Yaay Musical Discovery!

OneRepublic is actually a really, really good band. Their first album didn't really catch my interest so much. But I've been listening to the singles of the second album and I'm just like, "where the fuck have I been??"

Hating (with) Fervor

You know, sometimes I hate my ability to contradict myself over and over. There was that one point where I was involuntarily recruited for the school's english debating team, not because I was a particularly talented and compelling public speaker, but because I am able to construct english sentences like I've been doing it on a daily basis for years. Which I was. But that's beside the point. I don't think you're supposed to put very many "like, totally"s in debating. Which I did. I was a teenager, I couldn't help it. It was like a tic. Which was why I never really led my school to any victories. I just provided some participation points.

But despite my half-assed efforts, my brain somehow molded itself and I've subconsciously developed the ability to create a defense for any argument. I'm quite an opinionated person. But I rarely find myself being truly adamant about anything because then I would see it from another angle and then I would contradict myself. It's kinda frustrating. It would be nice to choose a side about something. But it's so difficult for me to to make up my mind about it because my head would be arguing both sides. And boy, when one of those internal arguments start... Oh, crap, that doesn't make me schizophrenic right?

Anyway, the point is. There's this thing going on, right? Lately I haven't been listening to music. I thought, wow, has medschool gotten me so busy that I don't even listen to music anymore? Or maybe it's because I don't get MTV or my new car can't connect to my ipod? Not exactly. You see, there's a phenomenon giong on right now, which has been going on for a few years now, which I thought would have fizzled out by now, but is only gaining even more avid followers. It's music from a certain Asian country whose view on body image is scarily reminiscent of a Scott Westerfield dystopian novel. It is everywhere to the point that I can't even find music that I like anymore.

It's an epidemic. And there was one point where I was just, like, totally up to here about it and it was just beyond toleration. Because you know what, I didn't like it one bit. And I couldn't understand why it was so fucking contagious because I was exposed to it 24-fucking-7 and I seemed to be the only immune. And here the frustration begins because I had tried to come up with an argument about how this whole music industry was objectively crap and everyone who likes it are mindless idiots, and the fact that the majority of our community is into it means that it's the end of all humanity. But the boyfriend, the only person to whom I could convey this without getting a knife to the throat, is just as great a debater. And yes, he appealed to that always-contradicting-myself part of me and I broke my own argument.

The thing is, why did I actually hate it THAT much? It wasn't a simple dislike, like I'm not really into The Black Eyed Peas but I don't hate them at all. Basically, it was these two things, 1) lots of people like it and it's everywhere to the point that it stifled any other choice of music and I ended up ceasing to listen to music at all, and 2) people who are into it not only just 'like' it, they LOVE it, and are literally incapable of talking about anything else. The first issue is only a mild annoyance. I can still find music that I like though with a some extra effort. The second issue is the big one. People hate when other people fervently love things don't like.

So let's look at another phenomenon. One where I am actually on the pro side. You may have heard of a certain vampire love story called Twilight. A lot of haters for this one right? And I mean HATErs. About as much as I hate K-pop except it's all over the internet. I like Twilight. Sure, the movies ruined the whole thing but whatever, I still watch it cause I like the books. And I totally get the reasons why people wouldn't like it. It's weird, immoral, a horrible example for young girls. But so are a lot of other less famous books. That's a reason to dislike or dismiss, not a reason to hate and bash.

The hate is a response to the widespread global obsession. Look at Justin Bieber. There's a lot of other crappy young artists out there. But JB's the one packing all the hate because he has the most outspoken groupies. People hate that kind of fervor. People hate when other people love what they think is completely wrong. It's the basis of all kinds discrimination, race, religion, political view.

Maybe we just need to accept that some people just like what they like, and some people don't. I don't believe advocating plastic surgery is very good for young people's body image issues. I don't believe men who dance and touch their own faces while they sing are very attractive. And I don't believe in music witout understanding the lyrics. But that's just my religion. To each their own.

Happy (?) New Year

Here we go again. Another new year's eve. Geez that was fast. Didn't we just have one of these last year? (*chuckle* you may laugh now)

Seriously though. It's always the same everytime. I approach the beginning of the new year with everyone making huge deals about it, and I expect some huge thing to happen, to change, to feel different in some way. It's a bit of a damned-if-you-do-damned-if-you-don't sort of thing. Like if I make myself get all excited about the new year, I'll find myself disappointed because like, nothing is going to change. But if I pretend to be indifferent and try to shrug it off like it's nothing, I'd be lying because I actually do expect something to happen. What is it I expect, exactly? Hmm, I'm not sure. But something.

And resolutions? Forget about it. I'll forget about whatever it was I wanted to do before January is over. And besides, I've always found that using this date as an excuse to have an "identity makeover" is quite lame. I mean, why now? Why today? You've always felt that you needed to do whatever it was you're "resolving" to do now. Why wait until January 1st to begin?

January. Janus. The two-headed god of, like, doorways or something. One head looks forward and the other looks backward. So, like, if we're being all ritual-y about it, we could say that at the stroke of midnight, fireworks ablaze, we stand in the doorway between the end of 2011 and the beginning of 2012, we have one head looking back to the past and have a moment of reflection. Like, what have we achieved so far, how can we improve ourselves and become better members of society? And at the same time, we have another head looking ever so hopefully towards the future, full of determination to improve and to grow.

*stifles laughter*

Well aren't I just full of shit. This blog has seen five new years and I still don't know the meaning of a new years celebration. I think one of my friends got it close enough. She tweeted, "just another excuse to party". And yeah, I suppose to me it is. Screw self-reflection and self-improvement and crap. I'm constantly reflecting about all the mistakes I've made and forever peering into the future trying to avoid the potholes of further mistakes. I'm always criticising myself to the point that I feel like I'm covered in jagged holes from where I've been picking at my flaws.

On December 31st people are celebrating. Celebrating what? God only knows. Celebrating something. And I get to dress up and gorge myself on smoked salmon and indulge in an exotic cheese platter. So yes, this is a special occasion, but it's just an excuse. So sorry, I'm not about to spend tonight getting my insecurity on. I'm just going to join in on the festivities.

Bunaken Dive Trip

Shh, I'm going to tell you a little secret. Some people choose which group they wanted to be in for the final year of medical school based on the kinds of people in it, or what kind of pace they want to set for themselves throughout the year. I chose my group based on whether I could play hooky during the 13th-17th of October. And unfortunately, that was surgery. Why did I have to play hooky you may ask? Oh, only a certain dive-trip to Bunaken. I can tell you now, the trip was a success. My absence went by unnoticed thanks in large part to my very understanding, small group of colleagues.

So how was the trip? In a word, indescribable. But of course, I'm going to try anyway. It was a 4 day trip, but I left Jakarta on Thursday night so the next day can begin bright and early. There were 3 productive dive days, with 3 dives each day, so in total I logged 9 dives. It was sensational.

Most of the dives were of the wall kind. We went down about 15-20 metres. The wall stretched way down below, disappearing into the dark blue abyss. We couldn't even see the ocean floor. We were just hovering and there was nothing below our feet. It was completely breathtaking. Some people might find the neverending depth of the wall disconcerting, but I love it. Sometimes I would just back up a little and take in the whole wall and look down at the nonexistent floor and it feels like I'm flying next to this skyscraper made of coral. It was glorious.

There was a nice current that just pulled us along like a conveyor belt. But sometimes the current would shift and we'd end up going against the current. That's when it got heavy to kick and my group would usually just stop and follow the current. It was nice just drifting along. It was relaxing, not exhausting at all. But my buoyancy kinda sucked. I kept skip-breathing to keep myself aloft and as a result, I was starting to get a massive headache from carbon dioxide toxicity. Still, I ignored it as best I could and focus on the sights.

The water was monstrously clear. There was this one time where there was a whole school of shiny fish migrating from the reef then past us along the wall. There were like hundreds all lined up neatly and hurrying along in a really long line. It was an awesome sight. There were a lot of lobsters clustered in little inlets, moray eels slithering in and out of their little tunnels, clown fish getting all funny and territorial, coming at us all agressive when we get close. And turtles! There were so many of them just melowing out on the coral or sleeping in a cave.

On the first day of diving, there was this GIANT turtle that almost ran me over. I was just minding my own business peering into the coral at the little fishies swimming around then suddenly I glance to my right and there was this HUGE-ass turtle just gliding along straight at me! It was like a UFO. I froze. And I might have cursed into my regulator. The turtle just swept past me like literally inches from my head, not even caring that there were these alien things in its way. It was the most exhilirating thing ever.

We also spotted some dolphins from the boat. We kept making huge amounts of noise when we get close to them. And I guess the dolphins get excited about it and they start swimming alongside our boat, jumping out of the water beside us, just like they do in the movies. My little cousins got a huge kick out of that.

Our crew was a pretty huge group. About 20 people in total, divided into dive-groups of 4 each. I'm always the one over-excited about every dive and I'm somehow always the first to enter the water when they tell us to gear up. As usual, I'm very economical when it comes to oxygen usage and I never seem to run out. I could probably stay under for 2 hours if anyone could keep up with me. Alas, there is a need for a buddy system, and my buddy can only go as far as slightly over an hour. (usually, people dive an average of 30 minutes). I mean, it wasn't like I was doing it on purpose. I actually felt like I was taking immense amounts of breath and being extremely wasteful.

Still, even if I could stay under for 2 hours, I probably wouldn't. I have very low tolerance for temperature changes. Maybe it's the lack of fatty insulation. Indonesia in general is a tropical country. The waters, relatively, aren't that cold. But after an hour in it, I would be convulsing with hypothermia. Also, I am incapable of peeing in the ocean. I just physically can't. And once I climb on the boat after each dive, I'd be heading straight towards the toilet. Thank God our boat had one.

It was such a wonderful thing, that short holiday. My hair was stringy and dry and was breaking off easily. My nose was burnt and I had tan lines. But there was the ocean and I was in it, playing with the fishies. I was lounging on the boat deck, shivering after a dive but soaking up the warm sun while the ocean roared under me. I was miles and miles away from morning rounds and night shifts and case presentations and all that crap. It was paradise.

Surgery

When I was in 8th grade in Kenmore State High School we dissected a cow's heart. It was the most fun I have ever had in science in class and I considered cardiothoracic surgery as a possible career choice. During the 2nd year of medical school, I studied about cardiology and I'm like, "crap! This is some difficult shit right here!" and acquired a lowly B. Later that year I entered the musculoskeletal module, found myself easily memorizing the anatomy and actually had fun during anatomy class and ended up with a surprising A. Then I thought about orthopedic surgery and all the carpentry-like tools involved and I remembered that in 8th grade, my favorite class was woodwork.

Basically from the moment I set foot in medical school, if I had to specialize, I wanted to be surgeon. Most people who knew me agreed that this was most appropriate. I'm not the most talkative person so I prefer taking a straight-to-the-point history. I have an eye for anatomy and have little patience with guesswork physical examinations (just x-ray or cut 'em up and see what's going on already!). I'm more of a do-er than a thinker. And I like sewing and crafting.

The question is, what kind of surgeon should I be? So when the surgery module arrived, I looked at it like an orientation. So here are the the divisions offered:
1. Digestive surgery: Nope. I hate poop. I don't want to be dealing with the poo chute and staring at assholes all my life.
2. Orthopedic surgery: Strong maybe. But the field is much more vast than I anticipated. I'm mostly interested in traumatology. But there's also oncology, pediatrics, spine, hand, knee, none of which I'm particularly interested in. Maybe spine.
3. Pediatric surgery: Nope. I don't do kids. Even unconscious ones.
4. Urology: Yes. Maybe. It's a very interesting field, the surgical procedures are done laparoscopically so it's basically like videogames and the environment is super-relaxed and friendly. The only downside is the routine rectal examinations.
5. Plastic surgery: hmmm, maybe. There's a lot of finicky, OCD stuff going on though. Maybe if ortho and urology doesn't work out.
6. Cardiothoracic and vascular surgery: only spent 3 days here. Not so sure about it. I didn't get to see a lot of heart surgery, just a bunch of lung ones. And boy, there are a LOT of blood vessels in the human body. Way more than bones.
7. Oncology: nope. Depressing.
8. Neurosurgery: didn't get to see this one. Sad face. The feminist in me is tempted by the prestige and challenged by the male dominance of this field though.

When we were in Tangerang, our resident supervisor is dr. V. He is very nice, and is a giant, like Hagrid. He is very much the embodiment of orthopedic surgery: big, strong and male. Meanwhile, I am small, weak and female. One time, he allowed me to assist him in a traumatic amputation of a couple of fingers. I was offered to clip off some finger cartilage. Cartilage, as in the soft stuff between your bones. I didn't have the strength to do it. The nurse laughed at me.

Then I was offered to close up. I took the clamp and needleholder and began sewing up the finger stubs with barely any thread left because dr. V had used most of it all up. Regardless, he was impressed by my suturing skills and claimed that my hand movements were better than most residents. Though finding it hard to believe, I was very much ecstatic. I was actually good at something I was interested in! But to add to my embarrassment (but GREAT pleasure), dr. V went on to spread word of my skills to basically everyone in class. And since then, no one ever let me suture in the emergency room saying that I don't need the practice. Bummer.

dr. V asked which field of surgery in which I wanted to specialize. He disagreed with my choice of orthopedic surgery. I've actually been starting to question that choice myself. Most of the time, I needed help opening a bottle of water, let alone shoving a femur back in its socket. dr. V suggested plastic surgery. And yeah, there's a lot crafting involved in it. Seems like my thing. But urology is so seductive. It's not just me. Basically everyone who has gone through urology was seduced by it.

Maan, I can't decide right now! Stop pressuring me!

Aaaaand Four Months Later...

Before I begin, let me just apologize for my abandonement these past months. Final year in medical school you know. Sometimes I forget that. My caste is so low on the hospital hierarchy that it's easy to forget that i'm actually in the most senior class. So basically, senior year means increasingly difficult levels of assignments and more comprehensive topics to master. In the end, I only have two modes of existence: busy as crap or exhausted like hell.

But guess what? It's a Wednesday and i'm actually on holiday for like 3 whole days!! How did this Christmas miracle happen you ask? How could such an impossibly absurd thing like three whole days off, including new years eve happen in this barbaric excuse of an educational institution called medical school?? Well, I'm actually one of the very, very few fortunate ones. This entire week was devoted to exams. I was fortunate enough to have mine on a Tuesday, so having gone through that already, I could have the rest of the week off. Not so fortunate for people who have their exams on Friday.

So anywaaaaays. Pediatric medicine.

Um, I don't particularly like kids too much. Babies and small children are cute and everything, but only if they're not making too much noise and is observed from a safe distance. And now I had to deal with kids of various ages for 9 weeks? And not just any kids. Sick kids. Which alternates from incredibly annoying to incredibly depressing. The annoying ones are the 3-4 year olds with only mild diarrhea or something and they still had the energy to scream bloody murder and thrash around violently whenever I attmpt to perform a physical examination. And then there's the depressing part when it's a quiet, shy little 8-year-old with relapsed leukemia, or a 2-day-old baby with gastroschisis, or a clever, friendly, cheerful 11-year-old with HIV.

Seriously, pediatrics is so not my thing. There's so much crap involved: growth and development, nutrition, immunization, insanely comprehensive family history, gestational and birth history, so it's not just the problem from the chief complaints. And not to mention the normal limits of things like blood pressure, heart rate, respiratory rate, hemoglobin and such vary depending on the child's age. It's just too much of the mindless memorizing and I'm much more of a pathophysiology person. And unless you're incredibly excellent at math and can calculate semi-complex multiplications and divisions in your head (which no medical student can do), you need to bring a calculator everywhere because every dose, drugs or intravenous therapy, had to be based on weight. So yeah, basically, not in a million years would I ever want to be a pediatrician.

Having said that though, I still found the 9 weeks spent in this module a very valuable experience. As I said before, I don't really like kids very much, and I don't really know how to interact with them. But during these 9 weeks, I hope that I've become better at it. And it taught me empathy towards the family, which I guess was quite overlooked in all our empathy workshops. Those lessons usually put emphasis on empathy towards the patient, and I always took care to do that because, hey, the patients are the ones that are sick. And I usually lose patience with the family because they're all very demanding and pesterful. But when the kids are sick, it's hard to lose patience with the parents who are all worried to death about their child. I hope I can remember that and bring that to my future encounters with patient families, no matter what age the patient is.

Phonetism

Okay, I swear I've written countless times about my view on words. And I mean literally "view". You know, how I wrote that you don't just read words and your brain translates it into meaning, but you also "see" a word, like the spelling and combination of letters that create a visual shape of the word, which your brain then translates into images and feelings. Am I making any sort of sense? I swear I've written about this before (although as of right now, I can't for the life of me find any evidence in my prior entries).

And yeah, I really suck at explaining, and the people I have tried to explain it to (ehem, yes, YOU) just looked at me like I was crazy. But ha-HAH, now I have proof that I'm not just a book-worm freak with weird hallucinations. Here I have an article from NewScientist that postulates that there's more to words than just knowing the meaning. It has auditory as well as visual aspects that contribute to what kind of image or emotion that pops up into our heads when we hear or see it.

And it doesn't just apply to english. There's a quiz at the end of this article which asks us to guess what all these foreign words mean. There's quite a few Indonesian words so for those who are fluent, you're kind of cheating. But it just proves my point even more. I think Indonesian words have even more evocative qualities than english ones.

Click here to read the article.

The Outside

Greetings, my name is Akira. This is a live feed from The Bubble. Actually, that was just me being overdramatic with the capital letters. Nothing special with this particular bubble. Except for the fact that I don't hate mine as much as others hate theirs.

It's an incredible thing, this bubble. It's The Ultimate Protection (I love how a simple thing such as beginning a word with its uppercase form makes it seem important and dramatic. Hmm. Anyway). It's thin enough that it allows me to go about my day as normally as I desire. And yet, keeps me distant enough to avoid any ... unwanted circumstances.

I really don't understand what the fuss is about. Here and there I find people searching desperately for the holes in their bubbles. And when they do, they leave it entirely! I mean, I don't see the difference. The entire world is perfectly observable from INSIDE the bubble. Why do they feel the need to actually observe it from the outside?

Hmm, I suppose you're one of THOSE people too. I suppose soon you will shut off this feed and scoff at how ignorant I sound, dismissing an experience with which I seem completely unfamiliar. Well guess what, I HAVE been outside. And it SUCKS.

"Oh, but what of all the people who have returned from their outside forages with great boasting smiles and jealous-making stories?" I can tell you with extreme certainty that they haven't fully experienced the TRUE outside. They all left with full intentions of returning. And it was this intention that shielded them still from the true outside. It was as if an invisible bubble was formed simply by their intentions to return. So that they never truly left the bubble.

Are you riveted now? Has your hand frozen moments from turning the off-dial, stayed by your curiosity? Don't worry, I'll tell you my secret. Because we all know everyone loves secrets. Though I'm sure some of you already know, but are reluctant to admit it.

Many years ago, when I was still too young to develop that natural curiosity about what lies outside the bubble, there was a malfunction. The bubble expelled me from its bowels, and abandoned me naked and powerless outside. I was completely lacking in any form of protection and it was cold. Has anyone ever told you that? That it's very cold outside?

I don't know how long I was outside. For a few months I tried to enter my bubble again, but it wouldn't admit me. I grew hungry and soon I abandoned my attempts and just tried to survive. I couldn't hoist my former home around on my back, it was dead weight. The outside was my new home.

For those of you who still don't believe my depiction of the outside, try it for yourself. Leave your bubble completely. Don't make any promises of returning. You'll find that once the outside has realized you have come to make a permanent residence, it will turn against you. See, it was perfectly fine when you were all playing tourist, in fact, the outside welcomes you. But attempt to be a citizen and it will turn hostile.

Somehow I found my way back into the bubble. And once there I vowed never to go back out without carving my promise of returning so it knows outside that I have absolutely no intention to stay.

My feed time is almost over. I hope you all understand what I'm saying here. I admit, some of you are perfectly equipped to live outside. But I know most of you aren't. You look too much like me. All I'm saying is, think twice. We were born in this bubble for a reason.

My Signature Dish (If I Had One)

I love breakfast food. It's my favorite meal of the day. Which is why I usually have it only twice a week, on weekends. Does that make sense? It's just that on school days, I barely have 5 minutes to have breakfast and that's nowhere near enough time to prepare a hearty breakfast. It's all or nothing. I'd rather have a glass of water for breakfast than something half-assed.

And my ultimate favorite breakfast food are EGGS. Eggs are an absolute miracle ingredient. It has two magical components, the whites and the yolk, which can transform into like a million different things, either together or separately. My dream is to have a chicken farm so I can have an infinite supply of lovely, organic, tasty eggs. MUAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Ehem. Anyway, today I'd like to share my greatest breakfast creation yet, my FRIED TOMATO SANDWICH. It takes like a half hour to make, which is the longest time I've ever taken to cook. And even though the main part of this dish is the bursting-with-flavor tomatoes, a sandwich without eggs is just stupid. I'm telling you, it's delicious.

Ingredients:
- 2 slices of bread
- 1 egg
- 1/2 tomato, sliced
- 1 cheese slice
- butter (I use Meadow Lea because Blue Band smells weird)
- seasonings: salt, black pepper, basil
- optional: 1 slice of turkey breast or smoked beef. We hardly ever have these in our fridge, and when we do, they're frozen rock-solid, so I usually leave these out. It makes no difference anyway because the fried tomatoes will provide enough flavor.

Steps:
1. Spread some butter on one side and stick the slices of bread in the toaster. Or, if your toaster is being a bitch like mine, use the frying pan.
2. Fry the egg sunny side up (or however you want, I like my yolk medium rare and gooey) with a nob of butter. Season with salt and black pepper. Or whatever you like.
3. Again with the butter and fry the tomatoes until it looks tasty. I fry everything with butter because it's tastier that way. Also, I don't know how to cook with oil. Season with salt, black pepper, and basil. I use dried basil because that's the only kind available in my kitchen.
4. If you're minimizing on the washing like I am and using one frying pan to cook everything, this would be the right order to do it: bread - egg - tomato. Just so they don't mess with each other.



So that's it. After that is just a matter of assembling all the components, then cutting it up into four tasty pieces.

Diving Certification

Here it is! The big day! I've been looking forward to this practically all my life. The day when I'll be able to breathe underwater and swim with the fishies! This ain't no bandwagon-jumping activity. Although I have to admit, seeing people dive around me has put slightly more pressure on me to do this sooner rather than later. But still, this has been a dream of mine since I was about 13. And I've always had this fear about pursuing what I really want to do. Either because I'm afraid it'll be like a huge inconvenience for everyone else, or worried that it won't turn out to be as legendary as I always imagined.

But I digress. This whole experience is even better than the visions in my head. It was indescribable. And I only went to Pulau Pramuka which is apparently, like totally unimpressive dive-wise. Well, I guess my expectations in terms of undersea scenery at a location so close to the poisonously polluted Jakarta were pretty low to begin with. I figured it would just be a bunch of monochromatic corals with sparse and equally boring-colored fish here and there. But no, it was very diverse and lively. I was pleasantly surprised.

The accomodations also exceeded my low, and therefore quite easy to exceed, expectations. The lodge we stayed at was about like 50 metres from the ocean. The mattress was springy and comfortable and the bathroom was clean and of the non-communal kind. And we had TV and air-conditioning. What more could you want from a dive-resort? Well, maybe more places to hang your equipment. But we made do with the balcony railings.

We did two dives on the first day. We dove in pairs (buddy-system) accompanied with one senior leader. I was paired up with my cousin, K, and our leader was Mr. H. Our first dive was off the docks. It was more of an adaptation process for the students. There wasn't much to see but there was a shipwreck at one point so that was interesting. We circled about half the island and took the boat back.

Our second dive, we took the boat out to Pulau Air and dove from there. Now here's what I find trickiest about diving. NAVIGATION. I mean, even my sense of direction on land where everything is perfectly visible is quite poor. Underwater is a whole different ball game. For one thing, everything is like, upside down. Do you know what I mean? Like, the sky is the bottomless pit of water below you. And the coral reef "buildings" stretch out towards the surface like they're hanging. Mostly, during these dives, my navigational strategy basically involves a game of "follow the leader's helpfully fluorescent fins".

To make matters worse, as we were doing the descending procedure, we were swept by a current and once we arrived at the desired depth ... nothing. It was blank. I mean, can you imagine? It wasn't like we were out in the open water (well, we WERE out in the open water) but open water isn't like standing in the middle of an empty football field and you can see all around you. It was like standing in the middle of an empty football field and there was really heavy fog. It didn't feel like an open space. I mean, I knew I was out in the open, but it felt extremely claustrophobic.

Anyways, Mr. H tried to get us back on track using his compass for a while. But after like 5 minutes, we just decided to surface. We saw how far we had strayed and kicked back to where we were supposed to be while still on the surface. We were joined by Mr. D, who was the sweeper for our party and the four of us dove together.

It was much, much lovelier than the docks. We dove on a slope it was like corals above and corals below and little fishies everywhere! It was awesome. However, it being pretty close to twilight and there was a slight breeze above, the visibility was (apparently) quite poor. Again, since I have no prior diving experience at anywhere better, I found it perfectly fine. Still very beautiful, even. There were fish of all shapes, sizes and colors, sea urchins tucked between colorful corals, and Mr. D even pointed out a pufferfish. It was really, really special.

We were the last one finished. I was flushed with the wonders of it all. Well, maybe not really flushed. I was probably pale and chattering with the cold since my skin-and-bones frame doesn't really tolerate even the slightest temperature change well (like, it was only 29 degrees Celcius underwater). But yeah, on the INSIDE I was flushed with joy at the whole experience.

The next day we took the boat out again to a different part of Pulau Air. It was fairly early in the morning so the visibility was much better. I saw a lot more stuff this time, nemo-fish, whole forests of sea-urchins, and even a fat, disgusting blue starfish. Starfish usually freak me out. It's all weird and bumpy and star-shaped. And not to mention the billions of little sucker legs under it surrounding its disgusting little mouth. Ugh, yuck. But still, curiosity got the better of me, and I paused for a moment to inspect it a little closer. K and Mr. H kept leaving me behind because I kept wanting to pause and inspect everything.

Our little trio dove for a LONG time. K and I are tiny little females with tiny little lungs and very low tidal volume. After each dive, we're always left with more than half a tank left while everyone else practically burns through them. This time we were the longest underwater, about 45 minutes. It was the best dive of the trip, while the next one was the worst.

Even from before we went on the boat, I had this funny feeling. That third dive was incredible and I had a bad feeling about this next one. That feeling kept nagging me all through the boat ride, then after I geared up and plunged in the water, I was instantly stung by like a million tiny jellyfish. I peered underwater with my goggles and I couldn't see anything. But I could feel them sure enough, like little pinches on my exposed hands and ankles. It itched like crazy.

Then the three of us had trouble finding a place to descend. The current was also quite strong. We managed to find a spot and land on the sand next to one of the other trios. We were supposed to kneel down and get our bearings for a while but everyone was kicking up a storm and the water turned murky. In the end, Mr. H just led us out of there and start swimming.

I'm not really sure what happened next. Maybe it was the current or maybe we just simply took the wrong turn or something. But suddenly I found the surface like mere inches above my head while the coral was mere inches below my stomach. The water was extremely shallow. I tried my best to dodge all the hard corals and like, FORESTS of sea-urchin. And then it got WAY shallow and we all just stood up. Well, not exactly stood up, we were wearing long, clumsy fins and had a 20 kg oxygen tank on our backs. The ocean floor was hard coral and it was ankle deep. And also, did I mention there were waves? Even though I had extra weight on my back, I was still light enough to get tossed around.

Needless to say I got pretty badly scratched up. The waves had pushed me further onto the reef than the others and I had to kick myself against the corals with my fins to push against the waves so I can get back to deeper waters. In retrospect, it was quite a necessary, humbling experience. I pretty much kicked ass at every other aspect of diving and I was kind of taking it for granted. If I was going to be a serious diver, I had to learn how to navigate myself and not just rely on someone to lead the way. I need to invest in a compass or something.

The difference between diving and any other skill I have learned in my life, is that I actually WANT to do this. I WANT to be good at this. Boy, it's a weird feeling isn't it? Ambitious is not something I'm familiar with.

Me and my buddy