In case readers do not understand the greeting displayed above, it is a greeting used commonly in the author’s place of ubringing: Saipan, CNMI. If you do not know where this small island is, he suggests you look at a map. Or rather, open up a new tab and Google it. Won’t take you too long.
The author, Henry Chan, was born and raised on the aforementioned tropical island, finally leaving after seventeen years of isolation from the American culture. The haole culture, as white people are fondly (or, at times, not so fondly) called back on said island. Feeling like he needed a radical change in environment, the author hopped on a plane and suffered through twenty-four hours in a flying metal tube before he finally landed in the greatest city on Earth: New York City.
Aah, the Big Apple. The frenetic pace by which everyone walked and talked was a welcome change for the author. By the end of his first month, the author had mastered the art of dodging by slow-moving pedestrians and developed an intense hatred for tourists. Ironically, the author learned how to be patient in this city, despite having grown up as an impatient, petulant child on the laid-back tropical island he called home.
He now attends New York University, studying journalism and politics. Does he want to be a journalist or a politician? Don’t ask, because he doesn’t know. Indecisiveness is one thing that constantly plagues the author. He “dropped” his journalism major three times in the course of one semester.
So yes, this is all the author wishes you readers to know about him. If you wish to know more, please don’t hesitate to contact him. He will most likely find it weird that you sent him an email, and will probably write an awkward response, but he’s a nice fella and won’t ignore you.
Or maybe he will.