Matt's Tropical Island Holiday 05

Matt says "I went on a trip to Malaysia in 2005 with my family. On this trip I met a couple of local guys and hung out with them the whole time. These pics are to remember the good times in beautiful Malaysia."

Young Matt showing his buddies how to throw a mean sandball. I don't think you're gonna throw it far with that silly smile and dainty pose, young man!

His older buddies (mad, half-naked unfit men) chase a football into the water, terrorizing innocent sunbathers and two oily Italian men strolling by the beach.

Matt is nowhere to be seen. Did these 'tough' guys eat him up? Or did they forget they buried him somewhere?

Thanks for the photos, Matt. I'm glad you and your buddies had a flippin' nice time. Keep the good times rollin' and the good pics comin', buddy.

What is a sarongutan? Part 3

“The heavy rain suddenly stopped when one of us put the sarong on. We were all amazed and one by one quickly put on the sarongs too. Before we knew it the rain stopped and the sun came out. We were so happy we danced, laughed and threw a huge party. It was known as ‘The Big Sarong-aton Bash of 88’. We‘ve never taken off our sarongs and we’ve held annual Sarong-aton parties right here to keep the sun shining forever. And that is why we call ourselves ‘Sarongutans’,” said uncle.

“Wow, that is an amazing story,” I said.

“One that you are a part of,” he replied. “You are a sarongutan too, my boy.” Uncle grabs a sarong and wraps it around my waist. I looked around at everyone and I see happiness. I see young sarongutans swingin’ with their friends. I see the elder sarongutans sharing a laugh. This is real happiness. This is what being a sarongutan means.

On my journey home, I find myself constantly smiling and needing to share this amazing feeling to as many as I can. What I saw at the village was too great to be kept secret. But how do I do that? Who would believe such a bizarre story? And then it hit me. What if I made people feel happy by reminding them of their good times with their loved ones? I tried it out over drinks with my buddies. It worked! The laughter and energy I saw was similar to the sarongutan village. I need to let everyone else know.

My name is Hugh Mann. My friends call me Hugh ‘da’ Mann. And I am a sarongutan. Let me remind you of your good times………

What is a sarongutan? Part 2

The day after I graduated from school mom said to me, “Hugh, you need to know something about who you are and where you’re from. Please follow this map and meet your uncle, who lives in the jungle by the Kinabatangan river. Don’t worry about finding him. He knows who you are.”

I have an Uncle? In the Jungle?

Being curious I set off on my journey. After two days of trekking in the jungle I found my uncle at a village. I was shocked! He looks exactly like me, orange fur and cute face and all. Looking around, I noticed everyone in the village looks like me.

“Hugh? Where’s your sarong, boy?” he asked me.

It was then that I realized everyone there was wearing a sarong too. Why is everyone wearing a sarong? Why am I always the only one not wearing a sarong? My uncle could see I was confused. He sat me down and said, “I believe your mom said I need to tell you something.”

“Years ago we were going through a long, wet and rainy spell here. It rained non-stop and it affected everyone. We couldn’t sleep, play or hang. Everyone was miserable because it was always dark and everybody’s fur was always wet.”

“Gee, that sounds like not a lot of fun,” I said.

“You bet your orange behind it wasn’t! Our spirits were drenched and drained. Then one glorious day, something weird happened. I remember it was around noon that day and the rain was pouring as usual, but far up in the sky the rain started changing colors. We could see little dots of blue and pink and yellow slowly appearing all over the grey skies. Then suddenly, one of it fell on my lap. It was a sarong - bold and blue and soft to the touch. One by one these sarongs fell from the skies. It must have been in the thousands. But something magical happened when one of us put it on...”


To be continued…

What is a sarongutan? Part 1

Sunset at Tanjung Aru, my home.

Hello. My name is Hugh Mann. I am a sarongutan.

I grew up on the beach my whole life. My parents, Mr. Mann and Mrs. Mann, worked at a beach in Sabah, Malaysia called Tanjung Aru. Dad rents out jetskis while Mom sells yummy satay sticks by the beach. My Dad isn’t a Malaysian, but he decided to live here after witnessing “the most magically inspiring sunset on the face of the planet” during a holiday here, whatever that means. Mom is a local, born and bred right here in good ol’ Sabah.

What I like most about the beach besides the sunset is how colorful it is. Everyone here wears a colorful sarong. I started liking the sarong when I was 10. Mom and Dad wore sarongs all the time but they never made me wear sarongs. I asked Mom, “How come everyone at the beach wears a sarong? Where’s mine?” To which she replied, “Hugh, honey, you don’t need a sarong. You have fur.”

Fur?

Other kids always teased me at school because of my funny face and my orange, hairy body. When I was young I didn’t understand why I looked different. Maybe Mom fed me Dad’s hair-loss medicine instead of milk? As for my face, I always thought I was kinda cute. Some girls told me I was cute but when I asked them to go out on a date with me they said, “Not in a million years!”

Am I really that different? What am I?


To be continued…