D:

My dad found an offer for SGD50 air ticket to Sweden so he basically marched the entire family down to Jonkoping to make sure I'm not dead.

Jonkoping was this ghetto place with dirt-smeared pastel yellow walls and poorly laid concrete lanes.

I was posted to Delta House, and had a room on the 5th floor with a window (basically a square cut-out on a solid cement wall) overlooking a construction site. The scaffolding lies less than a metre away, and I was breathing in all the musty brown smells of ground and cement.

Next to my room was the common kitchen. There were a couple of tall and big-sized angmohs stirring beer in a huge metal basin over a slow fire. They didn't look at me. I'm a new inhabitant. They don't know me. I'm shy.

My dad was furious to see the living conditions. He insisted that I be posted to Grashagen instead, where there are rooms suitable for family units. We are gonna stay with you. We insist.

I met Waileng on the street so we went to a hawker centre because she was craving for 酿豆腐.

[How much of this reflects reality, I don't know. But it's been a while since I've had one without fantastical elements o.o think this Sweden thing is taking over my mind.]