I rise to the ocean challenge with considerable help from a seasoned expert

Surfing on a winter afternoon in Sanya, Hainan province, was an exhausting experience for me.

Most of the time, I was knocked down by the waves and struggled to stand up. I pushed the surfboard back to catch another wave, before getting hit by a wall of water yet again.

As someone who grew up in an inland city, I never expected my annual vacation to be this intense. But more important, it gave me a strong sense of freedom, albeit with a taste of salt.

I even complained to my instructor — A Shan, a 24-year-old native of a small seaside village — about the excessively salty seawater. However, he merely grinned and said it was “a gift from the ocean”.

Through trial and error, successes and failures, I learned to stand up on the surfboard by myself, before catching my first wave that afternoon.

It was a feeling like no other. Adrenaline coursed through my body, my heart rate increased, and endorphins were released that made me feel happy, excited, and content.

The first time I rose on the board, I felt as though I was at one with nature, using unseen forces to magically travel on water.

That moment reminded me of the work Hard is the Way of the World

by the Tang Dynasty (618-907) poet Li Bai, who wrote:

I will mount a long wind someday and break the heavy waves,

And set my cloudy sail straight and bridge the deep, deep sea.

I turned to see my instructor flashing a Shaka hand gesture, a traditional Hawaiian greeting and a common way for surfers to welcome one another, which he taught me.

I decided to stay in the village and surf for two more days.

While we waited for the waves, A Shan and I chatted a lot. I asked him if surfing all the time ever became boring. He said it never did.

Lifting his head slightly, his eyes almost blinded by the sun, he viewed the distant horizon calmly and determinedly, before saying: “Surfing makes me feel so free. I feel as though I can live for it and die for it.”

It was strange to hear these philosophical words from such a young man, but they make sense when you realize he was born in a small coastal village and enjoys the sea.

For example, A Shan constantly told me, “Never turn your back on the waves, because you must see them clearly to avoid getting hurt.” Just like in one’s life, it is essential to face obstacles bravely.

When the wind and waves arrive, he said you should not stand still, but push the surfboard in the right way to face the waves, rise with them, and safely mount the board.

A Shan is passionate about surfing, which he took up during his senior year at college, where he studied Chinese literature. After he graduated, he dived headfirst into the ocean, before returning to his village to become a surfing instructor.

He said that after he has saved a certain amount of money, he wants to travel overseas to catch the waves.

A Shan does not appear to be particularly concerned about the money he makes from surfing. During the offseason, he earns less than 10,000 yuan ($1,394) a month, but in the peak season, he can make nearly 20,000 yuan each month.

“People who love surfing are free spirits. They either stay here to surf or teach others how to do so. Many people quit their jobs to learn surfing, and once they master the skill, they sometimes travel to Bali or other places to pursue the sport.

“You are a talented learner,” he told me. “Maybe you could give this a shot and embrace a new lifestyle.”

I sensed that A Shan is doing what he loves — enjoying life freely.

I gained a lot from my surfing lesson — both physically and mentally — and hope to return to Sanya later this year.

However, I enjoy my job and have no plans to quit it to adopt a new lifestyle by the ocean.