Malaysia Travel Guide

Letting the Sea Wash Away All Your Stress: This is paradise. Lying flat, arms outstretched across the surface of the water, I felt the rays of the sun warming my back and the cool ripples of salty sea beneath me. Through the clear water I could see the seabed at the bottom of the bay and all assortment of creatures swimming in and out of corals. My snorkel guide pointed in the shadows to the silhouette of a meter-long shark, too shy to approach.

Back near the beach, I stood in the shallows feeding bread crumbs to the smaller fish. Within minutes I was surrounded by a swarm of brilliant colors -- vivid Day-Glo flashes of saltwater fish; thousands of them, dozens of species, swirling around me and plucking bread from my fingertips.

On the beach, my friends and I lazed under the shade of a tree, digging our feet into the soft and powdery sand. One friend climbed a coconut palm and twisted a giant nut off its stem. Using a cleaver from the kitchen, we hacked it open and poured the coconut water over ice in a glass, then picked the sweet flesh from the inside the shell. After a day of this, I was ready to tear up my return ticket.

This kind of paradise is everywhere in Malaysia, and you can find it within an hour's flight from Kuala Lumpur (KL), if you visit Langkawi, Tioman, and Redang, or if you have more time, in Sabah.

Experiencing Kampung Hospitality: Pakcik (uncle) was just slightly older than his ancient Mercedes, but his price was right, so I hired him for the day to drive me around Kota Bharu. Sometime after lunch, during a stop at the kite-maker's house, I spotted a beautiful gasing, a wood-and-steel Malay top. It would be the perfect gift for my brother! I just had to have one.

Well, the kite-maker didn't want to give his up, but Pakcik had a few ideas. After coming up empty at the local shops, he took on my quest with personal conviction. Off we drove through the outskirts of town, the sights becoming increasingly rural. He turned down a dirt road, past grazing water buffaloes lazing near rice paddies. Soon the fields turned to jungle, and a small kampung (village) appeared in the trees. I watched out the window as we passed traditional wooden stilt houses where grannies fanned themselves on the porch watching the children chase chickens in the yard. Beside each house, colorful batik sarongs waved from clotheslines in the breeze.

The path wound to the house of Pakcik's nephew. I was welcomed inside with curiosity, perhaps the first foreigner to visit. They offered me a straw mat, which I used to join the others resting comfortably on the floor. Within minutes, an audience of neighbors gathered around, plucking fruits from the trees in the yard for me. I listened as Pakcik told them of my search for a gasing. That afternoon I was offered every gasing in the village.

My afternoon in Pakcik's kampung is one of my most cherished memories, and a most meaningful experience. As Southeast Asia becomes increasingly affluent and globalized, this way of life becomes steadily endangered. It's a lifestyle that for many urban Malaysians captures the spirit of the good life -- simple days when joy was free. And everyone will be proud to show you; all you need is an open heart and a big smile. Malaysian hospitality never ceases to amaze me.