70 km

Boat ride to the Mainland

The boat ride was smooth as marmalade this morning as we left Pulau Perhentian for Kuala Besut. The boat came at 8:00 a.m. and we were stepping off at about 8:40. What a difference smooth seas make. It was fun! I was smiling! No arm stiffness or neck soreness was necessary. We got sprayed just a wee bit, and the breeze was cool on our faces. It was a lovely way to greet the day. Now we head West across the peninsula.

Not Our Crash

A few kilometers after Kuala Besut we stopped for breakfast #2 (I’d been so nervous I couldn’t do much more than a piece of toast and coffee before leaving the island) and while we were joking and smiling with the locals in the roadside cafe we heard a loud crunch. Dave said he immediately thought the bikes had been hit, but I’d turned around in time to see that a scooter had been hit. A young mother and her toddler were just slowing to pull into the cafe when they were hit from behind. The mother instinctively folded around her baby and rolled, coming away with only the back of her hand scraped. The child was fine, and in fact he didn’t even cry out loud.

We were curious to see if we’d finally see some police in action, as we see grand “Polis” buildings in every town but never see them out and about. But no, after maybe ten minutes the driver pulled away while talking on his cell phone. It was all no big deal, as the husband, whom we’d been joking with, laughed it off after a while, while the woman who’d been hit motioned to us laughingly that he’d been hit on the scooter TWICE already. Huh. Funny thing, this getting hit by a scooter. Ha ha, let’s all finish our coffee.

Dave and I have bar-end mirrors that we check constantly while riding, but especially through towns. There are little roadside cafes and food stands before, throughout, and after every town we go through. People pull off the road, or sometimes park in the far left lane to visit these places while traffic is supposed to veer around them. Add to that at least as many scooters as cars, plus bicycles all sharing the same lane and these situations get tricky. We’re very careful, and for the most part it works very well. The way I see it is that the cars slow or swerve to make room for scooters on their left. The scooters swerve or slow to get around the bikes. The bikes just need to make sure they don’t get “doored”, or hit by an opening door on the left, or run into pedestrians or cars inching out into the road.

Note to Jan (Mother Snowberg) and Grandma: please do not let this keep you up at night. We’ve gotten through a month and most of peninsular Malaysia alive and without even a close incident. It works very well, but we are also extremely diligent in watching the mirror and the road ahead and keep to the flow of things. It’s OK, but this was a wake-up to be even more careful.

Another Generous Malaysian, Yet Another Friend

Around 1:00 we stopped in some shade and were getting ready to pull out the food bag and have ourselves a hearty snack. Before we could, though, we were approached by a car. The driver got out and asked if everything was OK and if we needed help. He gave us his card: he’s Nik Mahadi Hassan, a journalist with TV3, one of the main stations of Malaysia. We chatted for a couple of minutes, and he asked us to come to his house for lunch instead. It was only a couple of km. back. We agreed, and followed him back to his house. He had us sit in his beautiful living room (our sweaty, dirty selves!) with a cool breeze from the ceiling fan blowing. He served cold juice and brought out oranges and bananas. He then brought beans and bread and butter.

We ate a great meal while we talked about the similarities and differences between our countries. We also got confirmation that we’d made the best choice in choosing to enter Thailand from the West side. He grew up in the border town where the main East side highway crosses into Thailand, and even he does not recommend going through there any more due to the Islamist militant insurgency that has been wreaking havoc since 2004. We enjoyed talking with Nik and meeting his wife and some of his seven children. And we so appreciated the respite from the intense sun and the lunch in his home. How many times can I say we are amazed at the generosity of the people we are meeting on this trip?

Pakistan, No. U.S.? Very Good Country

Down the road some more, this afternoon we stopped at a tiny store that had a cooler full of sodas. We grabbed our favorites (Coke for Dave, and 100 Plus for me–like gatorade only carbonated and tastes like Squirt), and ice cream bars from the freezer and sat on the front steps in the shade. A minute later a young man pulls up on a scooter. He approaches Dave first (always, men address Dave first, and usually include me later) and shakes his hand, touching his hand to his heart afterward in the Malaysian way. He then tentatively asks “From where?” and Dave answers, “United States.” The young man smiles, nods, and squats in front of us. He is a serious sort. He’s quietly looking at the map, then points and asks “To where?” and Dave answers. They proceed like this, a couple of words at a time, and finally I’m included as I also answer some of the questions. We are communicating a lot with few words, smiling and shrugging sometimes when neither of us can get a point across. His name is Ahtuh, and he’s from Pakistan, going to University in Malaysia to become a doctor. He will go back to Pakistan when he’s done, but he tells us Pakistan is not good right now. His one word explanation: “Al Quaida,” and he shakes his head. He looks up at Dave, “America. Very good.” Thumbs up. “Pakistan…” and he moves his hands in a flat motion.

Quiet again. He does not rush to fill in the silence, and neither do we. We are getting used to this way of communicating with few common words. This culture does not need to fill all the silent seconds, and we are slowing to the pace as well. Maybe it’s me who is slowing, because Dave I think has always been OK with it. It is comfortable when you realize there is not always something to say. Few words sometimes say more. When we stand up to go we exchange meaningful handshakes with Ahtuh, and I think we all feel the richness of this moment and we wish each other well all around.