Studying abroad has always been seen as a privilege. Being exposed to Western culture promised more opportunities, more resources, and more experiences. The stubbornness of wanting to become more than I could ever be has led me on my journey to study abroad in Australia. We always had a thirst to be different, but our desires always come at an expensive cost.
People always talk about the American dream: regardless of race and class differences, through hard work and sacrifice, you will be able to achieve success. Being able to bear the expense of a one-way ticket to Australia, just to have a glimpse of western education, is a luxury few could afford to complain about. The freedom of choice that it comes with is something most people would only dream to taste. If you dared to weep, or to complain, it’s all due to ungratefulness and greed. What about those you left behind? What about them? But I guess no one cared enough to ask, what about me?
If the idea of home could be personified, it would be encapsulated in a box of Vita Lemon Tea. I reminisce on the days of my childhood — when a box of lemon tea just cost 5 dollars, when happiness could be bought with a mere coin.
Sometimes, studying abroad feels like taking a sip of lemon tea. At times, you can feel the sweetness. Just like when you were finally given the permission to peek through the gaps of the undiscovered side of the world, the feeling of being able to mark the beginnings of your long-awaited dreams, and even just the silly spontaneous bubble tea trips with your chosen family. The sugar in the tea is like sparkly stars on gloomy nights, blooming into your loneliest hours. It’s all you need to realise that even in the darkest skies, there was never an absence of light. The lemon flavour of the tea always brings in a hint of sourness. Just like the moments of family reunions and home-cooked dinners, but never once being invited to the table. The taste of bitterness is also very strong in the tea; it represents the unbearable emotional stress you face alone, the effort spent trying to fit into a social circle to which you never truly belonged, and the identity you carry as a woman of colour drowning in a sea of discrimination. The countless nights of falling asleep in tear-stained pillows, staring at those swollen eyes through the mirror the next morning, wondering, what if all of this was never worth it?
I remember walking into the nearest Australian Asian supermarket and picking up an overpriced 35-dollar box of Vita Lemon Tea, wishing that I did not need to fight my battles alone. I took a sip of tea. I realised it wasn’t sweet or sour, nor was it bitter. It was the taste of comfort. It was a taste of home.
When you live abroad, sometimes life pressures you to put on a brave face, but home will always be around. Home, will always be that 35 dollar box of lemon tea.
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《三十五塊的檸檬茶》
從小，我一直不甘於平凡，因此下定決心隻身飄洋過海，拖著五十公斤的思念，揮手告別。記得離開之前我想買一盒檸檬茶，紀念家的甜味。但十塊一盒實在太貴了，所以還是放了回去。於是頭也不回，帶著孤注一擲的勇氣，一股走向自己所期盼的未來。
可惜當我在澳洲，我所期待的，與現實給予的，總有半點落差。但留學這種奢侈，若敢説半句不快樂，那一定就是自己的不知足。當初可以擁有選擇的權利，又豈敢再多怨言半句。畢竟是一個為夢想而拔涉的女孩，而且北半球與南半球之間可以容下五千七百零九公里，若説沒有半點辛酸，那都是騙人的吧。
如果說留學生受盡了酸甜苦辣，倒不如說每段經歷就像檸檬茶。適時帶一點甜，是開啟對未知世界的窺探，是給予在夾縫中追逐夢想的希望，也是那些在茫茫人海中的一切相遇。砂糖灑滿的盒子，就像星辰覆蓋了黑暗，彷彿點綴了那孤獨的夜。有時候生活也會帶點酸酸的口味。我記得有一次在快餐店看見一對父女在吃飯，父親蹣跚地拿著冰淇淋走向女兒，空氣中瀰漫的溫馨視而不得，心頭立馬一陣子酸。有時候也會酸到鼻子裏去，不知道突然出現在嘴角的那淡淡的鹹味，到底是從何而來。最後的味道，是苦澀。就像黑髮黃皮帶來的鄙視；即便盡全力融入，還是被西方社會拒之門外的徒勞。還有那些只能對著四面白牆獨自哭泣的瞬間，抱著沾滿眼淚的枕頭昏睡。再看着自己狼狽的模樣，不禁問起了自己：這一切犧牲到底是否值得？
蜷縮在房間的一角，我累了。
家，到底在哪裏？
終於受不了孤獨感的侵襲，想要試圖尋找家的蹤影，一絲一毫也好。於是，每次走近亞洲超市，我都會拿起一盒三十五塊的檸檬茶。 捨不得，但還是買了，因為此時此刻，已經沒有什麼比牽掛更讓人窒息。記得喝下去的時候，苦中會有一點甜。這就是記憶中家的味道。
漂泊的人呀，要記得好好站著，即便沒有人看到你的勇敢。家，一直都會在的。家，一直會留在那一盒三十五塊的檸檬茶裏。
