In a forgein place, with nothing but roaring waters and beautiful trees,

I scale the rough terrain like a wildlife expert. 

Nothing but peace and love in the local Jamacan eyes.

The aroma of musty water and green moss fill my nostrils,

I stand there, soaking in the scenery, eager to hear the next jamacan tune, 

My mom to my left telling me this is going to be a journey.

The words journey stick with me as I look up and down the rocks ahead,

Who knew water could feel like hundreds of rocks pounding my shins?

The water shoes only had so much traction and I struggle to stay on my feet.

Pulling my body weight never felt harder when I reach the top.

A rush of relief over comes through my spine,

I can still see the faces of the four tourists; they saw I was the first out of the group to reach the top.

There was one task left to do, so filled with adrenaline I leap.

I will never forget that beautiful flow of water when I surfaced.