Based on the format of the chapter Next in the novel Sold by Patricia McCormick.
As I walk into an alley with rundown houses, moldy walls and the smell of sewage and feces,
Looking at the puddles, cow dung and god-know-what-else on the ground to avoid dirtying my sneakers, next to
A group of people sitting on the back of a decorated truck, craning their necks to get a better look of us, next to
A little boy and a little girl jumping back and forth over a black puddle, the boy slipped and got his left foot wet, next to
An empty yellow rickshaw, next to
A cow leisurely lying in the shade of a tin roof, next to
Emulation of the chapter Everything I Need to Know in the novel Sold by Patricia McCormick.
Everything I Need to Know
Before today, mommy says, you could wear basketball shorts, run around and get as tan as a piece of burnt wood,
Now, mother says, you must wear dresses, be neat and act elegantly,
Never get your knees scraped up,
Never climb trees because you will rip your dress,
Never be too bold around boys and get too touchy-freely with them,
And never act differently around girls,
Otherwise people will think you are not normal.
The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy.
Audio-visual passage video by Gawa, Chau and Alejandro.
Soundtrack: Traditional Music of Ancient India
Artwork and narration by Chau Pham.
I have two more days. Reality still hasn’t hit me yet. It felt like yesterday when I landed in Albuquerque after a grueling six-hour flight from Boston, after a four-day orientation at a boarding school in Connecticut without any air-conditioning, after a whole day of traveling halfway across the world. I am not looking forward to the long trip home. If only Doraemon’s “Anywhere Door” really exists.
I left home on a rainy Tuesday night. I will return on a Saturday night. Hopefully it will be rainy. Living in New Mexico gives one serious appreciation for water and humidity.
My mom is very excited for me to come home. She has been counting down the days ever since I arrived in Albuquerque ten months ago. I’m sorry I’m growing up, mom. Really, I am. Life seems so much easier when you were coloring outside the lines.