I still remember the person in charge asking us during the first briefing if any of us had been to cold countries before. I had naively asked if Genting Highlands was considered cold. Looking back, I feel so foolish. The cold in Genting was mild compared to that in Korea, where the temperature could drop to –20 degrees Celsius! Our ultimate challenge was to battle the cold, and that wasn’t an easy task for a tropical girl like me. I remember vividly the excitement I felt when I saw “smoke” coming from my mouth when I tried to speak, the amazement when I saw, for the first time, snow flakes drop from nowhere onto my face and hands, and of course the terrible sensation of your innards, muscles, basically everything within you shivering because it was too cold.
Sure enough, we got acclimatized to the weather in a couple of days, and the cold we experienced at the base camp became more and more bearable. The real challenge came during the expedition. The first day of the expedition was a killer. We hiked 9+ km and gained over 1.5km in elevation. Towards the middle of our journey, every step was a chore. Fatigue was clearly splashed over everybody’s faces. The hike up seemed painfully endless. Wooden steps, steep slopes, metal staircases and rocks came one after another. I hated the signs posted on the signboards, for one moment, we saw that we were 1.3km to the peak, after climbing up endless rocks and walking along endless trails for 45 minutes with our 10+ kg backpacks, we only covered 200m! It was really demoralizing for me, to put in so much effort and yet not get anywhere. Everyone tried to keep the spirits up. Those who could take it started to sing to lighten up the atmosphere, those who were too tired kept quiet and avoided complaining or saying things that would dampen everyone’s moods.
Taufik’s “I Dream” rang in most of our heads, especially mine. “ I dream.. I could fly.. Like the wind, and be strong.. When my heart, just wants to give in. I dream.. I could be.. the hero in me.. I dream.. I dream..” These words expressed my every emotion and were especially meaningful at that point in time. I wish I could fly over the ranges and rocks, over the hardship and pain, right to the mountain top. Sometimes, the idea of giving up flashed in my head, but I thought about why I wanted to join the course in the first place: to challenge myself, get out of my comfort zone, to learn to be independent and do something which would push my limits. I thought about how proud my parents would be of me, about how proud I would be of myself, and about the regrets I would feel if I fell out then, and I pushed on. Towards the end of that day’s hike, at the toughest part of the climb, tears came whenever I thought about my loved ones back at home. I don’t know why that thought evoked tears, but it just did. Deep down, I know that I would have never made it without my friends. They were the ones who motivated me and inspired me to go on. They pulled me up the rocks mentally and kept me sane when I was going bonkers. Friends are really the best assets one can have out of home.
We reached the shelter after being deceived by the signboards for umpteen times, but the greatest feeling of accomplishment and satisfaction for me did not come till the next day. Most of us woke up early the next day and began our hike up to Noinbong Peak to catch the sunrise. The hike up was tiring and trying. Once again, I wondered why I had foolishly wanted to subject myself to this unnecessary torture when I had the option of hiding in my sleeping bag to get more sleep.
The magnificent view from the peak took all these bad feelings away instantly. Sitting together with other peers and Koreans at the peak, listening to the Koreans cheer excitedly whenever the sky grew a wee bit brighter, I suddenly realized that I was going to catch the first sunrise of 2005! Feelings I don’t know how to describe stirred within me and overwhelmed me totally. I was on a high. I marveled at the wonders of nature, how something that has occurred everyday for millennia could be so beautiful when viewed from another perspective. The clouds were on the same level as I was. Right in front of me, a spectacular scene was unfolding. I watched as the golden lining of the clouds hiding the sun became brighter, bit by bit. The gradient of blue, orange and red in the sky blended together beautifully, just like how on the morning of the first day of 2005, Singaporeans, Koreans and perhaps people from some other nationalities had congregated to soak in the first light of year and share the wonderful moment together. The light from the sun, no matter how dim, warmed my heart as it cast a golden hue on the ridges and ranges beneath and around me. It was then that I saw the big picture. The end had seemed overwhelming. But if we focus on the small steps we have to take to reach the end, one by one, not getting impatient, determination unwavering, eventually, no matter how painful, we will reach our goals. The effort would be worth it in the end.
On the second day, we reached the highest point in our expedition. The warmth glowed in me as all 30 of us held hands and ran up the slope leading to the peak. Pictures were taken, and the pride and joy written across everybody’s faces were unmistakable. We pitched our tents in the “wild” that night. It was a new experience within the new experience itself. The winds were so strong in that valley that all of us slept in constant fear that our tents would be blown away in the middle of the night. The winds howled and charged around our tents, but all of us felt cosy and warm in our 2 layers of sleeping bags.
The third day was tougher than the second one. We trekked along unprotected mountain ridges. The wind literally swept us off our feet. It was hard to stay on the trail with wind blowing at you from awkward angles. All of us were walking with our bodies tilted at 45 degrees to the horizontal so that we would not be blown away. Ever so often, the strong wind would sweep up piles of sand in front of us and deposit it on our faces, giving us wind burns at the end of the day. ¾ way through the hike, our instructors “ditched” us, leaving us to figure out our way alone, and I was under instructions to feign leg injury. It was heartwarming to see my friends crowding around me, offering me helping hands. Some walked in front of me to protect me from the wind, some walked beside me and offered their hands. When the trail was wide enough to accommodate only one person, those supporting me walked on the rocky soil while I remained on the trail. Whenever the wind blew sand up, they would form a circle and huddle around me to protect me from the onslaught of the sand. One of the guys carried my 10kg backpack for the rest of the hike. All these gestures touched me deeply. Simple yet meaningful.
The rest of the journey was significant, but not as significant as certain parts. We finally rested in shelters where we could bathe, brush our teeth, wash our faces, sit on proper toilet bowls, sleep on proper beds for the first time in the many days we were there. We went to a small fishing village and witnessed life in a laidback sleepy town, something you can never find in hectic Singapore. We went to Seoul and experienced the hustle and bustle of Korea’s city life, and of course, shopped. Korea is vastly different from Singapore, yet I could see tinges of Singapore everywhere. Different in terms of terrain, landscape and weather, yet the city couldn’t escape the fate of westernization. They have preserved their culture in terms of language and eating utensils, yet significant portions of their culture have been lost through the homogenizing effect of globalization. I don’t see traditional Korean behaviour (I don’t know what it is anyway), instead, I see gestures I see in Singapore, in fact, everywhere. The way of life in Korea is inevitably different from Singapore’s because of differences in natural resources and weather. There are also many things you see in Korea that you don’t see in Singapore, for example fans that heat you up instead of cool you down. I spent my last day like a sponge, trying to soak in everything about “Cold-rea”-- the chill, the way the air smelt, the traffic lights, the people, the buildings, the shops, the trees, the pavements, the billboards, the zebra crossings, the subway, the food. It is simply amazing how things can be so different in another part of the world seven hours of flight time away from us.
This trip is definitely a great learning experience I will not exchange for anything else. I have learnt not the take the things around me for granted. The small luxuries in life, like proper toilets, basic hygiene, the warmth, not having to worry about food, not having to take 20 minutes to prepare your sleeping mat and bag before you can finally sleep, not having to squeeze in a small tent and not be able to turn properly, not having to sleep on cold ground with rocks poking into your back, not having cold feet when you sleep, being able to bathe… I have also learnt to treasure everyone around me, for life without your loved ones is unbearable. There are just so many things in life to be thankful about! Things that we have sadly taken as rights, not privileges. I hope that I will never ever forget to cherish them again. I will always remember the nights when the 15 of us huddled around 4 small stoves in the dim lighting of 2 gas lamps, laughing to the crazy antics of Valerie, gossiping, listening to David tell us about his adventures elsewhere, stoning, planning, packing, having night sessions with Ji Ho, eating kimchi and instant rice, lying on Mingquan’s hot water “bladder”, desperately shaking to warm up our hot packs… Among all these wonderful memories, I will never forget the words of wisdom our instructor, Ji-Ho, imparted to us.
“Time will pass. No happiness of sadness will last forever. When you are sad, know that it will not last. When you are happy, savour it. File it away in an accessible place in you heart so that you can find it whenever you need to.” This experience will always be filed away in a safe place in my heart.