May 21-22, 2010: Friday & Saturday
I say my goodbye's to a few of the WIEF members and the Marketplace artists, and I'm off to the bus station with my parents. We are headed to Cameron Highlands, five hours northeast of KL.
In and out of sleep, my brain is numb, my heart is full, I need some space and solitude, but I have a feeling I won't be getting any in the next week or so . . . The ride is extremely windy and bumpy almost the whole way up, except for the beginning; it's really terrible actually, the bus's suspension is totally whack. The landscape is beautiful though, which makes up for it. Nearing Cameron Highlands we start getting glimpses of the fields of tea, the rolling hills and surrounding trees. It's raining by the time we arrive; my father and I sign us up for three tours tomorrow since we're only here for one full day. We check in to our hotel, have dinner at an Indian-Malay restaurant, and call it an early night.
. . .
The next day we are up at Fajr, and meet a bus driver outside our hotel at 6AM who will drive us to the top of a hill to watch sunrise over a tea plantation. A few others join us from different hotels in Tanah Rata, which is the area where staying in - a mostly Malay town. The driver is not very talkative, and the only thing I retain from the few facts he tells us is that every three years the tea trees are cut down so that they don't grow to be higher than a coconut tree. It reminds me of zoning restrictions in DC and how most government buildings are almost the same height.
It is cold, rainy, and very misty. I have on two shirts, two undershirts, a thick hat and a neck scarf. Stark contrast to KL. We are served breakfast in a box, and not hot tea, but hot nescafe. My father complains that we can't see anything because of the heavy clouds, but slowly, as the sun rises
behind the thick shroud, the light reveals the curves and silhouettes of hills, and the maze of tea leaves. I take in a few deep breaths of fresh air, pick some leaves and bring them close to my face and my nose, just as Georgia O'Keefe would've liked it. Slowly I walk down a beaten down path, a little bit deeper into the tea maze, and discover to my left fields and fields of tea plantations extending to what seems like infinity; there are little rivers trickling in between bushes here and there, tea pickers at work, a car driving to some town; in this landscape there is such sorrow, and solace.
. . .
. . .
At lunch we tour a BOH tea plantation and learn about the tea making process. Tea is cut by hand or lawn mowers, then it's moisturized, ground, and left to ferment for a few hours. Fermentation and drying leads to the black colors of tea. It is then sieved and sorted, packed, sold, and drunk! We're led to a cafe and shop afterwards where we sample some tea against the backdrop of lush green expanses of plantations; it's stunning, and so serene.
. . .
. . .
We go trekking through a jungle, led by a tour guide with a most magnetic personality, and he is an agriculturist so he knows what he's talking about (guy w/yellow shirt in pics). The earth is wet, red, orange and dark brown - almost looks like animal dung, seriously. It's messy and I wish I had my boots, but atleast I'm wearing socks and Sketchers. The guide tells us stories about plants and mosses and points out medicinal properties of different species; we climb steep rocks and grab onto spiny, twisty branches, moving deeper into the forest. Soon we come across the famed "pitcher plant." This is a carniverous (insect-eating) plant that traps insects in a pitcher of sweety, sticky acid which slowly dissolves the insects. How incredible. The plant then absorbs the nutrients after slowly killing the insects.
Our guide points out a leaf that has gold dust on it, and tells us that women used to scrape it for color, for makeup. He adds, " Women need makeup, but men are beautiful inside" . . .
. . .
. . .
I am exhausted, and buy a Rubrik's Cube to keep me awake at one of our rest stops - it actually works, because I don't how to solve it all but am convinced that I can . . . We move on to a vegetable farm. I eat sweet corn picked right in front of me, fall off a mossy ledge into a lettuce patch, pick some red peppers, and learn about planting a diverse culture of species as opposed to a monoculture. Diverse culture yields more produce and more profit. I think that can be applied to other things besides fruits and vegetables actually.
Next we go to a Strawberry Farm and I honestly just want to be horizontal at this point - I need sleep! :/ But the strawberry patch smells wonderful, and my parents and I decide to pick a carton. We head to a lettuce garden afterwards and are given 45 minutes to walk around - why 45 minutes, it befuddles me . . . I am cranky and not interested in lettuce at this point, and manage to lay my head down on a bench for about 10 minutes before we head to a Chrysanthemum Farm. Yes, a chrysanthemum farm.
We are finally on our way to dinner (steamboat!), but dinner is a steamy blur ... don't know what time exactly we get home, but I am here now, writing, and preparing for a five hour bus ride to Penang tomorrow. It's go, go go with my parents . . .
. . .
. . .
Crankiness aside, I loved Cameron Highlands, and I wish I could come back here for longer, just to stare out into the fields of tea without any time limits. Maybe I'll come back after my parents leave . . . I am motivated to work and live on a farm again, for my hands to be in the earth again, to sharpen their memory of life.
. . .
