An unknown world beyond the watery, glittering horizon gradually dragged down the flaming orange orb. As it was sinking, its warm ray blended into the cool sky. Sparkling tides bravely threw themselves into the embrace of the shore, hitting wave upon wave of pointy rocks. To fishermen it was a call to go home, to seagulls an end of today’s adventure, to street cats a reminder of the leftover feast in nearby outdoor restaurants, to me a chance to be intoxicated by the beauty of Tioman Island.
The experience of living in China, US, and Singapore had made me a typical city girl, constantly surrounded by neon lights and pop music. I didn’t even remember the last time I saw beaches with my own eyes. When schoolwork caught up to me, releasing my spirit in nature became some kind of treasure, even though I lived only fifteen minutes away from the north coast of Singapore and could trace the skyline of Johor, Malaysia from the top of my apartment building. Chinese New Year finally gave me a break from being suffocated in the concrete jungle. Like fellow Singaporeans, my dad and I picked Malaysia as our escape. Among the nine islands in the state of Pahang, Tioman Island stood out to us as the biggest one (Salleh et al. p. 173)–although not that big in my definition.
I indulged my brain with the scenery of the island 69 kilometers from the Malaysian city that I saw countless times from Singapore (Pradhan & Suleiman, 71). Palau Tioman, or Tioman Island, captured my heart at once. It was often told by the locals that Tioman Island was founded when a dragon princess from the South China Sea decided to take her final rest here. It wouldn’t be surprising that Tioman’s beauty appealed to the princess. Its landscape was “filled with rolling hills and mountain peaks, sandy beaches and rocky cliffs.” (Salleh et al, p. 173) As the sun was setting, seagulls chanted in unison against the shadow of ships and rocks. The 69-kilometer-long beachline (Salleh et al. p. 173) was traced in rich orange-gold.
Sunsets in Malaysia were not just a sight. They were mixed with the itchiness of the sand in my toes, the smell of seafood at the grill, and the music of coconut trees waving their leaves. Sitting by the sea with a gentle breeze soothingly combing my hair, I shifted the focus from the twilight to the plate of freshly cooked fish in front of me. The overwhelming aroma had my stomach groaning in desperation. The meal was interrupted by some furry thing at my feet. Glancing down, I found a wild cat walking back and forth under my table, meowing and meeting my gaze. Its striped brown coat brushed my bare calves. I picked up the chopsticks and hesitantly dropped a piece of fish. The brown figure dashed towards the meal at once while its twin brother appeared. The two furry balls hissed at each other. As the last ray of sunlight was consumed by the ocean, night crept in. Two boney shadows entwined in the blood-red lantern light. Their hair sticking out like hedgehogs, their lips pulling back, their teeth reflecting fierce.
I looked up at the now sapphire-blue sky. The shy waxing crescent moon decided to play hide-and-seek and only revealed its blurry face from the clouds once in a while. Disappointingly, it was not as big or bright as google images had shown. Down at my feet, one of the cat brothers barely managed to drag himself out of the battlefield, while the other smuggled the fish away in triumph.
At my chest level, the oil-glazed fish remained untouched except the bit that I doled out to the beach cat. It took me several tries to pick up a big piece of the slippery fish meat and threw it in my longing mouth.. As if melting at the tip of my tongue, the fish made my mouth water even more. I couldn’t help but chew it for a bit longer than usual, just to extract more of the taste of Malaysia.
As the night darkened, chillness kicked in. In a place that I would expect to have an average temperature above 90 degrees Fahrenheit, there was instead shivering winds. Stars began to blink their eyes. Ferries that carried tourists three times a day went out of sight. Soon enough, the borderless body of water that was supposed to connect the Gulf of Thailand and Java Sea transformed into some dark, wavy void, dark enough to make me believe that it sucked all the ferries in its endless nightmare.
“Night time sharpens / Heightens each sensation / Darkness stirs / And wakes imagination…” I found myself humming the heart-weeping song from The Phantom of the Opera.
“Be careful of beach boys,” my dad joked at me. “Totally. This is life.” I flipped my hair in a cool way. Tourists like I had been were not uncommon in Malaysia. In fact, it was the tourism industry that helped boost the country’s economy. While rapidly expanding tourism became the main support of rural communities, Tioman Island’s relatively low commercial development, compared to that of other countries, allowed me to have a fuller exploration of the nature. It wasn’t until later that I learned that nature punished some of its insolent tourists by slashing them with an outbreak of an acute muscular Sarcocystis-like illness (Esposito, D.H et al. 2012).
Without Internet, cars, or even streetlights at Paya Paradise Resort, the small island standing at 39 km long and 12 km wide peppered with 3,314 residents (Hanafiah, Jamaluddin & Zulkifly, p. 794) reminded me what it was like to be a human in the first place—dirtying my hand in the humid jungle and sinking my feet in the not-so-fine sand. The artificial light from lanterns somehow seemed to be battling some invisible yet invincible force. It was trying to broaden its view by staring at the far sea, but the fiery glare was immediately swallowed.
A lost seagull flew by and took a rest on the restaurant kitchen’s roof, shaking the glowing lantern beneath it. It impatiently smoothed its seawater-splattered feather with its beak. Its anxious cry sounded as though it were belching out some solid despair. I took another bite of the fish and pretended not to notice. Minutes later, after finding itself ignored, the bird continued its journey, disappearing into the blackened jungle. I secretly hoped the sharpness of the night would not pierce this innocent creature.
When the last piece of fish went down my throat, I leaned against the back of the chair and fixed my gaze to the night sky again. The murky canvas covered the entire earth and only allowed us to have a sneak peak of the outside world by poking small, bright holes. Together with them, instead of showing the cotton-candy-like fluffy sweetness, the clouds filtered the moonlight, leaving only a frosty chill that attacked my skin like needles.
“First time in Malaysia. How do you like it here?” My dad nudged me as we were heading out of the restaurant.
“I admire it. The island. The nature. It’s not something you want to mess with. The fragile city light will never reach here through the thick darkness. Or maybe it will, but by that time, we have sadly forgotten ourselves.” Feeling like I was making a fool out of myself by speaking complete nonsense, I threw a last glance at the waters and changed the subject with a forced smile. “Well, my fish was pretty decent. How was your crab, dad?”
Winnie Gu
References
Esposito, D.H, Freedman, D,O, Neumayr, A & Parola, P (2012).
Ongoing outbreak of an acute muscular Sarcocystis-like illness among travellers returning from Tioman Island, Malaysia, 2011– 2012, Euro Surveill, 17(45). Feb 12, 2016. Hanafiah, M.H, Jamaluddin, M, R, Zulkifly, M.I (2013). Local
Community Attitude and Support towards Tourism Development in Tioman Island, Malaysia. Procedia – Social and Behavioral Sciences, 105, 792 – 800. Feb 9, 2016. Pradhan, B., & Suleiman, Z. (2009). Landcover mapping and spectral
analysis using multi-sensor satellite data fusion techniques: Case study in Tioman Island, Malaysia. Journal of Geomatics, 3(2), 71-78. February 7, 2016. Salleh, N.H.M, Othman, R, Sarmidi, T, Jaafar, A.H, & Norghani, B.M.N
(2012) Tourist satisfaction of the environmental quality for Tioman Island Marine Park, Indian Journal of Geo-Marine Services, Vol. 41 (2), 173-179. Feb 10, 2016.