Langkawi…then and now…

While on the ferry to there, my husband and I reminisced the first time we set foot on the holiday island. It was in 1987. Our son was only three, his elder sister, five years older and another eleven year old cousin of theirs. The conditions then was very laid back. Not very many places to stay. A restaurant up a hill beside the weather beaten jetty. We were exhausted when our feet touched the ground, amid the jostling crowd who apparently had the same idea as ours. To spend the Chinese New Year break....on impulse! We did not anticipate that it was going to be such a hassle…

A kindly man may have noticed our forlorn looks for he stepped near us, offered a ride in his car, to find a place to stay. We were more than happy and full of gratitude…

A few moments later, we found ourselves agreeing to stay at a huge kampong house (which was just built and still smelled of fresh woodwork). Upstairs were two bedrooms, a grass mat, two pillows and mosquito coils with matches. All for two ringgits per head per night (and that means adult heads, children not counted!) Nobody complained. We were grateful. There was a roof above our heads. And the next day, we were taken round the island by the same kindly man for a meagre fee. The ‘beras terbakar’ (burnt rice) - we picked and laid on our palms...the children laughing and had such a great time! To me, there is nothing more refreshing than the sounds of childrens’ laughter. A melody no music can capture...What more did we want? Such simple pleasures!

Fast forward! We were on our way to there again. This time around, in a more sophisticated speed boat. And Langkawi as it is now is such a far cry when we first saw it more than two decades ago. The old jetty is now just like the setting at an international airport somewhere in Europe. The ‘beras terbakar’ no longer to be seen and handpicked by visitors. We have seen the gradual changes taking place. Our little son eventually grew up and spent two years of his teenage years in a resort-like residential junior college there (of which, became the setting for a few episodes in my book, Sentuhan Muttaqeen), making us frequent visitors of the lovely island throughout that duration. Time sure flew very fast. My young son is now a young man, in his final year, M. Eng. programme at the University of Manchester. He will be finishiing his studies by May 2008, Insha Allah.

I remembered again sometime in the eighties too. We were there again as a family. The trip was sponsored fully by the institution we were attached with. My husband by then, was the head of a department. It was a meeting of all the ‘big heads’! But of course, during that trip, I was just a mum accompanying my two children.

I gathered another two other mums and their little ones. Three mums and ten children. We rented two cars amongst us. Then suddenly, there was power failure for the whole of the island. We had not even filled up the car with enough petrol yet. Then, with what little that we had, we drove to a small kiosk like station (it looked more like a small hut waiting to fall under). An old man called out to us, asking whether we wanted petrol, smiling as he did. I simply could not erase the scene afterwards from my mind. Even now, I can still visualize it. The girls were giggling away and the boys, laughing their hearts out. Everyone had a hand in pumping the petrol out, with our bare hands. (There was no power supply, remember?) We were all so fascinated, the children especially, with the transparent pinkish like thing trickling down the side into the tanks of our well used convertibles…..Surely, it was an experience to be treasured…..always and forever…