I pass by this little pond at least four times a day coming and going to the dive shop, as well as loads of monkeys in the mornings.  They filmed part of the film South Pacific on this island.

I never really wanted to go diving before.  I like snorkeling, but the thought of being deep under water, relying on a tank of air has never been too appealing to me.  It still isn’t.  But today I just finished my open water PADI dive course, making me a certified diver.  Even though I still don’t like many of the physical aspects of being underwater (changes in pressure, clearing ears, being reliant on compressed air, and it can get a bit cold), what I do like is the view.  As usual, the credit goes to Matt for convincing me to go to new heights, er depths.  He convinced me that diving is far superior to snorkeling.  I can’t say that I’ve really experienced the “superiority factor” with diving yet, but it is pretty cool to be able to go up to things that I normally wouldn’t while snorkeling.  Surfacing after the dive is really awesome too.  I didn’t realize how much light gets filtered out by the water until during the ascent; swimming upwards, I tilted my head back and watched as the deep blue ceiling above me became brighter and brighter until I saw the clearness of the surface and broke through.

 

One of my highlights from my first dive was this little guy, a nudibranch.  Magnificent Chromodoris to be exact.  The other highlight was getting to dive with Matt on my last two dives, AND successfully completing my mask removal drill…:)

 

So Joylani’s been doing her PADI Open Water course, which leaves me with not a whole lot to do. Our first day on Pulau Tioman, I walked about 2 miles south to Tekek, the largest town on the island. It did have a road, which is more than the paved path where we’re staying in Air Batang. It also had a couple stores and an airstrip, which can serve the daily 12-passenger planes that fly from the Peninsula.

beach outside out hotel

some of the orange honey coconuts found around the island

So for the duration of yesterday and today, I’ve just chilled out. Mostly read my GMAT book and practice math, which may sound wearisome. But studying on our balcony, steps away from the beach is more relaxing than most other places I can think of studying. Watching the monkeys and monitor lizards provide some entertainment when I need a break, as does a walk a few meters to the beach where I can cool off in the water. This afternoon, I was laying in hammock at the beach thinking about how great this time is.

It is post election (many people travel to their home district to vote) as well as the middle of a big school break, and buses to our next destination are booked.  We were afraid we would have to wait a couple days or else take a longer route to try to get to Pulau Tioman, but fortunately ended up checking at the right travel agent to purchase a ticket.  It looks like any other Chinese shop/travel agent with a counter overflowing with candies, dried fruits, and cigarettes and a sign listing various bus routes hanging overhead.  Yesterday, the lady said she had only one seat left on the bus for tonight, but that she would see what she could do to get us another seat.  Not quite sure how that would happen, we decided to wait and see as this was our only option to leave tonight on a direct route to our next destination.  We checked back at the shop this morning, and sure enough she had gotten us two seats on tonight’s overnight bus.  She told us to come back at 9 to go to the bus station.  After another afternoon of killing time before our bus departed this evening, we picked up the bags from our guesthouse and walked to the shop around 9pm to catch a ride to the bus station, or so we thought.  “My Friend,” as Matt called the Chinese lady, walked with us out to the street and pointed to a corner and told us to wait.  We thought maybe she was pulling her car around, or possibly sending us to the station in a cab, as we watched her walk across the street to a taxi station.  She disappeared from our sight and we worried about getting to the station in time to catch our bus.  Finally, we saw “My Friend” again talking to a group of people across the street, and then another person here and there.  She started passing out tickets to a bunch of guys, Thai fishermen who had just returned from a quick trip across the border to renew their Malaysian visa.  She spoke with some other travelers and directed them to wait at the corner with us.  It became apparent that this woman was no ordinary travel agent hawking bus tickets.  Perhaps, we mused, she owns the bus?  Maybe this was how she was able to arrange an extra seat for us?  We enjoyed a quick chat with her about Malaysia and its various destinations as well as listened to her tell us about how she liked the shopping and cheap food in Hong Kong.  “My Friend” warned us like a good aunty to be careful in KL because it is a big city with crime…but seeing as I’ve worked in two cities myself, one particularly crime ridden, we weren’t too concerned by her warnings.  (Many people we’ve met in various countries living in smaller towns don’t usually like their respective country’s large [inevitably crime ridden”] capital city.)  The bus pulled up and our suspicions were confirmed when she stepped on board and began collecting tickets.  It’s not every day you get a chance to chat with the Don of the Bus. 

A couple days ago, I announced our visit home (this summer) and gave the approximate timing of our permanent return home (next summer). Today, I’ll share my anxiety and fear about returning home. Honestly, I don’t want to go home. Not this summer and not ever. Its not that I hate home or miss hanging out with our families and friends; I really like home and it was sad to leave all the good stuff behind when we left. But there’s two things that make me not want to go home.

One: I love travel. In our conversations with other travelers, it seems like most people fall into one of three categories. Some people do not like to travel. Personally, I cannot understand that attitude and try not to judge them for it. Some people like to travel and enjoy various aspects of it, but aren’t in love with it. Even if traveling long-term, they long to return home as they miss the people and different aspects of “home.” I’d say most travelers fall into this category, including Joylani. Then there’s the people like me, who I can really identify with. They love and live to travel. When they’re not traveling, they’re working to save for a trip and thinking about foreign (most inclusive definition) places constantly and their minds are always dreaming up destinations, trips, and journeys. They don’t prioritize the places they want to visit too much, because they’ll go anywhere and everywhere. The Americas, Africa, Europe, Asia, Oz/NZ, they all sound good and we’ll visit any of them because everywhere has something to see, something to experience, something to learn. Home to them, home to me, is not new. Its old. Its not foreign, its familiar. Its not different and learning takes more than simple observation. I don’t want to go home, not because I dislike it, but because its home.

Two: Whether you like home or not, its going to be a bit of shock after a trip like this. The other day, Joylani and I were talking about our itinerary and what places to see. And it occurred to us that even if we go home today, we’ve seen a ton. I cannot list out the awesome things we’ve seen and memories created. Thinking back of all we’ve seen and done blows me away. Browsing through our photos of the trip so far is unbelievable. I remember telling my siblings in Turkey that I felt like Ferris in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, especially when he shares his sediments with Cameron: “We’ve seen everything!” That was after only one month of travel. Now, after eight months, that feeling of “We’ve seen everything” is even stronger (to be taken as hyperbole, not literally as we’ve only seen a small fraction of the world, which in itself seems mind-blowing to me). Click here and see why it’ll be difficult to return home. Once or twice a week for the past eight months, we’ve seen or done something amazing. We’ve been on a tour of the world’s highlights- how can I go from seeing and experiencing the extraordinary every few days to the routine of home? I’m a little slow, but it just dawned on me that this is the best time I’ve ever had in my life. I fear that its going to be difficult to go through the monotony of home life, because I’ll always be wishing I was back in 2007-2009, living the best years of my life. I know that’s a pessimistic outlook for the rest of my life and neglects the possibility that there’s greater things out there for me, but this is just how I’m feeling now.

I don’t want this trip to end and I fear all that accompanies returning home. If anything can be gained from this though, it is: the knowledge that our time is limited will help me to value, appreciate, and be thankful for every moment of this adventure.

We’ve only been to two places in Malaysia and Joylani warns me not to make premature judgments about places, but Malaysia is already one of my favorite countries. Here’s my initial impressions of the place, and thus my rationale for ranking it so high:

This is a bit superficial, but my very first observation about the country was that everyone speaks English. It’s such a nice change after being largely unable to communicate in Thailand, Lao, and Cambodia, and its probably the best English we’ve heard on this trip after Scandinavia. Thank you Britain!

The culture is different from what we’ve seen recently. Unlike Hindu South Asia and Buddhist mainland SEA, Malaysia is a moderate Muslim state. Women cover their heads and dress conservatively, mosques and minarets adorn the horizon, their calls heard five times a day, and an arrow on each hotel room ceiling indicates the direction of Mecca. When I think about this feature of Malaysia, its no wonder I like Malaysia; for one reason or another, many of my favorite places on this trip have been largely Muslim: Turkey, Kashmir, Kerala, and the Maldives.

Malaysia is incredibly diverse. I read that Kota Bharu is actually one of only three Malaysia cities that have a Malay majority. The national demographics show that just under half of the population is Malay, about a quarter are Chinese, with Indians and native Orang Asli each composing about ten percent of the population. Reminds me of home. Its also good for us, because Joylani gets mistaken as a Chinese, and I as a Malay.

The food is great. With such a diverse population, what else could one expect?

The people are really helpful and nice. Questions are usually given a helpful detailed reply. Several people have gone out of their way to show us directions, as well. Although this may be a function of speaking a common language, Malaysians seem to always go to great effort to help.

Though I had been dreading the boat ride back to the peninsula, it turned out to be ok.  The boat for Bubu’s tours was getting set to go just as we walked back out on the pier.  Fortunately this boat is much bigger than the more frequent speed boats that ferry passengers to and from the island.  This meant we went faster and more importantly that even though the water was rougher (there were white caps today), the ride was WAY smoother.  As we were a bit higher up on the water, the view of the swells was pretty awesome from the higher vantage point.  More than the corregated wave shape I thought the water had before, it was twisting and rising in all different ways, wrapping itself around our boat as we plowed through the waves.  I realized just how huge the volume of undulating water is and saw its shape as more irregular than what seemed before to just be a series of bumps.

We whisked ourselves away to la la island land so quickly after arriving in Malaysia that we never had a chance to get an idea of the general standard for pricing of things like food and beverages.  Upon our re-arrival in Kota Bharu, we realized how much above normal prices we’ve been paying for food the last few days in Perhention.  For lunch after getting back to the mainland we got a little hotdog on a burger bun and a mango juice—1.5 ringit each.  Definitely cheaper than on the Perhentian where food costs 3-5 times as much.  Granted, food stuffs do have to be transported over to the island, which is no easy feat as I’ve mentioned in previous posts.

Back in a real town, we’ve been working on getting a bus ticket out of here to our next destination as well as making plans for one of our most anticipated destinations, Malaysian Borneo where we will go diving in the reef around the famed Sipidan Island.  Since it is a protected park area, we need to make a reservation with a dive shop ahead of time in order to secure our permits.  Only a limited number of spots are available each day, and we’d forgotten about cross checking our travel dates for holidays (since things can get really booked).  Falling into the whirl of our travel vortex where time and dates get all fuzzy, we forgot about Easter holiday and spring break.  Fortunately we found one place with spots still open, as everyone seems to be pretty booked out there.  I think it’s a good reminder for us (to check for holidays) since as our trip has progressed we’ve had to plan more ahead in terms of specific dates and destinations as flights and specific visa windows are arising more frequently.

 

To break up the monotony of our posts, I thought I’d throw in an update on our macro itinerary. This is mainly aimed at you family, but also may be of use to our friends who’s instant messages begin with “where are you?” or emails that end with, “btw, what country are you in?”