Crickets chirped across the endless midnight sky as the faint moonlight shone upon the eerily silent, steep slope ahead. As the temperatures dipped rapidly, I was starting to consider throwing up my hand in a gesture of resignation as it was hard to imagine that only one-fifth of the hike is done.
Growing up, I was the chubbiest in every single class. The thought of lifting my feet for anything beyond mandatory transport irks me as my weight piled, time after time until I learnt that my body size was unfavorably obese. Yet here I was, standing before one of the famed volcanoes, Mount Bromo: drenched in sweat as my lungs heaved, unforgivingly and painfully as I struggled to keep my legs straight.
‘‘Hurry up! If we keep moving, we should be able to catch the blue fire before sunrise. We have just 10 kilometers more!’’ As my thoughts were scrambling to understand the guide, a haunting, cold breeze howled through the vast vegetation accompanied by the harsh realization of how far I was from civilization.
Glancing at my classmate, Ahmad, I could see that I was not alone. Beads of droplets formed on his frowning face as his head swung in slow fashion while he sighed, repeatedly. If regret had a face, it looked like Ahmad’s soul-sunken eyes with his hunched back posture as I was sure he’s replaying the scene of him agreeing to this hike in his mind.
‘‘If you’re not feeling well, now is the time to say it. Some of our bodies are unable to accustom to such high altitudes and it would be good for you to stop and head down if that’s the case.’’ warned the guide as we sat around idly. As Ahmad shared a wink with me mischievously, hot flashes of sheer exhaustion screamed throughout my body while my muscles struggled to calm down amidst the deafening silence that filled our ears as not a single person chose to give up the hike. Dragging my feet across the parched, cracking soil, I knew this was my one chance to prove that I, could be ‘sporty’ too.
The next 9 kilometers were excruciatingly hard to bear. Each step ahead was like walking into the cursed forest of no return as wild animals screeched incessantly while mist clouded the path ahead. Whoever said hiking was fun entertained a death wish as I stared, petrified: yellow dust dancing in the atmosphere as an eternal stream of sharp, jagged rocks haunted my waking sight. Climbing the ravine was no easy feat, every slip in my step made me momentarily forget all else as I clutched the sparse vines for dear life: knowing that if I fell down the ravine, death was probably going to be imminent.
Just when I thought my heart was going to give out, a blinding brilliance of orange hue peeked across the horizon as my eyes shut forcefully in retaliation to the sun’s beautiful greeting. Filled with an intense desire to share this bittersweet feeling with someone, I patted Ahmad’s dusty arm now caked in an array similar to a dirt buffet. As we stared ahead with tiredness that is fulfilling rather than exhausting, it was difficult to not feel like one could conquer the world.
