Himanshu Bhatt tells of his fascinating search to uncover the secret behind
a set of ancient giant footprints in Penang.
 Batu Maung is a secluded district on the south-eastern
tip of Penang island with apparently little to offer visitors - wooden coffee
shops, kampung houses, an old Chinese temple, a mildly active jetty and a
private sculpture park.
But, unknown to many, the area is also home to an
ancient site that has existed for more than a century, and whose mystery
may well rival the mystique of such legends as North America's Bigfoot and
the Himalayan Yeti.
The Batu Maung footprint
measuring 33 inches in length.
This picture was taken in 1993 before the site was
enshrined.
Stamped upon a solid rock in Batu Maung's beachfront
is a gigantic footprint. Its origin is unknown to even the oldest of the
town's inhabitants. The best explanations for its existence are swamped in
myth and folklore.
 I had seen the print as a child and heard strange stories
about it. But when my adult curiosity pushed me to investigate the mystery
some 7 years ago, I became involved in a fascinating revelation of facts
and stories hitherto untold.
The complementry right
foot print in the jungle behind Kampung Mesjid, Bayan Lepas. This photo showing
the writer measuring the print was taken after its discovery in
1993.
The most astounding discovery I made was that the
collosal Batu Maung print - of a left sole - was not alone. I found a
complementary right foot print of the same size in a jungle in Bayan Lepas,
at least ten kilometres away. To this day, both prints lie quietly, away
from widespread attention, in an almost contented, placid concealment of
their secret origins; while at least two other prints are said to exist in
the nearby islets of Pulau Aman and Pulau Jerejak.
I had first heard local Indians talk about the Batu
Maung footprint - it was of the great monkey god Hanuman who, while leaping
over the ocean had taken a thunderous step on Penang island. According to
one tale, he was searching for a herbal cure for the legendary Rama's brother,
Lakshamana, who was wounded during the great war depicted in the Sanskrit
epic, the Ramayana. Another story says that he was on his way to secretly
meet Rama's kidnapped wife Sita in Lanka (assuming a popular Indonesian belief
that Lanka was in Sumatra).
The footprint in Batu Maung resembles the imprint
of a left foot some 0.85 metres (33 inches) in length. When, accompanied
by my colleague Dharmaraj, I surveyed the print in 1993, it had been left
on an open granite boulder with burnt-out incense sticks and decayed banana
offerings lying in front of it. The footprint faced south-west towards the
sea, and interestingly enough, in the direction of Sumatra.
Today, the print is carefully enshrined in a small
temple built by the local Chinese community. A common Chinese belief has
it that the footprint was made by Cheng Ho (also called Sam Poh), the famous
Chinese admiral who visited Malacca in the fifteenth century. The site is
now officially called "Sam Poh Footprint".
My big discovery came when Dharmaraj and I found
two elderly Malay villagers - Haji Manaf Ibrahim and Haji Shafie Kulab -
both in their eighties. The two had spent all their lives in Batu Maung and
both confirmed that the print had been there even before they were born.
They then narrated to us a fascinating and rarely-told Malay myth passed
on by their ancestors.
Hundreds of years ago, the story goes, there lived
on the island a giant named Gedembai who was strong and feared by folks.
One day, while chopping down bamboo, a villager inadvertently caused a long
piece to fly high into the air. Gedembai, seeing this from afar, mistook
the bamboo for another giant. Frightened, Gedembai bolted, thumping heavy
steps on the earth. He was never seen again, but his footprints remain to
this day at the very spot which local Malays call Tapak Gedembai.
The story was a captivating piece of folklore, but
what struck us was that there were meant to be three more surviving footprints
of the mighty Gedembai - one in Penang, and the other two in Pulau Aman and
Pulau Jerejak. Thrilled, we immediately obtained the whereabouts of the other
print on Penang island and within minutes found ourselves racing towards
a remote kampung in Bayan Lepas. The footprint, we were told, lay near a
waterfall in a jungle behind the kampung.
It took us an hour to find Kampung Mesjid. Located
about a mile away from the Bayan Lepas main road, we had to turn off into
a winding stretch that led past wooden houses, mosques and a rural school.
We accosted some elderly villagers who assured us
that the footprint did exist, but no one had seen it in ages. Left untended,
it had been covered with silt and dust. We also learned that water had collected
in the print, making it a breeding ground for mosquitoes. Someone had therefore
covered the print with cement.
A villager who wished to be identified only as Daud
suggested that if the area of the footprint were cleared, the print may be
found. We walked through a jungle path to the waterfall with Daud, and waited
as he cleared and patted the ground to feel the cement.
 It took his simple exclamation to launch us on a frantic
clearing of the ground. We brushed aside earth, leaves and dust, and within
minutes, the cement-covered footprint of the mythical Gedembai lay before
us.
Today, the footprint lies just metres away from
a multi-million ringgit development project that has polluted the waterfall
and flattened much of the jungle. In a very short time, the mighty Gedembai's
right foot print will be inevitably covered forever by the encroaching
development.
The cement covered right
print of the mighty Gedembai.
No one has been able to explain how the two
complementary footprints have come into being without delving into traditional
tales and folklore. All we know is that they have existed for more than a
century. They may have been produced by old natives who wished to re-enact
an age-old myth. If so, there may well be more prints elsewhere.
During a recent visit to Batu Maung, I sat near
the new shrine, letting a cool sea breeze blow at my face. As I watched a
mother guide her child to offer joss-stick prayers to the ancient footprint,
I could only bear out the conclusion I felt years ago.
Whatever the prints' real origins may be, they have
left an indelible mark in the hearts of several cultures and, in a curious
way, they have left their prints by bearing the faith and beliefs of a people
through time.
But perhaps, just perhaps, it was Gedembai?
Written by
Himanshu Bhatt |
