The first time I put on a scuba mask inside the training pool, I was nervous that I would somehow manage to forget the elementary thing to do - to breathe out. Once I took my first breath underwater I realised that, not only was it impossible to forget to breathe, it was also difficult to stop giggling. I spat out the regulator while coming quickly up to the surface and my diving instructor followed me out of worry, and asked me what was wrong with his hands.

"I sound like Darth Vader," I explained, once I had controlled my mirth. But the instructor was French and the joke was lost on him. Another girl on the course, a strong swimmer, suddenly pulled her head out of the water.

"I can't do it," she said as she took out her regulator from her mouth, her voice rising as she bobbed on the surface of the pool. "It makes me feel...I feel....I just can't."

The instructor told her they would both go under the surface to the bottom of the pool (where everyone else on the course was already waiting) together. He looked at me, but I had already put my regulator back into my mouth and was preparing to join the others.

 

Wearing all the scuba gear slows you down in the water somewhat, but it was fun to pretend I was a big, fat, lazy carp somewhere in the South China Sea, moving my thighs and calves instead of fins. The others were getting restless and were circling around near the floor of the pool. I waved at them, and they waved back. Finally, I settled on a white square tile and waited for the instructor and the girl to join us. But she had a couple of false starts. She started out swimming down with the instructor, then at a couple of feet under she would jerk her head sideways, pushing away from the instructor who was trying to calm her down, and head back to the surface. Then a couple of minutes would pass, and she and the instructor would be on their way down for a couple of feet, only for the girl to push away from the instructor's hands to the surface again. One of the men on the course made eye contact with me and shook his head when this happened for the third time. I shrugged as well as I could with my heavy shoulders. My thighs were throbbing from the unexpected use of muscles in that area and I was thirsty.

 

The instructor came down by himself. He made us circle the pool in file, then go back and forth, then pick up objects from the floor and finally, circle the pool without touching the tiles at different depths. When we got out of the pool, the weight of our tired limbs made us realise how much exertion the seemingly weightless movements had cost us. But it was a happy moment, as we realised we were one more step closer to being certified. Despite our aching tiredness we looked around and said to each other, "That was fun, wasn't it?" And we looked forward to the day where we would be out swimming with the beautifully coloured fish in the Red Sea, admiring the sprouting seaweed and oddly-shaped coral. Maybe we would be able to spot a shark (we didn't). Or an octopus (we didn't). Or a turtle (we didn't).

 

The girl never joined us again.