Sitting on the white sandy beach of Penang. A group a travellers from planet earth. Some on a Visa run to get quickly back to their beloved students. Some of their live journeys. Some on a holiday from life. Nationalities from all over the world. Every one following their passions and feelings. Drawing, playing sand soccer, fire pois, sunbathing, reading, swimming, sleeping.
... and than ...
Than there is Charlie. Old man Charlie. Our all hostel daddy. A funny, true hearted man, who looks after us. Keeping us entertain, fed and away from dying of beer thirst. With funny and true stories and an English-Malayan mix that no one can truly understand, if he doesn't want it. The soul of the place, who brought us to the Monkey beach to relax … and tell us one of his life wisdoms to all us young ones laying on the beach… in his Malayan-English, that is just adorable.
'PEACE', one of the girls, coming refreshed, out of the water, showing us the victory sign, towards the group.
'You don't say peace.' Charlies' simple reply.
'Whaaaa? What?' another simple reply.
'You don't say peace.'
'What?'
'Yo say peace, there is war. You don't say peace, there is no war. No war. No Peace. Just be.'
Nailed it! How simple is that. Just nailed it. Old mens wisdom. We young ones were just silent. No one replied. Some faces where changing. Thoughtful.