I was twelve and on my way back from my 1-month training stint in Vancouver, Canada. We had a stopover in London for a night and we rented a dingy bed and breakfast to stay over. I wasn’t feeling very well and during the night, I felt a terrible itch on one particular spot on my stomach. I scratched it all night and in the morning saw that it had become a red spot that hurt from too much scratching.

Then, I found a few more red spots on various parts of my body and got worried. I showed them to my coach and she knew right away what they were – chicken pox! Coincidentally, I wasn’t the only one having it. FHI was also feeling the same itch and with red spots appearing on her skin! We felt sick immediately and the cold weather in London didn’t help us feel better.

We had also missed our flight home due to a fire breaking out at the subway, causing it to stop service and part of our team couldn’t get to the airport on time. So we had to stay another night. By the time we were getting onto our next flight, FHI and I had developed even more red spots on our faces and we had to wrap the scarves around our faces to cover them. We didn’t want to be stopped by immigration and be quarantined for God knows how long before we could take a flight out.

On the plane, we continued to hide the spots from passing stewardess. We asked for calamine lotion and discreetly applied them in the in-flight toilets. I think I slept most of my 13-hour flight home. When we landed, I was relieved and so glad to be home. After claiming our baggage, we walked out the exit and when I saw Mom waiting for me at the arrival gates, I burst into tears.

School was reopening in just a few days after I got home but I was still not fit to attend school. So I stayed home to nurse the pox and stayed clear of food with black sauce to prevent scarring and marks. When I got to a stage where the pox were no longer contagious, but with the little pox still visible, I was fit to go to school. In order to cover the recovering spots, I wore the baju kurung version of the uniform to school. However, unaware to me, this school which was completely new to me then, had never seen a non-Malay wearing a baju kurung to school.

Being new and terribly insecure with no friends other than MT, I felt depressed. I hated the glares I got from other girls like I was weird. Some teachers asked why I was dressed like that and I had to explain. One particular teacher found it amusing and every once in a while would pester me to show her the pox. How weird! Of course, I never did.

There was also a time when I attended my first Moral class meant for non-Malay students. The teacher told me I had entered the wrong class and that I should be attending the Agama class instead. So once again I found myself explaining my dressing. It seemed like I got quite a lot of unwanted attention. I still didn’t know anybody and it felt really lonely and I was missing my old school friends tremendously.

Soon after, the pox marks disappeared and I was back in the normal school uniform. I didn’t stand out anymore and was glad to blend in just like any other student. By then I had also began making some friends, and some who still remain good friends to me today. I’m also glad that the chicken pox had not left me with any scars.

Over the weekend we were looking at the Barbie Doll selection at a departmental store’s toy section. We were looking for a wedding theme Barbie with her matching groom, Ken. We didn’t quite find the pair.

But it brought back fond memories of how my cousins and I enjoyed our Barbie moments. We each had a Barbie, with the exception of Mary who had a Ken instead. We had a fair selection of clothes for our dolls and ever imaginative minds to conjure up things for our dolls to do – attending some balls, sporting events, shopping, etc. We groomed and dressed the dolls, had pretend conversations between one Barbie with another, and experimented with how the doll could bend this way or that way. We had some pretty good times.

Another cousin, Vicky, who lived in JB was also a fan of Barbie. Whenever we visited during the school holidays, my Barbie never missed a trip. Vicky’s mom is very good at craft works and so her Barbie had gorgeous custom made outfits and furniture like wardrobe and bed. She even made hangers to fit the wardrobe! I got lucky too, as my aunt would also make some for me so I too enjoyed the unique Barbie clothes that I knew no one else would have.

Looking back, I don’t know what all the big fuss was. It was just the “in” thing to have and it seemed an addictive toy. Now, there are so many Barbie-wanna-be dolls and I wonder if they are still as popular. I wonder if most girls grow up wanting to be like a glamorous Barbie figure…