The World of Angy Wong

The rain subsided as we huddled inside a lobby of a deteriorated  hotel. The walls were covered with mud, bullet holes and black dust most likely from the smoke that had consumed the building weeks prior. Furniture was sparse yet there were limbs of chairs and tables randomly scattered around the room. The only light came from the setting sun which was disappearing slowly. It would not be long before we would be sitting in complete darkness listening to the sounds of gunfire and bombs which despite being quite a distance a way, still felt closer than we were comfortable.

There were six of us, though I could only make out the faces of three people – Leoma, Tracy and Aaron. We sat on two makeshift benches facing each other. None of us said a word as we waited and Leoma finally stood up and spoke, “Well, I guess I should get going now.”

All of us had been dreading this moment. The idea of losing a friend was unbearable and I could not stand the idea of her leaving alone. I immediately stood up and said, “I’m coming with you.” The rest of the group remained silent. Nobody protested or even lifted their heads to acknowledge our departure. Their guilt ate away at them but yet, they said nothing. I held Leoma’s left hand in my right and she said one final good-bye before we turned and walked towards the glass door. We heard a faint “good luck” as we exited the dilapidated building.

As we walked towards the setting sun, I noticed the sky was streaked with pink, orange and red. It was remarkable to see such beauty still present in this hub of destruction and despaire. We walked mainly in silence and suddently it  me. I became consumed with trepidation and could not focus on anything but my fear of dying. I realized the severity of my decision and the inevitable consequence.   I was not ready to die. I did not want to die. At that moment, all I wanted to do was let go of her hand and run back to the hotel as fast I could. Ironically, after days of thinking that death was imminent in the hotel, I could only see the hotel as a sanctuary in that very moment. Yet, despite my fear, I did not let go of her hand and I continued on the journey. It was Leoma that let go.

She stopped abruptly and looked at me. “Why are you coming with me? You don’t have to.”

“I know but I don’t want you to go alone.” I replied, tears forming in my eyes.

With an almost eerie calm about her, she said softly, “but they did not summon you. They summoned me. I will go alone. They want to execute only me. You had nothing to do with what I did. Go back.”

At this point, tears streamed down my eyes uncontrollably and I threw my arms around her. “But I don’t want you to die alone.”

She patted my back and said, “It’s okay. Just go back. I have to go alone.”

I pulled away from her and said, “But I will never see you again.”

“I know but maybe we will. We don’t know for sure. Please go back. Please.” With those last words she turned towards the sun which was barely visible at this point, and continued walking.

I watched her until she disappeared from my sight. When she was gone, I stood there trying to find some comfort in her peaceful demeanor when she said her final words to me. Leoma had accepted the idea of her ultimate demise and in doing so, she no longer feared dying alone.

Turning around, I walked towards the direction of which I came. By the time I arrived back the the hotel, the sun was completely gone and the moon stood in its rightful place against the velvet black night. I could see the faint outline of my companions. They had not moved as they sat motionless, staring at the ground. I took a seat next to Aaron and rest my head on his shoulder.

“I have to go tomorrow.”

I jerked my head up and looked at him. “What do you mean?”

“They sent a letter summoning me. I have to be there by May 15th.” He said calmly and showed me a piece of paper he was holding the whole time.

“But you can’t! You didn’t do anything. You can’t go.” I cried irrationally as I pushed the paper out of my way.

“There’s nothing I can do. If I don’t go, they’ll come here and kill us all.”

I could sense the fear in him and at that moment, I was glad for the darkness. I did not want to see the guilt-ridden faces of my companions nor the hopelessness in his eyes.

“You can’t go. I heard that they are going to give everyone who has been summoned until May 30th to report for execution. You don’t have to go tomorrow. Wait until May 30th, maybe the war would be over by then. Maybe they will be overthrown and leave by then. Please, just wait until May 30th.” I pleaded with him desperately and squeezed his hands, tears forming in my eyes.

“I can’t. I was summoned for May 15th. I can’t take that chance. It’ll be okay.” He replied, his voice cracking when he said “okay.”

“Just wait. I swear I read it somewhere. I’ll find it. Please just wait until May 30th.” I let go of his hand and ran to the other room. I knew I was lying and that there was no evidence of my words, and yet, I convinced myself to frantically search for something that transform my lie to truth. I searched through the rubble of the other room as I felt time slipping by quickly. After an immeasurable amount of time had passed, I ran back to the other room with a plan to convince Aaron to stay until May 30th. I would talk until he agreed to it. I would grab his arms and not let go until he agreed to stay.

When I returned to the lobby, he was gone.

Romantic Arrival

I went to Mexico in April with two of my best friends, Grace and Tracy. We had a fabulous time and this was the list we made up of the most memorable moments of that week:

1. “Computer Guy” dancing sexy after Mexican Michael Jackson show on the second night we were there. Grace has the last 5 seconds of it on film.
2. Raoul… specifically, Raoul taking his shirt off.
3. Tracy hitting her head on the headboard hard after she declared, “I’m tired. I’m going back to sleep…BAM!”
4. Tracy not noticing someone took Angela’s chair at Xel-Ha’s breakfast buffet even though the chair was right in front of her and she was supposed to be “watching” our stuff.
5. Tracy thinking the fire alarm was a clock after 2 days of being in our hotel room and saying there was no working clock in the room.
6. Tracy and Grace peeing in the ocean –> Tracy’s first time ever! We were so proud…
7. Tracy taking 4 Mexican “immodiums” within 8 hours of buying them.
8. Angela getting 33 mosquito bites on her leg within arriving for only 2 hours at the resort.
9. Grace confusing the someone else for the tour guide, then followed him and led us and a bunch of several other tourists to the wrong bus.
10. Xel-Ha! Angy and Grace abandoning their tubes and Angy threw-up because of the heat stroke she was getting while sitting uncomfortably on that damn tube.
11. Napping at Hammock Island at Xel-Ha. (refer to picture below)
12. Watching the last Canucks game of the season in Playa del Carm at the Tequila barrel restaurant. Canucks defeated the Avalanche 1-0!
13. Tracy and Grace getting sick for the last half of the trip. We stayed close to the washroom.
14. Tracy’s oozing ankle which turned the pillow orange.
15. Grace’s sunburnt shoulder and Tracy hitting in a lot even though in her defense, she “couldn’t help it.”
16. Tracy sporting 2 pairs of white linen pants which symbolizes that she’ll probably marry a guy with linen pants who owns a yacht.
17. “Ooot-Ooot!” – Mexican host at Sandos Caracol.
18. Aaron’s worrisomeness and leaving a message at the hotel and still wanting to call the Canadian embassy.
19. Tracy ripping off the concession guy at the airport when her sandwich cost 5 dollars but she gave him only 4 and then walked away saying, “4 dollars, okay?”

It was a GREAT trip and I think for myself, the best part (besides all our laughing and gossiping) was when we were in the Brazilian restaurant and we saw several families that obviously travelled to Mexico together. I asked Grace and Tracy if she could see our future families doing that in the future, and they both replied “yes” and it would be fun if our families did something similar. That warmed my heart and made me smile because it reconfirmed for me how deep our friendship really is and that it’s one that will last a lifetime.

I recently came across a blog that seemed to emphasize that the foundation of the blogger’s happiness is based on her net-worth. It also appears that her whole family has the same mentality though they did attempt to mask that superficial reasoning with the fact that it’s due to their positive thinking that have led them to have a great net-worth which in turn made them happy. Yet, I have a feeling that if they did not think so highly of their monetary value, they would not be as “happy” as they are. One of them even called his wife’s siblings “mediocre” on the basis that they do not have a substantial net-worth.

Reading the entry, I felt infuriated as I could see myself being categorized as “mediocre” in their eyes. Yet, I try to tell myself that their opinions really do not matter as I barely know them. This led to me thinking about the basis of how I value myself? How do I measure myself self-worth? What are the factors that make me feel like I’m a happy and fulfilled person? Is it money? Material goods? Friends? Love? Respect from others?

I think when it comes down to it, I value myself because I know that I’m a good person. I try to do what’s right in terms of my relationships with my friends and family.  I am extremely protective of my family and friends and I constantly work hard to maintain these relationships. Ultimately, my joys are only realized when people I care about can share in on them.

I also want to better the world and contribute to society. I do not dream of being a self-made millionaire nor do I want to be a person that places too much value on material items. Depending on money or things to make you happy is a recipe for disaster because there’s always going to be a part of you that is not quite fulfilled. There will always be newer items, more expensive things, and before you know it, you’re caught up with always wanting more. I make a conscious decision to not fall into that mindset because I do not want to live a life where I know I’m not entirely happy with life because there is still a lot more I can acquire. I want to know that when I die, I spent my time making a difference in people’s lives especially those who are less fortunate than I am rather than focusing on acquiring a net-worth and deluding myself that money is all that really matters and is the only factor in measuring success. Perhaps I’m idealistic and I haven’t suffered enough poverty, but from my own life experiences, I learnd early on that yes, money can help make a situation better but money does not necessarily make a person feel fulfilled.

Pause

… no matter how hard I try, it just doesn’t feel like it’s enough and I’m left feeling disappointed in nobody more so than myself.

I go through periods where I become literally obsessed with learning about a certain region in the world. Usually, Cambodia happens to be that region. There is just something about that country that tugs at my heart whenever I read about its tragic history and its daunting present. So, I came across some videos on the current sex trade in Cambodia. Please watch and hopefully, you will understand why Cambodia will always have a place in my heart.

Please visit: http://www.sayno.eu/

Polarity

In a dark restaurant that also had a movie rental section, there were three rows of tables and chairs in the middle and the video racks were located on the right side of the room. I was standing in the middle row of tables with a group of women who were lined up directly facing a string of men. Each person had a silver platter of miscellaneous food items. Mine was filled with fruit. I stared at the man across from me who had blue eyes, spiky blonde hair and an amicable demeanor. He smiled at me and said that we were paired up, but for what it was still unclear. The lines dispersed as the couples all went their separate ways except for me and my partner – he was pondering which direction to go in while I stood there awkwardly, waiting for his lead.

Suddenly, a bright flaming object near the the middle of the first row of tables erupted into a huge explosion. I ducked under the table in front of me as panic engulfs the room. People were crying and screaming as disorder ensues. The fire went out quickly though the front section of the room was in ruins and the front window was completely shattered. I was still hiding under the table unsure of what to do. I wanted to leave but I overheard others murmuring that the local Israeli mob boss was coming.

I started looking for my partner again and I see him escorting two young children and their grandparents towards an exit by the video section. I followed them and was surprised to find that the exit led to a brightly lit and extended hallway. At the end of the hallway, there was a room with the door opened. I walked towards it and the closer I got, the more I heard. My partner was accusing the young boy with the big brown eyes and the shaggy brown hair who did not look older than 9 years old of causing the explosion. Immediately, I quickened my pace and entered the room. The grandparents looked completely oblivious to the accusations and their granddaughter of about 4 years old was hugging her grandma tightly. The boy just stood there with wide eyes and remained speechless. I asked my partner – who’s eyes no longer held the friendliness it initially did upon our first meeting just fifteen minutes ago – what was going on.

He stated matter-of-factly, “This kid here is guilty of causing that explosion.”

“That’s impossible. He’s a child and they were sitting at the table on the other side of the room when it happened.” I noted.

“Well, there’s proof that his mother sent him to do it.” He said and whipped out a polaroid of a woman in her thirties in a mug shot pose.

“Certainly you can’t blame the child for his mother’s actions.” I reasoned, and I could tell that he was conflicted with what he was ordered to do and what he thought was rational.

“Think clearly for a moment.” I prodded and took a step towards him. He was silent for a few minutes but immediately snapped out of his reverie and said, “I am going to slit their throats. You can stay or you can go.”

Horror overcame me but I knew he was serious. He was a soldier and this was his order. After one last glance at the pitiable family, I ran out of the room and down the hallway. About three people were walking towards me and I screamed, “You don’t want to go in there! He’s going to murder that family!” The three others quickly turned around and followed me. As soon as I stepped foot into the video store, a man with slicked black hair, dressed in a suit and holding a machine gun bursts through the front door. He had a pair of dark shades on and was smoking a cigar. He fired a round of shots and I immediately ducked for cover. This was the Israeli mob boss that people were whispering about earlier. While taking cover behind a video rack, I wished I had left right after the explosion instead of following my partner to the murder room.

“Get me all the good movies!” The man ordered and a fellow next to me quickly started grabbing movies off the shelf. I crept around the corner to one video stand away and started grabbing DVDs off the shelf.

“Don’t worry. Only some of you will die today.” The man said with a manic smile.

As I grabbed the videos, I could only hope that I was not going to be one of those that die but my fate seemed sealed. I knew I’d eventually have to hand him the videos as he had already took notice of me and I imagined that once the exchange was made, he would shoot me right there on the spot. I remember my last thoughts were, “please don’t kill me”, as I stood up with five movies in my hand, made eye contact with the sociopath and held my breath.

I’ve been going through a quarter-life crisis recently. It began when my 16-year-old brother asked me what requirements he needed for admission into the Faculty of Science at UBC. Then, I found out that he will be learning to drive and the goal is to get his license in three months time. That’s when I knew I was getting old. I’ve always associated my brothers as being forever young but to know that one of them is approaching the age of legality made me feel like an old woman.

I should have seen it coming though. I mean, all the girls on Top Model are usually at least four years younger than me – even though they look about five years older. So, what has gotten me so frazzled about being in my mid-twenties?

I’m not entirely sure what I want to do with my life. When I was younger, I had always thought I would do something great with my life. I had a destiny and I was meant to help people, though I never figured out through what means. Now, the ideals are fading and I’m left feeling rather confused and lost about what I want.

Grad School? Research? Work? Government? Travel?

I really don’t know at this point. I can barely figure out what restaurant I want to patronize let alone what I want to do with my life. What’s the solution then? That I don’t know as well. Perhaps I’ll take Stewart’s advice and just begin to write – maybe then something will come to me even if it’s just that my writing sucks.