{"id":4526,"date":"2012-07-08T23:14:19","date_gmt":"2012-07-08T16:14:19","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/durianapocalypse.net\/travel\/?p=4526"},"modified":"2012-07-09T06:43:53","modified_gmt":"2012-07-08T23:43:53","slug":"these-island-lives","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/durianapocalypse.net\/travel\/2012\/07\/08\/these-island-lives\/","title":{"rendered":"These Island Lives"},"content":{"rendered":"

[dc]G[\/dc]ot the bus, of the Friday AM, down to Balik Pulau and placed a call to my connection (name of \u201cLeong\u201d). He came to get me and took me back to his house to sign in.<\/p>\n

Quite one of the most entertaining characters I\u2019ve yet encountered. He was an odd duck — manic and distracted, always asking new questions and proposing new suggestions. His accent was difficult to decipher. Friendly yet gruff, he charged me more than I\u2019d been told he would, and then offered me a Durian. He gave me a bike to use \u2013 but I declined, as he hadn\u2019t a lock, and yet warned me that if it got stolen, I\u2019d be on the hook.<\/p>\n

Not only was his home not on a farm, but I wouldn\u2019t, turned out, be staying in his home. He bade me ride on the back of his moto with him; which I done: my first dance, since arriving to Asia, with the devil incarnate. No principles, mang.<\/p>\n

The home was an emptied-out duplex which, I\u2019m guessing, he\u2019s attempting to either rent or sell.<\/p>\n

\"homestay1\"<\/a><\/p>\n

\"homestay2\"<\/a><\/p>\n

About five minutes\u2019 walk from the bus station, and with a decent enough view\u2026<\/p>\n

\"view\"<\/a><\/p>\n

\u2026I couldn\u2019t really complain. Had the place all to myself on this night; though there were two other rooms.<\/p>\n

Mr. Leong gave me his leave, and I hain\u2019t never seen him since. Me, I went to visit 808 Durian stall, \u2018cause it was then sporting a large number of guests. They\u2019re all numbered<\/em> in Balik Pulau, so\u2019s you can remember where you found the best ones.<\/p>\n

\"8081\"<\/a><\/p>\n

\u201cCan I help you?\u201d asked the Durian Porter skeptically. I think he thought I was lost.<\/p>\n

\u201cUhhh\u2026you got any Durian?\u201d<\/p>\n

Everybody in the place laughed at my little joke, and I took a seat. I told the porter to bring me a good one, and ended up with a wonderful Ling Phun Chao.<\/p>\n

Next, asked for a Capri, at which the Durian Master smiled wide and hurried over to his secondary pile to pick one out \u2013 the Porter now busily wiping off my table and delivering a bottle of cane juice. You ever wanna get a Penang Durian-seller to worship your dimpled ass, just begin ordering up the expensive varieties. Works every time.<\/p>\n

Alas, the Capri and the Ang Bak Kia which followed were each just okay. I think I ate my Durian in the incorrect order on this day. Live and learn.<\/p>\n

Here\u2019s the Durian Master\u2019s wife making Durian Cake.<\/p>\n

\"8082\"<\/a><\/p>\n

Now it was time to hike up into the hills. Past the largest Watermelons ever have I seen\u2026<\/p>\n

\"watermelons\"<\/a><\/p>\n

\u2026past the church\u2026<\/p>\n

\"church\"<\/a><\/p>\n

\u2026and up through the gorgeous scenery I trod.<\/p>\n

\"scenery\"<\/a><\/p>\n

It was a little one-lane paved path. Every minute or so, I had to grit my teeth and curse my own hypocrisy as I deferred to motorcycle after motorcycle. For it was these very same what were dutifully ferrying the freshly harvested Durian from farm to market. Why, here\u2019s one even now.<\/p>\n

\"harvest\"<\/a><\/p>\n

After hiking up in through for an hour or so, I stopped at a conveniently placed farmside bench to sit and enjoy the surroundings. And, not so far from me, I was privileged to witness my very first Durian-fall! Crack-a-lacked over to pick it up; but it looked not terribly healthy.<\/p>\n

When the farmer came down to harvest in the area, I showed him the fallen fruit. He concurred that it wasn\u2019t good, and tossed it aside. Phoo.<\/p>\n

On the way back down into town, dude tossed a Rambutan to me from the back of his ride (filled up with them).<\/p>\n

\"rambutan\"<\/a><\/p>\n

I sheepishly returned it to him, explaining that they\u2019re not my cup of tea. Tell you this much, though: those sons of bitches are everywhere<\/em>. It\u2019s been my experience both throughout Southeast Asia and on Hawaii The Big Island that Rambutan seem to grow in shocking abundance, and the season seems endless. In a future age (not so far distant, mind), when we\u2019ll be eating only what we\u2019ve managed to\u2019ve foraged, Rambutan may be the very staple.<\/p>\n

[dc]S[\/dc]o, Saturday, back in George Town, was kind of the showcase day of the month-long George Town Festival, putting upon stage the town\u2019s unique and special cultural heritage and blah blah.<\/p>\n

The afternoon was given to, like, kids\u2019 activities around town; as well as historical exhibitions, and food, and a few performances and whatnot.<\/p>\n

Here\u2019s a particularly good ditty from down Acheen Street. (Apologies, by the way, for having cut the clips so short \u2013 needed to save the battery\u2019s juice.)<\/p>\n

\n

\t\t\t\t