Tennis and Noodles


I am at the base of a three-storey apartment building in a particular place. Amazingly, I can see what is on the topmost-the rooftop. I get curious that I inch closer to the sight. I see lots of Koreans. I figure that it must be a Korean compound. I start to see all my students back in Baguio. They seem to be having some kind of a celebration or a party. The place is in total chaos. When I get inside the only three storey house in the compound, a metaphorically old student of mine takes me to the rooftop and invites me to play table tennis with him.

At the rooftop, I am wowed to see hundreds of tables and a lot of Koreans zealously playing table tennis. The area is really huge. Overlooking, I can see a huge canopy of black fishnets. My student and I wait for our turn and I become tedious, I feel bored watching the two players in their highly intense game. The ball just keeps on moving to and fro right in front of my eyes. I sit down for a while.

Then my student tugs me and tells me that we start the game. When I look up, the two players playing earlier are gone. We play the game and the table where we are at seems longer than the usual size of an actual table for the game. We start the game and all of a sudden the table disappears. We continue the game and the ball keeps bouncing on the ground covered with gravels. Playing the game now seems more difficult. The net is also on the ground.

I get disappointed that my student cuts the game. He says that he is leaving for Korea. The scene suddenly changes and I see all my Korean students carrying their luggage. We are now at the airport. I see some of them ascending the stairs aboard the plane. I follow inside and say my goodbyes. On my way out, some students follow me and leave their bags, they give me pouches of noodles. Each of them carying the noodles on their crossed arms. I look at the dozens of noodles infront of me and the plane leaves.

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