Not -So-Flat Life

This is my last night here at Senghennydd Court. It doesn't really sadden me, except that I'm the only one left here. My four flatmates have either gone home or moved to their new rented houses. Early this evening, I helped Y, my Chinese flatmate, move her stuff to her new place at Minister Street, just two blocks away from Lidl.

Y kept telling me this evening as we walked to her new house that she feels really sad to leave the flat. The rest of us feel the same way. We were at the kitchen last week and all of us kept saying we will miss the kitchen, we will miss the flat. It has been nine fun months with four other people who come from different backgrounds, with their own particular quirks, and their own unique personalities. I'm impressed that we've bonded quite well despite the many barriers that we have had to hurdle, cultural, being the most important one. And so we had three separate Christmas dinners of British, Chinese and Filipino cuisine, and not to mention an Indian night just after the start of the semester. It had been truly a wonderful experience living with these women and men who have become good friends.



We've spent so much time together in the kitchen: cooking, eating, watching the telly, chatting, arguing. It was where we revealed who we are and where we come from. One evening many months ago, we were watching an animal program that featured a squirrel-like animal now considered an endangered species. P, my Chinese flatmate came in and asked what the show was about. H, my Welsh flatmate, explained that it's about this endangered species that can be found in Wales (I think). P suddenly said, 'Oh, I'm thinking of how to cook that animal just as I'm watching it now'. I nearly fell from my seat and laughed out loud. H then said that the Brits are rather fond of animals, especially those furry and cuddly ones. Talk about cultural differences!

While packing my stuff in the kitchen this evening, I noticed that the only surviving African Violet leaf that I got from Bute library has grown three new small leaves! I called Y and showed it to her and she got excited as well. I had been terribly busy the last few days I never noticed the new shoot of leaves. I never really thought I'd be able to nurture Vicky successfully because it is my first time to grow African violets, which are known to be a delicate species. Right, call me weird but I've decided to name my plants to amuse myself and just to have someone - something - to talk to in times of frustration or extreme joy. I have Pinky, my dark pink crab cactus, and Chicky, my yellow geranium (I'm not really sure if it's a geranium). They have brightened up our kitchen the last few months, cheerful listeners of our amusing conversations. Being delicate as she is, I have put Vicky in my room, making sure she was warm and dry enough to live long enough to bloom.



At 10:30 this evening, I saw off Y at the main door of our flat. We hugged each other and I saw she was fighting back tears. Away from home at 25, I knew how she felt at that moment. I promised to visit her tomorrow after I'm done moving my things to my new house.

Back in the kitchen, I packed Vicky, Pinky and Chicky in a wide carrier bag ready for tomorrow's move. I suddenly became keenly aware that I'm the only one in the flat: no sound of banging doors from P, no sound of Radio 4 from H, no sound of loud online chats from Y. But then I looked once more at Vicky's new leaves and I felt I had some company, albeit a silent one. Life is always about moving on: to a new place, to a new job, to a new relationship. It is certainly unsettling. But what gives me hope is the thought that in the end, the experience has enriched me. I can only choose to be grateful despite the pain of leaving, despite the fear of starting all over again.