The euphoria was on the air again.

It has been an end-of-semester tradition. My extra-curricular activities with business communication students always tickle me emotionally, and tire me physically, of course. It started with Genting Highland blast last year. I was practically ‘high’ on the land with my newly-assigned term of endearments – Seman! How carefree it was, laughing and giddying hedonistically with a wild bunch of students. Then, it was inevitably followed by an unforgettable ‘catastrophe’ in Port Dickson. It was absolutely out-of-the-hell fun. This time around, the end-of-semester gathering was celebrated in an enchanting beach called, er, Balok.

Never heard of it? Don’t worry, because you have not missed a thing.

There is nothing unusual about the place. I just realized its very existence the moment I arrived there. Located around 15 kilometers from Kuantan, Pahang, the beach is a typical east-coast type – extremely wavy, seaweeds adrift everywhere, not-so-nice-looking brownish sand (and not to mention the notorious keep-our-beach-clean campaign). We didn’t have a single chance to swim into the beach because, as we were warned by the locals, of the possible dangers of tidal waves. But I didn’t care about all of these shortfalls. Because I was half-sponsored by a Datuk’s daughter!

Jeng jeng jeng.

It was Friday afternoon when eleven of us arrived at the Makmur Bus Station in Kuantan. We were soon picked up by three posh cars driven by three gentlemen. I wondered where they came from.

“So which masjid are we going to perform our Jumaat prayer?” I asked the stern-looking driver.
“There is no masjid around here.”
“There isn’t? How come?”
“No,” he answered rather unconcernedly. “We have to go out of the town, and by looking at the traffic condition now, I don’t think we can make it.”
I was silent. By the way, I could still perform Solat Jama’ since I was considered a traveler. But I wondered whether he was a traveler too.
“So, which one of you is anak Datuk?” he asked us out of a sudden.
We looked at each other. I was clueless, totally had no idea what he was talking about.

Later that evening, I learnt that one of my female students is the daughter of a successful Chinese businessman in KL, which happens to be a Datuk. It really took me by surprise because she was so humbly presentable in the classroom – her style didn’t match at all with her high-profile parents. I was also informed afterward that most of the expenses for food and accommodation were sponsored by the kind Datuk. It was so pleasantly surprising.

We stayed at the De Rhu Beach Resort (owned by a LKPP Pahang State). The resort was located rather remotely in the middle of a kampung area. It overlooked a very enchanting view. For a few momentary visions of absolute clarity, I thought I was at the ‘Garden of Eden’. It surely compensated the ugly-looking beach.

There were two rooms for us, with two single beds each – one room for seven girls (I wondered how they arranged themselves to sleep that night) and another one for four boys (I was one of them, apparently). Yes, it was surely uncomfortable, but what the heck, it is not every night that I would go through this trouble. So, I just went through the night rather involuntarily but also happily.

It was of course a good night sleep because we slept at four o’clock in the morning!

Twelve hours before that, we were having a lot of water-based activities in the resort’s biggest swimming pool (our so-called beach activities!). I nearly sprained my legs since I was too excited chasing the ball in the pool. The grand dinner that night was a barbecue by the dark beach. We were so lucky because there were so many helpful hands from Datuk-related people who took care of so many details of the vacation. This included the Datuk’s wife who suddenly appeared during the barbecue session, complaining and grumbling everything we did (Gee… a typical Datin!). We survived the hassle when she left.

After midnight, we were gathered quite illegally in the lobby. The resort was locked after 12 midnight and guests were strictly prohibited to go out for security reasons (I was not sure what the security guards were doing). It was our only time together, and we didn’t want to end the night so early. If we had gone to sleep early that night, what would be the difference between a vacation and a hostel life? So after sweet-talking to one of the guards, we sneaked out and gathered by the beach under a clear moonlight reflecting beautifully on the surface of the sea. It was a charming setting for lovers. To realize that I was not with anyone called a perfect lover, but with a group of young-blood students, I sighed contentedly, smiling submissively.

It was the night of confession. We exchanged stories – I told them some of the inspiring stories of mine, hoping to enlighten their souls. It was as if the bridge between us had been torn apart. We talked and talked, and stopped for a while when we saw some kind of lights coming out of the nearby bush, being aware of the possibilities of supernatural distractions (or simply getting caught by religious authorities!). But nothing happened. The talks went on and on until the last exciting part when we played “dare of truth” game. Those who opted for “dare” had to perform daring actions like climbing a tree or rolling on the sand. Thanks to logical reasons, nobody chose to do that.

When it came to my turn, I chose “truth”. Eddy was ready to let go of the bomb.
“Sir, are you metrosexual?”
“Er, depending on how you see it.”
He laughed rather creepily and said: “I respect lah you, Sir.”

We all smiled knowingly. In fact, the broad smile lasted on our faces when we woke up late the following morning, checked out at 12 p.m., and departed to KL at 3 p.m. Before I left, they surprised me with two nicely-framed photos, which showcase the memories of our togetherness. Out of so many material choices, they chose memory. It was a perfect gift. And this Balok trip would not easily slip out of my fragile mind.

To Sheila, Natrah, Rin, Liza, Shikin, Azie, Ina, Eddy, Ijan and Wazir – You are my angels!