An Encounter with Kindness in Sabah(A rewriten post)

On 19th November 2012, I visited Sabah and joined a local tour on a trip to Kinabalu Park, a world heritage site that boasts the famous canopy walk and the Poring Hot Springs. 

The drive up the park took nearly three hours. The undulating road wound around the Crocker Range like a coiling serpent. The higher we went, the wider expanse of emerald vegetation spread before us. Layer after layer of mountains rose like waves, becoming one with the sky in the distance. My companions were a female Kadazan tour guide and a four-member British family. With their humorous banter, they made the bumpy ride an enjoyable one.

When we reached the park, I was blown away by its beauty. It was surrounded by mountains in varying hues of green. The sight offered me a welcome respite from the concrete forest in which I lived. To go to the point where the canopy walk began, we had to hike a slope. Its steepness took a toll on my overweight body. I fell behind my companions, unable to keep pace with them. Mr. Dave, the patriarch of the British family, breezed through the ascent despite having had two hip replacement surgeries in six years. His sprightliness made me feel ashamed of my poor stamina. Panting and puffing heavily, I paused along the trail many times to catch my breath. At one point my body was so drained of energy that I wanted to give up, but some hikers prodded me to press on.

            “Buck up, fella,” a Filipino man piped. “You can do it!”

            “Think of the beautiful sight above,” said a Dusun woman. “And you will soon forget about your tiredness.”

            I gave them a wry smile and came to a stop again.  The knapsack on my bed seemed to be getting heavier and heavier.

            “Brother,” said a young Malay man. “If you don’t mind, let me carry your knapsack.”

            “It’s okay,” I declined.  “I can cope with the weight.”

            “Are you sure?” He said doubtfully.

I clenched my teeth and with a big stride, stepped over a protruding root.  But I staggered backwards and the young man reacted quickly, propping me up from behind.

            “Thank you,” I said in embarrassment.  “There are too many things inside my knapsack.”

            “Let me carry it for a while,” insisted the young man.  “I will return it to you once we reach the canopy walk station.”

Moved by his sincerity, I unstrapped the knapsack from my back and handed it to him. He carried the bag as if it were weightless and I could not help thinking that I was getting old.  Without the encumbrance of the knapsack, I was able to get my second wind in the last twenty minutes of the ascent.  Amidst applause, I reached the canopy walk station.  After thanking the young man and the other cheering hikers, I placed the knapsack on my back once more.  Its weight seemed to have been magically reduced within minutes!

The canopy walk is a series of suspension bridges that span an infinity of greenery.  If you fall, your body will surely be crushed into pieces.  At first, I was hemming and hawing about crossing the walkway but the sight of many gleeful kids bouncing along the wooden planks emboldened my spirit, compelling me to take up the challenge.  Supressing the tremor that fanned out from my spine, I held the rope handrails tightly as I gingerly crossed one bridge after another among the highly elevated treetops. My confidence grew when my steps became accustomed to the shaking rhythm of the bridges. There were viewing platforms at the intersections of the bridges.  The green cornucopia of ravines below the walkway was awe-inspiring and divinely beautiful.  All my tiredness evaporated.

Upon completion of the canopy walk, I pumped my fist in jubilation.  In my eagerness to reach the foothills, I trotted down the sloping trail. Midway through my trek, I carelessly sprained my left knee, resulting in a sharp, excruciating pain.

 “To reduce the pain,” advised an Indian lady. “Sidestep your way down the slope.” I followed her advice, but the pain simply worsened.

            “What is happening to you?” a middle- aged Chinese woman and her teenage daughter asked me.  I told them about my sprained knee and they gave me a look of commiseration.

             “May I take your picture?” the daughter asked.  “When we reach the foothills, we can show your photo to the security guards and tell them about your predicament.”

 “Thanks for your helpfulness,” I said. 

The daughter also saved my phone number in her cell phone.  When she and her mother were gone, I sat down on a tree stump and rubbed my knee in a futile effort to ease the pain. After resting for twenty minutes, I got up and, through the sharp pain, resumed my descent. With determination, I managed to limp all the way to the safety of the foothills. Two security guards recognized my face from the photograph taken by the two kind ladies. They asked if I was all right and I thanked them for their concern.

My next destination was the Poring Hot Springs. The public bath area is located near the foothills. My tour-mates, the Kadazan tour guide and the British family, must have been there long before I arrived. I wanted to change into my swim trunks and enjoyed a hot bath, but there was no locker room in sight. I did not feel safe leaving my belongings in the changing room. Just as I was about to give up on my plan, I heard Jeff, Mr Dave’s son in law, calling my name. Relieved to see him and his family, I went into a nearby changing room and changed into my swim trunks. The British family had reserved a bath for me and they were willing to take care of my knapsack. With my mind unburdened, I was happy to immerse myself in the mineral-rich hot water, which helped to soothe my aching knee.

It was finally time to leave the public bath area. It took us another three hours to reach Kota Kinabalu. I bade farewell to the tourist guide and the British family. It had been an interesting trip, and what a physical feat I had achieved!

Lying in my hotel bed at around 9.30 that night, I received a text message from the kind mother and daughter. They inquired about my condition, and their obvious concern touched my heart deeply. I told them I was safe and thanked them for their kindness. Before turning in, I said a prayer of gratitude to God.  It was God’s plan for me to encounter so many kind people that day.