Development through Traveling

I was 21 years old when did my first solo-backpacking to Malaysia. “No one is kind in this world, you can have the same hair color but you won’t know what’s inside the people heart,” that was my parents kept telling me before I left.

One day, I had to go back from Perhentian Island to Kuala Lumpur via Jerteh. It was 6 PM and I had to wait for the bus for 3 hours as scheduled. Alone at the quiet bus station was not a good sign, so I thought to find a ‘warong’ or food stall that is safe enough to eat and wait.

I walked around the block, most stalls were already closed with some guys sitting, playing card and drinking. Some places are too dark and some even leads to nowhere. I decided to go back to the front and finally found one ‘warong’ that seems good enough: it was in the open corner at the front-row stalls so I would be able to see when the bus coming.

I took one empty table and put my backpack on the chair. Unluckily, they’re run out of the drink I wanted to order. So I just asked to stay and wait till the bus coming. The owner are family – a husband, wife, and daughter –, asking me where I come from and start talking in Melayu since I told them I am from Indonesia.

We talked about many things, and when they asked me to write the menu. Though I was not satisfied with my work, they seemed very happy and keep it like it is written by a Santa. They then bought me some fried-banana which called ‘pisang goreng’ in my country, and we discussed how come it’s called ‘goreng pisang’ in Jerteh. They even invited me and my family to stay in their house for free when we come there again next time.

Simple conversations were rolling till the bus was finally coming. I shook and kissed their hands before I took off, as what children usually do to their parents to ask for blessing or to show respect. I actually never did this in my home country because it is usually done by Moslem family, but I don’t know why and how I could do this to them. I guess I just wanted to pay their kindness with this way. I could see them freezing for a while seeing what I was doing but I am sure they understand and their freezing is a good sign.

At the bus, I was looking outside: dark, cold, and scary, but my heart feels totally different. I found them as one proof that not everything my parents told me was true. Though preventive cautious actions are required, but there are still many nice people in this world. I guess I was still smiling when finally falling asleep in the bus.