The Grace in Grace

It was my turn to get breakfast this morning. Instead of the normal toast and coffee, I decided to get something different. Not having anything in mind, I pop down to the hawker center near my place. I wanted something traditional, yet something familiar. It has been awhile since I sat foot in there; even though I pass by it almost every other day.

The morning crowd has died down a little, but yet the atmosphere of breakfast hour still lingers in the air. Walking through the crowd, I still remember familiar faces of the store owners. The same uncle that sold $1.50 chicken rice is still there (no more $1.50 though), the short uncle that sold carrot cake, the only uncle that I will buy fried kway tiao from... I didn't stay for long, I got the pan cakes and went back home to get my cellphone. Things have changed. The old market that held memories was burnt down years ago.

Something is still missing from the breakfast table. I decided to stop by the wet market near the school. It was like some memory walk as I made my way into the market. I cut through fish mongers, vegetables aunties, pork uncles and the mama shops. Familiar wet and dirty flooring, noisy dialects and steaming good food. Cruising through it eventually brought me back to those times I used to visit the wet market with my parents when I was really young.

It will either be a weekend's morning or some day when school wasn't on. I will be woken up early from bed, take my cold shower and within minutes we'll be down at the wet market. Mom would do her grocery shopping first, Dad and me would be sitting by a table. Dad would be sipping his hot kopi-o, while I drink my cold chin chow. Mom would join in later and usually we would order wanton mee for breakfast. I still remember mine would always be soup based. We'll return home at around 10a.m. Mom would get busy with the shopping she had just done, Dad would be reading his papers and I will drift into my own world.

Of course, wet market memories didn't just stay with my parents. I have a few good ones with grandma and maybe grandpa as well. Grandma would wake up really early, before day break. She say to get the best and freshiest from the wet market, we have to go early. I would push her trolley to the market, enjoying the morning breeze. I remember following grandma through the market, going to each different store to get the things she need. It's always so crowded, it's always so wet. After shopping, we would always drop by to get some soy bean milk and breakfast before heading home to unpack.

This morning as I set foot into the wet market again; flashes of memories, sights and sounds flooded my head. It all seem so familiar yet so far away. Those simple feelings would never be the same again, those food that I had wouldn't taste the same anymore. Those times we spent wouldn't come back.

As I leave the market, I wonder to myself when's the next time I'm coming back. Or should I say, when's the next time I will feel this way again?
Lunch with Rosemary (my sister), Ms Goh, Grace and Kasan was fun! Jokes and laughters all the way. I want more of such gatherings! Finally, I've gotten to speak to a few teachers other then the usual gang.

Didn't know we have one teacher here that's in national's womans' rudby team.
Didn't know that some P.E teachers here are marathon runners.
Didn't know we have one teacher here who's a trilathon racer.

Many more stories to "dig" out.