phonecall home

snippets (translated into --some sort of-- english... i speak to mummy mainly in mandarin you see... although i am terribly rusty.)

#1

mum: "hey... i called you yesterday"

me: "yes i realised... "
(when i got home the screen on my mobile phone which was left on the dresser read --'1 missed call' -- i have a wonderful knack of being non-contactable...)

#2

me: "so what's up? what have you been up to?"
(clearly forgetting that yesterday was mummy's birthday ....oooops.)

#3

mum: "well, i'm painting all these stones and tiles and .... oh you know i've been teaching the other staff to do pottery... they are having fun... "

me: "hmm... i want to make a teapot! is the clay you use safe for making crockery mum?... i'd like to make a teapot for the flat -- we are missing one and i'd like to make a totally crazy one."

mum: "eee... hmm i need to check on that... hmm ... hey y'know, there's so many things you can do, i've been learning all these tricks and ....oh the professional potter says i've got really good hands..." (she's beaming with self pride -- i can just imagine her smiling)

me: "yes mum... you have really good hands" (just reiterating her self-praise)

mum: *giggles*

#4

me: "so how's everyone? ...gor? ...wee? ...papa?... "

mum: "oh.. y'know it was my birthday yesterday? we went to this place for dinner, it was yummy... take you there when you get back... "

me: "cool... so what did you do, did you go to work?"

mum: "well, no... i was exercising so my tummy could shrink a little..."

me: "hah ha... you are funny." (i wanted to ask if it really helped... but i suppose that would be rather naughty.)

me: "so is there anything i could get you for your birthday mummy?... paints, what about your special brushes?!..."

mum: "oh... no no no... don't bother... i can find them here... hmm my special brush... oh no... it's woncky... oh dear... it's horrendously dear..."

me: "just tell me the make of it..."

mum: "oh.. the writing is so tiny i can't read it... ahhh.. it's woncky!"

me: "why don't you ask papa to help read it to me?!"

mum: "aiyah... it's become woncky and papa is in the loo!... oh...bother..."

me: (can't help laughing... )

papa emerges from the toilet and tells me the details of this apparently exquisite paintbrush... after a quick exchange [he mentioning that i've not been blogging as much lately, and asking whether my ankle is getting better... --> hee, papa reads my silly blogs... and he reminded me that i should look after myself... ], he passed the phone back to mum... i didn't even get to ask how things are with him...

what else did i share with mum?!

-- i told her i criticised the HOME OFFICE in the Questionnaire survey distributed by the UOE... describing them as being immoral basically... and how Britain will suffer economically, intellectually, and culturally with their policies... how such exorbitant charges will 1) promote education only for the filthy rich, 2) result in an eurocentric education, and 3) encourage international talents to seek friendlier shores elsewhere....etc. i think i have never been so out-spoken before. it's shocking! but i am genuinely angry: the immigration policies here suck to the core...

-- told her i am marking essays and am planning to do a debate on what education should be about etc. in the next tutorial since the next set of lectures is on educational psychology.

-- i moaned to her about my annoyance with the bin-situation in the flat's kitchen... that i keep having to empty it because it's full and everyone else seem to love to squeeze more in despite it being stuffed FULL to the brim... trivial i know but it's nice to be able to moan to her... it's also good that she knows i am trying to keep up her cleanliness doctrine.... hahaha -- i shouldn't be so cheeky really.

-- updated her on my never-ending work/research...

etc.

random musings...
what do you chat about when you call home?.... what do your parents share with you? do you feel or find that the barriers between children and parents get broken down with age? or do cultural norms and customs dictate how communication between younger and older generation should be? why is it that in some cultures, communication seems to flow more easily across age-groups? why is it that in some cultures, communication is full of inuendos rather than being direct to the point? -- does such complexity aid society or is it merely a fitness quotient or is it a waste of time and effort in understanding others? why is it so hard for some to get to the point? or to express their thoughts? perhaps there are things that aren't meant to be discussed? why do we communicate at all?! are there better means of communication than others? do you weigh the cost of a phonecall more than the maintenance of a relationship? why don't we write letters anymore? is it too slow a process or is it reserved only for the romantics? ....etc.

posted by ~overacuppa~ on Thursday, 4 November, 2004 at 17:38 hrs