I've been taking a long break from my PC because I've had trouble with my wrist/mouse hand/thumb. And it doesn't look like my wrist likes doing certain yoga poses, either, so I've been trying to avoid doing yoga poses that would put too much pressure on my wrists and I opt to do other types of exercises in the meantime (though other parts of my body enjoy some yoga stretches). Anyhow, this summer reminds me a bit of Indonesian rainy season because it's rained a lot. This is definitely the wettest summer that I've ever encountered ever since I moved to Finland (and the greyest/coldest too!). I've been forced to use my SAD lamp this week because my brain feels like hibernating already due to the lack of sunlight.
Anyway, I was doing some house chores today when I was reminded of the term "anak bawang" or "onion kid". I used to play a lot with my cousins and neighbours when I was young (back then a computer was considered a luxury, only owned by rich people and even then the computer was still so basic LOL!!!) so kids played a lot outside with other kids. The term "anak bawang" was used a lot at that time. It means someone who's given some slack in joining any game due to their (young) age/lack of comprehension of the game rules. Being "anak bawang" also means that you're at the bottom of the ladder, so usually you don't get to decide what to play because the games you master are the simpler ones, so you're mostly merely tagging along with the older kids. It's definitely not a nice feeling to be called "anak bawang" or "onion kid" because it means you're not taken seriously, though at the very least the older kids do let you join in their games. Still, when you're called "anak bawang", you can't help but to wish to grow up quickly he he he he he...
Do you have such a term when you were a child in your own country, I wonder? :-)
When I was in Elementary School and Junior High School (pre-internet/mobile phone days), on the last grade of both schools female students usually distributed a memory book (or "Buku Kenangan" in Indonesian) to her classmates to fill. The book was usually a hard-bound diary-like notebook (the size of which was usually more or like a paperback) with a cute cover and on the front page the owner of the book would write some introduction. The idea was that before the students graduated (sometimes this meant they went separate ways), they wrote down their details for the memory book owner to keep after graduation.
The classmates would then fill up the memory book with their names, address, phone numbers, hobbies, birth date, what they wanted to be when they grew up, their motto, their fave colour, etc. It could be as detailed, artistic, and colourful as they wanted it to be or it could be very plain and short (not too many details given). It was all up to the students themselves. The classmates could pick whichever page(s) they wanted to write down their details on, so one of the exciting things about getting the book back was to find out where he/she had written down their details on he he he...Another exciting thing was that if you had a crush on a boy, you could find out more about him after he filled in his details in your memory book HA HA HA HA HA...
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So the book owner usually gave the book to her BFF(s) and seatmate first and then she'd hand it over to her other classmates. Ideally the classmates took it home with them and then return it to the owner within a day or two, though sometimes the boys would forget about it and the owner had to ask them to remember to bring it back. Some boys didn't even bother taking it home, so instead they fill it up during a break and returned it immediately to the owner.
I distributed this kind of memory book in Junior High and kept it for years, though my mom has burnt a lot of my stuff after I moved to Finland. I remember some of the more artistic classmates would doodle or draw some stuff on their page. I myself loved adding colours when I filled up someone else's memory book, so I'd usually use different pens to write down my details he he he he...I'm not sure who or how the whole thing started, but I kinda like the idea of having my classmates write their own details in a memory book. Different handwritings, different styles.
Have you ever had this kind of trend back in your days? For some reason, this trend stopped altogether in High School (nobody ever gave me any memory book by then).
Sometimes love is looking at someone's eyes - a deep and searching gaze - to make sure that the other person is okay. No words necessary. Just a loving, thoughtful gaze that lets you know that the other person cares about you that much. Drops of precious love pouring over you in those extra seconds, quenching your parched heart. And all you can say is: "Thank you, thank you, thank you."
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