The Malaysian Ending

I live for the boat rides just before a storm when the water reaches for the sky in sharp points like meringue, and there are no guests in the boat, just Rippen and I and sometimes Sebastian. Rippen drives faster then, careening off the waves like a roller coaster, surveying the water for logs or garbage. Where I see debris, he sees the shadows the waves cast on the water. He is a skilled driver, born in a village called Mukut just south of Bagus Place, where he grew up on the water. He knows when the sea is angry and when it will be calm and flat like porcelain.

On these boat rides, I scan the horizon, watch the beaches and the jungle of Tioman stretch out in both directions, search the water for giant sea turtles, and feel the salty wind whip across my face. It’s the only time I feel movement, as if I’m getting somewhere, traveling to a point somewhere in the future. I can’t help but smile. But when the boat pulls into the harbor in Tekek and the heat of the day presses down, and I have to race from one end of town to the other, buying groceries, alcohol, and bread, and I start sweating until I begin to smell the sour smell of my own body and realize, I really haven’t gone anywhere.

It’s a strange feeling living on an island, or rather a beach that’s roughly only a quarter mile long. I live here, I work here, I take my two hour breaks here; there’s no leaving. I wake up at work. I go to sleep at work. I work on average 10-12 hours a day (sometimes 16 or 17), 7 days a week without any days off. I’m exhausted. I cry a lot and I yell at Seb for no reason. He is patient, but it’s wearing on our relationship. I put on a front for the guests, smile when they ask me for things during my few hours of freedom, ask them if they want another drink at 1 am, hoping they’ll say no so I can get 6 hours of sleep before waking for breakfast, but obliging when they say yes. Sometimes I feel like I’m going crazy. I’m on a breathtaking island, but I feel miserable. I hide in my room during breaks instead of going swimming in the clear water. I’ve stopped caring about the cockroaches that share my bed with me or the ants that bite me in the night.

In light of all that and the fact that we have only seen two places on the island since arriving, and our one day we planned to take off of work for the entire month and a half was spent working and with the prospects of only a mere possibility of taking one day off in the next month, we’ve decided this isn’t how we want to spend our lives. We get paid a mere $20 a day which doesn’t make me feel too motivated. And when we expressed our concerns to our boss who lives in England his response was a simple, “You knew what you were getting into. You’ll just have to make it work.” We’re putting in our notice.

We’re making plans again. Starting from scratch, with the hopes of moving back to Portland where we’ll just cross our fingers that Seb can find some under the table work.

In the meantime, we go python hunting, shark spotting, and monitor lizard feeding. I swim every 3 or 4 days. I read when I can. I take deep breaths at the end of the jetty. I try to stay sane.