Mount Kinabalu and people from my past

What is it with Mount Kinabalu and me running into people from my past?

In 2007, I was at Kinabalu Park in Kundasang, at the foot of the mountain, for a media familiarization trip. We stayed overnight at the complex. Just overnight.

And that night, during dinner, I noticed a familiar face at the next table. A Chinese girl. She noticed me too.

I walked over and asked, "What on earth are you doing here?!"

She said she was there with her family and they were going to climb the mountain the next day.

Those were the first exchanges of words we had had after so many years. I had known her during my early working years. We became close. But somehow, during the course of the friendship, things turned sour. We stopped talking.

So, even though we both worked in KL, we had to bump into each other in -- of all places -- Mount Kinabalu in Sabah.

The other day, I was at the mountain again for another assignment.

This time with a group of climbers representing Pride Foundation, a breast cancer awareness NGO.

Not everyone in the group were cancer survivors. Some were officials and friends of the NGO. And not everyone in the group were women, obviously. Apart from myself, there were three other male climbers.

I noticed one guy named Suhairy. Quiet fella. Didn't get to speak to him until much later during dinner at Mesilau Nature Resort. That too, because we were seated at the same table.

He told me he worked with Plus and shared stories about his wife and kids. My impression of him: nice guy, a happy family man who could still find time to do what he liked doing: mountain climbing.

That night as I was about to sleep, a thought suddenly came to me: I knew another Suhairy from my uni days and he, too, loved mountain climbing. I wonder if this is the same guy.

The next morning, due to a change in my schedule, I had literally just a few seconds to establish if this guy was indeed whom I thought he was. The questions came thick and fast.

"Suhairy, you didn't happen to study in UIA the last time, did you?"

"Yes I did."

"Class of 96-2000?"

"Yeah.."

"Human Sciences?"

"Yeah.."

"And they used to call you Joko."

"(chuckles) Yeah."

"Omg. You're Haizah's husband!" I gasped quietly.

"Err, yeah?"

"You don't recognize me? We met once many many years ago at the UIA Matric Centre."

At that point, he took another good look at me and blurted, "Oh, you're THAT Ridzwan."

We have a history. To put it plainly, his wife was my ex-gf.

I knew Haizah when we both were studying in Forms 4 and 5 in Kolej Islam Sultan Alam Shah. We liked each other. I made a gigantic raya and hand delivered it to her because it would not fit in the mailbox.

We continued seeing each other through high school, matriculation and the first few years of uni.

When we finally broke up, it was a tearful one. They say you never forget your first love. It's true.

By then, I had already known about this other person in her life.

I never hear from her again after that.

But now I'm completely over the whole thing. In fact, I was actually a little excited to meet the husband, and to be able to guess, based on what I see in him, that they've had a good marriage with two kids.

I would have loved to stick around for breakfast that morning but my transport was waiting for me.

I volunteered for this assignment. I felt very strongly that I should go. Now I know why.