Hullaballoo in the tree:

Raising children in two contrast cultures.

By Rianda Hardi Dewanta

Hullaballoo in the tree (2002) is short story from Hanif Kureishi that has main character

man who lives in England but has Indian roots and raising his children there. This short story

has setting in the playground and outside the playground at the Sunday. There is one focus in

this short story; protagonist character; father effort to raise children in two different ways;

western with freedom and eastern way with authority. Therefore, the theme on this short story is

the way of main character to raising his children in two-contrast culture.

World has built by two contrast factors by means east and west, inferior and superior,

submissive and permissive, etc. In case of east and west, the contrast is the difference culture,

one of them in way to raise children (article focus). East culture has raise their children with full

of authority, so eastern parents feel they are the really an adult with full of authority. In contrast

with east, the way to raise children in western culture is full of freedom and western parents feel

they are adult when they successfully raise their children as their friend in case on solve problem,

discussion and etc. One of the evidence that explain about two-contrast difference culture is in

Hanif Kureishi’s short story titled Hullaballoo in the tree (2002). It can be explicate by see what

happen behind the text itself.

This short story reveals the way of two cultures that contrast each other to raise children.

Two-contrast cultures have exposed to immigrants who immigrate to their former main land and

they restrict to raise children because of in one case they want to be western, but they cannot

leave their origin culture. In this article, the experience of two-contrast cultures explained

through the characters father attitudes to bring up his children. On the one hand, main character
wants to be like an ordinary father in the West, and on the other hand, main character feels

encouraged to raise his children as they do in India, with respect and authority. The story is

explained from theme; the division between two cultures who is alienated to each other.

Two-contrast cultures that alienated each other can have meant the cultures that cannot

stand together. In this short story, clearly appear in the main character behavior to raise his

children in two such ways, but never successfully to be western or eastern; the culture style that

he uses to raise children. First, main character uses new culture; western culture to raising

children. It can be identify by effort of main character; father to bring up his children in the

western father style to raise children. The concept of western to raise children is full of freedom

and the main character gives it to his children. The concept of two cultures that alienated each

other clearly appears here, because the main character who is Indian immigrant give freedom to

his children that commonly use in the original western culture to raise his children and try to be a

mainstream.

In another hand, as an immigrant, the main character cannot leave his owns eastern

culture. The main character need to be gain full respect and authority from children because the

main character cannot stand all about freedom concept that he use. It has opposite with the

mainstream that has concept of freedom. The main character wants to impress his children with

his heroic actions in front of their eyes in order to gain respect and he can give authority to his

children as the concept of gaining children in the contemporary eastern culture. It is unclearly the

main character also alienated western culture by gain authority and disvalue of freedom from his

children.
Identify main character

The main character in this short story is a second generation in England in this short story

called father. He has three children; in this short story, they called first seven-year old twin,

Second seven-year old twin and two years old. The main character is rooted from large Indian

family who one of their member immigrate to England.

“…He knew that this act would, somehow, draw out numerous men from neighboring houses, some just

finishing their 'tea'. Papa, an immigrant, the subject of curiosity, comment and, sometimes, abuse, would

soon have these men - civil servants, clerks, shop owners, printers or milkmen - united in rolling up their

sleeves, grumbling, lighting cigarettes, and offering technical opinions…

… The father had loved being out on the street with Papa. From a large Indian family, Papa had never

thought of children as an obstacle, or nuisance. They were everywhere, and part of life. “

Main character past is in Indian culture, but he live and try to raise his children in the mainstream

way. These contradictions based on the way to raising children in two-contrast cultures elucidate

by main character attitude; give freedom and authority.

Two contrast-cultures

Two-contrast cultures that alienated each other can explain by seen side-by-side both of

cultures. First, let identify it in western side that use of main character, ‘Father’ to raise children.

It can identify by disregarding eastern culture of father in order to raise his children,

consequently the main character use western culture. Larsen (2009) insist in the western culture

parents evidently gives more freedom to their children, and they are not that strict when it comes

to the upbringing of the children. The main character wants to raise children as western as do,

but the main character is eastern. In another hand, the character father is adopting mainstream
manner to raise their children. The activity to adopt mainstream manner to raise children has

clarify through the way of western to give freedom to their children.

Mainstream manner to rise of children has complete filling with freedom concept. They

let their children to be free and take them as the friend not children with total fright and inferior

feeling to their parents. Pathan (1997) insists there are four concept of freedom (1) freedom of

ownership, (2) freedom of belief, (3) freedom of expression, and (4) freedom of individual. As

soon as mainstream parents to raise their children, they give some freedom to them especially in

freedom of expression and freedom of individual in their childhood time.

The result of freedom that gives by the main character has make main character’s

paradigm become western at all. In order to raising children the four concept of freedom is

clearly clarify in this short story. In the freedom of ownership main character; father let his

children own their self whether they want to be, “The children had been asking for drinks; he

wanted coffee. What better way was there to spend Sunday morning in the adult world?” .The

children feel they completely own their self. Although they are still being in childhood, they

would like an adult. The smallest unit freedom of ownership is give by main character to his

children; freedom ownership to own self. Thus, the children feel they are friend to their parents

without get complain from their parents because of freedom of ownership.

In this short story, the freedom of belief that gives by main character to his children is the

children belief their parent is the best so; they imitate to be him. The main character never push

his children to be like him, but their children would like to imitate him, as similar as Sigmund

Freud said in Barry (2002) “the male infant conceives the desire to eliminate his father as sexual

partner of the mother, but then the male infant imitate his father and become the projection of his
father”. The freedom of belief also supports the children to be like as their father, because they

already sexual partner to their mother, “Why was it that the time he most wanted to talk to her

was when she was engaged with someone else?”Then, the children belief that their father is the

best, it also gives by main character to his children as the freedom of belief. The imitations that

do by main character’s children is show by the attitude of children do as similar as their father

do, wear as similar as their father wear.

The freedom of expression that gives by main character to his children is let the children

become English at all. The children feel free to express anything that they feel and think without

get complain by their parents, in this case his father.

The two year old said, "Stuck."

"Bloody hell," said the father.

"Bloody bloody," repeated the two year old.

 The father glanced towards the playground. His wife-to-be still hadn't emerged.

They allowed saying anything that they want, and they feel that they are western, although they

are rooted from Indian family who immigrate to England. In another hand, the main character

does not complaint about his child diction to express, because of the main character paradigm;

the way of thinking is regard to western way, imitate the mainstreams to raise children.

The three concept that explained above is indicate to one point; individual freedom. The

freedom of ownership, belief, and expression bring to the way of mainstream live in western. It

is individualism. In this short story, individualism is shown by the way of main character

children; the two years old refuse use clothes that his mother suggest to wear, and the two-years

old already have choice, although his family root from the eastern. The freedom to have choice
in live is the representation of mainstream way to raising children in the context of western

culture.

However, the context of western culture is not always appropriate with the immigrant to

raising children in the western country. The immigrant feels freedom that they give to their

children has been reducing their encouragement, authority and the feeling as adult in the eastern

way. Although they are live in western and try to raise their children in mainstream way, they

cannot leave their eastern way as people who come from the east.

In this case, the immigrant who cannot leave their eastern culture in raising children

although live in the western country and try to use western culture can be categorize as floating

immigrant. In one hand, they already leave the eastern, but they also cannot accept the western

because they cannot leave their mindset about east at all.

The main characteristic of eastern to rising children is to give some authority to them, so

there is some gap between children and parents. The parents gives authority because of

necessitate to respect that they gain from their children. Nguyen (2002) insists the Asians

children should have full loyalty to authority figures and single way communications, adult to

children. Eastern parents that immigrate to western country cannot leave the aspect of authority

because of the mind set of eastern parents is full loyalty to authority give figure and single way

of communication or gain full respect from children.

Back to the short story, the concept of freedom that gives by the main character father is

unsuccessful because of his mind set about the way of eastern. Although main character is the

second generation of Indian immigrant in England, he cannot leave his way of cultural past to

raising children.
 The problem is," replied the kid, "he's a brown face."

The father, furious and agitated ever since, thought he should start being more authoritative. "We're going!"

he said now, in what he considered to be almost his 'sharpest' voice” (Hullaballoo in the tree, p.1)

The mainstream way to raising children in main character mindset is fail. He still uses eastern

way to raising children clearly. The freedom has changed to authority and the main character

show this authority to their children with hopes gaining full loyalty to authorities figure from his

children.

The single way communication from the older to younger is include the way of eastern

to raising children. In this case, the all words, and order of older must be obey to younger, but

the older should not obey younger order, words. In this short story, main character applies that

way because he wants to feel adult in eastern culture.

The twins were still throwing things, mostly at one another's heads.

         "Stop that!" ordered the father, coming back. "Let's have some discipline here!"

         "You told us to do it!" said the oldest.

         The second twin said, "Don't worry, I'm going up."

Gaining full single communication include the way of eastern culture to raise their children.

After gaining that communication style, the parents would be gain full authority from their

children and they feel they are an adult in case of eastern way.

Beside the authority and single way of communication, there are some eastern ways to

raising children. It is Nguyen (2002) said that Family problems hidden from public and handled

within the family, and Mental illness is shameful and represents family failure. These factors are

showing the characteristic of eastern to raise children.

 In the short story, the family problem that rises is when the ball is stuck in top of high

tree at the park. Main character, father tries to climb this tree and it hard to him gaining the top of

tree. He rejects help from outside because he thinks that his own family’s problem can resolved

by his status as the leader of his family.

“A man had joined them, holding the hands of two little girls. They were all looking up.

The youngest twin said, "Stupid Daddy was showing off and..."

The man was already removing his jacket and handing it to one of the girls, saying, "Don't worry, I'm

here."…

The father looked at the man, who was in his late 30s, ruddy faced and unfit looking, wearing thick glasses.

He had on a pink ironed shirt and the sort of shoes that people wore to the office.

 "It's only a cheap ball," said the father.

 "We were just leaving," said the wife-to-be.”

The main character thinks that he is leader of his family and he does not need any body outside

his family help to solve his own family’s problem. The way of eastern way to educate their

children, especially male, is clearly educate main character children as the eastern, but they only

live in western country.

The mental illness is the shame of family members. This is clearly motivating the main

character, father to raise his children in eastern way. Disrespect to adult is the factor that father

claim their children have some mental illness. Main character need to cure the mental illness

because of the main character did not want feel shy in front of his eastern friend.

A week ago, in this park, they had run into an Indian friend, a doctor, who'd been shocked by the disrespect

and indiscipline of the father's children. The second seven-year old twin, the one in the Indiana Jones hat,

had said to the doctor friend, "What are you - an idiot?"

The father had had to apologize.

 "They are speaking to everyone like this?" the friend had said to the father. "I know we live here now, but

you have let them become Western, in the worst way!"

Disrespect is showing by the children to their father friend who immigrant. The children think

they are western at all. However, main character father see this is mental illness, which can be

disvalue his status as father in eastern culture. So that based on the mental illness, father in this

short story give some authority to his children.

Conclusion

The eastern and western cultures to raising children are contrasting each other. The

freedom and authority cannot stand each other. Because of the freedom will be moving to the

privacy and more private to their children but authority cannot have it. In the short story

Hullaballoo in the tree, it is clearly experienced that the hullaballoo itself means the noise that

produce by something different.”In the tree” it explained as the parents. Because of tree have

seed; it is children. When those things are combined hullaballoo and in the tree, conclude,

hullaballoo in the tree means the hybrid of Asians immigrant style to raise their children in the

western country.
 Bibliography

Barry, Peter. 2002. Beginning Theory. New York: Manchester UP.

Kureishi, Hanif. 2002. Hullaballoo in the tree. Retrivied on April 5th 2011.

< http://www.hanifkureishi.com/tree.html>

Larsen , Mikaela Ølholm . 2009. Hullabaloo in the Tree. Herning Gymnasium. Nawala Project
Retrieved on April 7th 2011
< http://block.nawala.org/?39acabcb3909e615e7c521c54caaf44fc369fa750f11cc>

Nguyen, Linda. 2002. Characteristics of the Traditional Asian Family. Retrieved on April 15th
2001.
<http://www.coedu.usf.edu/zalaquett/mcdp/Asian%20handout.htm.>

Pathan, Mazhar Khan. 1997. The concept of freedom. Retrieved on April 11st 2011.

<http://www.iol.ie/~afifi/BICNews/Personal/personal9.htm.>
Attachment

Hullabaloo in the Tree

Hanif Kureishi

        "Come along now!"

        The father, having had enough, decided it was time they all left the
playground.
        A week ago, in this park, they had run into an Indian friend, a
doctor, who'd been shocked by the disrespect and indiscipline of the
father's children. The second seven-year old twin, the one in the Indiana
Jones hat, had said to the doctor friend, "What are you - an idiot?"
        The father had had to apologize.
        "They are speaking to everyone like this?" the friend had said to the
father. "I know we live here now, but you have let them become Western, in the worst way!"
        No English friend would have presumed to say such a thing, the father had commented,
later at home.
        "The problem is," replied the kid, "he's a brown face."
        The father, furious and agitated ever since, thought he should start being more authoritative.

        "We're going!" he said now, in what he considered to be almost his 'sharpest' voice.
        He picked up the blue plastic ball, and strode out of the enclosed playground and into the
park. The seven-year old twins had been hitting one another with sticks and the two-year old had
been flung from the roundabout, scraping his leg.
        Still, they would walk across Primrose Hill to a cafe on the other side. The children had
been asking for drinks; he wanted coffee. What better way was there to spend Sunday morning in
the adult world?
        To his surprise, his three sons followed him without complaint. He his friend should have
been there to witness such impressive obedience. His wife-to-be had run into an acquaintance
and he could see her still chatting, beside the swings. He had already interrupted her once. Why
was it that the time he most wanted to talk to her was when she was engaged with someone else?
        Outside the playground, in the open park, with the hill rising up in front of him and the sky
beyond it, he felt like walking forwards for a long time with his eyes closed, leaving everyone
behind, in order, for a bit, to have no thoughts. For years, before his children were born, he
seemed to have forfeited Sundays altogether. Now the poses, the attitude, the addictions and,
worst of all, the sense of unlimited time, had been replaced by a kind of exhausting chaos and a
struggle, in his mind, to work out what he should be doing, and who he had to be to satisfy
others.
        He didn't walk towards the hill, however, but stood there and held the ball out in front of
him.
        "Watch, you guys! Pay attention!" he said.
        What were fathers for if not to kick balls high into the air while their sons leaned back,
exclaiming, "Wow, you've nearly broken through the clouds! How do you do that, daddy!"?
        He enjoyed it when, after this display, they grabbed the ball and tried to kick it as he had
done. The seven year olds, who lived a few streets away with their mother but were staying for
the weekend, had begun to imitate many of the things he did, some of which he was proud of but
also that which was ridiculous or irrelevant, like wearing dark glasses in the evening. When they
went out together they resembled the Blues Brothers. Even the two year old had begun to copy
the languid way he spoke and the way he lay on the couch, reading the paper. It was like being
surrounded by a crowd of venomous cartoonists.
        Now the father dropped the ball towards his foot but miskicked it.
        "Higher, daddy!" called the two year old. "Up, up, sky!"
        The two-year-old had long blonde hair, jaggedly cut by his mother, who leaned over his cot
with a torch and scissors while he was asleep. The boy was wearing a nappy, socks, T-shirt and
shoes, but had refused to put his trousers on. The father had lacked the heart to force him.
        The father jogged across and fetched the ball. Making the most of their attention while he
still had it, he screamed, "Giggs, Scholes, Beckham, daddy, daddy, daddy - it's gone in!" and
drove the ball as hard and far as he could, before slipping over in the mud.
        Some shared silences, particularly those of confusion and disbelief; you never want to end,
so rare and involving are they.
        The oldest twin set down and opened the small suitcase in which he kept his guns, the books
he'd written and a photograph of the Empire State Building. He peered into the tree through the
wrong end of his new binoculars.
        "It's far, far away, nearly in heaven," he said. "Here, you see."
        The father got to his feet. Removing his sunglasses, he was already looking up to where the
ball, like an errant crown, was resting on a nest of smallish twigs, at the top of a tree not far from
the entrance to the playground.
        The two year old said, "Stuck."
        "Bloody hell," said the father.
        "Bloody bloody," repeated the two year old.
        The father glanced towards the playground. His wife-to-be still hadn't emerged.
        "Throw things!" he said. One of the older boys picked up a leaf and tossed it backwards
over his head. The father said, "Hard things, men! Come on! Together we can do this!"
        The twins, who welcomed the pure concentration of a crisis, began to run about gathering
stones and conkers. The father did the same. The youngest boy jumped up and down, flinging
bits of bark. Soon the air was filled with a hail of firm objects, one of which struck a dog and
another the leg of a kid passing on a bicycle. The father picked up one of the twins' metal guns
and hurled it wildly into the tree.
        "You'll break it," said the son reproachfully. "I only got it yesterday." The father began to
march away. "Where are you going?" called the boy.
        "I'm not going to hang around here all day!" replied the father. "I need coffee - right now!"
        He would leave the cheap plastic ball and, if necessary, buy another one on the way home.
        Did he, though, want his sons to see him as the sort of man to kick balls into trees and stroll
away? What would he be doing next, dropping twenty pound notes and leaving them on the
street because he couldn't be bothered to bend down?
        "What are you up to?" His wife-to-be had come out of the playground. She picked up the
youngest child and kissed his eyes. "What has daddy done now?" she said.
        The twins were still throwing things, mostly at one another's heads.
        "Stop that!" ordered the father, coming back. "Let's have some discipline here!"
        "You told us to do it!" said the oldest.
        The second twin said, "Don't worry, I'm going up."
        Probably the most intrepid of the two older boys, he ran to the base of the tree.
        As well as his Indiana Jones hat, the second twin was wearing a rope at his belt 'for
lassoing', though the only thing he seemed to catch was the neck of the two-year old, whom
otherwise, most of the time, he liked. At six o'clock that morning the father had found him
showing the little one his penis, explaining that if he tugged at the end and thought, as he put it,
about something 'really horrible, like Catwoman', it would feel 'sweet and sour' and 'quite
relaxed'.
        The boy was saying, "Push me up, daddy. Push, push, push!"
        The father bundled him into the fork of the tree, where he clung on enthusiastically but
precariously, like someone who'd been dumped on the back of a horse for the first time.
        "Put me up there too," said a girl of about nine, who'd been watching and was now jumping
up and down beside him. "I can climb trees!"
        The two year old, who had a tooth coming through and whose face was red and constantly
wet, said, "Me in tree."
        "I can't put the whole lot of you of up there," said the father.
        The youngest said, "Daddy go in tree."
        "Good idea," said his wife-to-be.
        "I'd be up there like a shot," said the father. "But not in this new shirt."
        His wife-to-be was laughing. "And not in any month with a 'r' in it."
        Unlike most of his male antecedents, the father had never fought in a war, nor had he been
called upon for any act of physical bravery. He had often wondered what sort of man he'd be in
such circumstances.
        "Right," he said. "You'll see!"
        They were all watching as the father helped the boy down and clambered into the tree
himself. His wife-to-be, who was ten years younger, shoved him with unnecessary roughness
from behind, until he was out of reach.
        Feeling unusually high up, the father waved grandly like a President in the door of an
aeroplane. His family waved back. He extended a foot onto another branch and put his weight
onto it. It cracked immediately and gave way; he stepped back to safety, hoping no one had
noticed the blood drain from his face.
        He might, this Sunday morning, be standing on tip-toe in the fork of a tree, a slip away from
hospital and years of pain, but he did notice that he had the quiet attention of his family, without
the usual maelstrom of their demands. He thought that however much he missed the peace and
irresponsibility of his extended bachelorhood, he had at least learned that life was no good on
your own. Next week, though, he was going to America for five months, to do research. He
would ring the kids but knew they were likely to say, in the middle of a conversation, "Goodbye,
we have to watch the Flintstones," and replace the receiver. When he returned, how different
would they be?
        Through the buzz of his whirling thoughts, he could hear his wife-to-be's voice.
        "Shake it!" she was calling.
        "Wiggle it!" shouted one of the boys.
        "Go, go, go!" yelled the girl.
        "Okay, okay!" he muttered.
        At their instigation, he leaned against a fat branch in front of him, grasped it, gritted his
teeth, and agitated it. To his surprise and relief there was some commotion in the leaves above
him. But he could also see that there was no relation between this activity and the position of the
ball, far away.
        The nine year old girl was now climbing into the tree with him, reaching out and grasping
the belt of his trousers as she levered herself up. If he thought it was getting a little cramped on
this junction, she immediately started up into the higher branches, stamping on his fingers as she
disappeared.
        Soon there was a tremendous shaking, far greater than his own, which brought leaves,
twigs, small branches and bark raining onto the joggers, numerous children and an old woman on
sticks, who were now staring into the hullabaloo in the tree.
        This was a good time, he figured, to abandon his position. He would pick the ball up when
the girl knocked it down. In fifteen minutes time he would be eating a buttered croissant and
sipping a semi-skimmed decaf latte. He might even be able to look at his newspaper.
        "What's going on?"
        A man had joined them, holding the hands of two little girls. They were all looking up.
        The youngest twin said, "Stupid Daddy was showing off and..."
        "All right," said the father.
        The man was already removing his jacket and handing it to one of the girls, saying, "Don't
worry, I'm here."
        The father looked at the man, who was in his late 30s, ruddy faced and unfit looking,
wearing thick glasses. He had on a pink ironed shirt and the sort of shoes that people wore to the
office.
        "It's only a cheap ball," said the father.
        "We were just leaving," said the wife-to-be.
        The man spat in his palms and rubbed them together. "It's been a long time!"
        He hurried towards the tree and climbed into it. He didn't stop at the fork, but kept moving
up, greeting the girl, who was a little ahead of him, and then, on his hands and knees, scrambling
beyond her, into the flimsier branches.
        "I'm coming to get you ball...just you wait...ball..." he said as he went.
        Like the father and the girl, he shook the tree continuously. He was surprisingly strong and
this time the tree seemed to be exploding.
        Below, the crowd shielded their faces or stepped back from the storm of detritus but they
didn't stop looking and voicing their encouragement.
        "What if he breaks his neck?" said the wife-to-be.
        "I'll try and catch him," said the father, moving to another position.
        The father remembered his own father, Papa, in the street outside their house in the evening,
after tea, when they'd first bought a car. Like a lot of men then, particularly those who fancied
themselves as intellectuals, Papa was proud of his practical uselessness. Nevertheless, Papa
could, at least, open the bonnet of his car, secure it and stare into it, looking mystified.
        He knew that this act would, somehow, draw out numerous men from neighboring houses,
some just finishing their 'tea'. Papa, an immigrant, the subject of curiosity, comment and,
sometimes, abuse, would soon have these men - civil servants, clerks, shop owners, printers or
milkmen - united in rolling up their sleeves, grumbling, lighting cigarettes, and offering technical
opinions.
        They would remain out in the street long after dark, fetching tools and lying on their backs
in patches of grease, Papa's immigrant helplessness drawing their assistance.
        The father had loved being out on the street with Papa. From a large Indian family, Papa
had never thought of children as an obstacle, or nuisance. They were everywhere, and part of
life.
        The three pale boys, Papa's grandchildren, born after he'd died, were looking up at the
helpful man in the tree and the ball, where it sat in it's familiar position. Had the ball had a face,
it would have been smiling for, as the man agitated the tree, it rose and fell like a small boat
sitting comfortably on a lilting wave.
        The man, by now straddling a swaying bough, twisted and broke off a long thin branch. At
full stretch, he used it to jab at the ball which, by now, was bobbing a little. At last, after a final
poke, it was out and falling.
        The children ran towards it.
        "Ball, ball!" cried the youngest.
        The wife-to-be began to gather the children's things.
        The man jumped down out of the tree with his arms raised in triumph. His shirt, which was
hanging out, was covered in thick black marks; his hands were filthy, his shoes were scuffed, but
he looked ecstatic.
        One of his daughters handed him his jacket. The father's wife-to-be tried to wipe him down.
        "I loved that," he said. "Thanks."
        The two men shook hands.
        The father picked up the ball and threw it to the youngest child, who kicked it.
        Soon the family caravan was making its way across the park with their bikes, guns, hats, the
youngest's sit-in car, a bag of nappies, a pair of binoculars [in the suitcase], and the unharmed
plastic ball. The children, laughing and shoving one another, were discussing their 'adventure'.
        The father looked around, afraid but also hoping his Indian friend had come to the park
today. By now he had something to say. If children, like desire, broke up that which seemed
settled, it was a virtue. Much as he might want to, he couldn't bring up his kids by strict rules or a
system. He could only do it, as people seemed to do most things in the end, according to the way
he was, the way he lived in the world, as an example and guide. This was harder than pretending
to be an authority, but more true.
        Now, at the far side of the park, as the children went out through the gate, the father turned
to look back at the disheveled tree in the distance. How small it seemed now! It had been
agitated but not broken. He would think of it each time he returned to the park; he would think
about something good that had happened on the way to somewhere else.
 Journal mid-term assignment

Hullaballoo in the tree; raising children in two contrast

cultures

by

Rianda Hardi Dewanta

(83676/07)

English Departement
Faculty Language and Art
Padang State University
2011