Day 9, 24th November

Farewell, London

We awoke on Sunday morning muddled with feelings of anxiety, excitement and dread all at the same time. This being the last day of our Literature Enrichment Trip, we were anxious about making the most of our last few hours in London and not just to adorn our social networking sites with photos. The past 9 days have been filled with enjoyable and educational adventures, and so it felt only right to end with an equally memorable day.

Everything is a lot more precious when you know it is going to be taken away soon and so, I filled myself up to my satisfaction during breakfast – scrambled eggs, toast, cereal, juice. However, having had stayed up all night packing our bags, chatting with roommates and neighboring trip mates, all of us were knocked out the minute we  loaded up the coach with our luggage, and sat down.

“Wake up, Saints!”, Mr. Chee Kam’s voice could not have been louder as it jolted all of us out of our deep slumber. Dazed, we took our valuables and got off the bus towards the Imperial War Museum. The chilly, harsh breeze that greeted us snapped us out of our daze and we took in our surroundings – a brown building with an impressive glass dome, in front of it stood 2 majestic-looking canons surrounded by bushes and a field blanketed with dried leaves.

Seeing that we were early and the museum was not opened yet, our teachers granted us free time to frolic about and off we strolled, breathing in the fresh morning air, and jumping over the fence separating the field from the museum. And there, it was as though the 7-year-olds within us were immediately unleashed upon taking in the picturesque view of the trees, brick-walled buildings, open fields, with the sunlight illuminating the greenery and falling leaves. Immediately more energized than a lifetime supply of caffeine could make us, a few of us ran to the playground and started fighting for the swings, some started gathering up dried leaves to dive into while others mingled to enjoy and capture the beauty of the Sunday morning on their cameras. The air was filled with laughter and joy, every one of us simply enjoying each other’s company and that of Mother Nature.

When it was time to go in, we rounded up with a group picture – a final memento of our last morning in London well spent – and jogged to the side entrance of the museum. During the hour that we were given time to venture through the Holocaust Exhibit, and embark on a journey into the past. We imagined the helplessness and sorrows of the Holocaust victims and found that no amount of empathy could measure up to the true extent of their sufferings. I personally feel that what fully captured their suffering were not the many vivid descriptions of their punishments, not even the aisles of photographs of the skin and bones that were the victims. Rather it was their personal belongings – the only remnants of a being in a glass case – that captured a life snatched away by the Nazis. Such remnants included spectacles, a glass lens, a pen, letters. There was a particular letter written by Adrien Josef Cerf to his wife while he was on the train to Auschwitz, the largest of the death camps, that touched me the most. The letter ended off with “All my thoughts and all my love are in this last letter, together with my gentle tender kisses.” This made me realize that during the duration of time where the Nazis were in power in the 1940s, not only lives were lost, but relationships, and love.

This realization opened my eyes to the fact that we take a lot of things for granted. We sleep on comfortable beds, we are sheltered, warm and comfortable, we eat enough to last the day, we are not burdened with hard physical labor, we wake up early to be educated and yet, we – even I – complain. The war prisoners slept crowded together in poorly ventilated rooms, they are awoke before dawn, they witness hideous punishments, they are forced to endure brutal physical labour and are only given watery soup or a piece of bread each day. Need our privileges be taken away; need we be put through extreme suffering, before we realize that we have a lot more to be thankful for?

Edmund Burke (1729-1979) said, “For evil to triumph, it is only necessary for good men to do nothing.” The true meaning of this quote was manifested as we learnt about the people who helped the prisoners, one of them was a Swiss diplomat named Charles Lutz who aided 200 Jewish children reach Palestine despite the risk of facing dire consequences. Learning this, I realized that no matter how insignificant we deem ourselves to be, be it in terms of education achievements or social position, there is always a definite way of making a difference in people’s lives – compassion.

Our visit to the museum ended too soon as we returned to the coach, ready to visit Tate Britain, an art museum that housed paintings by William Blake, Joseph Mallord William Turner and John Constable and many more. Mr. Chee Kam walked us through the JMW Turner gallery where we were mesmerized by Turner’s excessive use of contrasting colours to evoke certain feelings and messages.  My personal favourite painting of his would be “Interior of a Great House: The Drawing Room”. Upon first sight, it is difficult to make out what the painting was about but the bold oranges and reds indicate the presence of a fire. The intensity of the fire can be seen through the contrast between the all-consuming red and the lighter colours that evoked a sense of calmness. Also, while the wreckage of the room was painted with harsh strokes and dabs of dark paint, the parts of the room left unscathed were painted with gentle, continuous strokes of white and yellow. I feel that the painting is a representation of calm in the midst of chaos, which really spoke to me because the past year has been a year of challenges for me and so the painting reminded of the times in which I had managed to keep faith and focus on the good in life, rather than what had been lost along the way.

Although I have the artistic skills of a duck, I have always been appreciative of artists who have been able to change the world with their masterpieces. As a viewer, I think an artist could do that by connecting with the viewers through their painting. When I laid eyes of “Fen Lane, East Bergholt”, a painting by John Constable that depicted a view of Fen Lane that he valued as a child, I immediately felt a personal connection with the painting and Constable himself. I feel that when an artist transforms a precious childhood memory, or any memory, into oil on a canvas, he places a part of himself on canvas as well and I feel myself relating with his childhood. I imagined myself walking along the same Fen Lane as a boy, excited for school and yet strolling slowly just to take in the view and this is why this painting quickly landed itself as one of my favourites.

After an hour of browsing through the various galleries in Tate Britain, we boarded the coach again for our last lunch in London at Leicester Square. My friends – Afifah, Tessa, Sonya, Andy and Raymond – and I had delicious lamb and chicken kebabs and pizzas for a filling lunch. Finally, weary and more than ready to head back to the warmth of Sunny Singapore and satisfy our cravings for Asian food, we made our way to the airport.

As much as I had enjoyed my first trip to London – it was also my first time on an airplane – and the fact that it was a Literature-based trip made it all the more one of the best experiences of my life. Aside from the many, many souvenirs taking up half my luggage space, I also bring back with me my precious life lessons and valuable friendships. Though London was undoubtedly a blast, there is no place quite like home, and definitely no food quite like Asian food.

- Nadia