Things from Africa

"I won't say a word, because I know they won't understand. They won't understand that it's about the man beside you."

Having just come back from a "once in a lifetime trip" to Mount Kilimanjaro in Africa, the above quote keeps floating in my mind. The trip really was something priceless and indescribable. We worked hard for the trip, putting in hours of training, working with various people in areas of sponsorship, authorities from the Singapore Boys Home and those from the school. The very fact that we were there for the trip after so many setbacks added a surreal air to the whirlwind adventure.

The really sad thing about going for these adventures is how personal they are. Sure, you go with loads of friends you love. Sure, you come back and tell everyone how the trip was beyond your wildest dreams. But ultimately, no one will understand truly how you felt. Nothing in words will truly emulate the elation, the euphoria, the tears, sweat and blood. No one else around you will remember how exactly the rock felt under your boot that day, nor can you sufficiently explain it with enough detail to allow anyone else to imagine that sensation.

It's just as Hoot says in one of the closing scenes of Black Hawk Down. No one else would understand unless they experienced it themselves. The thing is, even if and when they do experience it, their experience will be their own, and will differ from yours. What we had on the mountain, it's ours to keep and treasure, something no one else can put their name on.

Unfortunately, the other sad part is when you start losing out the clarity of these experiences. The big events you'd always remember, because they're etched in your memory. But the little things like how gently the wind caressed your face, how much your foot tilted in the scree - the little things that just added on to the richness of the experience - these things are rarely remembered in great detail. And before you know it, all the wonder of the adventure is lost as the memory loses its flavour.

I was talking to my friend about how I dread losing my sense of wonder I had on the mountain because I'm beginning to forget how the little things felt while I was there. The friend replied in her usual optimistic self that all I had to do was close my eyes and allow my memories to take me back there. I might not remember all the little details, but some might still pop up. And as long as that keeps my wonder alive, it is good enough.

Something else I got from the mountain is the forging of new friendships. While this isn't an exclusive treasure chest, at least this is something I can further work upon. Unlike the memories which might fade away with time, I can strengthen friendships. Our shared experience on the mountain, while different to each individual, gives us a common identity - so priceless in forging us together.

Thanks for everything, Africa! -Jimmy