It's funny that I have one or two flashbub memories of my days in kindergarten, like the time when I swallowed a hard round candy and I choked hard while walking down the stairs with a line of kids. I panicked a little, but I squeezed my throat to push the candy up to my mouth. I think no one noticed it.
One thing that stuck in my head is when I stayed back in Tze Yu Kindergarten school for the first time. I was 5 or 6 years old and I was surprised when my Mom got off her white car one afternoon. I thought I was to get into the car while suddenly one of my teachers caught me by my right shoulder. My mom handed her a bag of clothes. Question marks floated in my head and I didn't pay attention to the adults talking, for I was too psyched to get back home. Mom then told me to get out of the car and follow the teacher back into the school.
Tears trickled from my eyes. I watched helplessly as Mom drove off. The teacher in a red and white uniform shirt and a matching skirt led me to the classroom where lunch was served. A number of kids were already in their casual clothes; they were sitting at desks like trained dogs. The teacher gently told me to change into the clothes Mom brought for me. Still hiccuping, I took the bag from the teacher's hands and went to nearest washroom.
I continually cried, even during lunch time and nap time. I remember that I didn't finish the food on the blue tray. The veggies and the fish that laid before me made me miss Mom's cooking. I wished I can steal my teacher's Nokia phone and call Mom to pick me up so that I can gobble up her homemade fish fillets and gulp up her chicken soup.
During nap period, I was the only sobbing brat in the gigantic hall. The other kids were already snuggled up in thin, towel-like blankets. My teacher wore a smile as she tucked me in. The mattress was a little hard, but I still couldn't stop thinking of seeing my mother. "Look at your classmates, Michele! They're not crying." she said, gesturing one hand at the kids surrounding me who were sleeping like logs. More like angels. "Close your eyes and your mother will come, okay?" she whispered to my ear. The crying that seemed to last about an hour or so suddenly diminished. I let out a yawn and slowly dozed off. From that day onwards, I began to adapt in the after school schedule of eating lunch and napping.
