Clay

Yesterday I attended my first pottery class in Singapore. Pottery has someone always been one of my interests, there's just something to feeling the malleable clay between your fingers and moulding it into something coherent with your hands. This class, much to my appreciation, was stocked with adequate equipment - enough wheels for everyone - much unlike my last class where everyone had to compete to use the two wheels among eight people.

So there I was, shyly smiling at everyone, the way I do with unfamiliar people. One was a cute little boy, around perhaps 6, who had the most beautiful bluest eyes and blondest hair. Another was a woman, looking eager, who apparently was new. Another woman sat at a mechanised wheel, working on an existing project, wearing denim bermudas and a white and blue striped collared shirt. It was the eager woman who struck me the most.

She was the one who attempted to start a conversation. She was French it transpired, and when the little boy said he was French too her eyes lit up. They started pattering away in French, as I smiled to myself, feeling like I was in a quaint French movie. Then she spoke to me. She talked about how this was just her 2nd week into a 1 year stay in Singapore. How she missed home, how she skyped her family everyday. How she couldn't get used to the temperature and the food. She easily looked in her 30s to me. I spoke about how it was when I first went to London, that it'd get better. Still I knew such words were of little comfort to her, platitudes even. But we had not yet reached the level of intimacy, and I could not quite remember what it was like when I first went to London.

It struck me then more so than ever, that even though we get older we don't necessarily get used to the changes life brings. I always knew in my heart, and that is perhaps why I try to be sympathetic when my friends complain about their parents, that even parents are just older people who are trying to do what they think is best. That they're only that much more wiser, and that all they've really mastered is some experience and a lot of Looking Like What They Know They're Doing When They Really Don't. I spoke to my Dad about it a few days ago, and he laughed, saying Now You Know. Still, it was different hearing it from the French lady. Hearing it in person that being an adult doesn't mean you know what you're doing - and that perhaps you'll never really know what you're doing despite your age.