Island Faces

Now, one year and some months down the road since we started our attempt to move to Langkawi, it almost seems as if we partially live there already.  So much so that we come back to KL with anecdotes of the people we've met, befriended and woven into our life memories.

Our first contact point on the island was our friend Aida. Someone we had only briefly known in KL through a mutual pal.  She moved to Langkawi a few months before my sister and I first went out there to investigate the inn for sale from the Classifieds.  Today she is a Langkawi resident and a naturalist by profession.  

A passionate environmentalist, I also suspect she's caught the bug and will someday look for her own plot of land on the island.  The more the merrier, I say. Plus, it's always nice to begin life in a new place where you already have a friend.

This is Pak Man, who someone once referred to as the Jinn Tanah, on account of his ability to broker land deals.  He was the first land broker we met in Langkawi.  A fiesty old fella, who doesn't hesitate to climb a hill just to check out the view from its best vantage point.  Thanks to him, several of our visits gave us decent workouts!  And be warned - often times I had to resort to makeshift hiking poles of deadwood while he skipped along ahead of us in his flip-flops.  He also introduced us to the famous Langkawi Ikan Bakar shop where the locals mostly go for their fix of Malay rice and fish grilled a la minute.

We first met Pak Man during the historical March 8, 2008 elections and he had plenty to say on the subject of politics.  If our leaders in their ivory towers think they can get away with hoodwinking the grassroots, I'd suggest they talk to him.  Maybe then they would realise that we Malaysians don't suffer fools gladly.

Although in later months we broadened our search to other land brokers, Pak Man unwittingly became a crucial factor in us securing our eventual plot of land - even though he didn't broker the deal.  Maybe it's the way things work in small communities like an island - everything revolves in concentric circles so that you often find that your new starting point is almost exactly where you began in the first place.

This lady is who I want to be when I grow up!  I believe she is already well into her seventies, but she is such a delight. 

We had arranged to meet her at the plot of land she wanted to sell - a good three-acres set among a vast expanse of paddy fields.  It's hard not to fall in love with the sight of paddy fields at harvest time.  Patch after endless patch of lively green stalks, heads bowed from the weight of rice ready for reaping, swaying like uncertain toddlers every time the breeze tousled their leaves.

The minute we met Makcik, I knew Anim would buy her plot of land if she had cash to spare.  The lady alighted from her ride - a noisy, little motorbike driven by her seemingly underaged grandson or grand nephew (one never knows the specifics) - with the agility of a teenager and the certainty of someone who intended to continue living for a long while yet - despite what the universe may have in store for her, thank you very much.

Later, we found out she was a well-recognised figure around Langkawi.  It turned out she actually had her own motorbike, and would have rode it to our meeting had it not been out of petrol.  Her only concession to modernity was to wear a helmet while riding.  But she didn't bother with a driving licence.  By her calculations, she was too old for the policemen to be stopping her for no reason.

Meeting Makcik made me a little melancholy.  Here was a local resident who had a valuable asset to sell and limited means to do so.  The reality is that a fair number of land deals on the island are being increasingly transacted with foreigners - most looking to retire on Langkawi or make it their holiday home.  But without the ability to converse with them in English, locals like Makcik are at the mercy of multiple land brokers whose layers sometimes can run up to five or six deep, leaving the land owner with a lot less once commissions had been paid.

I have heard that the situation in other more developed islands like Bali is very bad.  To the point where locals are harrassed by land brokers to give up their land for not-so-pretty pennies.  As a result, local Balinese are moving further and further inland, pushing them farther off from the economically lucrative tourist trade.

I hope this doesn't happen in our own Langkawi.  The more I frequent the island, the more I see how we can stop what is happening in Bali and Phuket to Langkawi.  But it will take Malaysians with a conscience to exercise some self-discipline in ensuring that while we improve the commercial viability of the island, we also do it responsibly, with least negative impact on its residents - be they human or flora and fauna.

It's not someone else's job to preserve the gifts we have.  It's ours.