Everyday, there is a particular hill that I have to conquer on my walk up to the college campus from the subway station. I have a love hate relationship with this hill. On many occasions this hill has made me late for classes. It has made me slip and slide during icy weather, and every morning, it makes me arrive at the top out of breath and gasping for air. Even though it has given me so much trouble, I’ve come to love this hill.
A third of the way up the hill is a small elementary school. In the mornings, I’m greeted by the smiling faces of children running to get to school on time. Some walk hand in hand with their friends, others race each other, and the smallest ones cling to their parents. They bring me back to memories of my own childhood. When I see these children walking to school, I remember my grandfather taking me to the small preschool in our village on his bicycle. I remember my grandfather’s strong hands lifting me up and placing me on a special seat in the front of the bicycle that he had built especially for me. I remember the sweet goodbye kisses from my grandma. Most of all, I remember the wind sweeping across my face, and the greenery of the paddy fields and rubber plantations as we made our way to school. As I travel down memory lane I eventually make it to the top of the hill. The rush of the cars at the busy intersection jars me back to reality. Leaving those beautiful memories behind, I cross the street and enter the world of academia.
The walk down the hill back home is a much more introspective one. On my solitary walks down the hill, I like to enjoy the natural beauty around me. The little tree at the foot of the hill is in full bloom during spring time, covered in white blossoms. In the summer, I try not to step on the berries that drop from the same tree and turn the concrete a murky blue. From the top of the hill, there is a beautiful view of the vast sky in between tall apartment buildings. In the fall, you can see the sun setting amidst brilliant orange hues, and a sliver of the cresent moon adorning the sky at the same time. During winter, its hard to make out the tiny stars because of all of the lights in the city, but the moon shines bright against the dark sky. In the summertime, the sky is a golden pink and it’s scattered with clouds in the evening time. Some days there is a light drizzle. I don’t mind the dampness; some days I actually enjoy it.
Even though the hill is somewhat of an obstacle, I’ve realized that it has given me much more than leg cramps and shortness of breath. It has presented me with moments of clarity, time to think, and appreciation for what is around me. In the monotony of everyday life, it has been a respite.
Polyploidy Berry 