Arti Liu Yihao: 12th University Scholars Leadership Symposium (USLS) Student Reflection

Years from now, when we come across the photos that leap out from the album, we will reminisce about that distant afternoon in Bangkok.

The experience at USLS was, in truth, a blend of pain and joy. Where did the pain come from? The four-day conference was truly exhausting. The distance from the hotel to the venue, combined with Bangkok’s less-than-ideal traffic, meant that I had to drag myself out of bed at five each morning, groggy and disoriented, rushing through my morning routine, changing clothes, eating breakfast, and boarding the bus. The four hours of sleep each night became the greatest challenge I faced during my time in Bangkok; I hadn’t worked so hard since high school. And where did the joy lie? It came from the realization that every experience, as I write these words, evokes only the thought of “what a wonderful week.” Sometimes I wonder if people only remember their happy moments and forget the pain. I repeatedly confirm this in my mind, probing my own heart, and the answer is always the same: indeed, it was a happy week.

 

 

During my time at USLS, I truly met many new classmates. Some came from Singapore, others from Malaysia; some flew in from Japan, and others from Taiwan. A wonderful twist of fate brought us together in Bangkok, allowing us to communicate, connect, and share our hearts, collectively crafting a narrative that perhaps all of us will look back on with happiness. The unexpected downpour on a Bangkok night, wandering aimlessly through a night market, and being startled by a cockroach in a restaurant—there are so many details to recall, yet I hesitate to do so. The happiness I immersed myself in then, when written down now, brings only a knowing smile. Memories are just memories; even if we reminisce, they won’t appear in tomorrow’s reality. Yet these memories do not merely linger in Bangkok. The world of the internet allows us to exchange greetings even after saying goodbye, keeping our connections alive.

 

 

 

Hello, Bangkok. At this point, the specifics of what happened at the USLS conference seem less significant; it served as a catalyst, uniting young people with shared ideals, and that alone is enough. Still, I am grateful for the knowledge imparted during those four days, which has greatly benefited me. The speakers’ presentations, the visits to refugee schools and camps, all provided me with the opportunity to engage with thoughtful individuals, to connect with those in need, and to encounter a group of people I might never have considered as an ordinary citizen. The eloquence of the speakers presented new perspectives I had never imagined. Animal rights advocates led us into uncharted territories, while the lively students in the refugee school made it hard to leave. Witnessing life in the camps inevitably stirred feelings of injustice in the world. Yet, after all was said and done, I found myself in doubt. As a mere university student, what could I really do? Everything I experienced at USLS felt like a dream, a grand reality show where we were just participants. When this dream ends and reality sets in, it all seems as if it never happened. No one will remember the so- called suffering, for only joy resides in our memories, and our lives are not so unbearable after all. I felt like a self-proclaimed educated individual from a civilized world, stepping into what I perceived as a barbaric land, fleetingly observing their lives with a sense of pity, forcing them to put on a performance that would never occur in a concrete city. Yet I still pretended to be engaged and interested, as if it were my right to intrude upon their lives. But who is truly more noble? I felt more barbaric than they; they are the ones from the civilized world.

 

 

As I pen these thoughts, I realize it has grown lengthy and rather freeform. There is still much I wish to express, but every piece must come to an end; how could there be a banquet that lasts forever? I choose to keep the happiness and joy I found in Bangkok tucked away, to be revisited in the future.

 

 

It’s raining in Hong Kong; Bangkok, don’t weep for me.