We were in Belgium more than a month ago. It was cool in Ghent, our hotel was cool. So were the artworks in the walls in our lodgings in Brussels. The days were short and I forgot socks and tights for the little one which made us walk the length of the streets looking for socks and tights shops. Which reminds me that we should now consume the chocolates purchased at the time.
The essence of travel is observation. It's hard to walk pass thoroughfares. But there's always something new to learn. Leaving the confines of school in the nineties and working in a different country, even with contemporaries who finished the same tertiary education, was such an eye-opener on schools and upbringing. I couldn't relate to the colleagues and roommates. We had the same degrees and yet something's amiss. I gravitated towards the libraries, in those days, 19 years ago in Singapore just to trawl the web. Or just to read books.
I didn't know what the roommates liked doing -- small talk? Until now, I reckon it's still talking about nothing and everything -- discussing about investments? Boyfriends?
It's hard to relate from my end, it's even harder with people from other cultures. From those who have not seen and experienced the epitome of slums, the gap is wider. What I've noticed is that in RP, the lower your income, the more obsequious you are to the higher strata of society. In the British isles, it's more even-toned. The workers need not fear raising their voices.
But then all these gaps in work ethic, culture shifts, generational trends, don't really change the quest for our pursuits. Others like to collect shoes or bags, I still enjoy writing.
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