Back to School

I went to my ex-alma mater at 12pm plus earlier in search of Ms. Then, because I was supposed to hand over two photos which I won two years ago at my also now ex-Photography Club’s competition, one of which can be found here.

Stepping into my high school for the first time after we left school for almost 2 years (admittedly I did return once last year – but it did feel like it was that long), I felt completely overwhelmed all at once. Memories returned as I glanced and walked towards places of my ex-high school – the basketball court where we used to play every other evening, the jaggedly uneven grassy field where we played our simple, mindless football games, the Bilik Guru where I used to visit for a variety of reasons – from getting reprimanded to collecting our homework, and the notice board outside the Bilik Guru that lists out absent teachers and their replacements (where it was always a joy to see our Chemistry teacher absent, plus my class has NO replacement teacher because we were angels in my school’s eyes heheh). :D

Nostalgic as I was, I walked into the school compound with Andy, looked at our juniors running around haphazardly who were so young and naive – to think we were once in their shoes. Nothing has changed much – the walls were as cranky and dirty as ever, there’s a new tiny fish pond filled with gold fish near the office, the same old quotes and proverbs adorning the ceilings as we passed – yet as I reminisced all the nasty tricks we used to play as pimply teenagers and the shameless gossips we spread about our friends, I felt so.. at home.

It’s the fuzzy little feeling one feels when one enters a place so familiar yet you know you no longer belong to it. It’s like being the president of a club, and when you return to it years later and see how your juniors are running it, you feel memories deluging you of the years bygone, and the desire to return to whence it was.

Faces of teachers changed, but there were a few of the old ones that remained. FatV whom we love to hate, our slightly eccentric Pn. Kan, kind ol’ Pn. Soong..

When I couldn’t find Ms. Then, my ex-class teacher, Biology and Photography Club teacher, at the staff room, I phoned her and she asked to meet her at the canteen. As we approached and pass by my koperasi, the prefect’s room, and the notice board filled with pictures of sports events next to the sports’ store room, I realised how much I actually missed the place despite my school not having a place at all in my recent thoughts.

We walked towards the empty canteen, and headed towards the corner reserved for teachers to dine and drink. Her face lit up instantly when she saw the two of us, and after we forgo all formalities, she asked about almost everyone that she remembered – Shawn, Heng (“that Indonesian guy”), Ryui Bynn, Suet, Jessica, Kai Tzin.. etc.

One of the more hilarious conversations that you’d only understand if you are in my clique:

Ms. Then: Who is Daniel?
Andy: There.. Kong Yang [Mandarin pronunciation] ah.
Ms. Then: Er…
Me: Botak fella wan.
Ms. Then: Um…
Andy: Very dark skin like Indian wan.
Ms. Then: Erm… OH look like Jay Chou wan is it?

Sweatness.

It’s funny how she still remembers the little things we thought she wouldn’t know, some of which are not fit to be mentioned here. :) She said that our year (namely batch Form 5 2005) is the best year, even better than Jeremy’s (again reasons for unfit to be mentioned here), because.. she placed it on loyalty. Our loyalty for our school, which I’m not too sure if she did hit the right spot.

She also mentioned about the fugly school magazine our juniors did last year and re-emphasised how ours was still the best. We have all the reasons to think of our own year very highly because I believe we did the best for our school, clicked very well with our teachers (well, at least, some of them), participated actively in a myriad of activities, pioneers for stuffs like our Leo Club and the school magazine, and the list drags on.

When our beloved headmistress entered the canteen, we hurriedly made a move, mentioning that I had to meet someone at Pyramid (which was quite true), knowing that her long-windedness would keep us for an extra hour or two. We parted ways with Ms. Then outside the canteen with the usual goodbyes and keep-in-touches and happy-chinese-new-years, and there we left our visitor passes with the guard, leaving our memories and foot imprints behind, at the threshold we called our school.