My Trip to The East Coast - Touching bases. -1

  I have taken a break from posting my Blog for the last two weeks simply because...I took a trip to the East Coast to visit my siblings and friends there. I needed to take a break from routine here with my two children and the cats which have multiplied to six from one since I left. hence an added dimension to my existence which should prove challenging with my son Karim getting a scooter for himself, a gift from his boss and we will be getting new car soon when it is available in stock. We are buying a car that has run out of stock! Life's details! One as to run through each and every pot holes in order to get to the final destination and sometimes taking a tumble or two to wake up to the reality that one seeks but the journey never really ends until the curtain falls and the curtain will finally fall. 

Arriving at the Kuala Terengganu bus terminal after 7-8 hours trip from Georgetown I realized that I had RM15 in my wallet and I felt like I was truly on the road again like when I was in my younger days except in this town on the East Coast I have family and friends I can call upon. I grew up in this town sice I was twelve having moved from Penang which is on the West Coast to live with my immediate family for I was adopted an raised by my uncle and aunties since birth. I was a teenager when I first arrived in K.Tr and started my secondary education six mile from where the old town was sometime in 1962 The town now has changed no doubt some for the better while others well, what can  I say...development...progress...growth, and I am growing old.  Sparing the details I made my way north about an hour's drive to the small town Setiu where my sister is staying next door to her daughter to be close to her granddaughters both the houses were newly constructed and the owners perhaps lives or work somewhere else. Setiu is a flood prone area and it still is the monsoon season and so although the rainy season is relatively dry it started to rain a few days after my arrival and one day I had to use an optional road one day due to flooding.

I stayed with my nephew Mohammad Rafi and his family at their bakery home. I felt most welcome and at home with them especially my nephew's wife who was originally from Islamabad in India. She can cook and I was treated to her best dishes with the chappatis being my favorite. I mostly became an observer to a week of living with them feeling the hardships and the closeness of the siblings as they face the day to day routine of life. I have a tremendous respect and admiration for my nephew for having raised his family despite  both his legs are being infected by a gangrene type of flesh eating germ leaving an large open wound on both legs at the ankle and this has lasted for more than twenty years. There seem to be no cure for it and every night I watched him clean the wounds with chemical soap and water and wrap them up with gauze after the process. A very religious Muslim, his forehead is bruised darkened by the thousands of times touching his head to the prayer rug when in prostration. An avert reader he is well informed and can carry out conversations on practically any subject. Rafi is over fifty now and has six children and he inherited a bakery that was his father's and has handed it down to a few of his children. The eldest daughter is an architect and the second is on her way to becoming a lawyer. The eldest boy will most probably take over the bakery business when Rafi retires. The bakery has an odd name to it, it is called Kedai Roti Israil, or Israil'sBakery. Most customers wondered about it but Israil happened to be Rafi's Father's name and has nothing to do with the State of Israel.

 

Most of my friends I was able to catch up with were busy with their daily routine to afford me much attention and it was understandable so. I was able to drop by Pulau Duyong and pay my respect to my late friend's wife of Awi of Awi's Yellow House and had a short chat with Puan Rohani as she is locally known had a dentist appointment. Originally from France where upon arrival at Duyong sometime in 1971 she met and married my friend Awi, son of the village Imam, an uneducated kampung boy much feared by most for his fierce and aggressiveness. Christine Rohani Longuet as her French last name is had arrived in Duyong to build a sailing boat according to the local boat makers of  Duyong with the intention of sailing the boat round the globe. Upon completion of her first boat she set sail north east along the coast of the South China Sea, however the Vietnam War errupted and put a halt to her trip. She then returned to Duyong and m time married Awi or whose real name was Wan Othman the village imam's eldest son. Their relationship was fueled by the love for boats and sailing and the lure of local culture and environment. Puan Rohani is still working on the cultural history of Pulau Duyong and its  decadence over time when I met her, and she noted that change and development has just about torn the whole village fabric asunder. She has been instrumental in setting up the local library and the Duyong Cultural and Information Center among other activities and is still pursuing her interest and research in local horticulture of herbs and so forth. Now in her late 70s, Puan Rohani Longuet is still very much alive and active doing what she loves best about life, she is to me the living cultural historian of the Pulau Duyong and keeper of its maritime history especially in the local art of boat building.

The French Lady who left her home and family to take on the wild side of life in Pulau Duyong, Terengganu, where she spent the rest of her life dedicated to raising the environmental as well as cultural consciousness of the locals.

The Yellow House was a place of meeting of great minds, minds that came to rest and recuperate, miinds that sought the peace and quiet of a rustic beauty as only such place can afford.

Mrs. Mariam 

Mr. and Mrs Boyo, well I only know them by this name, were among the most frequent visitors to the Yellow House. 

My concern however is for the sorely needed of upgrading the Yellow House which is now left in a state of disrepair and it is a matter of time before the whole structure will collapse into the river that it is build upon. Awi's Yellow House is an iconic chalet setting that was built by its original owner to give the visitors a taste of what living on a river feels like. 

  The Yellow House was built on the bank of the Terengganu River located among the mangrove swamp. It was meant to be a rest house for boat builders and owners who came from all over the world and later turned into a quiet retreat for writers and musicians, back packers who seek the tranquility and quietude to replenish their creative spirit. The Yellow House was frequented by the more road hardened back packers and travelers who came from all over the world and sharing their wisdom and knowledge with the fellow kind at this rustic setting. 

My friend Awi was in his own way as charismatic as his wife and a very hard worker committed to what he did and the Yellow House was his pride and joy. Better known as Aboh among the kids, my two children included, Awi was what folklore heroes were made of for he could be meaner than the devil and loving and caring by nature depending on the circumstances. I was fortunate to be able to spend almost three years of my life hanging out with him at the Yellow House.