Odyssey
Travelling has this unspeakable, yet refreshing and wonderful effect of defrag... I mean, juggling parts of the mind around, putting some where they belong and others where they don't belong. If you don't understand what I mean, don't worry; it's just me being lunatic and stuff. Let's just say that travelling made me think a whole lot more than idling at home in Canada.
My 3-month trip to Hong Kong and Mainland China proved to be quite beneficial. It's one thing to sight-see your hometown during highschool and a totally different thing to rediscover the places, the people, and the stories behind it through the eyes of a more mature man, a 21-year-old university undergraduate.
Dad, the power drill, and Superman
When you were little boys and gals, have you ever had that feeling that your dad is the strongest and most ingenious man on Earth. Guess what? That feeling doesn't last quite as long enough as you wish it to. When I was still a naïve little toddler, I often saw my dad working and doing incredible stuff both in the grand-family-owned factory and at home. He knew all the machines - their names, their functions, and at least roughly how to use them - and he was a great repairman and a pretty skilled carpenter. Whatever is broken at home, if you can name it, he can fix it - at least that's how things looked to me back then.
So there was this one time where dad was doing his magic again, drilling holes into the cement walls of our little 700' flat in Hong Kong. It looked like a real feat: the sofas were pushed aside to make a clearing where we needed to drill holes, the broom was brought hanby, and precise crosshairs were drawn onto the wall. My dad double-checked the drill and inserted the drill bit. It was a kind of drill bit that I have never seen before, one used to drill hard material like cement and bricks, with a metallic beak instead of a cone tip. Dad firmly fixed the mesh onto the drill, and triggered it a few times to check for proper axle alignment then, with a confident grip, started to drill the holes on the wall, 1... 2... Then dad saw my awed expression and said "Why don't you try?" I was reluctant at first because the power drill looked so big and heavy; my hand could not cover the handle well. Anyway, I took the drill in my hands and triggered it, but it rev'ed up too rapidly for me. The high-pitched grinding sound and the vibration on my hand was unbearable. So I handed the drill back to dad as soon as possible. Dad took it back with a little smirk and continued with his work, still with a firm grip and a confident stare. So for the rest of the exercise, I was just sitting there with my jaws open, looking at the drill mesh hammering on the wall, sending bits of cement and dust flying off. The noise of the drill, the cracking of the wall, and the tickling sound of the cement morsels as they collide with the floor... The whole scenery was so exciting to the eyes of the child that it certainly was no less inspiring than the furious Niagara falls. I only wish that I could make a record of drilling exercise with slow motion shots "à la John Woo" and Dolby Digital 6.1 surround. Anyway, when the little renovation work was done, I was convinced that dad is invincible, like Superman, and said "Wow, dad, you're incredible." And dad's simple answer was "Silly son, when you're grown up, you'll look at things differently. Dad will only seem to you weak and helpless." I, being impressed and all that, did not believe him; and I told myself that Dad will always be my Superman.
And so flew past some 60 joyful and peaceful springs, summers, falls, and winters. I'm now 21 and I travelled back to Hong Kong for a summer job. Dad's hair has turned whiter, almost silver now. His skin has hardened and his beer belly from the prime years has shrunk. And most of all, he now has bursitis in the right shoulder, a natural alarm that tells any Superman of age 50 and over, that retirement is just around the corner. Now my dad can't properly enjoy a game of tennis because his shoulder hurts too much to serve a ball. He already had bursitis in the left shoulder 2 years ago, so this time it's really the second alarm. Dad now has to take pills and rely on some physio-therapy to relieve the pain. And then, there is this other factor from schooling; it just so happens that I realize I know more English, more math, more about anything academic, and more about computers than he does. Does it make him useless? Not quite, he still cooks way better than I do, and when it comes to renovation, he's still the man of the house, plus he knows how to do business. However, he certainly no longer look as invincible as he did 15 years ago. A Superman who cannot serve a ball at tennis, much less stop a meteor from crashing into Manhattan... This is when I wonder, if I ever have children, what would I tell them about my apparent invincibility, and then about the tall building that their grandpa stopped from tilting over.
- SwordAngel
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