Fiction: Group 3
History Lessons or a New Pearl River Delta?
Maryknoll Convent School (Secondary Section), Lau, Nicole - 14, Fiction: Group 3
ook, Mum. I didn’t want to fall asleep in my History class, but I just couldn’t help it. The
teacher was talking as if she was mumbling a sleep spell of some kind. I couldn’t help but doze
off.”
My mum was glaring at me with a murderous look. She hated it when teachers complained about
my performances at school.
“Don’t worry. I will pay attention in class in the future,” I promised as persuasively as I could.
“Tell me what happened exactly,” she ordered, with the disapproval still impossible to miss on her
face.
“Well, the teacher was talking about Hong Kong as a British colony. And I fell asleep, just like
that.”
What I said was just part of the truth. In fact, that History lesson could have made onto my ‘Most
Unforgettable Lesson of All Times’ list. It wasn’t the messily scribbled notes on the blackboard that
interested me, of course. It was the dream that I had. It was a new tale of the Pearl River Delta.
Maybe it was due to the lack of sleep the day before, or perhaps it was because of my dislike
towards history, but either way, I had a hard time focusing on my work during the lesson. I started flipping
through the pages in my history book, and ended up finding myself staring at a portrait of Lin Zexu, the one
who destroyed opium in the war, so the book said.
I started thinking in a way that would have driven my History teacher mad. I imagined what it
would be like if Lin Zexu never destroyed opium. I pictured a Hong Kong that had never been under
British control. I dreamed for a world without history to study. All of these seemed satisfying. And just like
that, the voice of the nonstop talking of the teacher blurred into a background music that matched with the
rhythm of the tick tocks of the classroom clock. And I fell asleep.
In my dream, I was standing in my living room with my mum.
“Mum, can you suggest a monument in Hong Kong to visit? I have to write a review on a historical
event for my History assignment.” I asked.
“How about the statue dedicated to the soldiers who beat down the British armies in the Opium
War and saved Hong Kong from the rules of Britain?” she suggested.
I myself may not be a big fan of the history of Hong Kong, but at least I have got the common
sense to know that Hong Kong was once under British rule. Hearing my mum say that, I was so bewildered
that I stuttered when I talked, “I… I haven’t heard of such a thing before. You mean Hong Kong was not a
British colony?”
“Oh no, of course not! Don’t you pay attention in class? Now, go back to your room and start
working on your homework!” she said with such certainty that I almost believed it was true. However, a
part of me was sure something strange was going on. For one thing, what my mom just said made no sense
at all. If I wrote that in my History exam, I would probably fail. For another, my room felt vaguely
unfamiliar. There was the old blue wallpaper that peeled off at the corners. Yes, there was nothing wrong
with it, but something, something had changed. I turned around and saw it. My paintings, my paintings in
which I imitated the drawing styles of Van Gogh and Picasso, were gone. They had magically transformed
into a huge Chinese painting. It was a picture of the view from the top of a mountain, painted only with
black ink. I stared at the painting in shock.
Then I noticed something even more horrifying. I used to have a white teddy bear the size of a
large pillow. Used to. Now, it had become a Chinese doll. It wore a traditional Chinese dress, the ones you
see rich ladies wear in old movies. It was made of a thin flowery patterned cloth and tightened at the hips.
Then the terrifying fact slowly dwelled on me. My painting in western style had changed into an
old Chinese painting. That gigantic teddy bear of mine had turned into a ragged Chinese doll. That means
everything from the West had gone missing, replaced by Chinese objects. Adding into consideration what
my mum said about Hong Kong winning the war against the British. I understood right away.
The weird world that I was staying in was one in which Hong Kong had never been under British
rule. That part of the Hong Kong history had been altered. This explained everything. Without the British
“L
