[Quote]
I have a secret to reveal.
It all starts when I was a little kid. Sun, daylight, water, sparkling golds. I was there standing, amid people who spoke language I don’t understand, Mandarin, I figure. But I was happy, because I found shells half buried in the sand. Their intricate patterns dizzied me. So I dig. Dig down to see more. It was hard at first, but as my hand gets dirtier and dirtier, it went on track. I found fragments of seaweed, turning black. Then some rocks, rougher than the usual pebble I used to know. I should have encounter some crabs, but I didn’t. Then the sand became wet, and alas a damp: mixture of sand and water, applying buoyancy on my hands and trying to lift them to drift. Then suddenly someone pull me up onto his shoulder, and say ‘the tide is up!’ Father.
And that is my first memory of the sea. Or at least I think it is, from a picture of me digging in the family album.
And since then, I reminisce the feeling of drifting so often, either in my dream or in the reality.
The next memory was clearer. It was on a remote island of Malaysia, just like my family always does, somewhere mystic but safely within my ability. I was wandering in the cool morning breeze on the beach with my mother, suddenly froze by a small 5 inches lizard on a tilted coconut tree. It was beautiful. Dotted by little rose patches, its new green scales seem glittering but yet match the atmosphere of the island. I step forward, waring not too close for its alleged long tongue. But then a super large gozira-like 2 metres giant came out of nowhere, tails swiping in the sea water, facing me, a freaked-out 1.6 metres girl feeling dwarfed to 2 years old. I was so fear to hardly scream, and let both of them disappear in my sight, one less than 2s and the other about a century when keep absolute still. I kinda still believe that they were mother and child, so did my mom said, as she was there actually clinging so hard on to my arm.
The screen then jumps. It was the same trip. I was barely swimming in my first snorkelling for first time. I just lie there drifting, feeling the buoyant force and waves push me. Sea birds sliding in their white wings and thin legs. Oh, alive. And then my mom shout,” Come! Look! There’s a baby shark! Shark!” so loud that instantly trigger my instinct to flee. As she recalls, I was ‘swimming like a mad marlin fish.’ I drag the stair on the boat, over breathing. How weird that I can actually know how to swim under a presumed danger. But then I sat down, I found myself not shivering. Rather, a strong voice pushed me to the back deck and I see. I saw that whitely grey fin, about 10 to 15 inches. But I scared, though not enough to retreat, and stared at it. It could be a tunnel vision. I feel it stared at me, so I stared back. A species with armour, alive. Now I shivered, somewhat like Lex Luthor meets Superman, weird but for a different reason: admiration of this some sort of communication, interaction between individuals. It was my first time to realise that I live in a enormous ecosystem, the nature, not particular block or cell.
And so, I drift. From apartment to apartment, from Guangzhou to Singapore and back again. And on the way, I meet Thai, Philippine, French, Hollander, Swissers, and Americans. And from place to place, I took photos of feet on the ground, on the mud, the sand, the ceramic, the snowy high plain, the old worn rock streets; but I don’t really find I have rooted in somewhere. I would say I have preference, mostly because of the familiarity and suitable weather, but wherever I am, I feel I still live in a large environment, the nature. I saw people pray in the lonely temple on the sea rock at dawn, their hearts beat, their muscles works according to the signals from the brain and the want that come from don’t know where, but simply called “consciousness.” They eat different food along their traditions, which make them most suitable for their origin places to thrive, through the typical chemicals for immune function, suitable calories, specific amount of enzymes. They walk along the boulevard, making use of shades of different trees, raising different crops, petting different stocks, and hunting down different preys. They are so distinct but connected, with each other and with the nature.
And I keep drifting. I am taking nutrient from wherever I go, and brings whatever I have to there. But I am still drifting, hoping to grow into a new shelter of others some day.
