Island Hopping

Visiting Langkawi Island without hopping around an of the islands would be such a waste. After all, that is what holidays by the beach are all about. You jump into the water, get yourself all wet, and let the sun and the winds dry your dripping hair up.

So, my friends, and I, we surveyed at the beckoning counters upon arrival at the airport. There were various packages which offered a combination of all activities from walking around islands to diving. After a much heated debate and contemplation, we finally decided on the 3-in-1 package which included a dip in the Pregnant Maiden Lake, visit to the Eagle's sanctuary and the Beras Basah Island. Honestly, I got confused with the Beras Terbakar spot. I thought that Beras Basah was equivalent to Beras Terbakar. Apparently, I was mistaken. The two, couldn't have been more different. Former being Wet rice, was an island by itself, whereas the latter was a spot on the Langkawi island where the Siamese burnt the rice and it didn't turn into ashes. Another one of the Langkawi's magical stories that captivated visitors from all over the world.

Can you make out the shape of Dayang Bunting? the Pregnant Maiden?

The moment I stepped into the boat, I knew it would be a totally different experience. First, the boat navigator drove us to Tasik Dayang Bunting (Pregnant Maiden Lake).

The Boat Driver, perched high up on his seat

As soon as we approached the island, he said, "Ok. This is Tasik Dayang Bunting. Everybody, you have 1 hour here. "

Like excited little kids, all of us hopped out of the boat one after another. Upon encountering monkeys, we 'ooh-ed' and 'aah-ed' in amazement, just like city folks, as if we had never seen a monkey before. We saw monkeys grabbing stuff from tourists bags, picking out lice from each other's furs, banging onto the zinc roofs, swinging from tree to tree, and sun-bathing on the wooden bridges. There were monkeys everywhere and we stopped to see every one of them. I noticed that when monkeys yawned, they opened their mouths so wide, and their lips had to be wide open too, flashing their sharp 'fangs' that nobody would ever think of teasing these unpredictable, wild creatures.

As soon as we arrived at the lake, we eagerly dived into the cool, fresh water. My! The lake was deep. I never expected it to be so deep. The information board stated that its depth ranged from 30m - 60m. Before we swam, our boat driver warned, "Ok! For those of you who want a child, do take a few sips of magical water from this lake. Once you drink it, you will have a child by next year. If you're not, then be warned! Do not drink any of this water when you're in it!"

As I swam in the deep blue lake, I was careful not to gulp in any of the water. Yet, I kept wondering to feel the taste of freshwater in my mouth. After all, I had always swam and gulped down lots of salty seawater. This was my first time in a freshwater pool. So, I scopped up some of the water and tasted it with the tip of my tongue. Oddly, it wasn't totally void of salt content. There was a slight salty taste to it, which I could attribute to the fact that it was partially connected to the sea.

Then, we visited Eagle Sanctuary, where some of the boatmen threw fishes into the sea to attract the eagles. The whole area was just flooded with so many eagles flying above our heads! As we looked and stared straight up into the sky, I was impressed not only by their sheer number, but also by the way these proud and vicious animals, proudly spreading their wings and soaring high above the skies, and diving down at probably 0.5m/s , dipping its beak at the surface of the water, before the fishes have sufficient time to sink at the bottom of the water.

Sara, on the other hand was not too happy by this sight. "It will only encourage them to be dependent on humans for food. These animals ought to be fending for themselves. Sooner or later, they are going to lose their natural instinct to hunt and feed their young."

As much as I agree with her, I understood that we could not do much. After all, we were neither naturalists nor conservationalist or environmentalists. As far as I could see, our boat driver was not feeding throwing fish into the sea. I was pacified by the fact that we had not chosen a tour operator who participated in the taming of these wild, protected eagles.

Next, on our itenary was the visit to Beras Basah Island. Until now, I have no idea why it's named as Beras Basah (Wet Rice Grains). I guess it has something to do with the shape of it. The moment we arrived at the steps of Beras Basah Island, bright, shining colourful fishes with strips of blue and yellow greeted us, happily swimming around our boat. When we fed them with our loaf of Sunshine bread, they attacked it in a matter of few seconds. I guess the bread crumbs did not even get a chance to sink to the bottom. The fishes looked so greedy and hungry, as if they had not been fed for 1 whole week.

The island, by itself, was pretty fascinating. Surrounded by white sandy beaches, with part of the seas dark, and some clear waters, schools of fish swam past me as I soaked in its calm waters. I just couldn't believe my luck. I was here and all I could do was being mesmerized by the heavenly view . Mother Nature had truly blended it all in.

As we walked on the jetty, one of the naughty monkeys grabbed the bag of one of our fellow passengers, took out its contents and poured it all over the beach. Our helpless young guy could only venture a weak smile as he thought of the mess that he had to go through at the police station, reporting loss and theft of stolen credit cards, by a certain monkey at Beras Basah Island. The police, by this time, had probably obtained reports of such cases and would not even bat an eyelid when he lodges this report.

Paddy and Tranquility

As a Malaysian, I love all sorts of rice based products, especially Pulut (glutinous rice). If I had the freedom of choice, and suffered no restrictions on my diet plan, I could have rice dumplings for breakfast, Japanese rice crackers for coffee, steamed rice pancakes for lunch, rice cakes for tea and rice balls for dinner. For supper, I can have different varieties of sushi, and kuih, such as angku and layered kuih.

Yet, as much as I love glutinous rice, I was told by my one of my colleagues that eating too much glutinous rice makes one very forgetful. Although I have no inkling whatsover how having excessive glutinous rice erases one's memory, I think there's some truth in it. Anybody who hangs out frequently with me will testify that I have a porous memory, 'non-absorbent' as my cousin would bluntly put it. I have a 3-second memory, just like Dory the Fish in Disney's Finding Nemo. Everybody can tell me anything, but I will forget them 2 seconds later. If it stays more than 3 seconds in my memory cells, then you bet that information must be pretty captivating, and it'll be there for many years to come.

Hence, when I noticed The Rice Museum (Laman Padi) right at the junction before turning into Langkapuri Resort, I was so excited that I asked Aisyah to stop the car and turn around immediately. Aisyah did stop, all of a sudden, in the middle of the road and turned the car 180 degrees. Fortunately, we are on a very secluded island. There'll be cars passing by every 5 or 10 minutes, unlike KL where cars just wheeze past you every second, without giving you a chance to cross the roads.

As soon as we came to a standstill, we hopped out of the car and onto the bridge towards the Rice museum.

On our right, we saw scarecrows and muddy paddy fields.

On our left, we saw healthy living paddy plants.

Up-Close, we saw rice-grains still attached to its stalk!

My greatest pleasure in visiting the Rice Museum was that I got to see my favourite food growing on a plant. So, I happily snapped a picture of it. I was too engrossed in taking its picture that I forgot to pluck of one of the grains and see how it tasted and feel like.

When I returned to the big, bad city, as I was eating a big plate of rice, I began to wonder: 'Cooked rice is wet, sticky and moist; Rice grains that we get from the stores are totally dried, no humidity left in them; How'bout the rice grains growing on the plant? Is it wet? or half dry, or totally dry? How can it be totally dry when it's growing on a living plant?'

I regret that I only thought of this statement as I began to walk out from the twin towers medical centre. I should have touched the little grains of rice growing on the paddy plant as I knelt onto the ground near them. My level of curiousity was just not strong enough, I guess.

A pretty Middle-East lady trying her hands at separating the rice husks from its grains

Making my favourite kuih from scratch : 1st step - Pounding rice grains to make rice flour

Planting paddy is not an easy job. First, buffaloes are employed to plough the field for soil cultivation. Then, the farmers will throw all the seeds onto the ground, water the earth and fresh green plants will sprout from the land. Once the height of the plants are about half an inch, the farmers will bend their backs under the hot sun and rearrange the plants in neat little rows and columns. From far, it looks so symetrical that it'll impress any origami artist, mathematician and neat freak.

Paddy Plants - all arranged in neat rows and columns

When the paddy plants have grown to their maximum height, and starts flowering, the farmers wives will setup a delicate network of string webs to a series of traditional banging tool to chase away d birds. The banging tool consists of a metal bucket and a rectangular piece of zinc roof. As soon as bugs, locusts and swallows come swooping down onto the paddy plants, the farmers' wives will be busy maneuvering the intricate web tactfully from all angles, frightening away the buzzing insects and chirping birds.

The carefully woven web of intricate designs

See! They even have to set up straw hats, 'straw-people' to chase away the crows.

Yes. Indeed, it is never easy to grow rice, no matter where it comes from. From now on, I will not waste another grain of rice on my plate, lotus and banana leaves.

A Vast, Green Paddy Field , right behind Mahsuri's Tomb

Other Captivating Scenes

Picturesque Lovers' Bridge

Reminds me of the Chinese folklore where a pair of lovers who get to meet only on the 7th day of the 7th month, every year, just because they disobeyed the king's wishes.

Algae in the Hot Spring Pond

This scene reminds me of the dwellings of Ursula, the evil witch in Disney's 'The Little Mermaid.'

Hot Spring... No Steam...


2 Aunties searching for 'lala' under the hot sun at Pebble Beach



Reflections on Wet, Compact Sandy Beach




Proverbs at Langkapuri Beach Resort, which can never be found anywhere else, I believe (Click on Picture to Magnify)


Multipurpose uses of Seacucumber (can be made into soap and medicated oil)

I juz luv this simple decoration of the exterior of this shop

Love the idea of house on stilts, on the hills, by the sea

Seeing little pine trees growing from its roots

Looking at the big, bad, sly looking cat

Cows Along the Road

Teritip-s

Keropok Lekor in the Pasar Jumaat

Cherry on the Ground

Nice Indian Restaurant - Papadum Ria

(It has this really authentic, Indian feel)

Stress Relievers

Every now and then, we all come face to face with stress. It is inevitable. Of course, stress, like ants, do not appear by the armies out of the blue. First, an ant spots a sugar cube. The ant approaches the cube, tastes it, likes its sweet melting moments, and brings the second ant. The second ant comes, tastes it, likes it, feels like flying high up into the air and he calls the third ant. Soon an army of ants are nibbling at the giant sugar cube.

The sugar cube is gigantic compared to a an ant which is about 5 million times larger than an ant. So, when the ant comes nibbling at it, the sugar cube doesn't feel a thing. It only feels that it'll be gone and dissentigrated in 5 minutes, mobbed by an army of ants, trapped with no escape route, that the sugar cube realizes that it has no way out.

Stress occurs the same way too. When our bosses notice that we can handle the given work, they pile more work on us. When they see us working on weekends, and throughout the night , they take it for granted that we will work on weekends for the rest of our lives. So, they keep on piling the work on our desks, because they believe whole-heartedly that we will finish our job assignments.

People always say that working hard is the only surest way that leads us to the road of success. Nevertheless, they fail to mention that different individuals have varying definitions of 'working hard'. The definition varies according to the personality and interests of an individual. To an entrepeneur, working in the office until 3 or 4 am is the norm, as he draws up plans and organizes events and staff movement as such around the clock. To a socialite, managing to stay in the office until 5pm is a major achievement by itself.

For me, I used to think that working hard was the sole and only way to climb up the corporate ladder. Yet, as the scene of reality unfolds in front of me, I am beginning to see that aside from the willingness to work hard, sacrificing our time with families, friends and reconnecting with our spiritual needs, we need to possess great persuasion, negotiation and listening skills as well. Yet, how can we listen to somebody else's problems and issues, when we have our own issues to settle? No wonder they have the 'Befrienders' organization in the city. Because everybody is too busy with their own lives, thinking that they are the centre of the world, the issues of others' is less important when compared to their own 'issues. Most of the days, we are bogged down by our own work, so much so that we don't smile at people when we're in the train or elevators; we hunch, like the hunchback of Notre Dame.

One day, I just decided that I 've had enough. I just want to discard everything fo rthe moment and be lost in our own own personal lives. Langkawi, I must say is a truly high stress reliever. It has all these breath-taking places that lifts off the worry and creases across our foreheads.

The schools of pink, blue and yellow striped fishes happily swimming in the deep blue sea reminds me that simple pleasures in life are supposed to be shared with our loved ones. The gigantic Mat Chincang mountain where the cable car station was built, serves as a reminder that despite our best to control the decisions and actions made daily in our lives, nothing can be greater than the power of God. I also learnt how to listen to the waves as they hit upon the shores of the beach. Getting in tune with its steady rhythm, my heart begins to synchronize its own beat with that of the gentle waves. I learn how to be calm and tranquil again.

Looking at the eagles soaring proudly among the skies, singing the song of freedom that we are born to enjoy, revelation strikes. It is just not worth it to stay in the office for 14 hours at the risk of being tied to the desk for the rest of our lives and lose out on the opportunity to meet millions of interesting people who might turn out to be our soul mates. Beauty is omnipresent. To be an admirer, we just got to be alive.

Yes. Langkawi encompasses all of these, stress relievers first of all, then teacher of life's simple lessons that we seem to have forgotten as we get caught up in the web of our complicated lives that we have spun. Visiting Langkawi has a therapeutic effect. It untangles every knot and rekindles our spirits for living. Reminding us that life is worth living, irregardless of what happens, because we are champions who create our own inspirational stories, to be passed down from one generation to another, surviving the tests of time.

Ibrahim Hussein Art Museum

Visiting the art gallery on the hill slope of Mat Cincang Forest Reserve, was a spontaneous decision. We were passing by Pebble Beach when we came across the roadsign which pointed the direction to Ibrahim Hussein Art Museum.

We were curious, partly because Aisyah sparked it by saying, "I want to go to this museum."

"Why?" Sara and I both asked in unison.

"OH! Don't you know? Ibrahim Hussein is one of the most famous local artist. Let's visit his art gallery and see what it's all about." reasons Aisyah with us.

Hence, we wound up driving up the steep slopes, parking right outside the art museum. After we paid RM 12 for entrance fees, we walked in for our first true taste of art appreciation. A minute later, slow, adagio music floated in the air. The calm notes accompanied us at every corner of the art gallery.

As we marvelled at the interesting art pieces, made from common and the most unimaginable things like blocks of wood, newspaper cuttings, flags, cloth, and even treasure boxes, I was captivated by the creativity of an artist. I suddenly understood. There is no limit in art. As long as there are colours, an artist will create art. As long as there is a medium, art can be crafted.

There is a story behind every creation. Humans are born out of love. Art is borne out of inspiration. Truly influential humans leave a legacy. Truly inspirational art leave an imprint in your heart. Even days after, you still sit and think about it.

I'd definitely recommend every visitor to Langkawi to visit this place. I promise, regardless whether you're a lover of art, you will definitely leave this place awed and impressed.

Crystal Blowing and Museums

I never knew crystal blowing was one of the unique attractions in Langkawi until I stepped into the Langkawi Craft Complex. It was here that we found out that only special types of silica sand are used to make crystals. These silica can only be imported from certain countries, such as Holland. In Brunei, I was told, there's a whole hill of silica sand which are suitable for crystal blowing as well. Nevertheless, it is less well-known compared to the ones obtained from Holland.

Thus, when I stepped into the small 'factory' of crystal blowing in the craft complex, I was expecting to see how silica sand can be (which I assume are not transparent) are mixed together with chemicals and other 'ingredients' to become a transparent material. But, I was caught by surprise. In the backyard of the shop, there was no such thing. Perhaps, the crystals were already made before they were brought to this place.

Here, it looked as if the staff were putting on finishing touches to the crystals.

First, I saw how they grind the sharp ends of the crystals to flatten its bottom, shaping the body of a swan.

Next, I saw another staff who looked like he was trying to poke a ole at the bottom of the crystal bottle.

Then, he put it into the oven, turn a few rounds, clockwise, and took it out again.

It's a stuffy job in a stuffy environment. He even had to have a big standing fan situated next to his working seat. Look at the burning rod and the crystal glass stuck to it!

We were in a museum. I expected more out of this visit. Nevertheless, I am sad to say that it was a disappointment. Museums should be more educational. There were nobody to educate us on how crystals were made, what kind of processes they went through, etc.

If I were a tourism minister or an education minister, the first thing I'd do would be to ensure our local museums provide sufficicent information regarding every piece of artefact, every listed activity. I will not leave visitors guessing and speculating by themselves.

We are now in the 21st century. Yet, our museums look as if they are stuck in the 18th century. It is such a shame when we know that we can be better. Today, children of the millenium generation are interested only in computer games, chatting and ace-ing their exams. As the X and Y generation, we should do more to educate our the kids of today, satisfy their thirst for knowledge and curiousity.

Lord Bolingbroke once said, "History is philosophy teaching by example and also by warning." If our children are not interested in history, one can only imagine what catastrophe our world will be in. They will be knocking against many walls before realizing that their forefathers did the exact same thing eons ago and failed.

After all, the peace that we are currently enjoying is a luxury that most countries eye with green jealousy. With issues of climate change and and firing of nuclear weapons loom over our heads, Robert Penn Warren reminds us that 'History cannot give us a program for the future, but it can give us a fuller understanding of ourselves, and of our common humanity, so that we can better face the future.' Yes. To face the future, we must first begin to understand the stories of our forefathers.