I have read three novels in the last five days, eaten Indian food twice, set two sparrows free, lost my guidebook and rode the ferry to a new island called Pulau Penang. While leaving Pulau Langkawi (one of the 104 islands that comprise the Langkawi group) I couldn't help but notice these islands appeared similar to the islands of the Pacific Northwest. If I didn't have a new Malaysian stamp in my passport I would have thought I was riding an express ferry in the San Juan Islands.
Due to the earlier sold-out boat to Penang, I arrived into Georgetown -the oldest British settlement in Malaysia- at night time. There was something different in the warm air as I stepped over the aquamarine water off the boat to the ferry dock. The taxi driver could not find the hotel I suggested, so I settled for the SD Guesthouse and enjoyed my first hot shower since Phuket.
The next morning, I began exploring Chinatown and searched for multiple restaurants that did not exist. I found myself at a busy intersection studying my map when a lady approached me and pointed across the street. "That is the oldest temple on Penang," she told me. "Enjoy your trip." I had seen the temple out of the corner of my eye but hadn't stopped to look. Buddhist monks on the street, temples and the spell of burning incense was becoming normal to me now. None-the-less, I wasn't going anywhere fast, so I crossed the street and sat outside the temple.
I witnessed many people offering up their prayers inside and outside the temple with burning incense sticks. A man appeared carrying three plastic bags and placed them on a table outside the temple. Immediately, eager people appeared out of nowhere and formed a line to the table. As the people reached the front of the line they were each handed a white box of food. Many people walked past me and offered their boxes. Some stopped to tell me to sit in the shade while another asked if I was waiting for my husband. The original man with the food approached me and offered a box. "Very good for you Miss," he told me. I declined his offer out of fear. Who knows what kind of mystery meat was contained inside that box?
When the free-for-all feeding crowd dispersed, I noticed a few vendors with bird cages. They were selling
Wishing Birds for only 3 Ringgits a piece. I approached one vendor to take a picture but couldn't turn down the
Wishing Birds waiting to be released. So I bought two sparrows after checking his credentials -
Wishing Birds: You will provide it with prosperity and freedom and it will provide you with happiness and luck. I thought my happiness and luck was certainly worth 6 Ringgits so I freed two sparrows from my shaky grip. Then I looked for my hand sanitizer.
Today after a leisurely morning of withdrawing Ringgits, ordering espresso, eating in Little India and finishing my latest novel, I returned to my hotel to send off a few updates - only to discover I didn't have my guidebook anymore. First I panicked - how will I ever find my way? Then I realized I knew lots of people that traveled without guidebooks (but I thought they were insane of course). Third - I just tried to let go... you know, go with the flow. Then finally I convinced myself to go back outside in the late afternoon heat because if there was ever a place where I would recover a lost guidebook... it would be in Asia. Four and a half hours had passed since I had been at the bank and I wearily returned to the ATM machine. There it was - my crumpled, ripped up, Malaysian section of my guidebook with my ATM receipt folded neatly on top.
Then I remembered what Asia has taught me to believe in - it was that good ol' humanity shining through again.
