rear view mirror

going with dad on a road trip is an interesting experience. well it's not exactly a proper road trip, but still it took an entire day, and it was properly exhausting.

i was surprised when dad asked me to go along with him to visit some of his childhood friends. i've never heard him mention anything about it, i didn't think he had any childhood friends. guess i was wrong. sunday morning is a bad time to go anywhere. the horrible traffic plus a couple of wrong turns even with the assitance of a gps meant our journey had been an hour longer than planned.

away from the bustling elevated highways, onto winding country roads and miles of blue sky. as you wind down the windows, the music that the air makes as it goes past your ear, whoosh... and then you stick your arm out to try to catch it. that feeling is indescribable.

you can't help notice that suddenly everything has slowed to a crawl. pedestrians strolled at their own leisurely pace, people on bicycles seemed content as long as they were still moving. it's a subtle yet distinct way of realizing that you have arrived. sam sui, the road sign read.

many people have heard of the legacy of the sam sui women. well, this is the birth place of that legacy. there's nothing flash about this place: it's unobtrusive, austere. it begs you to go by without ever taking notice. it could have passed off as any other town if not for the road sign.

dad was one of the only people from his town who made it to a university. most of his childhood friends are business owners now. construction, building materials, machinery, and the list goes on. you could detect the slight hint of awkwardness when we first sat at the lunch table. there were periods of silence that felt a little uncomfortable for everyone.

i guess that is what happens when you haven't met in over ten years. you need a little time to get reacquainted with your old friends. as the day went on, everyone warmed up to one another. and by mid afternoon, you couldn't put a lid on the chatterbox even if you wanted to.

a visit to a brick factory owned by one of dad's friends. who knew that brick making takes such precision? from the percentages of the mixtures to the weight and dimensions of the finished product, everything had to be calculated to perfection. it was not something that could be simply achieved by manual labor: the machines made clear that point with those earth-shattering noises they made.

dinner couldn't have come sooner. everyone reminisced about the good ol' times. i didn't really understand what they said, but you could tell from their expressions that those were bittersweet experiences. all that was in my mind were the images of women in red bandannas working at construction sites. they are nowhere to be seen today. yet as i looked at the people sitting at the table, those wrinkles at the corners of their eyes and the callouses on their hands made it all too obvious that life hadn't been all smooth sailing. these are still the same honest and hardworking people from generations before.

and then there were the goodbyes. people lingered as the day faded. nobody knew when they'd meet one another again because of their demanding schedules. it was a monumental task just to get everyone together.

dad didn't say a word as we sped away, his gaze fixated on the images in the rear view mirror.


+listening to: home by dream theater