Personal Essay: Coking Cok

Cok Cok’. There, the rooster chimes again, followed by the sound of numerous young students stamping as they walk through the corridor outside of my room. Again, I stared blankly at the grey deteriorating ceiling. I had opened my eyes for way too many times at night I lost count. I was in a classroom, or I should call it a bedroom, in Pokhara, Nepal, fulfilling my responsibility as a volunteer educating the next generation.
I zipped up my jacket and slowly move out of the sleeping bag that was not very effective in keeping me warm in the chilly nights. It was still 6:00 in the morning when the sky was not bright enough for people from Hong Kong like me to function. School children greet me politely as I walk down to the little open area that
I tried to appreciate the fact that we have food, but sometimes I lose the battle to convince myself that everything taste good. But what could I do? I was hungry and all the packaged food from Hong Kong was given to the kids when I was trying to be a friendly teacher. After swallowing all the food, I squatted down next to the bottle filled with water taken from the river, took the blue piece of soap and a torn little piece of cloth to remove all the dirt from the dish as I marvel at how incredible my hands are to be able to move in this weather without electricity and
They are Tarzans and gorillas on the monkey bars. They slide down the half-broken metal slide. Some other kids were playing anything they have in sight, the rocks, the branches and a small loose ball made by several rubber bands that looks like it has been around for quite a long time. The parents from Hong Kong would stop their kids if they were doing the same. Maybe the germs in Hong Kong are too strong and the immune systems of children are too weak. Looking at the Nepali youngsters fly through the terracing land, I recall a scene of Kong Kids tipping toe on grassland as if the grass would cut through their skin and eventually die because of whatever reasons. As I was contemplating, a couple of young naughty kids threw their worn old rubber thing at me. I quickly threw back as a kind of revenge. Then they threw it back again. And the next moment I know, I was on the playground playing with them a like a grown-up