Drawing Up Plans

For a couple of urbanites who only have the experience of renovating one home between them, the prospect of building a whole resort is, to say the very least, a daunting one.   Neither of us knew any architects (or at least not personally) who were within reach. 

But like everything else to do with this project, we cast our nets hopefully.  And as the universe would have it, several architects emerged.

The first, Azrina, was someone we had met by chance and is coincidentally the daughter of a family friend.  We were lucky to have met her then.  She was patient in her explanations, and tolerant of our Architecture 101 questions.  She helped us get our first glimpse of what was in store.  Unfortunately, I don't have any photos of her.

Then, we met David through who else but Aida.  We loved David at first sight.  He's now a friend and will be attempting to conquer Mount Kinabalu with us in June.  But that's another story altogether.

Meantime, I decided to take a stab at letting the winds of fortune do some work for me and left a few postings on Facebook.  Wherever there was a Langkawi group, I posted a note indicating my interest to set up business on the island.  Soon, someone contacted me.  And a few months plus a couple meetings later, he is now our architect and project manager.

Meet Ijam - although this isn't a very good photograph of him (He's the one in the center).  Architect, sailor, informer extraordinaire, Daddy of Nena, our favourite Langkawi resident under 10, and all-round trove of interesting information about the island.  By a stroke of luck or maybe fate, Ijam, who resided in Perlis when we first got to know him, has moved to Langkawi and is setting up his architecture practice on the island.  He was a natural choice for us, as it means having someone there on site once construction begins.

We are now commencing our monthly project meetings with him.  The first took place on January 2, 2009 at his home in Langkawi.  The second was at our home over a whole Sunday in February.  Our discussions stretched long into the night, even pulling in my sister, Karen into the fray.  We visioned and dreamed, and talked about our individual ideas for what Pari-Pari will be.

And I must say, I love what I've already heard.

A Piece Of Magic

Our search for a plot of fairy magic ended quite by chance.

One evening in October, after months of searching, I sat in our Klang Valley home, surfing the net on the slim chance I would uncover a glimmer of hope that would lead to the fabled acre or so of earth we were looking for.

At that point, both Anim and I knew we needed a place that was not too far away from the madding crowds yet just enough to build a quiet sanctuary for people who wanted to rest their spirits.  As large as Langkawi is, the tourist trade is largely concentrated around the Pantai Cenang and Pantai Tengah vicinities, where most of the accommodation and facilities were centered.  

Just then, I saw an ad for a land broker and proceeded, over the next few weeks, to contact him and make arrangements to view the plots he had for sale.

November finally rolled around, almost a year to the day my sister and I first set out to the island, baby in tow.  This time we were accompanied by Graham, the husband of a friend of mine.

On the first day, we were taken to see a beautiful little piece of land situated in a paddy field across the road from the famed Bon Ton resort.  The view there was spectacular, a 360-degree panorama that afforded different things to catch the eye at every angle.  One side looked out to the sea and distant sunset.  Another was braced by the ragged peaks of the MatChinchang range, crested with the white structures of the Langkawi cable car.  Behind and beyond stretched green fields of paddy ringed with more hills.

But, it was too small.

Over the next 36 hours or so, we drove around the island, Graham patiently in tow, to continue our search.  In between, Langkawi-style, we detoured to get acquainted with a charming Pakcik who proceeded to invite us to his home for a mug of buffalo milk.  And that was AFTER he gave us a tour of the buffalo farm where we found this fella!

Then, on the second afternoon, the Pakcik who had shown us the paddy field plot rang.  He found a plot we "just had to see" and he sounded excited.  A little while later, we found ourselvesstanding on the little kampung slip road that bordered the first plot we had ever been shown months ago - the odd, triangular slip of land that we had written off on account of the unusable space.  Our hearts sank.

Turning to him, we told him we had seen this plot before.  

Then he said, "No, the one I want to show you is here!" And he pointed across the road to a piece of land we hadn't actually noticed before.  Immediately, I knew our search was over.  It was perfectly located, relatively flat and as a bonus, had full-grown trees!

It didn't take us long to ring our requisite "Island Consultants" - Aida and our architect Ijam - to tell them.  Sooner rather than later, everyone who needed to see it did and gave us the thumbs up.

The only problem was the asking price was too high.  So we attempted to negotiate with Pakcik Number One - the man who had shown us the land.  Boy, we had no idea the kind of ride we were in for.

In urban Klang Valley, purchasing property is a relatively straight-forward affair.  You like something, most probably found it through an agent, agree on a price and off you go.  Not in Langkawi.  Over the next month after finding our desired plot, we were nudged along from one Pakcik to another, all claiming to be the relative of the land owner and authorised to negotiate the land price on his behalf.  Each pakcik we spoke to offered a lower price.  The brokerage tier ran about five or six deep.

In the end, tired, we went back to the land broker who had introduced us to Pakcik Number One.  Not surprisingly, he had no idea about the plot. But, kind soul that he is, he did us a favour.  That's one thing you realise quickly on the island.  For every person that's out to get you, at least two or three are willing to watch your back, even if you're nothing more than a stranger who just happens to be nice and gives them the time of day.  True story.

Bahad the broker, feeling bad for us two silly city girls, contacted his Grand Vizier of all Earthly matters who turned out to be none other than Pak Man.  Of course the old man knew who owned the land.  It belonged to a Chinese towkay who had bought it at an auction.

With Pak Man's help, we got in touch with the actual land owner and by New Year's Eve, were on our way to see him and close the deal.  Fairies in Langkawi don't always come in the shape of tiny winged creatures, but they're definitely there alright.

Island Faces

Now, one year and some months down the road since we started our attempt to move to Langkawi, it almost seems as if we partially live there already.  So much so that we come back to KL with anecdotes of the people we've met, befriended and woven into our life memories.

Our first contact point on the island was our friend Aida. Someone we had only briefly known in KL through a mutual pal.  She moved to Langkawi a few months before my sister and I first went out there to investigate the inn for sale from the Classifieds.  Today she is a Langkawi resident and a naturalist by profession.  

A passionate environmentalist, I also suspect she's caught the bug and will someday look for her own plot of land on the island.  The more the merrier, I say. Plus, it's always nice to begin life in a new place where you already have a friend.

This is Pak Man, who someone once referred to as the Jinn Tanah, on account of his ability to broker land deals.  He was the first land broker we met in Langkawi.  A fiesty old fella, who doesn't hesitate to climb a hill just to check out the view from its best vantage point.  Thanks to him, several of our visits gave us decent workouts!  And be warned - often times I had to resort to makeshift hiking poles of deadwood while he skipped along ahead of us in his flip-flops.  He also introduced us to the famous Langkawi Ikan Bakar shop where the locals mostly go for their fix of Malay rice and fish grilled a la minute.

We first met Pak Man during the historical March 8, 2008 elections and he had plenty to say on the subject of politics.  If our leaders in their ivory towers think they can get away with hoodwinking the grassroots, I'd suggest they talk to him.  Maybe then they would realise that we Malaysians don't suffer fools gladly.

Although in later months we broadened our search to other land brokers, Pak Man unwittingly became a crucial factor in us securing our eventual plot of land - even though he didn't broker the deal.  Maybe it's the way things work in small communities like an island - everything revolves in concentric circles so that you often find that your new starting point is almost exactly where you began in the first place.

This lady is who I want to be when I grow up!  I believe she is already well into her seventies, but she is such a delight. 

We had arranged to meet her at the plot of land she wanted to sell - a good three-acres set among a vast expanse of paddy fields.  It's hard not to fall in love with the sight of paddy fields at harvest time.  Patch after endless patch of lively green stalks, heads bowed from the weight of rice ready for reaping, swaying like uncertain toddlers every time the breeze tousled their leaves.

The minute we met Makcik, I knew Anim would buy her plot of land if she had cash to spare.  The lady alighted from her ride - a noisy, little motorbike driven by her seemingly underaged grandson or grand nephew (one never knows the specifics) - with the agility of a teenager and the certainty of someone who intended to continue living for a long while yet - despite what the universe may have in store for her, thank you very much.

Later, we found out she was a well-recognised figure around Langkawi.  It turned out she actually had her own motorbike, and would have rode it to our meeting had it not been out of petrol.  Her only concession to modernity was to wear a helmet while riding.  But she didn't bother with a driving licence.  By her calculations, she was too old for the policemen to be stopping her for no reason.

Meeting Makcik made me a little melancholy.  Here was a local resident who had a valuable asset to sell and limited means to do so.  The reality is that a fair number of land deals on the island are being increasingly transacted with foreigners - most looking to retire on Langkawi or make it their holiday home.  But without the ability to converse with them in English, locals like Makcik are at the mercy of multiple land brokers whose layers sometimes can run up to five or six deep, leaving the land owner with a lot less once commissions had been paid.

I have heard that the situation in other more developed islands like Bali is very bad.  To the point where locals are harrassed by land brokers to give up their land for not-so-pretty pennies.  As a result, local Balinese are moving further and further inland, pushing them farther off from the economically lucrative tourist trade.

I hope this doesn't happen in our own Langkawi.  The more I frequent the island, the more I see how we can stop what is happening in Bali and Phuket to Langkawi.  But it will take Malaysians with a conscience to exercise some self-discipline in ensuring that while we improve the commercial viability of the island, we also do it responsibly, with least negative impact on its residents - be they human or flora and fauna.

It's not someone else's job to preserve the gifts we have.  It's ours.