I find that it times of emotional turmoil, the only thing that cheers me up even remotely are my memories of my childhood days. Granted, I didn't have the great childhood spent with many friends, eating ice-cream on the doorstep on hot days and washing the dog under the sprinkler... but I had a good, safe childhood.
One of my favourite memories, something that I was just reminded of today, was one hot African summer. All my friends had gone home for the holidays, the Shell camp was essentially dead as most families had chosen to return to their home countries while the children were out of school. For some reason which I never bothered to discover, my family opted to stay in the small, self-existing Yenzi Camp in a small country situated in the West of Africa - Gabon.
The first few days saw me sitting at the swing in the playground by my house, climbing the tree-house my neighbour's father had built or even screaming out loud as I threw myself down the Flying Fox. Thinking back on it now, it was quite a sad summer... those days spent trying to continue the games I normally played with my term-time friends, only all by myself.
The swing didn't fly as high, the tree-house didn't smell the same and the Flying Fox always left me feeling more alone than before the jump.
On one of those days, I decided to take my swimming kit out and cycled to the Club house. My mum was at home, taking care of my brother Mark, who was only a few months old at the time, and papa was at work. The clubhouse, usually filled with the sounds of children squealing, the pool water splashing, music and the smell of barbecued food, was unbearably quiet.
During the day, the adults went to work or stayed at home, and so there were only a few people sitting around the clubhouse. Some older wives at the cafe by the pool, a solitary older person swimming, and in the distance, the sound of tennis balls hitting the hard court as people practised under the searing sun.
I remember deciding it was too hot to swim. Not that I usually had a problem with the heat when I wanted to swim, but doing it alone simply did not appeal to me. So I dropped my bag off by the poolside and wandered through the almost deserted club-house.
Now, you have to imagine the club-house. It is the heart of Yenzi Camp, perhaps the only form of entertainment besides the Saturday Night barbecue at the Golf Club in the whole camp. It had restaurants, cafes, a pool, the tennis courts, a karaoke lounge, ballrooms and the such.
However, on that day, I found myself drawn to the very centre of the Clubhouse. The one section which in the future, I grew to regard as the heart and soul of Yenzi: The Library.
Yes, my friends... now you know where my love for reading was born. It was then, on that solitary summer's day that I discovered The Other World. I was never much of a reader before that point, never cared much for the dusty pages as I was always more interested in climbing trees or diving into pools and splashing through puddles filled with tadpoles.
The librarian (for the life of me, I cannot recall her name) must have taken pity on me as she struck up a conversation. I remember being shy, avoiding her eyes as I spoke... but soon, her kindly voice and her rather comforting smell (soap and clean clothes) drew me out of my shell and I became more earnest, more expressive of my emotions.
She asked me then "What do you like to read, Nabiya?"
I shrugged my then-scrawny shoulders, mumbling an incoherent reply... suddenly shy of my lack of knowledge.
"I know just the thing for you," she said, the smile on her face an image I will never forget for the rest of my living days, "It's a favourite for many girls your age, and it's a series..."
I made a face at the thought of having to endure an entire series of books. As I said, at the time I had little patience for books.
The librarian moved from behind her counter and shuffled over to the children's section. Tentatively, I followed behind her, trying to look around her generous bottom (she really does remind me of a certain Mrs. Doubtfire) at the book she was pulling out of the shelf.
"Here you go, if you don't like it you can just bring it back and I'll find you something nicer."
In her hand was the very first book in the Babysitters Club series.
I took it from her, smiled and thanked her then left the library.
Two days later, I was back and asking if I could have the next book.
There we go, my dear friends and family... that was the exact moment where I discovered The Other World.
One of my favourite memories, something that I was just reminded of today, was one hot African summer. All my friends had gone home for the holidays, the Shell camp was essentially dead as most families had chosen to return to their home countries while the children were out of school. For some reason which I never bothered to discover, my family opted to stay in the small, self-existing Yenzi Camp in a small country situated in the West of Africa - Gabon.
The first few days saw me sitting at the swing in the playground by my house, climbing the tree-house my neighbour's father had built or even screaming out loud as I threw myself down the Flying Fox. Thinking back on it now, it was quite a sad summer... those days spent trying to continue the games I normally played with my term-time friends, only all by myself.
The swing didn't fly as high, the tree-house didn't smell the same and the Flying Fox always left me feeling more alone than before the jump.
On one of those days, I decided to take my swimming kit out and cycled to the Club house. My mum was at home, taking care of my brother Mark, who was only a few months old at the time, and papa was at work. The clubhouse, usually filled with the sounds of children squealing, the pool water splashing, music and the smell of barbecued food, was unbearably quiet.
During the day, the adults went to work or stayed at home, and so there were only a few people sitting around the clubhouse. Some older wives at the cafe by the pool, a solitary older person swimming, and in the distance, the sound of tennis balls hitting the hard court as people practised under the searing sun.
I remember deciding it was too hot to swim. Not that I usually had a problem with the heat when I wanted to swim, but doing it alone simply did not appeal to me. So I dropped my bag off by the poolside and wandered through the almost deserted club-house.
Now, you have to imagine the club-house. It is the heart of Yenzi Camp, perhaps the only form of entertainment besides the Saturday Night barbecue at the Golf Club in the whole camp. It had restaurants, cafes, a pool, the tennis courts, a karaoke lounge, ballrooms and the such.
However, on that day, I found myself drawn to the very centre of the Clubhouse. The one section which in the future, I grew to regard as the heart and soul of Yenzi: The Library.
Yes, my friends... now you know where my love for reading was born. It was then, on that solitary summer's day that I discovered The Other World. I was never much of a reader before that point, never cared much for the dusty pages as I was always more interested in climbing trees or diving into pools and splashing through puddles filled with tadpoles.
The librarian (for the life of me, I cannot recall her name) must have taken pity on me as she struck up a conversation. I remember being shy, avoiding her eyes as I spoke... but soon, her kindly voice and her rather comforting smell (soap and clean clothes) drew me out of my shell and I became more earnest, more expressive of my emotions.
She asked me then "What do you like to read, Nabiya?"
I shrugged my then-scrawny shoulders, mumbling an incoherent reply... suddenly shy of my lack of knowledge.
"I know just the thing for you," she said, the smile on her face an image I will never forget for the rest of my living days, "It's a favourite for many girls your age, and it's a series..."
I made a face at the thought of having to endure an entire series of books. As I said, at the time I had little patience for books.
The librarian moved from behind her counter and shuffled over to the children's section. Tentatively, I followed behind her, trying to look around her generous bottom (she really does remind me of a certain Mrs. Doubtfire) at the book she was pulling out of the shelf.
"Here you go, if you don't like it you can just bring it back and I'll find you something nicer."
In her hand was the very first book in the Babysitters Club series.
I took it from her, smiled and thanked her then left the library.
Two days later, I was back and asking if I could have the next book.
There we go, my dear friends and family... that was the exact moment where I discovered The Other World.
