Hanging with the locals

By my third night in Cherating, I had finally started to get accustomed to "Cherating time". At home, I usually go to bed around 10 PM. That's when Cherating starts to really wake up. So around 9:30, I headed over to the beach bar only to find that it was pretty dead. I guess I was still ahead of Cherating time. At the beach bar, I found the owner and about 5 local men sitting around a table. The owner, Pablo, got up and gave me his seat. I had a fun conversation with them. One of the guys was the flame-twirler from the night before, one was Dean who I had met the night before, and then there was an old man with a young kid and a guy about my age who I didn't know. The night before, Dean had told me that a bridge had collapsed in the US, but he didn't know which one or the cause. I had of course immediately jumped to the conclusion that it was the Bay Bridge but then realized my phone would have been ringing incessantly with my mother eagerly pacing on the other end so she could be the first to tell me. Since my phone had not made a peep, I knew it wasn't the Bay Bridge at least. Back to Minum and my companions... Dean said he had seen the bridge collapse on the news again, but the power went out before they said where it was. Oh, I forgot to mention that the power in half of the town had gone out during dinner. The whole restaurant ate by candlelight. Citronella candles, of course.

Then the conversation really got going. Dean asked me what I was thinking when I decided to come to a Muslim country, and "what your daddy say when you say you go to Muslim country?"

I laughed at his questions. He didn't mean it the way it came out which he explained to me. He was just curious about my feelings about going there and being there as an American. This, of course, led to a profoundly deep conversation about religion, extremists, acceptance, and ignorance. We discovered, not surprisingly, that we agreed on and understood the difference between religion and extremism.

This conversation led to Dean jokingly telling me his insane theory of 9/11. At this point Dean was a little buzzed and my retelling of his story may sound as though he did not understand or respect the seriousness of 9/11. He did understand the tragedy of the attacks. And I must admit, I had to laugh at his crazy tale. He told me that Osama's daddy and Bush's daddy were friends and did business together so Osama and Bush grew up together. Then he tells me that one day Osama and Bush were sitting around getting drunk, and Bush said things were just too damn boring in the world. So his crazy buddy, bin Laden, thought of this plan to bring more "excitement" to the world, but Bush didn't know about it. The whole time he was laughing like it was the funniest thing he had ever heard. Needless to say, he was a little drunk.
While I was enjoying the conversation, I really wanted to sit at the low table closest to the water, taking full advantage of the breeze off the water. Pablo rolled a mat out for me, and I moved over to the table. My river guide and friend, Nazri, came over to keep me company, but had to leave shortly afterward.  I sat alone at the table enjoying the weather and tranquility and flame twirler while people watching, listening to the 80\s music, and petting the stray cat who had befriended me.
Sitting alone at my table on the edge, that table was like my life.  On the edge of peace and tranquility on the side of the sea, and on the edge of partying locals and tourists on the other side.  Always on the edge of two opposites, wanting to belong completely to one side, but never being able to decide which.  That's the Gemini in me!
On this night, I chose the partying locals and tourists.  Behind me sat a large group of local guys.  You never saw local women out at night. Next to me was a tourist couple named Ruth and Callum from London.  This was their first night in Cherating, and they were great fun to chat with.  Ruth's first words to me were "Isn't this fab?"  She had won my heart with the word "fab"!  It was also fun to hear about their adventures. At one point, my buddy Dean brought me a big drink.  Now, this bar only served beer, soda, water, and juice.  This drink was not just soda as was evident from the pungent odor of liquor wafting from the cup across the table.  Simultaneously, Callum said he would kill for some whiskey.  Obviously, Callum had a magic genie with him and wasted one of his wishes on whiskey.  I handed my drink to my lucky friend who tasted it and proclaimed it to be whiskey and that somebody was trying to get me drunk.  I was happy to let Callum keep the drink.  But the source of the liquor interested us greatly.  Curiously, we looked over at the table chock full of local men, and they had a liquor store at their table!  You can apparently buy liquor at one of the islands and a bunch of guys had made a run to the island and brought back a party.  They aren't even supposed to be drinking!
Upon closer inspection, I notice two young boys, probably around 14, at the table.  One is passed out with his head on the table.  I found out later that he was the grandson of the owner of the Ranting Beach Resort where I had stayed my first two nights in town.  It was indeed, a small town.
Ruth and I joined the locals' table and chatted with them.  Ruth asked about what the Muslim women wear in Malaysia.  She mentioned she had seen a woman in Kuala Lumpur dressed in the full head-to-toe black and admitted she was rather intimidated.  Well, this caused our tipsy friend, Dean, to get sputter "That's Saudis.  It's not fair Saudis come here and scare people!"  He was not upset with Ruth, but he seemed quite unhappy with Saudi Arabians.  Then, Ruth asked if he was allowed to be drinking (I loved Ruth!  She asked all of the questions I was too afraid to ask).  At this, Dean sputtered something to the effect of "who's going to stop me?!  Ruth and I looked at each other and together said "Not us".
The conversation then turned towards me and the river cruise I had taken that day.  When asked if I enjoyed it, I responded that it was lovely and that I was slightly disappointed but greatly relieved that we did not see any anaconda.  This response was met with the entire table going silent as I stared at about ten confused faces.  Then one of those confused faces started to laugh as it told me there were no anaconda in the river.  Then ten confused faces turned into laughing faces as I'm sure mine turned a nice shade of cherry tomato red.  I was so embarrassed for falling for my river guide's horror story of man eating snakes, but in gauging this embarrassment with some of my other experiences on the trip, this was nothing.  I did feel bad for the poor German tourists though who I was sure would relate the harrowing tale of forging through the river in search of anaconda to someone in Germany who would in turn stare at them dumfounded while informing them that they are daft idiots because there are no anaconda in Malaysia!
And so the evening went late into the night.  The Dutch girls staying next to me showed up.  The guy from Santa Barbara staying across from me was there.  The turtle guide from a couple of nights before was there.  It was fun.  As the tipsy locals became the drunk locals, I became the most popular girl there.  The single American girl.  Everybody's got to be the belle of some ball...
Nazri, my lying river guide, insisted on walking me back to my hut which I appreciated.  He may have been a liar, but I knew he would get me back safely.  First, we walked over to the other bar, Care For Café, so I could see the puppies.  This time, instead of standing back and barking, the puppies came running up to me.  It was my heaven!  After playing with them for a few minutes, I said goodbye for good-knowing I would be leaving the next day.  It was kind of sad.
As promised, Nazri walked me back to my guest house, making certain I got back safely.  It had been a long, full day.  It had easily been one of the best days I had ever had.  I saw so many new things and made so many new friends.  I fell asleep feeling full.  My spirit was full.  And happy.