Memories and Impressions (1)

It’s natural to become quite nostalgic about one’s childhood when one ages a bit (even if it’s not like I’m very old). I had this worrying realization lately: I am starting to forget. Taking note of what childhood was like suddenly began to seem quite important.


After the real-estate craze began, developers in China focused solely on packing as many rooms as possible within their limited land, neglecting all the “human” aspect of homes. They were houses, not homes. The community that we lived in, however, was a true home. It was built before the real-estate craze, which meant that you could actually feel touches of warmness within.

Grass under a pastel-color sky along with a building visible in the background.
Our home.

There was a local kindergarten within the community, which I spent 4 years of my childhood in. These were the truly blissful, care-free days, as I simply had fun in everything.

There were also children’s entertainment facilities dotted around the community. I always played there until 9pm every night—incredibly late for a 3-years-old!

A blurry, fuzzy picture at dawn of the community, several houses lined up in the background, a path in the foreground.
It evokes a fuzzy feeling.

There was also the community primary school, which I spent 6 years in. Many stories happened during primary school. I joined the drum club and, later, the school choir. I was bullied. I had an annoying homeroom teacher for the first few years, and a more caring homeroom teacher for the later years. But all of that must be a story for another day.

The community kindergarten.
The community kindergarten.

One day, in kindergarten, one of the kids was distributing colorful lollipops. I really wanted one. However, the caretaker said, “Only those who sit upright can get one!” All the other kids immediately sat upright on their nearest chairs. I, however, had no chair to sit on. The kid began to give out the lollipops, and I was getting upset. I squatted next to an already-occupied chair, as if I was sitting on a transparent “chair.” The kid, however, stringently refused to give me the lollipop, as “You aren’t sitting upright!” I began to cry.

A balance beam that we were playing on.
We were playing.

In kindergarten, there was already this girls’ clique. Hanwen was the leader of the clique. Every time we took a break, Hanwen would shout, “Girls, assemble!”, and all the girls would immediately gather up. Lee would then say, “All boys are fools!” And all the girls would repeat, “All boys are fools!” It’s kind of funny now that I think about it—kids are such cruel creatures. It’s kind of funny now that I think about it—kids are such cruel creatures. Back then, I was so very worried about being excluded from a clique, but it seems as if the more you try, the more you get excluded. It definitely left a scar on my mind.

A room in the community kindergarten.
The memories are foggy now.

My grandparents were still living with us back then, and my grandpa would take me to kindergarten every morning at around 7:30. One day, the sky was remarkably dark, even at 7:30, almost as if it was still nighttime. I remember being confused throughout the walk to kindergarten, constantly asking questions, “Why is it still dark?”

A poster instructing kids to drink water.
“Little cup, hold both hands. Get your water, go back slow. When you drink, stay in place. Drink it all, don’t waste none.”

I was fascinated with technology from a very young age.

At 3 years old, dad bought a chubby iMac G3 from a thrift store. Later, mom told me that it took dad hours to get to and from the thrift store by subway.

Dad said that, initially, he bought the computer as a music player. Later, however, I would use it for my own purposes. I almost immediately began exploring the computer. I remember being captivated by every slight detail in the computer, like how there was a slight variation in speed when a menu popped up (a decade later, I would learn that that’s called “easing”). That was probably the origin of my passion in computer science.

A shell of a chubby, blue iMac G3.
What’s left of the iMac G3—a shell of its former existence.

My dad had an iPhone 4 back then.

Back then, we had iOS 6. I was so enthralled by the skeuomorphic user interface—everything was relatable to an object in real life. I wondered, what is that sunflower in the Photos app? What did the grass-like texture in Game Center mean? Where was the ocean waves wallpaper taken? What about the lotus one?

iOS 6's Home Screen, with applications Messages, Calendar, Photos, Camera, Videos, Maps, Weather, Passbook, Reminders, Clock, Stocks, Notes, Newsstand, iTunes, App Store, Game Center, and Settings. Phone, Mail, Safari, and Music are on the dock.
iOS 6.

I explored almost every app that was there, and the two apps that fascinated me the most was Apple Pages and iMovie. I loved making “movies” with iMovie back then, even if it was basically just putting up a template with some of my photos. Unfortunately, none of them are left now.

I also remember creating a “cookies recipe” with Apple Pages. It was very simple—I simply chose a template about cookie recipes, and edited the contents as I see fit. I remember lying on my bed with mom, and mom seemed fascinated (I didn’t know if it was real or not). Mom even suggested that we follow the recipe and make a batch of cookies ourselves, but I refused, thinking that the recipe must be fake.

The old Apple Pages user interface.
Pages.

To be continued… (Oct 27, 2024)