what could be a diamond

PD.

not post depression. nor post dated cheques. rather, port dickson. that little town south of here, our nearest reach to a beach, if we can still call it that.

think of port dickson and it brings back a thousand memories, ranging from when i was a wee little girl, running around in the safe comfort that my parents are always there for me to the latest memory of me being the woman that i've grown up to be, once again visiting that town which should have more to offer.

it's like watching a flashback in a movie. that little 7 year old me, running around in flip-flops in the holiday home, full of wonder at the throng of little 'water mosquitoes' that has swarmed all the lightings, commiseration that they only have 24 hours to live and antipathy towards the hundreds of wings that lay on the floor, telling a very sad tale. it was a time of innocence, a time of carefree, a time of simpleness.

the next vivid memory of port dickson is a visit with a group of friends after college; classmates that i have not been very close with but were the only friends who could make the trip. the exams were just over and we were relieved, happy, our hearts light with nary a concern in the world. thoughts of university, the next step of our life, was a million miles away. the week before, a fortune teller has told me that i will have danger related to water in the coming days. i was apprehensive, for sure. to go or not to go. i didn't want to let go of the last opportunity to have fun for that summer, but yet i didn't want it to be a chapter in my life that i will ultimately regret, if i lived through it. i spent days deliberating, and made the final decision to go, but to stay away from deep water. i never told my mum about that fortune teller's prediction, which i didn't know in the end if it was merely a load of crap or did i inadvertently changed the path of my life. we had fun that day. sweet light-hearted fun. we went as a little more than strangers but we returned a little closer.

the last memory of port dickson was a celebration of my mother's birthday in avillion. the whole family, except for mr silly who was away, jumped into the cars that took us there. my dad was singing in the car. he always sing when he's going on a trip with the family, the light heartedness of an impending break from the hustle bustle of our lives. with the family getting larger and bigger, we have been having fewer and fewer holidays as a family. many varied opinions, time-table clashes and the lack of insight to understand how important it is for the family to spend time together has brought us to where we are now. i have not hear my dad sing in the car for a very long time. that night we had fun in the karaoke room. pure simple fun.

there isn't much to do in port dickson. they don't have very good restaurants there, a far cry from sai kung in hong kong, a place where everybody flocks to in the name of good and fresh seafood, locals and international visitors alike. they don't have very nice beaches or waters there, with pollution the disgrace of the game. they don't have very nice hotels there; the latest 4-stars hotel to be built there was in the 90's. there hasn't been much progress to the area in the last decade, to my disappointment. a place that could have been so much more. a place that can hold many memories, of stories untold, of magical moments, of wonderful occasions. a place that can be our hideout from the city life, with its proximity. a place that can be integral in our lives, with it's huge potential. all it takes is someone to identify that it is a diamond in the rough.