Fishing and drying fish rely entirely on the weather — A surprising opium bed discovered in a small Malaysian fishing village

▲ Grandpa Chen Mingcai’s “river fish life” depends entirely on nature — a reflection of the old overseas Chinese who ventured south to Nanyang in Malaysia. (Photo / Reporter Chen Ziying, the same below)

Reporter Chen Ziying / Report from Malaysia

When traveling to a country, if you don’t pause your hurried steps and step into the lives of the local residents, the journey can feel a bit superficial. Sometimes it’s a single household, a garden, or even just a few words that allow travelers to get a little closer, to feel that cultural difference and the meaningful collision that leaves a beautiful impression — and these residents often reflect the history of the city or the country.


▲ The small fishing village near Kemaman Port is entirely devoted to fishing and drying fish.

At Kemaman Port in Terengganu, Malaysia (now known as Terengganu), numerous fishing boats are moored because this is the home of fish — and also where Grandpa Chen Mingcai’s family settled after his father came down to Nanyang from China. Upon entering Grandpa Chen’s yard, you’ll see him deftly spreading salt-boiled “river fish” on bamboo mats, preparing them for nearly six hours of sun-drying. Behind him is a pond used by villagers to repair fishing boats. In this tranquil fishing village, the peaceful atmosphere contrasts slightly with the curious figures of tourists.

 
▲ Grandpa Chen brings out basket after basket of salt-boiled river fish, which must then undergo at least six hours of natural sun-drying. On cloudy days, the drying process takes even longer.

 
▲ The oversized pot used to boil the river fish and the dried fish ready for sale — ten pieces are packed in one bag, ready to go to market.

“We all live off the weather!” said Grandpa Chen’s daughter Xiuping. Because the annual fish catch varies greatly, depending not only on the weather but also on the tides, experience tells them when to start fishing — usually after the Lunar New Year in February — and continue until around October. By November and December, it’s too cold and the fish catch is low, so they focus on mending nets and boats.

Every morning at six, the first batch of fishing boats heads out to sea and returns at noon. The second batch goes out at four in the afternoon and comes back at eight in the evening. Grandpa Chen boils the caught river fish in brine in a pot, then sun-dries them from nine in the morning until two in the afternoon. Xiuping says, “It also depends on the weather — if it’s cloudy, we can’t do it and have to dry them longer.” The dried fish are sieved through bamboo baskets and then packed in paper bags, ten pieces per bag, to be sold at shops. In Kampong Kemaman, everyone produces these small dried fish. Some are made into salted fish, others into fish cakes. Xiuping says, “Our river fish is perfect for soup — no MSG needed at all. The taste is very sweet and natural.”

In just a half-hour visit, through the explanations of Grandpa Chen Mingcai and his daughter Xiuping, it felt as though time had been condensed into that one day. Decades passed like one day — this is not only a reflection of Grandpa Chen’s family, but also a historical testament to the entire Kampong Kemaman fishing village.


▲ Surprisingly, there’s an opium bed from World War II in Grandpa Chen’s house. Xiuping said it was brought over by her grandfather — Grandpa Chen Mingcai’s father — when he came down to Nanyang from Xiamen, China, to Malaysia.


▲ Grandpa Chen’s home is an ordinary household, but what you see here is the passage of time and a microcosm of culture. The afternoon in this small Kampong Kemaman fishing village is truly thought-provoking.

※ The trip to the small fishing village at Kemaman Port in Terengganu, Malaysia, is an external experience program of Club Med Cherating Village. For details, please refer to the official website:www.clubmed.com.tw/