Poking Around Graveyards in Penang

The Protestant Graveyard in Penang is the final resting place of many Colonial settlers.

The sky was cloudy and grey, and there was a light rain falling as I walked into the Protestant Graveyard in Georgetown, Penang. Over the last few weeks, I’ve rode passed the graveyard, making a mental note to stop and visit. Why I chose to visit on a soggy, humid afternoon is beyond my current understanding.

Graveyards are creepy, fascinating places. As a teenager I was obsessed with family history and graveyards were generally a good source of information, which means I would visit them often. In many cases I was looking for my own family members, and while families sat quietly in front of their loved one’s grave, grieving, I could be heard shouting “Dad! I have one over here. Come quick!”. Sure, it was a tad disrespectful, but to my defence, I was usually there before them (the family, not the loved one) and hadn’t noticed their arrival. That doesn’t mean I was running through the graveyard or sitting on crypts or tombstones. No, I was too creeped out for that stuff. The ground in front of a grave is always soft and if the grave is old, the ground slightly concaves, which sends chills throughout my body and makes my incredibly detailed imagination go into overdrive. I have rules when it comes to walking through graveyards, one of which involves standing to the side of a grave and never directly in front of it.

Almost 20 years later, I am still creeped out and fascinated by graveyards. Not the shiny new ones, but the old, decaying ones. I don’t look at them with thoughts of my ancestors, I look at them with thoughts of history. The grounds are usually covered in dead leaves, fallen branches, dirt and moss. The trees are old and tower over the grave below.  The tombstones have slow began to decay and fall apart, some of them are so old that its almost impossible to read the inscription. History. Secrets. Sadness. Intrigue. Some of the markers will give hints about a person’s life, others, a name and date. If the dead, the ones resting in these decaying graveyards, could talk, I wonder what they would say. What would their story be? How did they die? Do the history books have it right, or was life in their time completely different? Nobody knows. Nobody will ever truly know. That is part of the fascination with graveyards. History. Secrets. Sadness. Intrigue.

A view inside the Protestant Graveyard in Georgetown, Penang

The ground inside the cemetery was wet and squishy, and I was immediately cursing my choice of footwear (flip flops) for the day. A faded red brick path lined with Franjipani trees, covered with moss and various fungi,  led from just inside the entrance towards the middle of the cemetery. I walked a short distance and stopped. The path was blocked by a Malaysian girl dressed in black knee-high leather boots and a tight red dress the colour of blood. In front of her were two photographers and an assistant. I was about the walk into the middle of a photo shoot. In some ways it’s seriously creepy, but I understand the concept. I stand and watch for a moment or two before reluctantly leaving the path and walking on the squishy ground.

I walked slowly, always aware of where the headstones were located and careful to not step in front of them. Some of inscriptions were easy to read, others were too faded. I stopped and read one about a woman who was buried at sea and loved the fact that the latitude and longitude of her burial had been inscribed on her headstone. I wondered what her story was. I’m curious about where she was sailing from and what life must have been like aboard a ship for long periods of time (the thought of being on a boat longer than 4 days freaks me out).

Built in 1789 to act as the final resting place for Penang’s early British colonial settlers, the Protestant Cemetery is located along Jalan Sultan Ahmad Shah between Jalan Penang and Jalan Transfer. The cemetery was created mostly for colonial administrators, missionaries, and traders, including that of Captain Francis Light the man responsible for establishing the island as a British Settlement.

My steps were careful as I walked around graves and avoided large fallen branches. I wanted to keep exploring the cemetery, but the rain was still falling and the light was poor. In the end I decided to make my way back to the entrance and to return to the cemetery on a sunny day, with proper shoes. Perhaps when I return there won’t be a photo shoot and I can take some un-obstructed photos of the path through the Franjipani trees.

Why not take a trip to Penang and see ancient history first hand, with cheap holidays available throughout the year be sure to book early to avoid disappointment. You will be able to visit one of the smallest districts which has some of the most friendly people you could ever wish to meet.