THE travel bubble to Langkawi implemented more than a month ago was like a breath of fresh air in my stagnant, confined-within-four-walls life.
Ecstatic, I quickly packed my things (to be honest, I had been packing for an imaginary trip for months) and went to stay at this beautiful island, the Jewel of Kedah.
The last time I was there was earlier this year before the third Movement Control order. I was keen to revisit some of my favourite spots, mainly local cafes and establishments where I had sat for hours to work, write or read a book, surrounded by a flutter of people coming and leaving, and chatty waiters with a lot of fun stories.
That's my favourite thing to do whenever I am in places like these, because the amalgamation of people from all sorts of places and backgrounds, huddled together in a cafe over drinks and meals is a gold mine for stories.
The first thing I observed when I arrived on the island was a different "energy". There was a lack of Langkawi's usual chaos at the airport, not as bustling as before.
A local driver, who was trying to get customers for his car rental service, told me how relieved he was that the tourism ban had been lifted. They had struggled to make ends meet for the past year and they were anxious that the spread of a new Covid-19 variant could further cripple their main source of income.
AFTER A CATASTROPHE
Each day that I was in this tropical gem, it became more apparent how the abrupt halt of Malaysia's tourism industry had severely impacted the local community.
A lot of my favourite cafes had either closed down permanently or had to slim down operations through labour cuts and menu restrictions.
A particularly heartbreaking incident happened when I arrived at the front door of a local coffee shop that we, as a family, used to visit for years, only to find it completely empty and deserted. Hotels had to slash down prices just to break even as tourism services were completely shut down.
A local hiking guide I hired for a hike up Mount Datai told me that he had been unemployed for months, and being restricted on an island means less chances of finding alternative jobs in other industries.
As I sat in a shaded spot of a barely-surviving establishment, watching jaded waiters hardly serving anyone and empty hotels with no revenue trying to kick start after a long drought in business, it occurred to me that although all of us are starting over in some ways or another, there are those who have faced a catastrophe and are trying to pick up the pieces.
Lockdowns impacted everyone, but to different degrees. I come out of it still having a job and a roof over my head, but not everyone has it the same.
Mentally, I have been affected and changed, but for some, the past two years have plunged them into deep depression. Some of us really had to struggle more than others.
I had a chat with a waitress in one of the restaurants in Langkawi where I went for dinner, and she told me that during the peak of the lockdown when everything was closed on the island and she had no income, she struggled to even buy diapers for her baby.
I immediately had flashbacks of myself experiencing the same lockdown, but certainly in a less severe situation at least financially.
The truth is we all experience hardship differently, and not all of us have access to the help we need. It goes without saying that we can all play a part in helping people around us get back on their feet, financially, physically, or even through emotional support.
Some of us may have to start over from scratch, building back a rundown business or trying to find a new job. Some of us may be recovering from profound mental challenges caused by the ripple effects of the pandemic. Some of us may have to live without loved ones, victims of the virus.
This transition is bittersweet — a new beginning, but with scars and marks nonetheless, changes within ourselves that will reshape our realities forever.
As we move on, let's not forget to take a moment to look around and recognise each other's struggles and be kinder and more supportive members of our community.
