4.2
When I closed my eyes, the first thing I hear is the busy opening and closing of the sliding door as the excited students ran in and out, doing their after school duties. A student runs in, throws the door open with a loud bang. The noise is immediately followed by the annoyed comment of a teacher, probably the oldest in the office - "Are you trying to break our poor old door? Have some respect! That thing is probably older than you!"
"Sorry!" the student yells as they sprint off elsewhere. She must be excited to go home, or she must be very lightweight. Her footstep sounds very light. A faint tap tap tap trails her out the hallway.
I chose the visible part of the seat in the small talking area in the corner of the office on purpose, but I feel the young eyes, as well as wise, old ones, piercing me. I open my eyes for a brief moment to make myself invisible behind the flimsy screen. It feels weird to acknowledge that it has been more than six years since I have graduated. I still feel like a middle school student, yet I am already 21.
The office has always smelled faintly of chalk, although it has been a while since they stopped using chalks. The dry scent of the chalk blends in with the odor of the new whiteboard markers. The office is the only place in the entire school which uses whiteboard markers. All the classes have a blackboard, which is written on with a liquid chalk. One can also taste the remnant of the coffee from the morning in the air, almost aired out from the countless open and close of the office doors. The smell brings back memories. It smells just like it used to when I attended school six years ago.
The chair that I am sitting in is generally for the teachers only. I have never dreamed that I would be able to sit in this chair as a guest back then. When I last sat in it, I was a new student in school - the strange girl from California who has decided to transfer in the middle of the last school year. The chair is made of leather. The typically is icy cold when one first sits on it. The cold almost feels uncomfortable in the new, abrupt winter that has been brought upon us. I remember it feeling better during the summer, when it is sticky and boiling hot outside and in the classrooms. I shift side to side in the uncomfortable skirt I have picked out specially for this occasion in an attempt to warm the seat up. The attempt did not go to waste. The leather seat slowly warmed up to match my temperature.
"Who are you?" a low voice with a tang of dialect - I am still not familiar enough with the different areas of Korea to tell which - breaks into my meditation and demands. It is the voice that I can still recognize after all the years. It is my teacher that I have been waiting for. I cannot stop the smile lightening up my entire face in recognition. I open my eyes to greet him.
"Don't you remember me?
4.4
Sight: Red and green ribbons, white Christmas lights, green and lively plants
Sound: Carols, jazz, excited squeals of little children, chatters of my friends, all slightly blurred out.
Smell: Cinnamon, nutmeg, Abrocrombie and Fitch perfume, clay, kiln, fire, forest, woods, faint popcorn smell
Touch: Stinging cold air, wind
I spent the most of my puberty in California. The part that I lived in, Rancho Palos Verdes, a small town in the peninsula of the southern outskirts of the Golden State, is somewhat like the stereotypical image of California. It is generally warm, and the town is generally dry from the desert weather. It iss different in the sense that it often gets fogged up. My town is literally the peninsula itself. The fog from the ocean often creeps up and covers the peninsula in thick white folds of fog.
Unlike what people imagine about my town, the winter in Rancho Palos Verdes is chilly in its own way. Girls shudder in short shorts and UGG boots, and boys run around to fight the cold in their surfer pants. Regardless, many gladly welcome the chilly weather. It marks the beginning of the most wonderful time of the year.
The mall that I visited the most often, named the Promenade, is an outdoor mall. It has a fountain in the center of the mall in which children giggle and run around in during the summer. In the winter, a 6-meter tall Christmas tree takes its place. The Christmas tree is green with the festive gold ribbons twirled around its gigantic body. Gold ball ornaments, covered in thick sparkles, are hanged up in an orderly fashion. An ornament is almost as big as a baby's head to match the huge body of the tree. The tree is also thickly covered in wires of lights. During the night, the tree is lighted up with a golden glow that lights up the entire central grounds. The shops also start setting up Christmas decorations in their show windows. Some managers often get excited enough to make their mannequins wear Santa hats.
One of the best parts of the season in California is that you can still see live plants for it is not cold enough for them to go into hibernation. Green plants with the festive season may sound a little off, but that is what I love and miss the most.
The speakers placed in different parts of the mall play carol, typically jazz, to celebrate the season. It is just enough to make the mall a little more festive. It is never too loud, and does not disturb the shoppers from enjoying their walk around the mall. The shoppers are not loud accordingly. Their chats only echo a bit until it gets lost in the merry music. Some whistle to the familiar tunes, some sing to themselves. When it really becomes the season, the people carry around big shopper bags, red and gold in celebration, in preparation for the big day.
The air, once it gets near even Thanksgiving, starts smelling of cinnamon and nutmeg. The delicious smell blends with the nutty smell of coffee from Starbucks to create the atmosphere. The smell has the magic of transforming even the strong, tangy perfume of Abercrombie&Fitch into something festive. The aroma transforms the typical everyday smell of the mall - the earthy smell of clay from the art class, warm tang from the kiln, faint popcorn, evergreens - to magically make the mall a more beautiful place.
Your essay for task 4.4 superbly draws a vivid image of the mall in my head. Seeing that it was California I can see how the atmosphere of christmas would be different and you did great capturing that in your writing. I think your strength is that you very clearly state details in a way I have trouble doing such as naming certain things and places familiar to all of us. When you state uggs or starbucks I immediately know what it is I'm supposed to be seeing. You don't make the readers work. Generally, I think you caught all the senses, particularly smell, really well with expressions such as warm tang or cinnamon. However, while I know it to be difficult, it would have greatly enhanced your essay to include more senses of touch. Also, not to be nitpicky with your essay but just a few tense errors such as 'hanged' to 'hung'. But all in all, your essay has a smooth flow and helps readers to easily imagine what you want us to.
ReplyDeleteSu Yeon Kim 201500568
I have really enjoyed reading your writing piece, especially the one for task 4.4, because I actually know the town of RPV! My mom's best friend lives in RPV, and I have been there twice or three times, staying for a few months, so far in my life. I was able to clearly connect my memory of the town as I read through your writing, from the weather of the area that you described, to the mall Promenade down in the Hawthorne Blvd, which I have visited a few times when I stayed in the area. It is so thrilling to read off someone else's writing that is written about the small town of California since I had never expected anyone else to know the town. The warm and chilly winter of RPV as depicted reminds me of my last visit, which was 2 years ago. I can just smell the smell of cinnamon in the mall imagining myself back in the town. I really liked how you wrote your descriptive writings!
ReplyDelete201503676 Hong Chae-ryoung