Essay

Never say never

By Samantha Loong

A group of us recently went on a camping trip. When the idea was first floated, I seized up inside. I had sudden flashbacks to 1993 where my classmates and I were made to venture out into the wilderness armed with whatever would fit on our backs and a sketchy knowledge of how to survive in the bush. We were tasked with building shelter from what was available around us and were graded on our constructions. Not only did I score a measly number of points but later on, I found myself crammed into a hut full of people and sleeping next to the hairy physical education teacher whose earth-rumbling snores kept me awake all night. Should the apocalypse happen in my lifetime, there's no mistaking that I wouldn't last for very long.

At the start of this most recent camping trip however, it soon became clear that the weekend would be more a case of enjoying the outdoors rather than surviving it. Our campsite had drinking water, hot showers, and even a space to wash our dishes. We arrived in a van, set up camp and were a 10 minute drive from a supermarket. We even had airbeds. In fact, the most "roughing it" we did was fending off vicious little ponies from our food and navigating ourselves back home in the car with a compass once everyone's smartphones ran out of juice.

During the 90s, there were several things I promised myself that I'd never do again. The first was camping. The second was running. At school, every year we held an event known ironically as a "fun run." With muscles aching, lungs about to explode and lagging behind in every mini marathon, I would narrow my eyes at the teachers each time I passed them and silently vow that I would never run again. So what did I start doing — out of my own free will — several months ago? I started running. Inspired by a colleague's experiences, and surrounded by several large, green parks in my neighborhood, it seemed like I might actually enjoy it. I have since signed up for a 5 km fundraising charity event. It looks like I've gone from "fun run" to "fund run."

I'm still as bad at running as I am at camping, but something has changed. Both experiences have improved significantly. I want to be better at them. And I want to know what other hated things from my childhood I should give a second chance. I used to hate being away from home, but now I find myself comfortably living tens of thousands of kilometers away.

The reverse is unfortunately also true. Things I used to love, like horses and ponies, now fill me with dread. And this was even before the campsite ponies launched their attack. But I think I'll continue to comb my memories for all the times I have said, "Never again." I just might surprise myself.

Shukan ST: September 10, 2010

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