Drain

Mom’s cousin brought back a new girlfriend, and boy how annoying that 23 year old woman was. Visiting sucks. There’s nothing much in Tampin, just a large area filled with old, half abandoned kampongs. Irritated, I burst out all swears that I can swear out. With mummy busy with visiting, I decided to sneak out, and explore the boredom of whatever that’s still standing.

And so I begin my ‘journey’, carrying a bag filled with my wallet, phone, food, a book and a bottle of water. As I was walking in that small town, I decided to take a detour, entering a small road behind the shops, leading to a small kampong, barely filled with people, and oh so usang. The houses were all made of wood; some were as clear as no more. The kampong was not maintained anymore, so, the nearby hutan is taking over.And so, being female, I decided to enter the kampong, walking on its main road, passing by every old house. After a short while, I reached the end of the kampong, facing a hutan. There, where I was standing, was an old wooden house, where an old granny came out, and said “Nak, buat apo rayao-rayao?” “Tengok-tengok je nek” “Kalo cam tuh, kalo nampak harimao, jangan tegur, jangan buat bising tau, buat tak taw eh, tak mo tegor-tegor” (My dear Malay friends, you know what she meant).

After having her creeping me out, I decided to enter the hutan, just to look around, without knowing that my geographical instincts was about to get me into real trouble. I saw a tree with a fruit that is adable, I don’t know its name, but it taste like passion fruit (grandma taught me). Then, something caught my eye, moving, it was a biawak, huge fella. Came down, and I approach the creature. Realising that action, the giant lizard darted of, fast. I chased it, without thinking. As I was running, I step into a dent, which turned out to be a huge hole. The hole was deep, and the fall was hard. My head went spiny for a while. I rolled up to my back, moving my legs and arms, then my neck, to check if there’s anything broken. Got up, to check for any injuries, none. I look up, and around. It turns out I fell into some sort of a drain. I was in this cubicle concrete structure, all dried up, and with its surface covered with plants, which explains why I didn’t realise its existence. I tried reaching my hands to the top, jumping as high as I could, but with no luck, it was deep. There were no cracks or jolts to help me up and after 15 minutes shouting for help, I realise it was pointless. I knew I was stuck, for sure. There was no way out. I sat, feeling hungry; grab a bite of whatever I had in my bag. I was hoping for someone to find me, but I am aware of how hopeless it was, who would enter an abandoned mini-hutan anyway, no one knows the drain was there.

But I wasn’t afraid. I found it extremely weird that I was not afraid. I should be, fear is the key to survival, makes you think. I was fonder with my curiosity about the drain, its unfamiliar structure, how it resembles nothing like modern drainage systems, how old and decomposing the concrete is, how it tunnels both on my left and right. After spending an hour in there, I decided to find a way out myself. If I can’t go up, then I’ll get out sideways, the drain will surely lead me somewhere. Thus, I followed the tunnel. It was getting dark, and I know I have to move fast before I lose precious daylight. I reached to the other end, deposited in another cubicle of useless concrete. I move on, continuing into the tunnel, reaching another cubicle. I was lucky as the walls were cracked opened by roots of trees, growing through the walls of the concrete. I decided to use the roots to climb up, placing my hands and feet progressively. Trust me; it wasn’t as easy as it is in the movies. I spent half an hour trying to climb out. Once I got out, I look out for a long stick, using it to trek the hutan, making sure I would not fall into anything anymore. I used my bearing I learned from Pn.Rusmarini and especially Cikgu Azmi, identifying where the sun sets, the gradient of the slants and identifying the tree that I might have cross by (and boy I was useless at those skills). I know I should move a roughly minus 25 of west (thanks again Cikgu Azmi for applying that habit into us). Finally, I got out, facing an extremely old house, a part of the kampong the hutan successfully taken over. I follow the path which leads me to the main road of the kampong, and out. I took the small road out from behind the shops, entered the town, and back home. It was already 6 in the evening, or so. My mom went hysterical; I can’t answer her calls, can I? There was no signal. I could not tell her I snuck out, entered an abandoned kampong, chased a lizard into the hutan, and got stuck in a hole.

“Errmmm...I went for cendol mummy, in town...and got caught up with football on TV, sorry”

Went into the bathroom, I checked for scratches and such. I was proud I didn’t injure myself, after a fall like that, I could have broken something. Then, I saw a dried twig tangled in my hair. While attempting to get it out, it scraped the skin of my finger. There goes my record.

After a hot shower back in KL, the shivers start to kick in. I wasn’t scared before. I was too busy thinking about getting out, getting my bearings, wondering about such a huge, unfamiliar of a drain in the middle of a thick bush pat, what was it doing there and such. I wasn’t even thinking about the fact that I was stuck, or might get eaten by wild animals, or die of starvation, or maybe it might have rained, or that it might be too late when people already found me. The thoughts which I left aside came back, and boy was I scared!

I was very lucky. It could have become serious. Thus, I would like to thank Cikgu Azmi for the skills, Artemis, Goddess of the maidens for protecting me, Athena, goddess of wisdom for my actions, Odin, for my bravery, Christ, for my realisations and for making me love myself and Semangat for not making me nature’s food. My friends, who cared about me and the poor, lonely, undiscovered longkang.

And lastly, my dear teacher, Nehemiah Trot, who kept me going throughout the entire moment, keeping me sane, encouraging me to continue planning, which help my survival. I never got lost in a jungle before, and this was my first, even though it wasn’t really a jungle, something I like to call a mini-hutan. You can write that down and nailed it on whoever’s door, I shall write. I am definitely proud to be your young Alexander. Thus, I dedicated this post for you.