The village is interesting -- all built on piles driven into the swamp -- but so ugly it's a wonder anyone can bear to live here. If you're familiar with mangroves, you'll know that they are not themselves attractive either. But there is no traffic, except for the ubiquitous bike, and the island is slowpaced and tranquil, except for the televisions that most people are indoors watching, escaping the noon sun, which I am of course -- a mad dog or an Englishman -- out in.
There are lots of children here. It's quite striking, because in China, of course, children are disproportionately few. I pass a school, and it must be close to the end of its day, because a man is firing up an ice-cream machine on his forecourt.
I was thinking, how strange it must be to live in a place that really has no seasons -- bar the wet and dry (not that the dry is dry, because it rains a lot here) -- to be hot every day, never to feel cold -- and one supposes there are many people here who don't ever leave Malaysia -- or even perhaps this village (after all, there are people in Newent who have never been outside Gloucestershire). But of course it is not strange at all to the people here. They belong in this climate, and live a life that fits it. Thinking about that leads me to reflect on how fortunate it is to be rich (and we are rich, even if we have times when payday seems impossibly distant) and to have the opportunity to see other places, to indulge our curiosity. Sometimes I regret a little that I did not travel more when I was younger, but my life has taken the course it has because of who I am and how I am constituted, just as the old man who has never left 'Crab Island', his life has been shaped by who he is and where he fits.
Shrine, Pulau Ketam
Arriving at Pulau Ketam
Chinese house, Pulau Ketam
Idyll
Main drag, Pulau Ketam
Street, Pulau Ketam