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Of Tikoys and Smörgåsbords

I regret not paying attention to my Chinese lessons. You see, I have spent my entire preschool and grade school days at Stella Maris Academy of Davao, where almost everyone you meet is fair-skinned, chinky-eyed, and with a surname that consists of only two to three letters.

For eight years, I have repeatedly written stroke after stroke after stroke those Chinese characters in our shadi-po. I was fluent during those times of our graded oral recitation. I sang songs in Chinese. And I knew how to pray in Chinese fairly well. But all these felt like a formidable task that I dreaded it just the same as my Math lessons.

Surviving that eight-year plight didn't mean anything though, for all I can clearly utter right now are the words wo ai ni, ni hao ma, and count from one to ten. If there's anything I knew by heart, it would be the cussing in Chinese. Haha. Well, who doesn't?


If I didn't think learning Chinese was insignificant, perhaps I would have known how to read, write, and speak in Chinese by now. With my chinita eyes, I could perhaps pass as Chinese. And if I knew how to speak it, I might even have an excuse not to work later because it's Chinese New Year. Haha.

I know it's too late for me to learn Chinese. But that doesn't mean I'm giving up my aspiration to learn a foreign language. I'm working for more than a year with a Swedish boss and I should take advantage of that. I already know a few words and I can navigate my way on websites and apps with Swedish language. So I guess, that's a start.

Anyway, for someone who's already accustomed with Chinese traditions, I am welcoming CNY with this blog. I wish everyone to have the motivation and determination to work hard (including me) for a prosperous year. Gong Xi Fa Cai! :)
Note to self.

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