Verbalism Personified

Getting down and Dirty!

... I found plenty of eager participants. It wasn't unexpected of course, given that young teens were looking to get down to some hot and sweaty action with experienced adults.

Mingling awkwardly, we were given a once-over on the rules. There was to be no high-risk activity or impossible bodily contortions. In addition to the joys of physical exertion, this was meant to be exhilarating, safe and fun.

After a sizing-up, we were grouped into three-somes and four-somes. With a random sampling of male and female couplings, we were told to get our gear off when we were led to our spot. Functional as an ice breaker, having little or next to nothing on makes it easier for all parties to get right down to business. Which is why we were there in the first place.

As some boys looked on with anticipation, you could hear girls breathing with bated breath when th organizers informed us that we would be supplied with certain preventive implements for our own protection. At that, some among the group started smiling at each other. However this was not done to protect the delicate sensibilities of some but rather to help break any inhibitions others may have. Getting down and dirty was meant to be fun.

Taking our handouts from black colored bags and being led to a secluded area was just the beginning. As these handouts came in pairs, it was a motley of laughter and giggles as people broke them out and tried them on. All of a sudden, tiny digits became super-sized ones!

The walk didn't last long however as groups started disappearing in secluded patches. Squeals of delight mingled with grunts of hard labor. Apparently a few were simply too eager that they threw all caution to the wind and dove straight in.

Along for the ride were photographers, who by now, were in a frenzy taking pictures of the action. Aiming this way and that, they were determined to capture every filthy angle they could worm their way into. I wondered how long before they would get the itch and join in on the fun. After all, there is only so much enthusiasm one can take before wanting in.

My spot turned out to be a stretch of beach and our walk 'deep inside' seemed far enough. Not to be outdone, my group got straight to the point. Dropping their gear on the dry granite rocks, they fanned out along the sandy shoreline, each eyeing the choicest parts and zeroed in without hesitation. Looking across the sea was Johor and what better way to spread neighborly love than to participate in some nature loving yourself.

With my gloves on, I scooped up a trash bag and proceeded to clean up the coast. Making my rounds, it wasn't long before I handed in four bags of plastic bottles, Styrofoam packing, cardboard, string, aluminum cans, drinking straws, pig's heads and newspaper.

It didn't matter that I was wearing a white shirt in the mangroves. After all there is nothing that a washing machine, hot water and stain-removing detergent can't fix. But the blue cap and sunglasses served to make me look like a lost tourist in the sea of industrious volunteers. Thank goodness I had downed a good quantity of tea with milk before heading over. With fire in the belly, I was ready for action.

Later on, it was revealed that the coast had already been worked over. Thus it looked relatively clean. But at that moment, Adrian passed by and told me of a goldmine in much need of picking. Without hesitation, I grabbed a couple of trash bags and we scooted over.

And surely, it was a sight any garbage collector would have loved.

Sweat piled upon muscles as two blokes worked to bring order to the chaos. It must have been an hour as the haul came up to five fully laden bags and a page full of data. Luckily for us, there was a bowl-shaped opening in the shrubs that short cutted the route we took. Along the way, assistance arrived in the form a wheelbarrow.

The walk back was relatively quiet. Adrian and I paused to take a big swig at the water point. As we drank, we watched the spent, tired bodies making a beeline back to civilization. With grins and smiles, some looked like they have had a satisfying roll in the mud.

A final tally totalled up the day's takings at around three and a half tons of garbage. This data would then be sent to the ministry. It wasn't too long before I was riding in the air-conditioned comfort back to the office. I must have dozed off somehow as I suddenly awoke to find that I had dreamt up the entire event.

Rushing out of bed, I was greeted by my alarm clock reading a quarter-past-seven. Missing the Clementi McDonalds pick-up point entirely, a flurry of messages was sent to Hua Qin's cell phone. In the midst of getting ready and downing hot milky tea, he assured me that he would be there on hand when I arrived. Bolting out of the door and into a cab, I sped down the highway to Sungei Buloh Wetlands Reserve. And when I arrived at the carpark, I realized that I had just made it. Looking around...

posted by Teutoburg @ 2:46 AM