I grew up chasing coastlines, never far from the sound of waves. Cantonese at home, English at school, other languages picked up along the way. My memories smell like salt air, chalk dust, and school canteens. I learned my times tables on damp afternoons and learned how to switch accents without thinking.

Singapore was where everything turned neon and loud. Buses ran like clockwork, hawker centers smelled like satay, and English danced with Singlish slang. I sweated through my uniforms, learned to order kopi like a local, and started collecting stories instead of souvenirs.

Canada was snow and sushi deals. In Vancouver, I passed my ESL test, learned that “temperate marine” really means “bring an umbrella forever,” and found out that Christmas performances can still make me nervous. My classmates had Teslas before driver’s licenses, but my favorite memory is organizing a charity music festival with my team.

Life at Uwaterloo gave me a shovel and a carpool buddy — literally. We drove an hour each way to school, filming silly videos on the road, discovering hidden towns, and learning how to survive winters that lasted forever. I even picked up simple Japanese just to get extra deals from the nearby sushi shop.

Then came NTU — a semester in Singapore at the School of Art, Design and Media. The Hive looked like a spaceship, and the campus felt like a living zoo. Snakes in the dorms, lizards on the path, and a Night Safari right down the road (which I never went to because…why pay for the zoo when you live in one?). I typed essays at 2 a.m. in a shared dorm room with three monitors, feeling both over- and under-qualified at once.