At work today, we got a job to print someone’s family history. Heh, it was rather fascinating, just looking through the 300 odd pages of the book. The book was about some guy who lived in the mid 19th century and you have a family history tree dating back to the late 17th century, probably originating from England. Not sure where along the line the family moved over to Australia. For some odd reason, I was sort of reminded of the book Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte, the abridged version I had to read in highschool.

Looking at myself, there isn’t much to trace back to. I have cousins who can trace their roots back to a certain province in China, but for me, the furthest I know off are my grandparents, and that’s just the early 20th century, not more than 90 or so years ago. Compared to the guy mentioned above, my history’s pretty recent. I wonder what it’d be like to actually find out who my ancestors were. If it were even possible to meet them, I’d probably have a hard time communicating. I speak with my grandmother in Hakka, although my ability to speak in that dialect has waned over the years I’ve spent away from home.