A trip to Kedah opens Loong Wai Ting’s eyes to the rebirth of enterprise after the tsunami of 2004, and the historical Bujang Valley
“WHAT, we’re visiting an oyster farm in Kedah?” I ask my tour leader AJ, a genial and chatty fellow whose knowledge of Kedah is so extensive that we call him a walking Wikipedia.
Grinning from ear to ear, AJ winks at me before ushering me onto his “catamaran” (it’s just a small boat, really) at the Semeling Jetty in the quiet town of Merbok in Sungai Petani, Kedah.
Part of me is sceptical about his “claim” but I’m curious to see the farm for myself. The small-ish farm known as Bakau Hijau is located by the riverbank of Sungai Batu Besi in Sungai Merbok, a 45km-long river that separates Sungai Petani on the south and Yan on the north.
Together with the rest of the media entourage and representatives from the Tourism Malaysia office, we are all set to explore this northern state of Peninsular Malaysia known for its rolling hills and greenery as well as its vast paddy fields.
Our 4D/3N, which is under the Expresi Media Lembah Bujang, takes us through numerous important locations along the Bujang Valley such as the historical site of Sungai Batu, where evidence of early human settlements can be found; the Candi Batu Pahat, an important ritual spot in ancient times; and an eye-opening stay at the Kampung Raga Homestay.
SEEING IS BELIEVING
I enjoy the view of the river as the boat cuts through the emerald green waters. On both sides of the river are mangrove forests that protect the shorelines from damaging storms and flood. Not only that, the mangrove forest also helps prevent erosion on the bank by stabilising the sediments with their long roots.
In a little over five minutes, we arrive at the farm. Since little is known about it, there aren’t many tourists around; only a couple have found their way to the farm through localised tour packages.
Wooden planks provide the only walkable paths around the farm. We are told to take off our shoes and leave them by the rack near where our boat is docked. Here, I meet with Syadzwan Nasruddin, one of the keepers of the farm, who shows us around the farm and oyster culturing in Malaysia.
The farm is separated into two parts — there’s the oyster nursery, where baby oysters (they’re smaller than a 10 sen coin) are tended to with special care. And in baskets, oysters the size of a 50 sen coin are kept until they’re fully mature (about 10cm long).
While oyster culturing is still in its infancy stage in Malaysia, many local oyster culturists propagate the briny mollusc for its pearl. Only a handful like Syadzwan farm the oysters for their meat.
I get to taste the tropical oyster which is commonly served raw in restaurants.
FRESH OYSTERS
When the heat from the afternoon sun becomes unbearable and the wooden planks too hot to walk on, I move inside a hut where a worker is shucking some oysters using a French oyster knife. A woman is standing beside him, busy concocting a special combination of onion, garlic, chilli and soya sauce, to be eaten with the oysters.
I watch in amazement as the young man skilfully removes excess sediments from the oyster before poking his sharp knife between the shell to get to the meat. With a twist, the shell cracks open with a soft scraping sound. He then drains the excess water from the oyster and removes dirt during the shucking process. With a smile, he passes the oyster to me.
There are many “correct” ways to eat raw oysters. Some people love dousing it with tobasco sauce or other homemade condiments. As for me, I love mine raw with a squeeze of lemon juice. But before that, I take a sip of the oyster juice from the shell, tasting the saltiness of the river water. I then take a piece of lemon and squeeze its juice onto the meaty oyster before slurping it down. I love the crunchy texture of the oysters and their clean and sweet aftertaste.
But that sweet oyster does not prepare me for what’s waiting at our next stop, which is only 30 minutes away.
PAK ISMAIL’S STORY
Although it has been 15 years since the devastating 2004 tsunami, Pak Ismail, who was 58 years old at that time, is still able to recall the scene with clarity. He was at a kenduri (feast) with his family when the waves hit.
“There was madness everywhere. People were screaming, the houses, the fishing boats and everything in its path were destroyed in the blink of an eye. Even after all these years, I can still remember what happened and realise how lucky I am,” he says, with sorrow in his voice.
The first wave, measuring about 2.5 metres high, smashed into Kuala Muda beach at 1.15pm. Dumbfounded, the villagers just stood and watched. The second wave, which measured about 8m high, wiped off the entire village, damaging more than 400 homes in its wake. Families from a total of 477 houses had to be evacuated. Eleven people in Kedah lost their lives; nine of those were from Kota Kuala Muda.
Pak Ismail was one of the few lucky ones to walk away unscathed.
As I walk along the shoreline, I try to imagine that fateful day and how people, who were enjoying themselves one minute, were gone the next. I come across the Kota Kuala Muda Tsunami Memorial, which was erected soon after the incident in memory of those who had lost their lives.
The memorial is a museum of sorts; it sits next to a row of damaged houses which serve as a reminder of that incident. Known as Galeri Tsunami, the memorial which is located in a single-storey house, is packed with information about the tsunami and photos taken around the villages.
Some of the photos are very disturbing and sends chills down my spine. Leaving the Galeri Tsunami behind, I walk among the ruined houses that once provided shelter for families. Remnants of the destruction can still be seen — the toppled walls, cracked tiles. Choosing a clean spot, I sit down on the floor and close my eyes for a second. It’s hard to imagine what the villagers would have gone through.
Like the rest of the surviving villagers here, Pak Ismail has since rebuilt his life. “It’s hard to let go but we need to continue living. Every day we take one step at a time,” he says.
With a nudge, he invites me to walk with him to a nearby warung, famed for its lip-smacking mee udang. It’s comfort food you shouldn’t miss whenever you are in Kota Kuala Muda.
The warung faces the sea. In the far left corner is Tanjung Bungah in Penang, a long stretch of sandy beach popular among holidaymakers. Within minutes of sitting down, a worker comes over to take our order. Service is prompt and our order arrives in less than 10 minutes. A popular dish during tea in the northern state, this Malay-style prawn noodle is sweet with a spicy reddish-brown broth. The soup is bursting with flavour. It has a pleasant prawn taste, and is thickened with cornstarch. Freshly-cut chilli is sprinkled on top of the huge prawns, yielding a slightly sweet taste. There are also chopped coriander, fried shallots and a slice of lime to enhance the flavour.
As I take pictures of my mee udang, Pak Ismail wolfs down his meal. By the time I am ready to tuck into the delicious meal, he is ready to leave. After bidding each other goodbye, I return to my table to enjoy my humble plate of mee udang while enjoying the lull of the ocean.
BUJANG VALLEY
After a well-rested night at a hotel in Sungai Petani, we head out to the renowned Lembah Bujang Archaeological Museum in Merbok, about 30 minutes’ drive through a small town and lush paddy fields. Surrounded by lush greenery, the museum is located on the slopes of Gunung Jerai, one of the highest peaks in Kedah. An isolated body of rock (limestone), it is said that Gunung Jerai was once an island known as Pulau Serai.
Given its closeness to the coast, historians suggest that the “hill” was a landmark for ancient sailors and traders from distant lands, from the 5th to the 16th centuries, when they sailed into the river mouth of Sungai Merbok to Bujang Valley.
During that time, early settlements began to form in the area and it was home to one of the earliest Hindu-Buddhist civilisations in this region. Evidence of early settlements can be found along the Bujang Valley up to the area along Sungai Batu Besi in the south.
In Sungai Batu Besi and deep in the oil palm plantation, we come across a group of students, scientists and archaeologists from a local university going over a carefully marked plot of land. Beneath the pile of red earth is evidence of early settlers. Among the findings are tin ore, which was processed in large quantities before it was exported to the world.
I can hardly contain my excitement as I walk into the museum to learn more about the early settlers, their lifestyles and the special temple they built to make offerings to the deities that were said to be residing in Gunung Jerai.
Bujang Valley continues to serve as an important trading port and cultural exchange post. Over at the Bujang River, archaeologists have found Buddhist images, several gold rings and coloured glass beads as well as iron nails.
My exploration soon takes me outside, where the famous Candi Bukit Batu Pahat was first discovered by locals while clearing the forested areas near their homes to plant crops. Prior to this, my closest encounter with the mysterious temple was through books and pictures on the Internet.
Standing in front of the large complex, I take in the magnificent monument. It is eerily quiet, save for the rustle of leaves from the jungle that surround the ancient temple. But before my imagination can get the better of me, I retrace my steps back to the museum to meet up with the rest of my group.
Pictures by Loong Wai Ting and Zunnur Al Shafiq/NSTP