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Published: March 11th 2011
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Three different people provided three different answers to the same question. Google wasn't solving the problem either. What I wanted was a bus from Kuala Lumpur to Georgetown in Penang. I had the names of three different bus stations and had just walked to a fourth one that was closed for renovation. Getting out of the city was proving to be more difficult then I would have thought. A variance in prices, schedules, bus routes and cabs to get to the bus stations around KL had my head spinning with numbers, timetables while I was unclear which bus station to choose. I did unleash a profanity chain at the internet cafe much to the displeasure of Richie. I had gotten a little frustrated by all this. What about a train? I checked the website. Cheaper and leaving from nearby Central Station. A day for the choo choo it now was.
My 2:55pm train was a no show but was rumoured to be on his way promptly. At around 4:30pm I boarded my train bound for Butterworth. I still had to catch the ferry to Georgetown, the last one was to cross at 12:30 am. The train should take about six
hours. I was seated beside a Malaysian girl who was returning to her hometown after job searching in the big city for the last week. The conversation was kept constant as we questioned each other about our lives. I was curious about what life was like growing up in this country, she was curious about my travels and what life was like for me back in Canada. We chatted the whole way to her station. It was nice getting to know how someone else from a different country, culture, religion, how they did and how they do, live their lives.
It was dark when the train stopped at a small station in rural Malaysia. Some of the people got out and were on their phones standing around on the tracks. Sometime had passed, I figured something must have broken on the train. Most of the staff were seated at the station, chatting. Turned out there was only one track in that area and there was a southbound train enjoying the rails, so we had to wait. It was near 1 ¾ hours before we were moving again. This was gonna be a close one to catch the last ferry.
It was about 11:00pm when the train continued its trek north while the one of the staff told me it should be around an hour to Buterworth. We arrived around 12:20am. The ferry station was near and I made it on time. I had a few minutes to spare as the last ferry ran at 12:40am. It was well past 1am when I got to my guesthouse.
The next day began with a morning walk with an absence of a map. I found street stalls, markets, shopping centres and met some mechanics that were eager to show me there 1932 Mercedes restoration project. Georgetown has amazing buildings. Red roofed, peeling paint and coloured shutters with lovely front porches. A walk through Little India to catch the smells and sounds. Georgetown is home to many religions and their places of worship. Mosques, temples and churches can all be found within a short walk from each other. Each of them standing proud with there grandness on show.
While walking through the Little India part of town I noticed a temple a few blocks down the street with smoke obstructing my view. I walked down to find the place busy with
people and burning items. I walked and watched as people came out of the temple with incense or paper burning in their hands, they would bow their heads or drop to their knees for a moment then proceed to the out door stoves and insert their burning items into the fire. An elderly man that was helping to move the burning items to the outdoor stove stopped to chat. He explained about the temple, the upcoming renovations, that the Chinese community frequent the place and a bunch more information that got lost in translation or my lack of understanding him properly. I stayed awhile as this man put sentence upon sentence before me. The man talked of friendship, being genuine and treating people properly. He smiled as he spoke, his eyes warm but weathered. He was charming, interesting and eager to share his life lessons. He started talking about his past. He told me about that he used to be a bad man and that he had been sent to prison 12 times in his life. I was fascinated by hearing how he viewed the world, religion, authority, other people and himself. He had many wise words to speak into
my eyes. He rolled up his sleeves to show me the burns and scars that scattered his arms. He was a volunteer here at the temple and if I remember correctly a non-religious man himself. He was proud of his scars, they spoke to him, they meant something to him. It was nice to witness and meet this man.
I decided it was time that I finally rent myself a scooter for a day. A girl I know from my New Zealand days was arriving into Georgetown. I reunited with Denise and she liked my plan to have a day on a scooter. I have never driven a motorcycle or scooter in my life. In fact I can be wobbly on a bicycle or even wobbly on my own two feet. I was a little nervous but traffic didn't look to bad on this island. I found a man named Crazy Ken, who might have had the medical documentation to prove it, who would rent me a scooter without a proper drivers card and a small bond.
Picked up my scooter the following morning. Crazy Ken accepted a much smaller bond then originally planned (15 ringgit which is
$3) on the principle that he trusted me (they do call him Crazy Ken). Denise was a nervous passenger as we wobbled our first few take offs,we got plenty of smiles from the locals in traffic. In no time we were out of Georgetown traffic and cruising towards the Penang National Park. It took a little time to get used to pulling out from a dead stop, driving close to cars, having cars drive close to me and well just being on two wheels. Once I got comfortable on the machine the feeling of freedom arrived. The sunshine, the warm breeze, the ocean, beaches to one side a jungle of hills on the other.
We did get to the national park via an unexpected visit at the gardens and a little beach. We hiked into the forest in the midday heat. I got spooked by a large water iguana that scared me as much as I scared him. He turned from his shade under the tree and into the water and swam off. We walked, we sweated and we said a million hello's to people we met. Schools classes, families and random hikers were excited to exchange hellos (they
are friendly natured in this country). The views from the trail were great, the fact that my shirt seemed a new part of my body was not great. After an hour or so we turned to hike back, already exhausted. We cruised back to Georgetown with clouds brewing a storm above. Later that night Georgetown was under a strange lite sky followed by a beautiful thunderstorm. It was unlike any sky I've ever seen, strange, beautiful, captivating.
With each passing day in Malaysia, with each passing meal, I realize how lucky I am to be here, how great this place is, then I'm sad to think that I am one day, one meal closer to leaving. The smiles of the people, the relaxed pace, the harmony of the multicultural society, plus the food has been more then kind to me. If Cambodia stole my heart, Vietnam made me lose faith and go cold, Malaysia has been warming me to the soul via my stomach. Malaysia is winning me over with each sunrise, sundown, smile, laugh, handshake and meal. I feel cheated that this can't last forever.
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