Editor’s Note: Sorry, readers. Still no luck in locating all those pictures of mine. They will be posted here when found.

The time: November 1983. I was already in my Senior year and this would be my final Christmas vacation before graduation in May 1984. I had been to the West Coast already for the past two vacations, and the same scenario was now playing up in my mind—the dorms will be closed during the Christmas break, what did I want to do?

It’s surprising how things work themselves out. I received a surprise phone call from one of my cousins, Beng Keat. Turns out that he was in Duke University (Durham, North Carolina) with his wife and son, doing a Graduate course in business management or something like that. Now BK (as I’ll refer to him from now) was always a joker in our Yeoh family. I still remember his comical side, when he told me over the phone that my parents wanted him to check up on the man “from the desert.” He asked me what I was doing over Christmas, so I told him. He told me that his family was planning a trip down to Walt Disney World and Epcot Center over the Christmas break, and they “needed a driver.” Would I be interested? Yeah, why not.

So one fine day again, I found myself at Tucson International Airport, with my baggage. I was now heading on an Eastern Airlines flight to Raleigh/Durham, with a change of flights in Atlanta, Georgia. BK and his family were at the airport to meet me. They had with them some Malaysian friends who kindly provided the transport to take me to BK’s housing unit on the university campus.

Again, this was a nice change of environment for me. Durham was very cool, misty, and raining lightly. BK and his wife were wearing heaps of clothing and generally shivering. Me? I had an Arizona t-shirt with a JC Penney’s jacket over it. “Yes, it’s really the man from the desert,” BK quipped.

The housing unit wasn’t big, but I didn’t mind. There was a small living room and dining area. There was a bedroom, a common bathroom, and that was pretty much it. BK gave me a sleeping bag, and since there was hardly any space, I slept on the floor facing their main glass windows, and let me tell you, it was cold during the nights, but I didn’t mind. BK’s wife was a pretty good cook, and I did my level best to help out by washing the dishes, and other household chores.

Needless to say, I had an enjoyable time visiting Duke University, and I recall that they even had a grand piano in the Student Union building. Anybody was welcome to play on it, and so I did. We also did some sightseeing around the Durham and Raleigh areas, plenty of nice spots there.

Finally, it was time for the Orlando trip. One big snag—we didn’t have a car. So trust BK and I to scout through newspaper ads and finally he settled on a used Toyota sedan. A blue-colored one, with auto transmission. In those days, we didn’t have GPS so had to solely rely on maps. BK and I would take turns driving and navigating. As it turned out, I did most of the driving and navigating because my cousin (bless him) loved to have a snooze every so often. Anyway, I didn’t mind, as the US Interstate system is not hard to figure out, and once we were out of Durham, driving along the I-95 heading south was quite straightforward.

So we made our way down, passing Charleston, South Carolina along the way. It was wonderful to see a different part of America. I recalled spending a night in Savannah, Georgia. Then it was on to Florida, the Sunshine state, and where I had a slight problem, similar to BK’s. The I-95 was so straight in places, I found myself nodding off at the wheel! Fortunately his wife was very alert about this, and would be poking me to keep me awake.

We finally arrived in Orlando, Florida. We already had our accommodation booked before we left Durham so we checked in and spent a wonderful few days taking in Walt Disney World and the newly-opened Epcot Center. I’ll never forget the Kodak 360° theater—that was so cool! Unfortunately, BK and his family came down with the flu half-way through our sight-seeing. I was fine, but I think they were feeling quite sick. So I drove most of the time on the way back to North Carolina.

All in all, it was another good vacation for me, and sadly, my final one in the States. The following year (May 1984) I graduated with my Bachelor of Music degree and returned to Malaysia.

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Editor’s Note: I’ve become extremely exasperated with myself because try as I might, I can’t seem to find the remainder of my photographs taken during my American vacations. I did succeed in finding two, so I’m including them in this post.

I’ve developed a love-hate affair with airports, over the course of my years abroad. On the one hand, they are the saddest places on Earth when you have to say goodbye to loved ones. On the other hand, they can be the happiest places when you see someone you love waving at you in the Arrivals area. I’ve been in a lot of airports—Singapore’s Changi, Rome’s Leonardo da Vinci, Athens’ Hellinikon, Paris’ Charles de Gaulle, Amsterdam’s Schiphol, London’s Heathrow, Tokyo’s Narita, Chicago O’Hare, Los Angeles, and of course, San Francisco. This last one was pure déjà vu for me, because the following year (December 1983) I arrived in this city again.

This time I was the guest of Karl and Anita, two German friends who had known my parents for a few years. When my parents told them that I was in Arizona over the Christmas period, they said that it would be cruel for someone to spend Christmas all alone, so I was invited to their home in Fremont, California, which again wasn’t far from the Bay Area. I remembered that Karl worked with Intel at the San Jose headquarters, and he showed up at the airport with his white Mercedes Benz! Karl undoubtedly, was a German through and through. They had a very nice house in Fremont, and I was shown to a guest room with all things, an electronic organ (see the picture below) Moreover, I spotted a typewriter (remember what that is?) on a desk. “Type a letter to your parents when you feel like it,” Karl said, jokingly.

Of course I played the organ too, and Karl and Anita were smiling, having some music flow through their house (both of them don’t play the organ, don’t ask me why) I did enjoy my vacation with them, as they did take me to various places in the Bay Area. I remember Carmel very vividly, because they had a famous mayor—Clint Eastwood. And secondly, the Pacific scenery especially at this time of the year, was breathtaking. I also managed to call up the Dyers and exchanged greetings with them.

However, this time I was hungry for more. Before I left Tucson, I had thoughts of visiting (wait for it) Hawaii! So this time I would be spending Christmas in San Francisco and the New Year in Honolulu. And guess what? My parents to the rescue again (hurray for parents!) They had a Malaysian friend called Bennett who had his own business in Honolulu. Again, Bennett was very kind and said yes, he would love to have me over. So just after Christmas, I said my goodbyes (here’s that airport love-hate thingy again) to Karl and Anita, and boarded my flight to Honolulu.

The instant I landed in Honolulu, I knew I was going to like this place. The weather was a balmy 75°F with moderate winds—just perfect! Bennett was at the arrivals area to pick me up. I was garlanded on arrival and it felt nice. We were shortly cruising down the Nimitz Highway to the city and Bennett’s apartment. In contrast to Karl’s place in Fremont, Bennett’s apartment was quite spartan, but comfortable. He’d stocked up his fridge with a ton of frozen TV dinners!

Of course Bennett took me around to see the sights, like Diamond Head, Waikiki Beach (very popular spot, always crowded), we even saw the Governor’s residence (which doubled as Police headquarters in the TV series Hawaii Five-O) We went swimming in Hanauma Bay, where the water was so clear and blue, and fish were swimming in and around us! We also went to the northern part of Oahu to see the Banzai Pipeline. I had never seen such huge waves in my life, ever! And no, I didn’t try surfing.

Anyway, the fun part was when Bennett had to go to the Big Island on business. He was so kind to give me free rein of his apartment and his trusty Toyota. All I had to do was grab a map of Honolulu (no GPS yet), put some gas in the tank, and off I went! Ah, that was the life! I was out exploring the city, the malls, etc. and loving it, although I was alone. When Bennett returned, we spent New Year’s Eve at a hotel, he had his own group of friends, and the atmosphere was one of fun.

However, it was now time to return to reality, and to Tucson. Again, I had to say a sad goodbye to Bennett and wonderful Hawaii. That’s why I still have a love-hate relationship with airports up till today.

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My student, Augustine Eu, recently sent me a Teacher’s Day card. It was lovely to be reminded of this, as I never remember when Teacher’s Day is, anyway. Thank you, Augustine. It certainly made my day.

Incidentally, Augustine scored an impressive 87 marks for his recent Grade 1 theory exam. Congratulations on the Merit, Augustine!

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Yeah, yeah I know…people have been asking, “Where’s episode 8?” Let’s just say that there will be an episode 8 of my Years in America series. Some events have transpired in the past week or so. I managed to reconnect with an old friend from my college days, so it was fun playing catch-up with her and talking about past times. I just love old friends!

I’ve also realized that I’d been neglecting My Music page, which had been gathering virtual cobwebs. So when Crystal made her comment there, I felt really compelled to do something about it. So far I’ve added It is well with my Soul and It’s Wonderful. I plan to add more in the coming days and weeks, due to the fact that I can see in my blog admin someone’s really coming back time and time again!

The comments have also been building up for My Music page, so I’m glad about that. Rest assured, episode 8 is coming soon.

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My thanks to my fellow dorm mate John “Scrawny” Morrison, for shouting out “IT’S THE WEEKEND!!” at the top of his lungs in the hallway every time Friday afternoon arrived.  Sometimes I would open my door and shout back, “Hey! It’s quiet hours!” jokingly. Weekends were nice, I still had assignments and studying to do, but at least there were no classes. Holiday breaks were enjoyable too, like one Thanksgiving break where I was invited to a meal by my good friends Leisa and Randy. I had never eaten so much turkey in my life.

Fall semester ‘81 was drawing to a close, and everyone was looking forward to the Christmas break. Now I faced another dilemma. The dorms would be closed over the holiday period, and of course it wasn’t viable to return home to Malaysia again. I shrugged, and faced the possibility that I would have to find alternative housing somewhere else. However, as luck would have it, I met another fellow dorm mate by the name of Richard Dyer earlier on during the Spring semester. Other people called him Rich, but he always preferred Rick, so I called him that. We struck up a friendship, and we used to have dinners together, as well as going to the Gallagher Theater for movies, stuff like that. It was nice to have some company, and pretty soon we became room mates. I don’t exactly remember how it came to pass, but I did confide in him about the possibility that I’d have to seek alternative accommodation during the Christmas period.

I guess he had been talking to his parents on the phone, and one fine day prior to the Christmas vacation he asked me, “Phil, how would you like to spend the holidays with me and my family?” Wow! Of course I was thrilled, but I said I hoped I wouldn’t be imposing on them. Rick replied, “Of course not.” So it was a done deal. Rick’s hometown was in Danville, California—not too far from San Francisco. We booked our flight tickets on United, and I was very excited—imagine, this would be my first visit to San Francisco! A different environment, with a different climate, and not forgetting of course, this would be a vacation. To top things off, Rick’s parents would be picking us up from the airport and taking us directly to Davies Symphony Hall for a performance of Handel’s Messiah by the San Francisco Symphony Orchestra—awesome!

Well, as things turned out, we experienced the famous San Francisco fog first-hand—the captain of the United Airlines 747 announced that due to extremely foggy conditions in the Bay Area, we would have to be in a holding position above the city. What a bummer, we’d be late for the concert! We eventually touched down about 45 minutes behind schedule, it was a frustrating wait for our baggage, and Rick’s father was anxiously looking out for us. We said our hellos, and then zoomed off to Davies Symphony Hall. Arrived there, and had to wait for a suitable break before we could enter. This was a beautiful hall indeed (DSH opened in September 1980; it underwent another major renovation in the Summer of 1992) Never mind, at least I got to experience the Hallelujah Chorus first-hand, standing up, of course.

It was pretty late when the concert ended. Rick and I were both tired, don’t remember seeing anything much on the drive to Danville—I was practically asleep. Rick’s mom was on hand to greet us when we arrived, a room had been prepared for me, and I was so tired I fell asleep straight away.

Suffice to say that the rest of the vacation was fantastic—Rick’s family treated me like one of their own and took me to all the well-known spots in San Francisco. Places like the Embarcadero, Fisherman’s Wharf, Chinatown (the largest in the world, it seems), Japantown, Nob Hill, Coit Tower, Union Square, Golden Gate Park, the Presidio, Ghirardelli Square (wonderful chocolate!). I had a first taste of the tram system and BART (Bay Area Rapid Transit) was smooth and efficient. The weather was cold and foggy, this was a nice change from Tucson. We went by car sometimes, at other times we just took BART into the city. I love San Francisco, it has a charm of its own.

And the food—in a word, awesome! Whether we were eating out or at home, there was an overabundance of food. As I’ve mentioned before, I’m not a picky eater, thank God. It was a real breakfast almost every day, with cereal, fruits, bacon, sausages, generous amounts of coffee—man this was the life! Since the Dyers had a spinet piano, I’d be tinkling on it whenever, and that made them smile. Rick was the eldest, he had two sisters, Suzanne and Sally, and a brother Bill, who was the youngest. They showed me around the neighborhood, and the family car was affectionately called Moby. I drove Moby for a bit too.

I also remember going to Stockton to visit Grandma and Grandpa (we stayed there for a day or two) and again, I was treated like one of the family. Rick’s grandpa was a farmer and so he showed me his land (tractors, buildings, and all) and what do you know, I had my first taste of actually handling a rifle and shotgun (I didn’t mention this to my parents). They had to occasionally get rid of birds like crows that liked to pick on the crops. That was the only time I had ever fired a weapon in my life!

I also cooked chicken curry for the family. I tried to make it as mild as I could, but still everyone had running noses after consuming it. Oh well. The run-up to Christmas was wonderful too, as I took part in buying Christmas presents for the whole family. It was a fantastic time and one that I’ll remember as long as I live. If any of the Dyers are reading this, I love you all!

Pretty soon it was time to head back to Arizona—Rick and I left with heavy hearts, but you need to say goodbye before you can say hello again. The whole family came to the airport, we hugged and kissed each other (I think I almost cried) Our flight was boarding, and before I knew it, we took off for Tucson. Back to the salt mines!

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I know this is wicked, but here are more of my memorable thoughts about college life:

• 4 AM fire alarms in the dorm—trust me, this is no fun. The alarms are deafeningly loud, nobody except a zombie could sleep through this. There was an incident where a resident (probably drunk then) hit the alarm one fine morning. He was expelled soon thereafter.
• > 100°F temperatures during the Fall semesters. It’s just so hot. Fortunately, it’s dry heat, and practically every building on campus has air-conditioning. Temperatures drop drastically during the evenings though, so that brings some respite. The trick is to keep drinking fluids (no, not alcohol) otherwise I’d probably get dehydrated fast and pass out—not a pretty sight.
• Accompanying music students was fun, because I got to know about the various instruments first-hand from them. I’ve accompanied violinists, flautists, brass players, etc. And vocal majors are fun too, because half the time they seemed to be more nervous than I. The wonderful thing was that these students were serious in what they were doing—we’d be discussing tempi, sorting out difficult passages, and more often than not I had to make them feel at ease. No, I wasn’t a fierce dragon, it was just their nerves, honest. Modesty aside, when end-of-semester juries approached, my phone would be ringing off the hook—sometimes I would try not to enter the Music building, because I had frantic voice and instrumental majors searching in vain for an accompanist. Are we having fun yet?
• Going to my first American Football game was an incredible experience—the UA stadium is so darn big, accommodating more than 57,000 people. And the UA’s Marching Band played their hearts out during half-times, fantastic. Last but not least, eye-candy in the form of the cheerleaders.
• Attending various music concerts on campus was great too. There were many free staff and student concerts happening all semester at Crowder Hall. I managed to catch Kenny Rogers at the McKale Center as a friend decided not to go and gave me the ticket—so why not? He was in top form, crooning in front of 15,000 fans. I saw George Benson, Chuck Mangione, and Spyro Gyra too, among others.
• I also vividly recall all those solitary practice sessions in the Music Building basement. There was always a cacophony of sound coming from the practice rooms, and sometimes it was so difficult to concentrate on what I was playing. There were metronomes tick-tocking, it was crazy. But there was good interaction between us music students, discussing stuff, sometimes just goofing off, that sort of thing. Yeah I thought those were stressful times, but they seemed very carefree compared to the present. I want to go back!
• Don’t tell my mom, but hee hee, I found time to watch TV and movies too. This was the era of Dallas, Dynasty, Hill Street Blues (let’s be careful out there!), Knight Rider, Magnum P.I., etc. The first Star Wars trilogy had yet to end, in fact I watched Return of the Jedi here in Tucson. And Star Trek 2: The Wrath of Khan had just come out. And E.T. (great flick) The list goes on and on. I usually watched TV in the lobby area, but when a friend wanted to sell his small TV for cheap, I bought it for a paltry $10. Later when I left the States for good, I sold it for $20—how’s that?
• I can’t leave out the music that I liked at this moment in my life. For starters I was just getting into Pat Metheny (I have so many of his CDs now) the man’s a genius. Not forgetting Styx, Journey, The Alan Parsons Project (listening to it right now!) Oscar Peterson, Al Jarreau, etc. That’s the great thing about music—evoking memories of years past for me. What a cliché, but those were good times. And last but not least, classical music—I loved it, especially going to the Music Library during my free times, pulling out a record or two and then just listening. Pure bliss. Unfortunately, when I brought some records and cassettes home, they warped and gave all kinds of trouble—thank goodness for compact discs! My classical collection now is completely on CD.

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You mean there’s life in college? Sure thing—I wake up in the mornings, shower, eat breakfast, go to classes, have lunch, attend more classes, run some errands or do some chores, complete my assignments, study (couldn’t leave that one out could I), have dinner, watch some TV, study a bit more, and then go to bed. That’s a typical day, and of course sometimes, it gets very humdrum, but that’s the way it is. I did allow myself some leisure time too, otherwise I’d go nuts. I remember frequenting the Gallagher Theater on campus to watch movies—it was cheap then, about $2 per movie. And it’s only $3 now!

Other times, I’d be in the games arcade, killing some aliens or joining a friend in a game of pool (I was actually getting pretty good in this). Or I’d go to the bookstore (after its refurbishment, the SU bookstore was a pretty nice place to while my time away) or the Main Library—no surfing the web in those days, so I’d read a lot, be it my own studies or other materials. I remember subscribing to TIME and Newsweek magazines—the US editions were far superior to the International edition that I get here in Malaysia.

It was also the time where I had to do some ensemble performances. I remember hooking up with a guitarist by the name of Jeff Williams for some Jazz Combo credits. It was fun, there was this one time we played at a place called the Sawmill and other friends dropped by to lend support. And the tip jar—now that was an important thing! How I wish I could have one in the hotel where I play now. Those were good days, earning some (tax free) pocket money.

The American university system also required me to take elective classes, especially during my freshman and sophomore years. So I did, with subjects like Atmospheric Sciences, Geology, Sociology, Psychology, Oriental Studies, etc. Plus I had to do two semesters of PE and I opted for Golf, of all things. Nice thing about this was the fact that I could head off from campus to the Tucson Golf Course (I hitched rides with another student who was attending the same) and I’ll never forget Coach Tatum. Oh, he was funny, and he was always picking on me. He’d say stuff like “Phil, watch the ball, not that pretty girl beside you.” Coach Tatum, if you’re reading this, kudos to you!

I also worked as a busboy (a restaurant employee who clears away dirty dishes, sets tables, and serves as an assistant to a waiter or waitress) at one of the teachers’ restaurants for a semester or two, since I learned that it was tax-free and foreign students were eligible. However, I recall that I was taking a massive 21 units of classes, but I persisted, because the minimum wage wasn’t so bad, and again, I had money in my pocket, my own hard-earned money (I think my parents were proud too). My boss at that restaurant was a middle-aged lady of German origin, Hilda. She was a kind soul, and I got along very well with her and the other student employees. There was one week when I was having a really bad cold—she told me to take a day or two off but I stubbornly refused, because that is one busy restaurant. As a busboy I worked non-stop right from the moment I clocked in until I clocked out. It was tiring at times but it was a terrific experience for me.

I now had my own circle of friends, so I wasn’t feeling too lonely. I attended quite a few study groups, usually with other music students. It was fun to study, debate, ask questions, and someone would always bring along a huge pot of coffee and cookies (yay!) At this time too, I was singing or playing for the University Community Chorus group—it was a mix of college students and people from within the Tucson community. It was great fun then, to just chill and talk to people who were so friendly. This is a far cry from what you see on TV or the movies. Interacting with real people from the community, I liked that.

The Spring semester was coming to an end. My parents decided that it was better for me to take a break and return home for the Summer, rather than paying for accommodation, meals, etc. in Tucson (which would actually cost more than my return airfare) It was nice to be able to return home to Malaysia and relax for a while. Before I left, I asked Joan at the International Student Office whether she’d kindly mail my Spring semester grade report to me and of course she said yes. So one fine summer’s day, I receive this note from her in the mail, together with my Spring ‘81 grade report:

It turns out that I scored A’s in all my classes with the exception of one, where I obtained a B. Nevertheless, my GPA of 3.8 meant that my Scholarship would continue for the following academic year—yay!!

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