29 nov: Returning to St John’s Island is always a familiar journey. Although today we had a much smaller ride in the form of an orange mini-ferry, the strong scent of sea water immediately summoned memories fourteen-years-worth strong.
Then upon reaching, we walk the paths, as if we know it by hard; across the jetty, along the sea, and up the hill to the old yet oddly endearing one-storey camp site.
I had to tell the kids what this island means to us, how our parents were already here in 1976, how the generations created their generation’s worth of memories right here in one of the southern islands. Strangely enough, they suddenly turn wide-eyed and curious. Perhaps they were trying to locate themselves in this rich tradition; they wanted to know how they could be part of this special event that we have every year. And while they seemed hopeful, I wish that those hopes will not die. Because as kids ourselves, we were full of hope, but along the way something made us question. How many of us return to share tales of good times with young ones who need to know of it more than ever.
1 Dec: Someone awful is in the process of constructing a road to connect the island to Singapore. What used to be a scenic view of ships and blue sea is now replaced with an interruptive highway built on reclaimed land that cut across the sea. Then when we walked further into the island’s centre, we found the tropical marine institute, a complete mismatch as it stood out starkly amongst the old fashioned architecture of the rest of the island. Fortunately for us, there was consolation amidst the news of industrialization happening on our island: the colour of the sky this morning was nothing I have seen before, in Singapore at least. Orange yellow fade with blue, something funky-crazy-beautiful.
Where else so close to home can we come to healthy blue skies and puffy clouds; not be bothered by weird looking bugs flying into your face; watch butterflies fly between the grass blades, walk bare feet anywhere: sand-grass-sand, amazing therapy. Never mind the one-inch thick mattress because waking up to this island makes us sleep sweet.
By the third day, we don’t want to leave.
We just played hopscotch by the sea, at a time when the tide was coming up so the crashing of waves came up to our toes. Simple fun like the other things we do, I want more of these. These past few days have been filled with special moments, albeit some bugger ones. From the night outside the campsite where the most unlikely four of us had a heart-to-heart talk about our spiritual walk and we shared about the struggles, to the tiny moments where Alex or Joshua, our littlest kids, say something so innocently hilarious, we roll in laughter for a minute too long.
I say again, there is something about this place that magically takes our mind off our lives that are a half an hour ride away. I think it’s the fact that there is nothing here, and we create, appreciate and bask in the beauty of His creation.
More importantly, watching the kids grow. To hear the quiver in the voices when they pray, their yearning to want to be closer to Him, hear them say they have learnt, they have enjoyed, and they will miss it.
As much as it was tough with the shortage of workers, as long as the campers were happy, I am. But our work is not done, we must look forward to the next, and keep this beautiful thing going.
I love the island life and it will take me a while to recover like always. Till then, I pray that God show us what the next step is. We want to make things better, and through prayer, I know He will allow us to see it.
Then upon reaching, we walk the paths, as if we know it by hard; across the jetty, along the sea, and up the hill to the old yet oddly endearing one-storey camp site.
I had to tell the kids what this island means to us, how our parents were already here in 1976, how the generations created their generation’s worth of memories right here in one of the southern islands. Strangely enough, they suddenly turn wide-eyed and curious. Perhaps they were trying to locate themselves in this rich tradition; they wanted to know how they could be part of this special event that we have every year. And while they seemed hopeful, I wish that those hopes will not die. Because as kids ourselves, we were full of hope, but along the way something made us question. How many of us return to share tales of good times with young ones who need to know of it more than ever.
***
1 Dec: Someone awful is in the process of constructing a road to connect the island to Singapore. What used to be a scenic view of ships and blue sea is now replaced with an interruptive highway built on reclaimed land that cut across the sea. Then when we walked further into the island’s centre, we found the tropical marine institute, a complete mismatch as it stood out starkly amongst the old fashioned architecture of the rest of the island. Fortunately for us, there was consolation amidst the news of industrialization happening on our island: the colour of the sky this morning was nothing I have seen before, in Singapore at least. Orange yellow fade with blue, something funky-crazy-beautiful.
Where else so close to home can we come to healthy blue skies and puffy clouds; not be bothered by weird looking bugs flying into your face; watch butterflies fly between the grass blades, walk bare feet anywhere: sand-grass-sand, amazing therapy. Never mind the one-inch thick mattress because waking up to this island makes us sleep sweet.
By the third day, we don’t want to leave.
We just played hopscotch by the sea, at a time when the tide was coming up so the crashing of waves came up to our toes. Simple fun like the other things we do, I want more of these. These past few days have been filled with special moments, albeit some bugger ones. From the night outside the campsite where the most unlikely four of us had a heart-to-heart talk about our spiritual walk and we shared about the struggles, to the tiny moments where Alex or Joshua, our littlest kids, say something so innocently hilarious, we roll in laughter for a minute too long.
I say again, there is something about this place that magically takes our mind off our lives that are a half an hour ride away. I think it’s the fact that there is nothing here, and we create, appreciate and bask in the beauty of His creation.
More importantly, watching the kids grow. To hear the quiver in the voices when they pray, their yearning to want to be closer to Him, hear them say they have learnt, they have enjoyed, and they will miss it.
As much as it was tough with the shortage of workers, as long as the campers were happy, I am. But our work is not done, we must look forward to the next, and keep this beautiful thing going.
I love the island life and it will take me a while to recover like always. Till then, I pray that God show us what the next step is. We want to make things better, and through prayer, I know He will allow us to see it.
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