a splash of rainlight-
traversing pulau ubin 20 jan 07

it was my third trip to ubin since i returned. and always, gladly taken with no regrets in sight, despite the long distance travelled from west to east. it was an unusual reunion of sorts, with 3 former students from 03 and one from 04 batch tagging along. they clicked in unison, having shared common woes with their subjects as well as jolly entanglements with the same tutors. yours' truly. they hit on many topics from the start, complemented by an unusual blend of energies and personalities fit for any summer camp: annie and her electric ability to receive, deflect and retort hidden barbs and teases from the rest and her simultaneous tendency to demand the most exclusive and harmless dose of attention from all of us. there's gungho piow who is perfectly at home with herself, never giving up her individuality no matter how unglam the stalks and seeds might have done to her enigmatic purple-streaked hair. maybel and her messanic overtures who will always reserve a quiet blessing for everything that turned dull, dirty and sour. we regaled with fond old stories of college days: annie still berates me for the nasty comments and grades which i splashed on her essays while ziz chomps on mee siam serenely, possibly critiquing and deconstructing our inane mindsets and self-depreciating humour from the side.

we did everything that made Survivor a series to be scoffed at: ploughed through blotches of mud, annie writhing in pain as her Birkenstocks got drenched in double-blows of saltwater and clay as we cycled past flooded pits, shoreline and always in rain. we also peeked into abandoned shrines and haunted houses, remotely thrilled by the many alternative histories the island offered to passing spirits. we even chewed on lallang stalks after running out of creative energy for photoshoots. spotted 2 rare hornbills in flight. 2 unlucky grasshoppers were ambushed and tossed to the enemy, as we witnessed, nat-geog style, the sharp jaws and elegant legs of a golden-web spider stalking, piercing and chaining the hapless prey in coils of web. everyone. raptured by sheer silence of raw wonder.

these people made me laugh in the rain. we made each other a keepsake much more memorable than the schoolday memories we used to define our moments by. and they were the same folks whose essays i marked, stomped and slashed...only to see them grow into self-confident, bold and delightfully open individuals who take pleasure in exploring rustic roads, pockets of green mangroves and other ghostsongs of the jungle...the same people who forge easy conversations with ubin islanders conversant in dialect. they wanted to move inward, daring to see deep into things- the dying lores and practice of kampung living and etiquette.

i stand aside, smile and instinctively know that i am proud of them; joyful in their company...moved by their effort to touch base over the years, helping me to rewrite my life, and inspiring me to map these moments on the open field as a further blessing, a special song to sing on rainy days, remembering with fondness, the relational gifts...the hours my vocation is giving me.