One day, a respected and prestigious member I had never met was at the Casuarinas. Everybody sat in a circle in a tent and quietly watched as he first carefully cut and mixed the ingredients on a board and then loaded, packed, and lit the bamboo water pipe. He took a long toke before passing it around. It was explained that the marijuana they smoked had to be mixed with tobacco; otherwise, there was no telling where your mind might go and maybe never return. There was no doubt that those Malay boys were connoisseurs in the art of smoking. Indeed, some of them were responsible adults who were aware of all the pros and cons.

My body, making a protest against the civilizing aspects of ritualistic intoxication, began fidgeting. Unable to maintain crossed legs, I began to tilt and sprawl, but was brought back to the upright position by the disapproving nod of the prestigious visitor, for whom decorum must have been a concern.

The pipe was reloaded and offered to me. I cautiously inhaled, then coughed immediately, prompting a chorus of tuts and disapproval. By then, I didn’t know how to sit or smoke a pipe. I tried again just to stave off total humiliation.

Understanding that you had to fill your lungs to capacity for the best result, I quickly primed my respiratory organs for maximum intake, and boy, did those embers burn bright in the bowl of the pipe. Some time elapsed, though I could not say precisely how long, before I looked up with surprise and astonishment, indicating that a sudden, very gratifying event had taken place. However, I could not say precisely what. My amazement was met with universal approval and agreement. However, nothing relevant or explicit was said, and life went on, ob la di, la da, waa. Whatever would happen to the packed smoke now held captive by the do-or-die contractions of my pectoralis minor and intercostals, I was relieved of the necessity of inquiring into. The matter was resolved without conscious participation or the tiniest objections from my lungs.

I do not want at this juncture to be understood as being a proponent of marijuana smoking, and neither do I want to deny that under some circumstances it may be beneficial occasionally to have a heave and a splutter. Say, for instance, if a few puffs could bring about a metamorphosis of murderous intent into feelings of forgiveness. Some have apparently been able to forgive and even bond with perpetrators of heinous crimes. Some people perform vigils hoping to help spare the lives of convicted murderers. I wonder if those well-meaning but misguided philanthropists smoke marijuana. What if, to give another example, a few puffs could prevent every mailbox between town and the state line from being bent out of shape by the overzealous swinging of a baseball bat from the window of a moving vehicle?

There are millions of people north and south of the Mason-Dixon Line who are regularly lighting up and puffing away, right down to the last tweezer-held fragment of leaf. There must be something in it.

In paradise, generally there was none of that, “getting to know you, getting to know all about you”, as the song goes, and as is the rave now of institutionalized quackery, or counseling as it is known. Such endeavors would have seemed superfluous and beyond the call of acceptable behavior. It was refreshing that the fiction we ascribe to ourselves in polite, obsequious circles could be forgotten. The moment carried all the necessary code for mutual comprehension and satisfaction. Paradise was so enthralling that our two cents’ worth was superfluous.

Other Malay boys came and went, all seemingly members of a quiet, dignified fraternity that knew no foolishness, perplexity, idleness, fickleness of mind, familiarity, or sloth. They were a pragmatic, utilitarian bunch who went about their business, whatever it was, with economy of effort, unimpeded by the fearful predicament of mental infirmity and confusion so prevalent in the developed world. They were engaging, charismatic personalities with a charm emancipated from the shackles of female infatuation. They knew the difference between a man and a woman with certainty and how best to carry on that relationship with mutual satisfaction. They were simple and straightforward and still in touch with their own natures and the basic necessities of human life.