That’s what you most immediately think of when hearing about a five-week summer camp in America, the land of freedom, no less. Doubly so, as I am over half the globe from home. It really is a gift to be at the beautiful Exeter campus with diverse dorm and classmates, learning a plethora of subjects with others of similar interest. Because of that I thank my parents profusely for giving me this awesome opportunity.
Freedom, the double edged blade that threat- ens us all. Suddenly faced with an abundance of it, I was almost drunk with anticipation. Being able to go wherever we want to, whenever we want to, to do whatever we want to really is amazing.
For our language class, we started with Rus- sian, a language that quite frankly I have no idea about, especially because we have little to no real exposure at all to the country. My image of it is fuzzy, only images of a wide blanket of white stretched across the land and to quote a classmate “Tanks rolling on the snow.” Through our teacher’s passionate teaching, descriptions and thoughts on her homeland, we gained a more indepth and personal feel of Russia, which I feel is the true take- away of the Global community cluster, to change our view of the world.
In literature class, we delved deeper into the culture of Russia, from Aesop Fable-like stories that remind us of greed, to slightly more gory ones about loyalty and sacrifice, to a doctor’s humbling confession to loving a patient.
In contemporary world issues, heated debates surrounded us on one controversial subject: is it moral to kill someone to distribute his or her money? Humbling articles that document atrocities and injustices, plainly against the universal declara- tion of independence, all meant to question how we think of certain things. Friendships ruined because of heated drama filled debates on human rights,
bonds formed from study sessions that gradually turn into netflix parties.
I decided to try out crew for the first time. Though a little dull at the start, once we got onto the water it was extremely enjoyable, a small breeze hit- ting our backs, rowing further and further, drawing an arrow shaped trail along the river. It feels great, the ability to row your guts out, to push all frustra- tion onto the air, and feel refreshed afterwards.
Walks through downtown, the cute small musty stores lined along the streets, bring out the peacefulness and serenity of the town (until my friends and I come along), a perfect contrast to the hustle and bustle of Hong Kong, my home.
A dense jungle of steel and glass, summoned by the will of architects and people to build bigger, taller and better. From the top of those spires, they seem like ants, tiny creatures, hurrying around, all with a different goal, different purpose.
Just as the traffic lights go green, they surge across the yellow paved roads in a flurry of move- ment, like pent up water unleashed from the tap. Neon billboards flash in unison, almost like they are pulsing and shimmering, creating an irresistible glow. Harbour ferries glide gracefully along the water, creating a frothy trail of foam in their wake. Across the harbour during sunrise, one can see the rays of the sun bouncing upon the latticework of the interlocking metal beams and the glazed windows panes, a iridescent crystal symbol of the modern world, the face of Hong Kong.
Life in Hong Kong is so much different. Each day seems to pass so quickly, in a blur, and days seem to merge into one another without distinction. Everyone is so hurried, perhaps the lifestyle of Hong Kongers are to blame. As humans, we love to create a routine and follow it, and us even more so. Here, the days are clearly defined, memorable, clearly etched into my memory, truly enjoyable days that I will surely remember for a long time.