Story Time with Aunty Wai

short, informal stories for those who like to read


Parking passes are worth more than one’s life savings, in college terms, and I figure that’s why most people don’t get them and instead park on the paved shoulder of ANY street parallel or perpendicular to the campus. And this is what I love about UH Hilo.. 
A lady walks to her car, that is literally parked in the bushes where she’s moving branches to get to the drivers side, next to other cars that are all parked on the paved shoulder behind the sign that says in red “NO PARKING ON PAVED SHOULDER”, puts the key in the door, turns left right and left again, hits the handle with her knee, and again with her free elbow, swings the door open, throws her purse onto the passenger side, her books on the hood, takes out a scrunchy and very speedily whips her hair into a tidah bun, cracks her knuckles, and begins to use the window knob with the intent of rolling it down. As you may have guessed, the crank doesn’t work. so she cranks, pushes the glass down, cranks, pushes, cranks, pushes, until its all the way down. Then she places her books carefully in the back seat, falls into her chair, slams the door, -oops, neva work, one more time-, starts the car and reverses out of her bush, making a completely illegal “Z” turn, trying to catch the light across the double solid line, doesn’t quite make it, and thus sits with her car diagonally stopped between lanes and a quarter way into the intersection.

nobody makes a big deal about her awful and somewhat inconvenient position on the road, because this is college. we’re a people who dedicate so much time, money and energy to this thing called education that we believe, so fervently, will be thee best decision we’ll ever make in terms of our futures. we drive, walk, bike, use whatever we can (whether it works good or not), and seemingly park wherever we can, just to make it on time to sit in a room and listen to someone share what they know. we eat everything, anything, especially if it’s free. we think about all the fun stuff we could do, realize it’d cost more than $5, then lay back down in bed or settle for the gym. college is not like high school where some kids are wealthier than others, some are smarter than others, some have more hope than others. we’re all, in a sense, poor. we’re all, in a sense, not as smart as we think. and still through our circumstances, we all have some kind of hope in ourselves and in our teachers to somehow one day, be anything we want. 
it’s beautiful


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