Perhentian Perspectives

And I'm back!
I know, I know - three blogs in one week! Don't get used to it. Lisa and I will depart soon for the southern part of Laos which is much more remote so my computer access could be limited. But at least I have Malaysia finished and maybe I will be able to get most of Thailand done before I wing it back to the US.

Now for the grand finale (in Malaysia anyway)...

There are some places you travel to that are remembered like home movies – there is movement, there are sounds. But others are seen in the minds eye like scattered Polaroid pictures – composed of a specific detail enriched by colors and tones from which you can choose to focus on one aspect or moment at a time. As a storyteller I prefer that latter. A movie speaks for itself and therefore the retelling can be difficult, too much information is already present. But a picture, well, as they say, a picture is worth a thousand words. And I always have at least a thousand words to spare.
Today, from these scattered pictures in my mind, I choose the definitive picture from the Perhentian Islands on Malaysia’s upper east coast. There are many snapshots of memory from these tropical isles and I must riffle through pictures of beaches composed of minuet shells, sweaty shots of jungle treks, and blurred shots of enormous monitor lizards and a ‘tame’ monkey on a chain, both found on our guest house property. There are underwater shots here too. Glossy pictures of giant clams and brilliantly colored fishes as well as a haunting distant shot of a silvery black tipped reef shark. But I cast all of these aside and stare intently at a simple image instead.
The foreground is dark creating a perfectly square frame around a brilliant spot of light at its center. This dark frame is created by one of the windows in our room, a dorm room of simple means with a concrete floor and five single beds against the dark clapboard walls. If you approach that square of light with me you will see a postcard-inspiring beach that creeps slowly down to the cloudy blue of the waves lapping the shore not 200 yards from where this picture was taken. There is no glass to distort our view. A hinged shutter is the only protection from the wind and rain but the heavy heat that persists well into the dead of night here requires that we leave these windows flung open wide in hopes of a wayward breeze.
Look closer – the beach is populated by a few ragged palm trees jutting out of the sand at odd angles. Just outside the window, past the soft patch of sand that is the perfect size for a volleyball court, two hammocks and their inhabitants sway to and fro. Is it the contrast of dark frame and blinding light that give this snapshot that distinct air of exhausting summer heat? If so, it serves the truth well. The heat was oppressive, draining ones thoughts all activities by midday.
Surely you recognize the figures in the hammock. My fellow gypsies in this journey seem to avoid the head by avoiding quick movements. Each holds a book in her hand, their swimsuits blots of color, light and dark, on the brightly lit landscape.
My snapshot has a hazy quality given to summer memories by the rising heat and cooling waves. It is simple and subtle which are good descriptors of the Perhentian Islands, tucked far away from the touted Penang Island of the west coast though not far enough away to avoid all the tourist hype.
My mind’s ‘lens’ tends to capture these moments that demonstrate an area’s personality by the people inhabiting it in that moment. But that is the great thing about travel companions. Their ‘lens’ may be focused on other points of light, other moments and details. Memory, like all other art forms, is a matter of prospective.
Perhaps to Lisa’s photographically-inclined mind’s eye these island oasis’ are summed up in the bazaar fiery sunset we watched from the barren beaches of the island's west side. Maybe she sees again that ocean spreading out like an endless promise in front of her, its surface mirroring the impossible colors from Heaven’s latest masterpiece. An explosion of oranges and pinks and purples bursting skyward and spreading its golden tingled wings across a darkening horizon. All color, all time, is heightened. The sun has disappeared, no orb-like glow, no red-orange ball of flame, but in its place this eternal golden bird hangs motionless above us, wings spread in twilight flight. Perhaps she sees this water and feels again the dying warmth of daylight or hears the glorious absence of human presence in the tiny whoosh of the water meeting the land.
And who’s to say that Desirae’s picture isn’t completely different? Maybe her mind has captured and held that eerie image of the night sky with the palm leaves silhouetted by the slender silver light of a full moon rising. It is a moon that plays cat and mouse with the drifting clouds, so dark and forlorn that they make the night sky look full of light and life. This snapshot of moonlit shadows and ghostly palm trees has an air of foreboding to it for in the distance the clouds mount higher, the lightening pulses convulsively, and the rain seems eminent. Perhaps she sees again the twinkling of distant stars and hears the soft crunch of footsteps on sand. The moon is dancing on the water now as the clouds break momentarily. In this snapshot the calm before the storm is the peacefulness of a beach glowing with moonlight. And all around, the island glows silver in the moon and frighteningly orange in the lightning’s spastic bursts.
Perspective – the act of applying one’s own opinions and emotions to an object or experience – is automatic and inevitable. Traveling as we do, with short stays in ever-changing places, often brings perspective into sharp focus. Along the road you are bound to meet travelers who have visited this place or thas country and each of them will tell you a different thing about the same place, either a glowing review or a desperate warning. So you learn quickly that the only way to really know whether a place is brilliant or bazaar, worthless or wonderful, is to go there yourself and see what your mind’s eye records. After all, if everyone depended on the perspective of others, nothing would ever change for the better and all exploration would stop. Travel is about exploring and recording, through snapshots, movies and stories (both literally and figuratively), and each perspective is as important and meaningful as the next.
The Perhentian Islands were the final stop on our road through Malaysia and offered a very different perspective of this unique and adapting country. From its busy, modern cities to its antique port towns and its cool highlands and heated east coast islands, Malaysia was different in almost every way from Indonesia and I started to see that the all-encompassing term of “Southeast Asia” fails to provide you a good definition for the amazing variety found in this area. Countries that are closer together than Texas and Colorado seem worlds apart in culture and economy. The road was far from finished and our stories far from done.

That's all, folks! I hope everyone is enjoying the summer weather back home. We have no shortage of heat here ourselves and I must admit I might be ready for the cool fall temperatures when they finally arrive!

Take care. Love from the road...