Through all the chaos of remembering orders of these memories, I can still sort out one impactful memory through the mass-clutter, being nearly picture perfect, also somewhat forming a personal fear of oceans. A few weeks after arriving at Hawaii in the summer of 2010, being apart of the U.S.A. yet feeling completely separate from America in culture, relations, and most especially nature itself, the memory begins. It all started on what I thought was just a normal day on the beach side villa, visiting my grandma on my mother's side, and some aunts on my father's side. We walk down with the sight of the pink hue of morning sunrise as I feel the sensation of the crisp yellow sand on my feet, which back then I was not cleanly, so caring about particles in-between my feet and fingernails did not phase me. As we came through the passings surrounded by the fragrance of the surrounding flowers, one nostalgia provokes from me which I miss, the waterfalls in radius emitted the soothing auditory ejections of crashing water, as long as I was not too close, of course. Trailing the end of the path surrounding by the vivid green environment of the jungle trees and the underbrush also too affected and adapted upon the tropical humidity, we reached the beach which upon the horizon, the deep-blue appeared in sight. Despite the natural beauty of the area, it was not anywhere near crowded with the occasional five-ten people along the shoreline and in the shallows. The sky being as blue as i’ve ever seen in the paradise that seems now it should be more popular than it was before, my mother was nurturing my infant sister as she said to me, “Just don’t go too far, have fun!” Which I replied with a simple “Okay mommy.”

As they set up the tent and essentials on the beach while I headed to the water, the whiff of shelly sand, and the salty aroma calmed my ecstatic young nerves and mind, when I took my water board with my constraining blue and orange swimsuit and goggles. I hated that water board, and even though it is not present with me, I still do because of the teeth grinding feeling the noise and screechy unexplainable feel it has that makes you want to chip off your fingernails after scratching it. Anyways, getting in the ocean to prepare for riding a wave, which there were surprisingly few of this morning, a few minutes pass… until I am swooped up belly-flat on my board by a massive under-passing tortoise that rose up and carried me on top of my board. This massive creature was larger than the size I was at that age, but I decided to stay on the tortoise as I loved turtles them being my favorite animal at the time, and I exclaimed “Mommy, look!” but still she never replied as I was out of hearing range. Instead, I then looked around for my father, nowhere in my field of vision to be found. By that time, the turtle had unexpectedly carried me out much further than anticipated, and when my leg touched the water subtly, my body was carried with it as I violently side-plunged into the deep blue also frisking my goggles off my face, indulging the salty water now embraced upon my face, and overwhelmed my unprepared eyes. It took a while of blinded eyed swimming until I saw my pale skin contrasting with the water below as my eyes cleared out. At this point, I am now at least twenty paces from shore and still struggling to avoid the small waves from splashing over my miniscule body into my eyes and mouth again, as I attempt to say “Help, help!” repeatedly. It took me a while of swimming towards the shoreline to tell that I was not making any progress and then realized that I was in a riptide, dragging me only further out slowly the more that I struggled. If only six year old me knew what to do in that situation, to swim out then back in, this long struggle could have been avoided. I began to undergo what I thought was the slow process of drowning as the energy drained from my body the more I stroked my tiny arms. At this point, crucially I did not know my father had spotted me and was coming to get me, as I kept struggling against the riptide. Eventually, he got to my worn-out self and carried me back to shore, and till this day my mother and father both say, “Oh, it wasn’t a big deal” to my seemingly near death experience.

Though, looking back upon it, the incident turned out much better than it could have. After all, what if my father did not see me? What if a jellyfish or even a shark got me and I would then be paralyzed in this deep water? But regardless, it was super cool to ride the tortoise almost twice my then size, even if it did mean going through that never-ending struggle. As I stated before, I now have a fear for oceans, and that it the partial reason for it, but I could just be paranoid and your mind likes to play tricks on you, so maybe everything that I think I remember is not as completely true as I might remember it to be.