chanel products, admiring pretty outfits and luxurious houses, and doubt myself about my own passion. But moments like these bring me back to reality, to the real me who has set the goal for my career. I want to travel, to join a non-profit organization such as Peace Corps, Doctors without Borders, Emergency, etc. and to be on field where people need me the most. I won't be able to wear True Religion jeans, DKNY tank tops, Christian Louboutin heels, or Chanel bags. I won't be on vacations at amazing resorts with beaches and pools, sipping cocktails while reading a novel. It is going to be ugly. It is going to be stressful and I will get sick of being tired. I mean, I am complaining about orgo classes and biochem right now, how can I even think of overcome those? However, somewhere deep inside me, I just can't give up on my dream yet. My mind can't see myself doing anything but that. Certain parts of my body still ache when I see all these sad and disgusting things happen in front of my eyes, and I want to be able to touch and turn those sad and disgusting things into something happy and beautiful. I want to go to South Africa and work my ass off on field and to find my passion. If I can't find my passion there, then I will have to search for another one. But I believe I will find it, no matter what.
It is already that time when my dad talks about retirement, my mom thinks about moving closer to us to "take care of the grandkids", my older sister gets ready for her wedding, and my younger sister is worried about getting into college. Even the house that I have been living in for the past 21 years, for all my life, will no longer be there when I get back one day. I still can't believe the idea that we have to move. It is not the picture of a smaller and less comfortable house that scares me. It is the fact that things that seem impossible to change actually changes that does. Look around me, now I am already a 3rd year in college, leaving home to some foreign country to find my passion, I hang out with people who makes millions of dollars per year and run their own business, I have to take care of and sign pages and pages of financial paper that worth thousands of dollars, my best friends are living with their boyfriends/girlfriends and thinking about marriage.
I am no longer the girl I used to be.
It was a blink of an eye, but it is happening. And I will have to deal with whatever comes forth, independently and with confidence.
[az]
Last day of Summer '11
