The Long Visit: Part One

PART ONE

Years after I long visited this place I call my hometown, a small town in the district of Tuaran where time almost stood still but thanks to the youths of this generation, technology managed to slips its reins in society. Why now? I rarely even talked about it during my stay in the great city of Kuala Lumpur. Is it because I know nothing about it? I’ve see the changes, the people, the places, the events that take place, and the events that could have taken place.

After my high school life was over, I told my parents that I wanted to go back to my hometown before I move on with my life. Partially, I wanted to meet my old friends and rekindle long lost love interest but deep down it was just that I wanted a peace of mind.

I packed whatever I could carry in a single bag and off I went to the airport accompanied by my younger brother. I was hoping for something to happen. Something interesting. I closed my eyes after I found my seat and enjoyed myself to memories of old with a number by Queen, ‘Somebody to love’.

In my deep pondering state, I tried to recall memories that would serve me well during my stay. Language, dialect, slang, accent, people’s names and places were my worries. Simply put it, I do not want to look like an alien among my own kind. I also remember a certain place that I went when I was only form one. It was my first camping trip in high school - an English Camping Trip. Funny, I could already converse well in that language but I stoop down my level to match theirs. I know it may sound arrogant but this is my opinion. Not that I was really good speaking in English but like I mentioned earlier, I could already converse well. Why I would remember such memory you would say? It was then I was tested whether I had any issue going after a girl whose religion is different than mine. Fortunately, the results was I had no qualms whether she was Muslim. In fact, I don’t really care. Religions does not dictate my choice or who I should fall for.

And so, I made my move and this was the thirteen year old me that went after her. I forgot her name but I remembered how she looked like. It’s hard for me to describe in detail but all I could say is that, her skin was smooth and she has this mole aligning from the side of her neck which got my attention even more. I tried to remember more of how she looks like but the turbulence from the flight disturbed my pondering state.

I looked outside the window and noticed that two hours had already passed. We were already in Sabah. The nostalgic feeling that runs in my veins started to rush in like wildfire but it was only momentary because I had no clear memories of this place. Most of it were punishments after punishments from my father. I could remember how many times he would beat us up after we were done what we were doing. I also remembered how sweet of a smile my great-grandmother would give whenever she sees us. I would give her a kiss on the cheeks each time we meet, same goes with my grandmother. It is as if they are my queens.

I used to fought my siblings a lot as a kid and each time my grandmother would intervene, the fight soon ended after he uttered the words, “Berhenti!”. Her words are absolute. This is not a sign of fear or respect but a sign of love from her grandchildren.

After arriving at the arrival hall, I thought the first face I would see was my grandmother but sadly it was not, my uncle was the one who picked us up from the airport. I remember him as a young gentleman who first introduced me to games. If it were not for him, I wouldn’t have any interest in playing games at all. I guess my interest in games have toned down due to the fact I can’t really differentiate colors anymore. 
We were now headed to our hometown, the town of Tuaran, where it all began for me.