Penang, 33 years later. (by FC)

I received disturbing news in early March about my mother and had to make a dash back to my home island of Penang. While the reason for my return after 33 years' absence was a very sad one, the experience of this trip was so profoundly wonderful that I am driven to share the trip with you.

Having been told so much negatives (horrible, chaotic traffic, dirty, no more beaches and others) about my Penang over the past years from friends who had visited the island that I wasn't really looking forward to the return. I have always only wanted to go one way – onward. I had never returned to where I'd been, not wanting to spoil the wonderful memories of those places (Leicester and London 10 years, a great month in Brussels, and 5 magical years in Fiji). After all, there's so much more of the world to experience.

I was met at the airport by my brother-in-law and the first amazement – half hour parking at the airport costs only 1 ringgit, approximately 35 cents! The one striking feature I found about Penang which I appreciate greatly is the relative absence of greed. And people smile with their eyes. There is much warmth which I felt instantly. The face of the Island had changed beyond recognition but the people had not.

It was near midnight but we had to make the compulsory stop at a hawker eating place, after which he dropped me off at the Catholic retreat centre in Tanjong Tokong a well-known Malay fishing village which has since been developed but where the fishermen still ply their trade. The village in the adjoining bay was destroyed in the Tsunami with some loss of life but the government had quickly rebuilt for the survivors who continue to fish in their traditional small brightly painted boats.

I was the sole occupant in the large 3-building retreat complex apart from the caretaker, his wife and a maid. The room is Spartan but very neat, clean and air conditioned. There is no TV, radio, telephone or maid service.. It is after all a retreat centre.

It sits right on a 200m stretch of beach. Although it is a public beach, the way the buildings have been put up has made it practically a private beach with a mid-size hotel at the other end. During the 2 days I was there, I saw only 3 other people on the beach exercising plus 2 fishermen pulling in prawns. The beach is not for swimming as there is a treacherous rip which almost took my own sister when we were very young. A brave fisherman swam out to bring her back. More recently, a priest on retreat had drowned there.

The view from my first floor balcony in the early morning is so very tranquil. The centre is definitely the perfect place to be in to reflect on the imminent passing of my sweet loving mother who was lying in the General Hospital after a heart attack.

I had spent 5 marvellous years in one of the world's finest resort hotels, The Fijian (now Shangri-la), living in a house just by the lakes of Hole #3 of the beautiful 9-hole golf course. I had all the great facilities at my disposal – golf, tennis, deep sea fishing, water-skiing, scuba-diving, and 5-star dining. But, for me, this retreat centre tops it. The spirituality of the place is almost palpable and I can easily get into a good meditative state that helps me think more clearly and see things in better perspective and reflect on my mother.

Although it is a mere 3 minutes' walk to the hustle and bustle of the main street and the market, its location in a cul-de-sac puts it in a totally different world of peace and quiet.

There is a short cut through a “slum” area to the market. Asked about where I could get breakfast, the maid pointed me to a path. Going through the very narrow path, I felt like I'm walking through people's living rooms and kitchens. These are very tightly built squashed up homes, but very well kept and clean with pot plants in abundance. There is no smell one usually conjures up in one's imagination about slums. The other end of the winding path brings me to the Chinese area with a Buddhist temple on the beach side. You would normally be able to get noodles etc. here but being General Election Day (every 5 years), a lady informed me that all Chinese stores are closed for the day but suggested that I could get very good Muslim food on the other side of the main road.

A wholesome experience here.

Crossing the main road seems to me a high risk event. There is no pedestrian crossing and, for sure, pedestrians do not have right of way. After briefly watching how others cross (quite effortlessly actually) I followed a couple across this six-lane road.

It was 8.30 in the morning and the place was quite busy though not overly crowded. Food stalls were doing brisk business. I was sorely tempted at the first stall on my left selling nasi lemak* wrapped up in traditional pyramid shape packets. Succumbed at the second selling roti chanai, a traditional Indian freshly fried pancake-like bread soaked in curry. Most customers buy take-aways at these stalls. So I asked if I could eat there. The seller broke up the bread on to the plastic take-away wrap which he then placed on a plate and poured a generous ladle of curry over it. He noticed me wondering where to sit and immediately took a page off a newspaper and, placing it over a large wooden box straddling an open drain** behind him, invited me to sit. Such is real service! And the food – just divine! Cost, 26 cents Australian!

Walking further on, there are stalls selling fresh fish and poultry – I mean really fresh. The 2 young fishermen I had earlier seen drawing up the prawns near the retreat centre, are now displaying their catch of fish, with their prawns in a big tub topped up with sea water. Lucky the people living there!

At the far end of the market, is a sit-in shop selling nasi lemak, this one selling freshly fried fish to go with it. Could I resist? 'Cos not!

What a wonderful way to start my re-acquaintance with my Island.

The horrible traffic that everyone is talking about? Well I arrived on the first day of school holidays and therefore am not able to give a true account. But from what I observed and from speaking with taxi drivers, there is a good system at work – Give Way. Few drivers indicate their intentions to turn or change lanes They simply drift in and out of lanes between the narrowest of gaps but amazingly, no swearing, one-finger salutes or horns. Drivers simply slow to let the other car in. I cannot see the possibility of road rage as everyone seems to take their time and are prepared to give way. It must be simply the nature of Penangites.

To put things in proper perspective, in Sydney, it takes me 20-25 minutes in the morning to drive the 6 km from my home to my workplace in Lilyfield while it takes only 15 minutes to cover the same distance along the busiest road (airport – city) to the city centre in the Penang rush hour (school holiday week).

Parking on the other hand is a major problem. But then, why should we drive when it is so easy and inexpensive to take the cab. I find the cabbies to be courteous and helpful and their names printed clearly on the cab doors. I keep the mobile numbers of two of them. So, day or night, one does not have to hail a cab but simply phone. Bookings are made directly with the drivers who also own their own vehicles.

Encounter with officialdom.

Because I had not been back for a full generation, my documents are up to 3 generations old. I had to get a new birth certificate, new identity card and new passport, hopefully all within 3 days. The efficiency, friendliness and helpfulness of all I encountered in these government departments is nothing short of breathtaking. They simply blew me away. For example, in the Identity Card Department, the receptionist, seeing I do not understand Malay, filled in two rather detailed forms for me. However the young officer in that department, Mr Zaki stands out. Hearing of my need to return to Sydney in a few days, he promised to try to get the new IC for me in 48 hours (normally up to a month). When he could not make it, he explained that it's taking 9 hours longer than he had estimated because they found that I had lived 10 years in the UK and had to get data from London. Considering the time zone difference, it is amazing that it took only 9 hours longer.

On the morning of the third day there was a notice in the IC Department apologising for a breakdown in the computer network and they were working off-line. As a result, at the passport office they were not able to verify me with the IC database. Apologetically, the officer in charge asked me to hand deliver a letter to the IC Department for verification. 15 minutes later I was back at the IC Dept and when Mr Zaki saw me he beckoned to me and said he already had the authentication letter ready for me as the Passport Office had taken the trouble to phone ahead to avoid any further delay!

Once back at the Passport Office, it took only a further 45 minutes to get my new passport, a new hi-tech book with built-in microchip. With this new type passports, we simply go through electronic gates at Malaysian airports.

The front line staff at these offices are very young and competent and I observed that they were extending full courtesy and assistance to all that they served. Mind you, these offices were very busy. Having seen and experienced the quality of these young helpful officers, I feel very comfortable about Penang's future. It is in good hands.

Green and clean

I am also impressed with the environmental awareness of the populace. The very old trees I knew and the the old tree-lined roads are still there as I remembered them from years back. The government is serious about trees with unauthorised felling attracting very hefty fines. Of the thousands of vehicles from motor bikes to trucks, I saw only two emitting smoke. The air is very clean thanks in no small measure to the constant sea breeze blowing across the small island. On the whole, the island is still very lush in spite of the growth in population and economic development.

A blast from the past

I was born at home in 10 Macalister Lane in the heart of old Georgetown where I spent my early childhood. My fondest memory of my Mum was at this house.
Late one afternoon after the usual afternoon downpour, I asked my brother-in-law to drive me to that address. We stopped right in front. It was still drizzling. It is indeed so good to see that not only is the house still there but the electricity substation where we used to sneak in to play 2 doors away and the surrounding area have remained practically unchanged.

There is a strong sense of conservation in the community with moves to conserve the whole of the inner city area with its pre-war homes, temples and “kongsi” (distinctive and beautifully crafted Chinese Clan Association buildings) and placing them on the Heritage List.

An old man peered at us from behind the locked door. I went up to him to explain why we were looking so intently at the house. After asking me a few questions, to most of which he provided the multiple choice of Yes or No (he is probably the world's worst interrogator!) he threw the door wide open and welcomed us most warmly into the house. allowing us full access through the whole house. He had lived there since 1965 and now lives alone.

The fact that he had almost no furniture to put his mark on the place made it even more nostalgic for me as I could see the “real” place as I knew it. And more incredibly, he had 3 pieces of my grandmother's furniture that I knew well!

Everything seemed much smaller than when I left the house as a ten year old. The banister I used to slide down seems so short now. The steps I used to jump from – measuring my progress from the bottom step to finally the sixth, seemed narrower.

Upstairs, I couldn't help shedding a tear as I see the spot where my parents' bed used to be and that was where one night, age maybe 2, I was itching all over my body so badly that I needed to escape my skin, I ran to her waking her. She picked me up, lay me down over her and stroked me while calming me with soothing words, In an instant all my discomfort miraculously disappeared. From that moment, her gentle comforting voice stayed with me all my life giving me strength even though I had lived thousands of miles away from her for most of my life.

This momentous week in Penang has given me real insight into why my Mum insisted on returning after a year in Sydney with my sister, brother and me. She simply wanted to be back on the island with a huge warm heart! She passed away peacefully in the company of a team of truly caring nurses at the General Hospital. We couldn't have planned it better for her.

Thanks Mum for bringing me back to Penang.

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Contrasting the old houses on Macalister Lane with the modern bank building right opposite on the main arterial road. The old Catholic church where I was an alter boy for a brief period (quit because I couldn't handle the Latin prayers) is next to the bank - obscured by the houses on the right. I remember my grandmother, a late convert to Catholicism, struggling to memorise her prayers and Catechism. She made it!

The upper section of the stairs I used to slide down and often climbed over the guard on the left to the floor below. I was about the age of my nephew (pictured here) when I was up to these tricks.

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* Nasi Lemak - rice cooked in coconut milk and flavoured with pandan leaves resulting in a rich smooth rice with a wonderful aroma. Served with hard boiled egg and curried anchovies.

** Open Drains. The idea of eating in close proximity to open drains, let alone sitting on top of one, may sound off-putting to us in Australia but open drains are a clever and essential system preventing floods. During the week I was there, it poured nearly every evening. When it pours it really does come down and lasts for between 15 minutes to an hour. The drenching will immediately make several of our Sydney roads totally impassable for hours. In Penang, hardly a puddle of water stays on the roads and the place is washed clean including the drains.

Retreat Centre. The centre is run by the Archdiocese of Penang. As I was so taken by the centre I visited the head office and spoke to the secretary regarding writing about the place in this magazine. She explained that because of the law, sensitivity and the legal structure of the centre, they would rather I not publicise the centre. It's primary function is for retreats and gatherings of priests and other religious orders. However they will accept genuine retreats privately organised by the laity but prudence dictates that it be restricted to Christians only. Email me if you need more information..