A Life in the Day: Linh Dao

The 17-year-old Vietnamese student has been living in North Wales and is among thousands of others waiting for her A-Level exam results. It is her second summer in the UK. She lives in quite an “international home” with a British landlady and two Indian housemates.

YES I FEEL HOMESICK AND LONELY SOMETIMES, BUT I SHOULD REMIND MYSELF THAT I’M STILL LUCKY ENOUGH TO EXIST AND HAVE A SHELTER.

Now that college is over, I usually get up at 9am, sometimes 10 if there is a good film the night before. Still sitting on my bed, I try to recall my dreams, always series of weird adventures making no sense at all; but interesting enough to give me new energy for the day.

Then I look out of my big window to enjoy the glorious view of the coast, if it’s clear of course. I tend to have my camera nearby in case I feel the need to capture the scene. There is an odd attraction of such natural beauty that I can’t help taking photos, resulting in similar pictures in my collection afterwards. At least that is a plus point of living uphill. I don’t mind walking down the muddy path on rainy days in exchange for a tranquil environment.

Breakfast is simple: cornflakes or muesli, 2 slices of toast and tea. I don’t like my tea bitter so I put milk for half of the cup and 2 teaspoons of sugar. Back home I would have different food for breakfast, most of which are made from sticky rice, but the basic elements are the same. After all, we need carbohydrate.

It will be a waste if on a fine day you don’t go walking as that’s what the place is for. Thus, with my camera and MP3 player, I set off for fresh air. Whether I head for the shore or the mountain is directed by the spontaneity of my feet. Tourists flock around the popular attractions, which gives me a strange sense of pride, as if this was my second hometown. I enjoy just sitting on a bench staring into the unknown. The colour blue is everywhere: sea and sky; I like blue, though blue is “blue”-sad. Yes I feel homesick and lonely sometimes, but I should remind myself that I’m still lucky enough to exist and have a shelter.


Once I was caught in the rain whilst venturing up the Little Orme. There were just me and the goats; I couldn’t see the way in such poor visibility. So I huddled under the umbrella, imagining a helicopter would come to a rescue. Fortunately I “survived” after several attempts to find the path down the foot. It was a memorable trip that I proudly told my friends about.

I return home for lunch, which comprises of sandwiches and a mug of hot chocolate. I might skip it if I stay in all day. I don’t think I need that much energy for being lazy. Being abroad means the only way I can communicate with my family is via the Internet. I spend about 2 hours talking to my mum and sister. Mum makes sure that I don’t overspend or underspend, while my dad writes me words of wisdom in his emails. I can’t wait to fly home, it’s been nearly 10 months and I sure have missed out on a lot of fun. My friends also chat with me using instant messenger; “Cheer up”, “We’re always besides you” are frequently said whenever I feel down.
I cook dinner at 6pm. I’m not really keen on stuff that can be eaten instantly using the microwave or oven. I like it fresh, since it’s more nutritious and delicious. Not that I’m a good cook, but my stir-fries are okay.

TV is the main source of entertainment in the evening, whether it’s news or competitions, I feel connected with the outside world. I think Newsnight is just as exciting as X-Factor. Then I sit back and write my diary. It’s not something “sensational to read” like Oscar Wilde said about his, but at least it’s my own world I can reflect on.

I turn in at 1 or 2am. Recounting events of the day, I gently enter my dreams.

A typical day of the summer before entering university - 2008