The People We Are

By Iqa Mohd Salleh
📍 De Palma Resort, Kuala Selangor
🗓️ 1 – 3 August 2025

Beyond titles and tasks — this is who we are.

A glimpse into our department retreat, where laughter, teamwork, and spontaneity reminded us that we’re more than just colleagues.

Some might argue that it should be enough to see our colleagues within the measured boundaries of the office. That professionalism ought to live and breathe only within those walls. Well contained, disciplined, structured and untouched by the spontaneity of the outside world. 

There is no need, they might say, to witness ourselves giggling on a tram, bound for monkeys. Nor do we really want to know that the person in the next cubicle actually enjoys a weekend away, not with family, but with colleagues. The workplace, after all, has its own order, its own quiet rituals. And perhaps, for the sake of keeping things neat and professional, that’s where it should all remain. 

And yet, there is something undeniably revealing about the spaces in between. In the soft chaos of the informal, we begin to unfold. A version of us starts to emerge. Perhaps lighter, freer and the sweetest part: unburdened by spreadsheets and deadlines. 

Hidden talents, long dormant, find themselves awakened by a setting charged with life. 

Who would’ve thought our boss, Prof Victor, had a knack for dodging poison balls? Swift, strategic, the last one standing, beaming like a kid in a schoolyard game. The sole prize contributor of his team, no less. 

Or that Haniff could draw a cat with his eyes closed. Whiskers floating far outside the face, and still, the juror called it a masterpiece. 

It wasn’t exactly a surprise that Prof Noran had great showmanship when she sang Standing in the Eyes of the World. She owned the room, literally gliding through it, microphone in hand, pushing it into people’s faces for them to sing, even as some tried (and failed) to escape. It was the perfect affirmation of her celebrity spark. 

What we didn’t realise was that Dr Bala could sing too. Tiada Lagi was his song of choice, after a serious contemplation between that and Isabella. Now we know who we should ask to represent the department for any singing competitions. 

Three-legged races; bowling with coconuts; and water balloon chaos. At some point, we felt that Haizril, our photographer, might have enjoyed taking photos of us carrying straws above our mouths. So there we were, lips comically pursed, straws awkwardly balanced on our faces while we raced, each of us revealing quite possibly the ugliest version of ourselves 

Four groups. We gave ourselves names like Eagle, Laka-laka, Champion, and Celebrity. No fixed rules. Just spontaneity, just being whatever felt right in the moment. 

Laka-laka ended up winning the most prizes. Lucky them. Or maybe just loud enough to convince the judges they deserved it. Either way, it wasn’t really about the winning. It was about the cheering, the inside jokes, the ridiculous team moves no one will admit to remembering, but will probably do anyway. 

For instance, how could we forget the squawking of Team Eagle—hands and one leg raised, as if mid-karate move. It was both confusing and hilarious, but they committed to it fully. 

Moments like these blur the lines between roles and remind us that before anything else, we are people. Flawed, funny, and wonderfully unpredictable. And maybe that’s the point of it all: to let our guards down. 

So when we came back from the retreat in De’Palma in Kuala Selangor, we returned as mere humans. 

Sometimes, we need a reminder that it’s okay for colleagues to be just people together. 

We are more than our email signatures, our job titles, or the way we’re introduced in meetings. Outside the confines of deadlines and directives, we remember that we carry stories, quirks, histories, and humour. 

That the colleague who always seems rushed in the hallway can, in fact, tell great ghost stories by the campfire. That someone you barely speak to has a singing voice that silences a room. That leadership doesn’t always show up in directives; it shows up in unguarded joy. 

These reminders matter because they restore our sense of humanity at work. They build trust where hierarchy usually stands. They create room for empathy and a culture where people feel seen. When we return to the office after moments like these, we carry something lighter and strangely resilient. 

And maybe that’s the quiet power of stepping outside the workplace together. Not to escape who we are at work, but to remember the parts of us we often leave at the door when we enter the office. 

Note: Special thanks to the organising committee, led by Dr Maslinor, for pulling it all together!