Today on the plane ride back, I started wondering where exactly was the line drawn between the two distant worlds we had on the same globe -- the 1st world and the 3rd? Perhaps some sort of imaginary dotted line across the oceans, signaling the passage from one world to another. A magical boundary.

I imagined passing this invisible frontier, and all of a sudden, the children I saw in Cambodia had... a home. A complete education. A future. What a difference it would have made if they were born on the other side of the line.

I imagined a supernatural being covering his eyes while randomly throwing foetuses into the wombs of the world. The ones that landed on my side of the line got iPhones. They studied and complained in air-conditioned classrooms. They went on trips to less developed countries to "serve the community". The ones that landed on the other got otherwise. They settled with creaky furniture and rooms without fans. They suffer the after effects of a destructive dictatorial regime.

I wished more than anything that I could take those children with me. That I could carry them across the imaginary line. That I could openly defy the lottery of birth and undo what had been done.

But I couldn't.

My trip back to Singapore seemed more significant somehow. I was going back to more than my house and my parents. More than IB and academic stress. I was going back to my side.

I was crossing the boundary. The boundary that blessed some lives and destroyed others.

As we post our personal reflections online about our WoW trips on our smart phones or laptops in the comfort of air-conditioned rooms with quick accessibility to clean water and food, it once again accentuates how fortunate we are.
Even though our WoW efforts may in some sense seem like a token gesture, I am certain the entire experience has impacted each and everyone of us in one way or another, and that it has indeed served a greater purpose in awakening our sense of empathy and compassion. Perhaps it may also seem like a mere act to absolve or validate ourselves - to highlight that we are in fact kind and good people - but hopefully it will in some sense egg us to actually mould ourselves into better people.

Since we cannot change fate, or the past, we can only try our best to paint a brighter future for the entire world.

Today on the plane ride back, I started wondering where exactly was the line drawn between the two distant worlds we had on the same globe -- the 1st world and the 3rd? Perhaps some sort of imaginary dotted line across the oceans, signaling the passage from one world to another. A magical boundary.

I imagined passing this invisible frontier, and all of a sudden, the children I saw in Cambodia had... a home. A complete education. A future. What a difference it would have made if they were born on the other side of the line.

I imagined a supernatural being covering his eyes while randomly throwing foetuses into the wombs of the world. The ones that landed on my side of the line got iPhones. They studied and complained in air-conditioned classrooms. They went on trips to less developed countries to "serve the community". The ones that landed on the other got otherwise. They settled with creaky furniture and rooms without fans. They suffer the after effects of a destructive dictatorial regime.

I wished more than anything that I could take those children with me. That I could carry them across the imaginary line. That I could openly defy the lottery of birth and undo what had been done.

But I couldn't.

My trip back to Singapore seemed more significant somehow. I was going back to more than my house and my parents. More than IB and academic stress. I was going back to my side.

I was crossing the boundary. The boundary that blessed some lives and destroyed others.

As we post our personal reflections online about our WoW trips on our smart phones or laptops in the comfort of air-conditioned rooms with quick accessibility to clean water and food, it once again accentuates how fortunate we are.
Even though our WoW efforts may in some sense seem like a token gesture, I am certain the entire experience has impacted each and everyone of us in one way or another, and that it has indeed served a greater purpose in awakening our sense of empathy and compassion. Perhaps it may also seem like a mere act to absolve or validate ourselves - to highlight that we are in fact kind and good people - but hopefully it will in some sense egg us to actually mould ourselves into better people.

Since we cannot change fate, or the past, we can only try our best to paint a brighter future for the entire world.