FIRST EXPERIENCE
The weather was cold and breezing. The mist and the cars spotlights obscured our views from seeing everything outside. My father drove his car in the capacity matching the surroundings. We wouldn’t want to strand ourselves in Gerik where no one even a stranger can be found. We were glad that we had arrived here in the early morning. My father had precisely made his estimation. As an ex-army, he would always make the right decisions. Though, he often argues, being strict and suspicious, however I have a high respect for his reputation and charisma.
Everyone cheered when we finally reached Kota Bharu. My father booked a room at a 2 star hotel. Unfortunately, I couldn’t recalled the name of the hotel. Nothing much to view but after a long journey, it was just the right place to stretch our legs and refreshed our bodies. The next thing was the most enjoyable part whereby my mom and my 4 beloved younger brothers and sisters went out to enjoy and exploring the town. I hardly remember the locations. If I could make a guess, they were Pasar Siti Khadijah, Pasar Buluh Kubu and Pantai Cahaya Bulan (as they are known today), the three famous destinations we had spotted.
Frankly speaking, it was truly a historical day of my life, stepping my feet in Kelantan. I had never thought and dreamt to be here. Though, I had been to Bangkok and Haadyai (I deemed those as lands of culture and mystical) with my parents when I was 13 years old for holidays, it was still not the same feeling to be shared with everyone as I’ve experienced in Kelantan. The people, the flora and fauna, the air, the small huts and houses, the schools, the food, the medium cost of living environment, the girls and boys here were least similar to those found in my hometown. There was something about Kelantan that share the same traits as Bangkok and Haadyai.
My father seemed to be so proud trying few Kelantenese dialects with some local people. My mom and I smiled when those people indicated signs of they couldn’t understand my father’s awkward dialects. Like every women, my mom bought a few large bundles of kain batik and some silverwares like the ‘bekas par’, ‘tepak sirih’ and ‘bekas lilin’.
Funny, the purchases were usually made specially for wedding ceremonies. I questioned myself, ‘who is getting married?’ ‘Kakaklah!’ my father spontaneously joked at me. The answer was as sharp as the arrow straight pointed from the bow aiming at my heart. Today, I believed because of those ‘blessed’ words of his, has touched my instincts to choose a man to share the happiness and sadness together, with principles and visions in his life. It all started from this town.
To be continued
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