Experiencing the Red Sea in Aqaba.
A Story of How I Overcame My Fear of Water in Jordan: Part 2 of 3
The seaside city of Aqaba was my last stop in Jordan. Like most travellers, I sought advice from the locals on memorable activities in the city. “You should go scuba diving in the Red Sea,” she joked. An extreme suggestion for someone who can’t swim. However, a few hours of googling and speaking to a diving instructor changed my mind. Turns out swimming is not a necessary skill for scuba diving.
We drove to the seaside the following morning. It was a bright day with a couple of clouds filtering the sun’s light. The sea was calm and clear, with only a handful of boats scattered around the surface. The entire group sat at the edge of the beach as the instructors checked our gears were secure.
After delivering the final safety instructions, we were off. Second thoughts began creeping into my mind like wind slipping through the gaps on my wetsuit.
Gradually, we walked towards the sea. Upon entering, the turquoise-blue colour faded and the water got clearer. The diving equipment weighed a ton. Walking on pebbles and rocks lying under the water while wearing fins felt like a chore.
My heart raced as the water level grew on me. My legs turned to jelly the exact moment the water was at neck level. Like a fish out of water, I panicked and didn’t know what to do. I completely forgot how to breathe. The instructor tried to calm me down. I barely heard a word he said but he looked very concerned. At that point, my mind was full of thoughts from my first time in water.
Sink or Swim: a summer to Forget
I was pumped for the summer of ‘99. My dad dropped my sisters and me off at my uncle’s new home for the summer holidays. The house was paradise. It had everything; a tennis court, a basketball court and a pool.
I practised my jump shots alone while my sisters spent all their time in the pool, learning to swim. A few hours and a hundred failed jump shots later, I walked over to the poolside to grab a snack. Suddenly, I felt two large hands wrap around my waist and tighten their grip. Scooping me up like paper, he threw me into the pool. It happened much faster than my tiny brain could process. I swallowed a few gulps of water and my eyes felt like they had been pricked by a hundred tiny needles. Must have been the chlorine. With every ounce of strength, I fought to get to the surface for air.
What seemed like an eternity for me turned out to be a few seconds. I sat by the pool, unclogging my ears and processing what just happened. I heard my sister in the distance locking horns with the swimming instructor for throwing me in the pool.
Later that evening, my dad came to take me home. And just like that, my “awesome” summer break was over. Thus began my very unhealthy relationship with water. It took almost two decades before I stepped in a pool again and that didn’t last up to two minutes.
“Slowly submerge yourself underwater and wait ten seconds before coming up”. He advised me to do that three times but I made it five. After every dip, I could feel the panic slowly diminish. I felt more relaxed and confident.
I went under again and something caught my attention. Yellow, with what seemed like blue stripes, the fish looked like it was drawn by a Disney animator. And then there was another and another. Weaving their way through the colourful reefs. It was like a busy street at rush hour. I was immediately drawn to them.
Without realizing it, I had been under for over ten minutes, deeper and further than I imagined I could go. What started as panic had completely turned to serenity filled with wonder. The terrifying sea now felt like a giant fish tank.
With my newfound confidence, I thought it’d be a good idea to go deeper to explore some more. The Red Sea is home to a battle tank and airplane wreckage. I moved only a few feet deeper before I realized that was a bad idea. Like getting poked with a pintail comb, I felt a sharp pain in my ears. Pressure! The instructors warned about it but I never imagined it would hurt as much as it did. The nose-squeeze-exhale trick didn’t help. We then released the valve and floated back to the surface. That was enough diving for one day.
That day I left the Red Sea with a sense of accomplishment. I always knew I would have to face my fear of water someday but never imagined doing it that way. One week after returning home, I enrolled for swimming lessons. I actually concluded this story in a tram, while heading to my third swimming lesson.
Now I’d like to hear from you. Have you ever had a life-changing experience on a trip?
Also, if you haven’t seen it yet, here’s the first story of my time in Jordan.
