My friend, Alma and I were having dinner in the only Italian restaurant in the city where I lived here in China (restaurants like these are hard to come by). I looked at her with all seriousness. “You know, I’ve always wanted to climb Mount Everest,” I said.
She choked on her coffee. Her eyes couldn’t have been any more wider in shock. “What?!”
“The base of course. As soon as I’ve taken one or three steps, I’m done.”
We had a good laugh after that. I’m not a serious athlete. I moan at the slightest notion of climbing or hiking a mountain, especially if it had those man-made concrete steps like those in Hong Kong. I even complain at walking for 10 minutes from the bus stop to our school. I was thoroughly exhausted after half an hour of climbing one of those mountains in Java, Indonesia. Now I’m thinking of climbing the highest mountain of the world? Let it be known I just wanted to have a tale for my future generations.
“Seriously, grandma? You climbed Mount Everest?” His dewy eyes were open with open admiration and wonder.
I would look at my soon to be very much in the distant future grandson. This is done with all the grandeur and wisdom bestowed to me in my old age. “Yes. It was hard work and took 15 minutes. You had no idea how tough the bottom part of the mountain could be! And that’s why I just chose to stay there.”