Big brother is cool

Words of the day: Awas, as in Awas Selekoh Bahaya  (Caution. Corner. Danger.)



Kaelen versus the Canadian crepes (with mango, papaya, banana, yoghurt and maple syrup!)

After a pit stop in KL for food supplies (we are doing dinner tomorrow night for Allie and Anton and also crepes – with all the lovely fruit here -- for brekkie), we are back at Allie’s. Not a long break, as Ali comes racing through from the bedroom (we are all flaked out all over the place, and J&T are playing ping pong with River, Kaelen and their buddy Alister) to tell us that we have to go NOW, because of traffic, to meet up with his oldest brother, for an eventual dinner somewhere. But that he is meeting us at point XYZ and then taking us from that point on to his condo. NOW. We have to go NOW. (Allie of course tells us we are crazy to leave NOW because the traffic in KL, on a Friday night, is vicious from 3pm to about 9pm). But no, we leave NOW, and Ali decides – in a fitfully dilemma-ed state that I should drive as he has instructions and will direct me as he sort of knows where we are going. Ok. Fine by me. But I need a shower before we go NOW. The kids are grumpy (we just GOT here, Papa, they say) and I think, oh boy. But I really want to meet his brother. Other than last year, Ali had not seen Charlie (his nickname) for close to 20 years...long family story...Oprah material, not blog material...and I am dying to meet him. I have a sneaking suspicion he will be cool.

Uncle Charlie is cool. Uncle Charlie has long hair, used to race cars and now has a workshop with a bunch of Malaysian Protons (car) in it and an old Porsche he is refurbishing. He also does elaborate displays of engine cutouts at various shows, commissioned by Lotus (now Malaysian owned) and other car companies. We chat a bit in their condo, where he and Ezra, his wife, and his grandchildren (Elix, aged 10 and Omar, aged 7) hang out. The grandchildren hang out at their grandparents’ place a lot, which is really cool. Charlie and Ezra are so laid back; it is obvious the kids love being with them. Charlie takes us out to a restaurant called the Laman Grill which has a team of award-winning chefs and the food is not only delicious but spectacularly presented. Gillian, you would have loved it.

Hannah seriously enjoying her prawns nested atop a display case

Uncle Charlie and Omar

I forgot to say that, heading out that night, I drove us – between Ali shouting directions or getting headachey from reading directions scrawled on a piece of paper – to this meeting point, a Porsche dealership. Here on the side of the road (where everyone is doing 100kph+), Ali spots Charlie sitting in HIS Mazda MPV (green version of what we are driving), at which point we follow him. It’s complete organized chaos. I am already driving like a bat out of hell, but now I feel like I am in a car chase scene in some Jackie Chan film, the two of us driving quite unstable old vans, as I madly try to keep up with Charlie as he weaves in and out...and in and out...and in and out...of traffic and lanes...exiting...changing his mind...doing u-turns...and TEXTING Ali. Ali – who is half giggling (and half feeling carsick as he reads the text) says his brother has texted “No fair, lah, you got a driver...sooooo special. And matsalleh, too. Where got?” I think this is hilarious and know for sure I like this guy. He eventually leads us to his condo complex, where the guard begrudgingly lets the crazy matsalleh driver in after Charlie, and then we enter a narrow underground parking lot at much the same speed we were doing on the highways. I am on a bit of a high here (I feel there should be a wreath of flowers and some champagne at the end of it all) and zip into a spot beside him, edging the nose of the van right up to the wall, instead of about 5 feet from it. Ha, I think, feeling a bit like the character in Ten Apples Up On Top – ha, you can do three? See...I can do more. I can do four. Of course we get out of our vans, lots of greetings and hugs and kisses and, as we walk past the front of our van, he says, “So...do all Canadians park so close to the wall, lah, like this?” We all burst out laughing as I realize, you are SUPPOSED to park up to a certain line, leaving a big gap for people to walk by. Ooops. So much for my Jackie-Chan-turned-Jackie-Stewart manoeuvres.

So, getting back to dinner; it was delicious, the company was great, and Ali had a great time catching up with his big bro, both completely engrossed in cars and engines and bits about life in general. It’s all really easy and fantastic, and we part with Charlie saying we should go out for a pint sometime this week.

Today is Saturday and once again, we are happily hanging out, post-crepe-making fest with Hannah, Taz and Kaelan as Chief Crepe Flippers. There is a huge thunderstorm happening and it’s all quite cosy and relaxing. I can hear ping pong being played outside under the car overhang , other kids are taking turns on the computer and Hannah has discovered a lengthy string of tiny magnetic metal pearls, and is making crazy contraptions with it on a doorknob. Ali and Anton are off to the fish market for something to bbq for our so-called ‘Canadian’ dinner tonight that includes chimichurri, sweet potato fries, guacamole and a replacement green salad (cannot find kale for Phoebe’s kale salad! Canadian? Chimichurri? South America. Guacemole? Mexico. Sweet potato fries? Southern US. Oh, who knows. I also told Allie about Eb’s squid, and she wants to try that too. So that’s on the menu later this week.

Joompa lagi, blogglebugles.

Taman Negara Malaysian flower interlude No. 1 for Lynn

Taman Negara Malaysian flower interlude No. 2 for Lynn

Taman Negara Malaysian flower interlude No. 3 for Lynn

Taman Negara Malaysian flower interlude No. 4 for Lynn

Taman Negara...a jungly sort of trip

Words of the day:  Teh susu, kurung manis, tapau. (Tea with milk, not so sweet, to go. The ‘to go’ part is actually Chinese, I discover.)

So, here’s the scoop with getting to Taman Negara. Depending on what brochure, website or tourist promo piece your read, it can take 2 hours to drive there (to the first jetty) or 3 hours. And then, at the point of that first jetty, it can either take another 3 hours to drive...or 2 hours...or 45 minutes. I know, we were a bit lost too. A bit like driving in Malaysia, really. Anything goes. Any lane, any turn, any form of parking. Anything possible. Anywhere.



Not the best shot because it gives you no sense of the speed nor the weaving motorcycle factor

Of course, we assumed we were driving all the way in, so I thought: holy crap, to beat the traffic (traffic in KL is BRUTAL) we should leave early. Like 7 am early, especially if it’s now going to take us 6 hours, without a lunch stop (we had packed sardine puffs, Tandoori chicken puffs, potato curry puffs, diced papaya, thick creamy yoghurt, juice and water with us for a roadside stop). Of course, we only found out the details of our trip when Ali went to get the van, as it was his sister who had booked it all for us. It’s all been a bit haphazard really, but we are learning to be patient and just let things happen. So turns out we drive the 3 hours to the first jetty – called Tembeling jetty – and then taking the longboat right into the jungle to the second jetty, Kuala Tahan Jetty. So I drive us there, along the massive highway out of the city first, and then eventually on smaller side roads and finally through a little town called Jerantut (Ali and I comment that it reminds us of ‘kentut’ which means to fart, in Malay). We get there at 11ish, as we have stopped for a few snacks, gas, a cup of tea for me, coffee for Ali and even a roadside quick peek (and nabbing) of some rubber at a rubber plantation.

Rubber trees are carved (does not damage the trees) around the bark at a 45 degree angle spiral, causing the white sap to drip in buckets...very like maple tapping at home. The liquid rubber sets eventually in the bucket, at the end of the day, and then I guess they remove it from here and probably melt it to process it further. Quite fascinating.



Rubber sap drippingdown tree

Anyway, back to the trip. It turns out that, as part of our package, we get lunch at the jetty – there is one place there to eat, already half-filled with a number of other tourists and backpackers in the same boat as us...figuratively speaking. The boat – literally speaking – leaves at 2pm. Oops. We are a bit – ok a lot – early. (Alison strikes again). We eat, wander around, and hang out on some benches and read our books and chat with a couple from Germany. Ali practices his German. I practice my English.

the longboat

Heading off to Taman Negara up the Tembeling River

Enjoying the breeze created while on the longboat!

Buffalo of the water kind hanging out on the shores

There are a number of boats waiting that take travellers off into the muddy brown and fast moving Tembeling river into Taman Negara. The boats are long and narrow and incredibly stable. Think canoe, and then undo that thought. Nothing like a canoe at all. There is room for two in each bench seat, no more, and if you are rather large (as one Dutch tourist was), then it becomes quite a diplomatic exercise for the local boaters. There is a real strategy about where you are to sit, to balance out the boat, and all the luggage (we packed light this time – sooooooooo smart, lah) at the front. So the boys had to sit together, then Hannah and I and then Ali. I am glad we were near the back as we got to see more – the bags at the front really block the front view, as you will see by the photos. Off you zoom upstream, propelled by a buzzing 2-stroke outboard motor. (I have no idea what I am talking about. We had dinner last night – in real time – with two car nuts, Ali and his brother, and I guess the conversation has not worn off yet). We are travelling against what is a very strong current, hence the 3-hour trip. The return trip is 2 hours. It is a lovely, peaceful trip. In fact, so peaceful Jordan flops over to one side and falls asleep for the first hour. We see incredible lush jungle on either sides, the odd monkey and some big grey water buffalo who are eyeballing us back.

We arrive right on schedule at the first floating restaurant aka the jetty (as with everything in Malaysia, there are multiple uses for everything and everyone – remember the movie Local Hero?), and I think I will let Jordan’s blog tell you the rest of this bit.

Floating Restaurant aka Reception aka Jetty

What I do want to say is we met the sweetest tour guide ever. He seemed to be our own private guide. He was a super handsome 22 year old named Azli who fell in love with our children on our first outing, the night jungle hike. After chatting and chatting with us, and totally relating to our kids in such a wonderful way, he then said, “You know tomorrow will be really busy on the canopy walk, there will be a line-up to go on it” and went on to make the suggestion that we do things differently to beat the crowds. He told us to show up at the jetty at 9am and instead of doing the hike first (a couple of hours) to the canopy walk, and then the canopy walk, he would take us by boat straight to the canopy walk and afterwards we would do the hike. Brilliant. We do this, the five of us, with our own private guide, lovely Azli, and then do the hike: a brutally hot and humid uphill climb for an hour and a half, after which we are all soaked with sweat and have used up every single one of our water bottles. I find the uphill fine; sure it’s a good cardiovascular workout but the downhill is torture on my knee (I have left my brace at Allie and Anton’s, of COURSE). The stepping down parts are steep gaps and by the time we get to the edge of the river (there is no levelling out, the last 8 steps are cement steps about 6 inches wide and a foot and half high), my left knee is shaking all by itself. It’s as if I’ve turned on a little motor (2-stroke?) inside it. Yikes. But it is fine, after that.

Ali versus the canopy walk...he made it!

Water break and fruit break...we are soaked with sweat.

The beginning of the jungle hike...

This was actually taken on the night hike, hence the weird (flash) lighting

Big spider (sorry...can't remember the species)

The view after our uphill climb

Again, another night hike treasure: the black scorpion

Anyway, to continue with how lovely Azli was, we were supposed to eat at a specific floating restaurant as part of our package. As he drops us back off by boat at the dock, he asks what time we are coming down for lunch. We say 12:30, given it is noon already, although our schedule says lunch at 1pm. We are not sure why he asks, as the next activity – shooting the rapids – is at 2:30. We walk back to the dock after a quick shower at our room (did I mention the brutal heat? There really is no getting away from it in the jungle) and we sit down at a table at the floating restaurant for our lunch. Halfway across the river is Azli shouting at us to come over to “the island”, a man-made strip about the size of our driveway where his Dad is starting a river rafting business (the boats only arrived the day before). So we hop on a boat and over we go. Azli invites us up to where he eats lunch, and this woman (I thought it was his Mum, but it was not...another woman, with a daughter who had a cute little 2 year old) and there is this spread before us that is delicious. It is his Dad who is hosting us. Crispy green beans with chillies, crisp-fried mini fish (about 4 inches long, you eat the whole thing, it’s so crunchy), delicious chicken, rice and a massive pitcher of bright green ‘kiwi juice’ (the Malaysian version of Kool-Aid). We are famished after our hike and totally pig out, and they are all thrilled. We feel really really privileged to be invited here, and are now officially in love with Azli. I want to adopt him.



This was our delicious lunch at Azli's Dad's place

After our lunch, we hang out a bit with Azli, and then off we go on our rapids shooting. Not white water rafting exactly, but fun nonetheless. A smaller version of the longboat, and Azli zooming us through shallow rapids and generally getting us soaked. We stop for a swim at “the Tarzan ladder” and Azli teaches Jordan how to do a back flip into the water. (As a sidebar here, Jordan lets go of the ladder too soon on one attempt and lands crumpled in the shallow water, landing on his neck and knee and I have a near heart attack – I am sure all the Mums out there can relate). Azli also does a series of flips, while standing at the water’s edge, which he keeps saying are for Hannah. He holds up both boys, at different times, again showing them how to flip while in the water. For a break, he gets us all to sit at the water’s edge super still so we can feel the “spa fish” nibble our toes. And indeed they do. Hannah bursts out into a fit of endless giggles...she thinks this is hilarious. I am in heaven. It is another one of those fantastic parenting moments where you think how incredible this all is, and how incredibly lucky to be where we are, all by ourselves, splashing in a river in the rainforest in Malaysia. Oh, and yes, I too did the rope ladder Tarzan swing into the river, several times (you think I would miss that?) and my darling husband caught it all on video tape. No, it will not be posted on the web. Unless you offer a very large sum of money.



J & T doing the Tarzan thing



Jordan really splashing out

Sadly we head back; sadly, because our time with Azli is over. The kids make him a card back at the hotel room and we decide to give him one of our new MEC backpacks. He always has a backpack, of course, when he hikes with his groups, and he commented how he had had his since he was in grade 4. We noticed that all he carried in it was a spare t-shirt (yes, even the locals sweat as much in this jungle heat) and a bottle of water. So as we say our thank yous, we ask him what colour he would like: grey, orange or green. After much persisting, he finally agrees on the orange. Ali returns to the jetty around 5pm to meet Azli with the orange backpack and the card, as he is heading back to the village of Jerantut that night for his time off. The kids are thrilled, as are Ali and I.

So for me, yes all the jungle activities were amazing, but the real clincher was the short but genuine bond our family made with Azli. He enjoyed our family enough to invite us to his ‘home’. He was the big brother to our children for but a few days, but made quite the impression. Another occasion, I guess, where the Rojak kids seems to really catch certain Malaysians’ hearts.

Hannah parking her goofy self in front of the hotel

Sorry, couldn't resist. Wacky translations.

Jordan, way too stressed out on the whole trip.

Our super lovely (and fairly new, I suspect) Rainforest Resort.

Conclusion? If you ever get the chance to do Malaysia, do the jungle. It is superb. Well protected and well maintained. Hats off.

I drive us back to KL (I am really getting into this maniacal driving on the lefthand side – a great release of any tensions, I think. Oh, I’m sorry, did I cut you off there? Ah well, never mind; I’m sure you’ll do the same to me in 5 minutes).

Back at Base Camp (aka Allie and Anton's)

As you can see, none of the children really get along very well.

 So I have completely lost track of where I am supposed to be with this bloggery. Jordan has been writing like mad this morning before breakfast, so I am super excited to post his blog.

We got back late Sunday afternoon, and Ali gave his friend Richard a call. Richard is yet another member of the original KL brat pack of Ali, Allie, Mariam, Penny and Richard. Richard is originally from Scotland but has been living in Malaysia since the late 80s (Ali is a bit vague on these facts, so Richard, if you are reading this blog, feel free to bop him over the head next time you see him). Richard is married to Sharon, who is Malaysian, and they have Findlay who is 2. They immediately came over. A mini reunion for Ali, Allie and Richard, the three of them went off to get Chinese takeout for dinner, talking a blue streak. When they eventually got back, we all piled around the table and more stories were exchanged, with Richard keeping us in fits of laughter – he has your typical warped, joke-a-minute British sense of humour. It was really lovely and silly and I wish I could remember half of it.

Post-swim scarfing down of too-hot crispy springrolls

Monday – a hang out day, finally – and Allie and I took the kids to the ‘Club’ to swim in a series of pools with slides. Allie and I sat and drank coconut water from carved out coconuts (I know, it’s all really quite difficult, you know...I can feel the sympathy vibes from across the globe, really I can). The skies opened up with a massive storm after about an hour or so, so we ran into the covered restaurant and ordered a snack of spring rolls for the kids which seemed to disappear in two seconds. What spring rolls? I don’t remember seeing any springrolls. Just happy wet kids headfirst towards the middle of the table. Drove back home and made a simple pasta dinner for our hosts – a break from all the land of nasi (rice), chicken and fish. I got fresh basil, garlic, cashews, olive oil and yes, even romano, and made a batch of pesto. But I accidentally passed the fish section in the grocery store (called The Village Grocer – the selection and quality of which would put any Canadian store to shame) and couldn’t stop myself from picking up some rather large and ridiculously fresh prawns (at $5 a kilo). The extra cashews not used in the pesto landed in a frying pan in olive oil with garlic and a bunch of spices I found in a drawer (for the salad); they then lept out, making room for the fresh, head-on shrimp to soak up the remainder of the garlicky-spicy oil as a partner-in-crime for the pesto pasta. We also made a quick salad with sliced pears, thin strips of green mangoes, whatever greens I had found at the store, the spiced cashews and a dressing of sorts made from plum vinegar and bits of bottles found on the fridge door. (As some of you know, this is something I tend to do at other people’s houses and quite enjoy...finding odd sauces and mixing them all up). It all seemed edible in the end. Oh, we even found a loaf of sundried tomato bread in the adjacent bakery which was slathered with heavenly creamy organic butter. See what I mean? A  bit of straying from our Malaysianisms of the previous week, wot wot.

Anton and River having a lovely moment...

Tuesday was River’s birthday – he turned 10 at 5:45pm (I tried to wish him a happy birthday when he woke up, but he soon corrected me...what was I thinking?). Allie bought a leg of lamb for the auspicious occasion, and I was on deboning duty. With Allie and family off for lunch at her Mum’s house, we decided to head out as well for a bit of shopping, getting a ride to the rapid transit (metro) station from Anton who was on his way to the studio for a meeting. We went to the Central Market in KL – a stunning place full of fantastic shops and all sorts of lovely bits and pieces things. We all loved it. Upstairs was the ‘food court’, and again, it really makes our mall food courts an embarrassment. At this spot, anyway, the food court was done in stunning dark wood, super clean, not noisy, with big framed open ‘windows’ to look down on the indoor market area. We had a great time, although not enough time, so we promised ourselves we would come back next week to finish off our shopping list for friends back home.

Happy Birthday, River!

 Back at the home front later that afternoon, we jumped in the pool for a swim or hopped in the shower (something you are doing constantly here given the incredible heat and humidity) got the lamb deboned for Anton to grill on the ‘barbie’, and we gobbled it all up, with Allie’s apple, beet and cabbage coleslaw and Ali’s bbqed spuds and some Aussie cabernet sauvignon to wash it all down with. Ridiculously decadent, really. Crazy. But splashing-out-holiday-crazy in a good way. We gave River the game Upwords as a birthday prezzie  which the kids played while Allie, Anton and I hid chocolate Easter eggs (why not?). 110 chocolate eggs to be precise. Yes, counted so all would be found. Chocolate eggs, Malaysian heat... think about it. Then the kids had to divide them up fairly, keeping 12 each, the rest going to the shelter. Sweet.

The kitchen hub at Planet Morgan with superwoman Jatmi who kept everything in order

Lastly, Ali and Anton booted it over to Ali’s family’s house to get the van, because we were leaving for Taman Negara the next morning...early.

Goodbye Redang Island breeze...hello shopping town of Kuala Terengganu

Words of the Day: Berapa? Duapuloh lima ringgit? Ah, mahal, lah. Lapanbelas, can? (How much? 25 ringgit? Ah, expensive. 18, can?)

  

So, sadly we left Redang. Life was just too mellow and sweet there. Oh, get over it, Alison. We need to see more of Malaysia. A change is as good as a rest, as they say.

This is a postcard that Jordan made that Ali and I were both sad to actually see posted; so we photographed it as a keepsake. There is a logic puzzle (of course) on the back, related to the pictures.

KT is about half an hour south of Merang. I drive us there this time. (Ah, interesting thought here: left hand, not ok; left side of the road, ok.) We get to KT, drive around quite a bit, getting lost, and finally find the Sumai Apartment Hotel, where Ali’s sister Za’eemah is waiting for us. She has taken the overnight bus, and arrived there at 6am Friday morning. I park the van underground (wish I had taken a picture of how tiny parking spots are and how difficult it is to manoeuvre what seems like a massive van in a lego-sized lot) and we unload our bags in the lovely hotel room. We head out for a quick bit to eat, and then head to the Pasar Payang (market) to check out batik, clothing and food. Although there are a few sections and stall open, alas, it is Friday – the weekend – in KT, and most places are closed. (No replacement reading glasses for Ali yet). We get some batik and walk around, but then head back to the hotel after a couple of hours. We all agree on fish for dinner, so Za’eemah takes us to a delicious fish restaurant called Tenang, where you pick out your fresh fish and they either barbecue it, deepfry it or simmer it in broth. I suggest she choose some fish for us, so she chooses a local small fish (I think what we had on Redang) and some squid, and get it barbecued. The boys go for shrimp and noodles and chicken and noodles, and Jordan opts to try a scorching hot chilli that is in his noodles. (His choice.) Holy heat, Batman – but hats off to him for trying it. Za’eemah sweetly removes all the chillies and puts them on her plate, and also shells all Taz’s shrimp for him. Hannah has fish with the rest of us. We go back to the hotel and hang out, do some journal writing yet again and I upload the backlog of bloggery written while on Redang. We have tea. It’s all quite civil, really. And of course we all crash. Early.


Tenang Seafood Restaurant in KT



Selection of fish to choose from (squid on the right, not sure what fish was on the left)



Where the fish is bbqed, fried or steamed

All of us waiting for our dinner...

No Harrison to wake us up. No, the amplified call to prayer projected across the city from the mosque slightly too close to the hotel will do quite nicely. At 5am. I debate doing yoga out on the cement balcony treating it as a chant, but decide against it. I should have gone for it, in hind sight. Never mind. I get up instead and get on the computer, in the dark. Jordan wakes up an hour later – it’s still dark – and asks why I am not going to bed...too funny, as he thinks it is the night before. The hotel breakfast is delicious: all sorts of rice, noodles, fish, on-the-spot omelettes, fruit, you name it. All really well done. We sneak extra toast and kaya (coconut jam) back to the room for snacks later, if need be. Then we head out to, the Pasar Payang.

Hannah decides she is the new poster girl for Milo ice cream

Pasar Payang: Take II: Saturday. The place is open and swimming with shoppers. We all love it. Jordan says to me, “Shopping in Malaysia is so fun, Mama...I really don’t like shopping at home – it’s boring – but here it’s so different and so neat.” I couldn’t agree more. This is an indoor – but wall-less – market with two floors, tiny hallways and tiny shopping areas. Not sure what you would compare it to. A squished parking garage of sorts? Maybe the Byward Market Mall, but stores much much smaller and aisles for walking super tiny? Actually, maybe more like the Vorlage Christmas Fair. But again, much more chock-a-block. And every third or fourth ‘shop’ is another batik sarong shop and, I swear, if you think if you have seen one sarong pattern you have seen them all, think again. It is incredible just how many colour and pattern combinations there are. A bit like snowflakes. No two sarongs are alike. And they are all stunning. The shop owners are only too happy to barter. Super happy if you are a matsalleh doing it in Malay (numbers have all come back to me, thank goodness). And then, on two occasions, when I went to pay, they took another ringgit or two off. I would have happily paid the initial price. We got stunning sarongs, some gorgeous lime green batik material (Ali asked me later what I was going to make with the four metres I purchased; I responded with “I have no idea”). We also got some nutty t-shirts, and some beautiful shirts. And we bought some gula Melaka – palm sugar, in disc-shaped ‘pucks’ – freshly made.  This stuff is the maple syrup of Malaysia. Ali got so excited at how fresh it was. We bought 10 pucks. How Canadian of us. From a little old lady outside the market building. She had made it herself (it is a long process, much like maple syrup). As a result, Ali did not want to barter. He wanted to pay the full price she was asking (which was not expensive at all), since it was all going directly to her. Super sweet. On all fronts.

We also picked up longans, 4 types of mangoes (all delicious) and really good homemade banana chips for afternoon snacks.  We headed back to the hotel, super pleased with our shopping efforts. Oh, almost forgot, we picked up some totally funky pants and PJ bottoms for all of us. Love the patterns. Look out chicks in the sticks next year. I should be able to light the way to the outhouse with the pair I bought for myself.

Oh, almost forgot. The kids finally got to try durian. So what was the end result? Jordan thought it good and finished it, saying it tasted like a creamy onion; Taz said it was ok, and didn't finish it; poor Hannah gagged and had to spit it out before she vomited. And Alison, once again, still couldn't get close to it (it really, really stinks). Ali and Za'eemah loved it.

The Durian Man

The Scott-Talibs versus the Durian, Round 1.

Jordan tackles the durian, and wins.

We have dinner at the hotel, and it is delicious. The kids choose to eat there, and not walk anymore in the heat. I get it. Smart choice. We are the only customers in the restaurant and it works in our favour. We order all kinds of food, even lamb chops, and it is all yummy, well presented and well made. We head upstairs, to #407, chat a bit, have shower #536 (Malaysians shower all the time, given the heat), and crash. I have no issues falling asleep early (9pm) while cuddling with Hannah on our bed, knowing full well the Imam will be up once again at the crack of dawn belting out Allah’s greatest hits. Actually, before the crack of dawn. Harrison has his work cut out for him if he wants to compete with the Imam.

Sunday is a speedy and very wet – and somewhat scary – drive back to KL. The rain is intense, and Ali is going at breakneck speed. It scares the crap out of me, to be honest. We also pass two accidents, one that looks absolutely lethal (overturned car). Not very reassuring.  But as I write this we are half an hour outside of KL. Yes, I have been typing in the back of the van. And the laptop tells me I have 10% battery left, so suspect I will be cut off very soon. So how?

Get-to-the-point Malay English (Manglish) versus the Queen's English

I was wondering if you might possibly direct me as to how I might go about paying this parking ticket?

Malay: So how?                                                           

Would you be so kind as to join us this evening for a G&T poolside?

Malay: Can or not?

Why thank you, I would love to join you poolside for a G&T.

Malay: Can lah.

Such a shame, I don’t think I’ll be able to join you poolside this evening; sadly, I have a previous engagement.

Malay: Cannot lah.

Oh, Cedric, how on earth do you think we will find our way out of this traffic maze?

Malay: Where got?

I am afraid Penelope that, given this traffic this afternoon, the circumstances are beyond our control.

Malay: Wat to do?

Good Lord, look at that driver; he appears to be taking over the whole road.

Malay: You, ah...your grandfather own the road or what?

No, please, after all you’ve done for us, we’d love you to have this token of our appreciation.

Malay: Take lah. Take-take.

Oh, I’ve come across something absolutely delicious; I daresay, you really must try it.

Malay: Cuba try? (Cuba = ‘try’ in Malay, pronounced “chuba”)

Score: Malaysia 1, UK nil.

Funny and not-so-funny facts about Malaysia

This is us walking the streets of KT, about to drop by Ayamas (a chicken place) for lunch.

The weekends in the state of Terengganu are Friday and Saturday; everything is therefore closed on Friday. For the rest of Malaysia, weekends are Saturday and Sunday. Moral of the story? Saturdays are one big nation-wide zoo.

Do nothing with your left hand. Malaysians in general are very offended by this, east coast Malaysians even more so. Not such a big deal you think? Being lefthanded, not only do you need to remember to not eat with your left hand, but to not to use your left hand to pay for something, to receive something from someone, to point to something...

Ah yes, pointing in Malaysia. Yes, Virginia, there is an art to this too.  When you point, you simply make a fist, pressing your thumb flat on top and pointing it forward (the way one would hold the reins in English riding). Takes a bit of getting used to unless, of course, you’re under 12. In which case, you catch your parents doing it wrong and correct them. All the time.

Ali lost his reading glasses. Part of me was happy, because they seem to be permanently glued to the end of his nose, whether he is requires them or not, but the other part of me regretted that first thought as we were all soon inundated with “I don’t know” or “I can’t read it” during the entire stay at Redang. Anyway, interesting point here is that we went to an optometrist in KL to get a new pair, and the first thing she asked Ali was how old he was. And lo and behold there was a chart with ages...and matching prescriptions. Too funny. And dead on, I might add. 1.75 it is. Check it out.

Tea with susu manis (sweetened condensed milk) is totally delicious and addictive. And, for your travelling pleasure, it is available for take-out. So how? In a clear plastic bag, tied at one side at the top, straw sticking out the other side.

When it comes to rain in Malaysia, if the government put in one big central plug somewhere in the middle of the country, the entire nation could take one ginormous bath.

If you think you’ve seen some funky chip flavours, think again. Cheeky chicken, cuttlefish, cheezels, bbq tapioca, spicy curry (and you know it really will be), spicy tapioca...to name a few.

I get the squat toilets. I get the hose for washing yourself afterwards. I still don’t get the lack of drying. Yes, a few public washrooms have hand dryer machines. Yes, I’m pretty at yoga. But I do have some degree of decency, even as a matsalleh in Malaysia. I am not going into detail on this one. You figure it out. I just don’t get it.

When driving in Malaysia, make sure you come right up behind the person in front of you (especially if they are only doing 100kph on a narrow rural road), weave in  and out several times as if you are about to pass, please don’t signal, and then pass as you approach a corner. If you are driving a Lexus, BMW or Mercedes, do it really badly, faster and while talking on the cell phone.

Never use your car horn in Malaysia. I am guess it must be quite rude. Perhaps not using it is one of the laws of Islam, and secures your place in the next world. Just think: horn use = eating pork.

There is something quite sweet, in a Roald Dahl kind of way, about watching one brother hold the umbrella while the other pees at the edge of the roadside, partway into the jungle, in the middle of monsoon rains.

photos coming soon...and order of events

Hi again bloggroupies,

Just a quick note to say that the order to read that slew of blogs in...start with the Top Ten, then the Raju one, then the Driving one, and the last one is the Slow Boat one. I guess you have to actually read them from the bottom up. Apologies...wasn't sure how that would work, given I uploaded too many blogs at once.

Also, there are pictures coming, I promise. Have downloaded all our pics onto the hard drive, so now just have to pick and choose.

It is Saturday morning here and we are going to attempt more shopping (food, clothes and batik) -- the market here in KT is where it's at, apparently. Yesterday, everything was closed except for one market because here Friday and Saturday is the weekend, and Friday most places are closed (major stores, pharmacies, post office, etc). We had no idea! Doesnt't happen in KL because it is larger, more metropolitan city, but here Fridays and Saturdays are weekend, Sunday is considered first day of week.

Had a massive short rainstorm this morning, after waking up to the amplified call to prayer across the city, by the imam at 5am. I responded with a call to the laptop, in the dark, until the children woke up. So, as I mentioned, photos coming soon!!!

Big hugs to all,
Alison