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Right around when school started, and I was feeling somewhat depressed about it, my mom took my sister and me back to our old neighbourhood and our old school. I can't remember why, but it was kinda cool going back. Going back to Mayfield Montessori was really cool too, especially looking around and seeing how much it changed and how much has remained the same.

Signage of the school

This used to be my classroom. I think. I remember my best friend there influenced me to look under the table to look at the legs of the girls and say "leegggs!". I also was also pretty close to this filipino chinese girl in my class. Hmm... wonder if I could dig out my old photo's and scan it in.

The playground was especially fun to see. The backyard has changed a whole lot. It used to be all grassy, but now there are two buildings at the back and it's now gravel, which makes me kinda feel sad for the new students. The playground equipment though, it's the same one I grew up playing with! It's just been repainted. Back in my day (man I sound so old), the play ground equipment was white.

Actually, now that I look at the pictures, err, they have two slides now?!? I remember having to overcome my fear of the slide on the smaller one. I think. I seem to remember the two bars. Hmmm...

The PE t-shirt hasn't changed at all!

Lystra trying out her old uniform for size.

The littlest Aranal running around at Mayfield. I went to school there along with my sister and two of my cousins (who were also siblings).

After we visited the school, we went to where we used to stay, in a street called Teachers Village. When we entered the street, it struck me that the whole place seemed smaller. I should have expected it I guess. The place had changed quite a bit. The whole stretch of road had been houses once, but now there's an apartment building there. My sister also commented that there weren't anymore children playing on the road. When we lived there, the kids would come out after school there to play games of agawan base (castling) and other stuff. I wish I had taken a picture of the road.

When we passed by our old house, this was the sight that greeted us.

Our old place has fallen into disrepair. We used to rent the part of the house that was at the back. It was nice cozy for our family, and we had some fun. The owners of the house also lived at the same plot of land and there was a kid, Namor who was our childhood friend. He and his family also moved to Singapore and we met him a few times there (we once lived walking distance to each other).

In the middle of the yard, there used to be a huge tree (or maybe it just seemed huge to me when I was younger), which formed a sort of tunnel with it's branches and the wall. We rode our trikes through there and also formed a hump out of the ground.

The garden also had these flowers with a sweet nectar. My sister and my aforementioned cousins (they lived beside us) would pick these flowers and suck on the nectar but I was too afraid I guess, to take a sip. Another memory I had of the garden. Taking a bath in the rain. That was good times.

Thomas' short story also made me reminisce about the innocence of primary school. I remember Delon being mean to me when I first started school there, to the point of making me cry.

I remember Joshua Chong, real hot tempered, but he was part of my group of friends back then. His outbursts of anger in the class were legendary.

I remember the games we played at recess. Playing a fevered game of football in the porch. Hopscotch, yes, even the guys. One-leg. The last games that were played when we reached primary 6, when we knew the innocence would end when you reached secondary school, when the laughter of games being played during recess at the carpark would have to end.

I remember my teachers. I remember my discipline master, Mr. Wong, who taught me during my last years in primary school. When we took our leaving examinations, he gave us a pencil to use for the test. I remember treasuring that as a keepsake of my primary school, keeping it until secondary 1, where I lost it somehow.

Things change. We move on, even if we don't want to.