Underwater

I am so happy that I have resumed diving - after a four-year break. Tioman is beautiful, and the five dives over the weekend were great. More importantly, they were incident-free; except the first dive where I made an uncontrolled ascent. Fortunately, I did not panic, I continued breathing and I was more amused than anxious. It was actually funny to look down at my dive buddies trying to find me, while I was gently drifting up away from them, trying to get their attention, with no way of contacting them.

We were even fortunate enough to spot turtles on the last dive.

I made some interesting acquaintances, and listened to some interesting stories. The weather was perfect, except on the way home. We rode a private speedboat across the open sea, in pouring rain, with apocalyptic lightning and thunderbolts all round. We waited on a park bench for two hours for a chartered bus that never came.

Diving has a sedative effect. An intoxicating effect, even. It gives you the space that you crave for every moment of your cramped life, and fills that space with perfect aquamarine and beautiful sealife. It leaves you suspended in every dimension. It makes you feel like you are performing only the basic functions - breathing, being present, existing. I did not take easily to water in the beginning. Now, I thrive underwater. The Great Barrier Reef, here I come.

Underwater. Is how my fiance's family found their house over the weekend. A particularly strong typhoon, record rainfall in decades and eight feet under. Cherished property, irreversibly damaged. Precious keepsakes, irretrievably lost. Fortunately, that was the total extent of the damage. The house will live again. The home will return.

Nature's fury continues. The Philippines. Viet Nam. American Samoa. Underwater.