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Guest Blog: The Gift Of Swimming


 


This is a simple story of teenage girls who had never learned to swim, even though rivers, waterways and the sea threaded through their lives. I was teaching English at an A Level college in Brunei, SE Asia, for some years and had grown weary of coaching debate teams in airconditioned auditoriums as my extra commitment. So I hit on the idea of starting a beginner swimming group. Not that I had any idea how to teach a young adult to swim. One can hardly bob them up and down as one would a child. I learnt to swim before I was old enough to process fear of water so had no idea how to handle this aspect either. To add was concern about what the swimmers would wear, given this was a strict Muslim country. 

 

Enter Eric and Edna. Eric, a passionate Dutch olympic coach, ran a learn-to-swim program for young children and was generous with his time and expertise, getting me going, and stilling my rapidly rising anxiety. Edna was a local teacher at my college. She never learned to swim, as it was simply not something Bruneian Muslim girls did, until she was in the UK taking her A Levels and the opportunity to swim presented itself. She described how terrified she was and the extreme discomfort of what to wear, of exposing flesh. With a twinkle and a cheeky smile she traced her journey from debilitating self-consciousness to embracing the Speedo. Edna's scholarship extended to university in the UK and she continued swimming throughout. She spoke of how it helped centre her in a foreign country and radically different culture, giving her a liberating new confidence. On her return to Brunei, she was eager to get more girls swimming, but didn't know how. 

 

Edna had the empathy and I had newly aquired, if rather rudimentary, learn-to-swim coaching skills. We joined forces and so the Pusat Tingatan Enim Tutong Swim Club was launched. We started with seven girls that first year in the waist-deep children's pool at our local outdoor swimming centre. Proximity to the equator negated any temperature issues. Swim attire was however a real issue but guided by Edna, the girls were shown culture senstive options, and how to avoid the Speedo!

 

Of the seven there were four true beginners who were as terrified as Edna remembered being. We eased them in and those who were marginally more comfortable were helpful and supportive. Everyone was able to let go of the side and submerge their head and shoulders by the end of that first session. Bruneians are not naturally demonstrative so there was no water slapping or whooping but the energy and enthusiasm after this accomplishment was tangible. An elite sisterhood of water babies was established that day. 

 

Our program progressed through seven levels from absolute beginner to competent squad swimmer. All achieved level 2 or 3 in the first six months. The girls became strong ambassadors for swimming and we went from sevengirls to twenty-one swimmers, boys and girls, of all levels over the next eighteen months. Edna commanded the kiddies pool with beginners and I took the stonger swimmers in the big pool. The students set personal goals, they spurred each other on. We watched teenage self-consciousness and nervousness evaporate and confidence grow both in and out the pool. 

 

One day while I was busy in the big pool, slender, tiny, quiet Fatin made her way to the edge from the kiddiess pool. Miss Fleur I want to jump in here where it's deep she stammered. My heart stopped. She wasn't ready I knew but one would have been remiss not to do something with the courage it took to make those few steps from one pool to the next. I guided her as she slithered in (jump she did not). She was trembling. She nodded when I checked if she was sure about this. She let go, sank into the blue for a second or two, then thrashed for the surface, and the edge. The grin, the dance in her eyes that lit up her face has stayed with me ever since. Fatin progressed to swim 50m without support, and this quiet, timid girl walked with her head held a little higher and her gaze a little more sure. She began to raise her hand in class and contributed to group discussion. And yes, she did get to jump into the deep water.

 

A poignant moment with the seven girls in the early days at the kiddies pool was watching them transfixed as a child in water wings crawled to the edge, sat down and started slapping the water at the rim flow, chortling and gurgling in excitement. Miss Fleur, look, no fear! It was indeed a poignant moment, these young women looking in awe at a very little girl. 

 

It was those original seven brave girls who took the plunge and paved the way for what became a vibrant college swim club. But it was Fatin who articulated it best. She saw swimming as a gift, a gift she would give her children, just like the little girl at the baby pool that day. If Fatin and the other students were going to teach their children to swim....Edna and my job was done! We salute them all.


By Fleur Hanikom

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