Monday, May 26, 2008

New Horizons

One month ago I left Mae Sot, I left the house of my Burmese friends, my brothers and sisters, and travelled non-stop to the south to cross into Malaysia on the day my visa expired. I arrived in Buttersworth where a man gave me two options: a train to Kuala Lumpur or a ferry to Penang. The latter brought me to Georgetown, the capital of the Island. I was back on the road without the daily delicious fresh Burmese food, the talks with my friends and their Burmese songs I so much loved. Four months had been about Burma and suddenly I found myself roaming through a totally new environment. Loud Indian music accompanied my stroll along the colorful sari shops and food stalls. Calls from the mosque, the strong smell of incense at the beautiful old Chinese temples and the Indians in their own unique clothes welcomed me in this peaceful multicultural country. I knew that also this time route indicators would become visible and along the way this country will show itself to me. I would leave again with a hunger to know more, with addresses and memories.

I stayed a few days in Georgetown before heading to a small fisherman village where I met Ahwy Lim, a Chinese-Malay in his forties. I spent 6 days on the fish farm his younger brother Amin rebuild after the Tsunami destroyed most of it in December 2004. It was my first time to see the remnants of this storm and to talk to its victims. It was exactly when cyclone Nargis hit Burma. Sai, 24 from Rangoon, lives also on the fish farm, earning money for his family in Burma with the water sport facilities Amin runs on Monkey beach. He has been hiding from the police both under the fish farm and in the jungle behind the beach. He left his family in 2005, speaks fluent Malay, plans to apply for a passport, to officially exchange his Buddhist believes to become a Muslim and marry a local girl he fell in love with. Or going back! His heart is torn. Only 5 days after the devastating storm he was able to contact his sister. Sai became part of the family Lim, just like me during that week. We would visit father Lim at his house near the harbour, 5 minutes by boat from our floating fish farm, who cooked for us the most delicious fish I have ever eaten. Also Ahwy has friends in Burma, in the northern Shan state. His Chinese-Malay friend runs a rubber plantation after he quit dealing in opium and amphetamines. Ahwy spent 7 years in jail and miraculously was not executed like his friends. Counselors have brought him from a very destructive and wrong path to who he is today, a kind man who knows and values life. We became good friends and talked for hours. He builds houses and refuses new offers of his mafia bosses. I woke up every morning witnessing amazing sunrises from my hammock on the fish farm, during the days I reflected. I was welcome to stay as long as I wanted but an Estonian friend in Singapore awaited me.

It’s late in the evening when I buy samosa ‘at the corner’ back in Georgetown; “Where do you come from? How old are you? What do you do tomorrow?” In Asia you get used to these questions, I answer with my usual: “No plans”. “Do you want to go for dinner tomorrow?” “Fine”. I met Kamal the next day at 20.00 ‘at the corner’. He takes me for Tandoori Chicken but doesn’t eat himself. Kamal is a skater who used to attend world competitions, he sells his fantasy drawings for local media and has just written a 400 pages thesis to get his master degree in sociology. A diploma that will give him a better position at the United Overseas Bank where he worked after his bachelor studies in business administration. His interest in politics and sociology on the other hand led to a meeting via his uncle to talk about a position as a university lecturer. Kamal had lost his girlfriend when he went for drinks on the Batak Ferringi beach. This was on December 26th in 2004. Another evening I ran into Kamal’s friends Darsh and Fadzil ‘at the corner’. We talk about religion, values, life and dreams. Darsh shows me the jewelry stall he runs every evening with a friend in front of the old Indian theatre. Many Asians make their living with many small things but Malaysia also has its shiny shopping centers, big roads and modern buildings which surprise me a lot. I went to the movies, which felt like home, found a Body Shop and realized I also finally had entered a space where our alphabet is used.

On the morning I set of for Singapore I meet Matt ‘at the corner’. Matt is Australian and we had spent some time together in February in Mae Sot. I delay my departure and we set off for a tour around the Island. We investigate the World War from Malaysian perspective at a museum and enjoy the tropical nature. Funny little world, “See you in Australia”, I shout.

Even after the theatre of wealth I saw in Penang I could not help it and stared at Singapore, its buildings, people, shops and attitudes. Annika, my Estonian friend who lives in this city state, and I talked and talked until we suddenly left for Sumatra, another new world, with new people, stories and views along the roads. We entered into the world of a group of young guys whose lives turn around lake Toba, fish, deep family roots, few tourists, frustrations, palm wine and dreams of Bali and education. Pung found us at the harbour in Parapat and brought us to Juan’s guesthouse. We were the only and first guests. Another place that was hard to leave.

With the help of Mardinal, an old man from the tourist information at Medan airport, I reached Banda Aceh where I met Lieselotte and Guido from the Netherlands. I know Lieselotte from a training on development in Prague in September 2005. Many things I hear, read or see I relate to Burma. I am interested in learning about the special autonomy Aceh got after the conflict ended with the tsunami and about Indonesia’s transition to democracy. At the same time news from my Burmese friends in jail and others hiding in the jungle, the suffering of the cyclone victims and the result of the referendum make me feel … I don’t know how to describe it. I am curious what Indonesia will show me more. My visa expires on the 15th of June. Yesterday for example we drank beer from a can that was covered with a coca cola can. I am in an extreme Islamic place under the rule of the sharia law, the locals however are not so fanatic as Jakarta told them to be.

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