Colours, Smells and Noise

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So Vietnam won the poll, for those of you that didn't spot my brief note at the bottom of the last entry. I've got a visa and have a flight booked as well, so I'll tell you all about it in another couple of weeks. But
first...

Kuala Lumpur

Dad was stationed in Singapore when he was in the Navy in the late 50's. He'll have had Chinese food for the first time, watched dragon-dances at New Year and been amazed at all the red lanterns, silks and gold embroidery around. In the days before cheap air travel allowed us all to go abroad for our holidays it must have been an incredible time for him. He brought some tastes home with him and I remember being the first kid in my class to use chopsticks and become familiar with Chinese food. Later when Dad remarried, Jean was a divorcee from a Chinese guy, so I acquired two half-Chinese step-brothers and a step-sister. So I've had some Chinese influences around me since before I can remember. For example: I know about the respect they have around rice. I think its a result of periods in their history when there was none. So: never plant chopsticks sticking up in the rice as that's how you serve it to a dead person. It's best not to point with your chopsticks or click them together unnecessarily as well.

So it is a pleasure to be back in Kuala Lumpur which is just up the road from Singapore, and I'm surrounded by Malaysians, Indians and of course Chinese. The place is a riot of colours, smells and noise. One minute its smoky exhausts, then curry from a street-stall, then a sewer, followed by sandalwood incense to indicate I'm passing a Chinese temple. There are women in the most colourful silks: Indian sarees, Chinese cheongsam, Malaysian baju kurung and a handful in black hijab too. But a lot also in Western gear: tight jeans and T-shirts (lots of LFC and MUFC logos on the guys too). All this to a soundtrack of badly-maintained buses that seem to only have 2 gears; loudspeakers broadcasting a muezzin call to prayer, shrieky-Indian and Chinese pop. And the street hawkers: in Chinatown's Petaling Street where you go to bargain over ripoff anything-you-want, it's "DVDs!, You want films?" from a guy holding out a ring binder full of paper slips from the DVD boxes; "Look, many titles, what film do you want?". I smile, wave a no-thanks and don't break my stride. He realises I'm not interested and to my back his last-chance line is "You want porn?".

The World is my classroom and from Malaysia it seems we can learn a lot about multi-culturalism. This place provides the best evidence I have yet seen that the BNP and their constituency are the frightened and ignorant. Us British; we're a first-world country and we had a third of the world's population under our power a hundred years ago so we're used to telling everybody else how to do it. But it seems we're still getting to grips with multiculturalism, while the Malaysians appear to have already figured out the best way to get by is, to get on. If I open the local newspaper I don't see any stories about racial attacks or hate-crimes here. Sure, the Indian caste system still makes itself apparent when there's a marriage in the offing. And The native Malay's aren't able to open a business selling alcohol because they're all meant to be Muslim, so the few that are Christian find their hands tied somewhat. And the Chinese dominate the businesses in contrast to the native Malays who dominate government, so there's a little disgruntlement there maybe. But where it matters, for me walking around, it looks like the biggest happy family. I don't see any of them arguing about who's faith or ideas are superior. Maybe we just need more time in the UK. We've only had mass immigration since the late 1940's. "But that is not a very long time, Martin" said Sharol, explaining how long Malayisa's been a mixed country.

I was here once before on business, but it was just for a week and I only got a brief look around during the evenings. So it was good to catch up with Sharol, Mike and Ranjanee again. Kuala Lumpur is changing very fast: around Bukit Bintang there's new shopping malls with Prada and Versace, swiss-watch manufacturers I've never heard of and even a Jaguar dealership in one. The traffic is gridlocked at rush-hour so the moped is the best bet for getting anywhere fast. Does your mp3 player have a microphone built-in? Kuala Lumpur makes for some interesting 'field-recordings' to accompany the photographs and the stuff I'm writing down in my notebook. Just wear some quiet shoes so you don't end up on your own soundtrack, and walk around for 10 minutes. I'm not sure if I'll play them much when I get home, but they'll be there if I can think of a use for them.

One of the things I found this time is a nice oasis of calm in the oldest mosque in the city: Masjid Jamek was built in 1907, is halfway between Chinatown and Little India and just over the road from the LRT and metro stations with the same name. Robes are available to cover up if you have come in the wrong clothes: no bare legs, arms or shoulders please and women should bring a scarf to cover their heads as well. Inside, the place was full of people lying down on the cool marble, apparently sleeping. I joined them. Nobody was saying prayers and the place was quiet though a hundred metres away was the sound of traffic. I woke with the sound of rain. Checked my watch: just 30 minutes later. I grabbed my gear but I was too late. Within two minutes the gutters were rivers wider than I could jump, so I got soaked walking back to my digs just 5 minutes away. It took 2 days for my sandals to dry out properly because it rained the next day too. It rains a lot here, though it's not yet monsoon which is normally from June to October so that's when it gets biblical. The sticky humidity is the killer here and any rainshower freshens it up. Somewhat.

Back at the hostel I told people I'd found this great place but then a couple of days later one of the other guys in the hostel got waved off from lying down. He'd gone in shorts and a T-shirt so had to cover up with one of the purple robes so he clearly wasn't a muslim (had fair hair as well). I must look like one of them. Maybe it was the sun-tan I'd picked up in Perth and several days of growth.

Thaipusam Festival at Batu Caves

At the edge of town, 13km North of Kuala Lumpur are some magnificent caves high up in a limestone cliff, inhabited by macaque monkeys. Inside the caves is a temple which marks the finish point for those that make the journey from the city centre to mark the Hindu Thaipusam festival and honour the deity Lord Murugan.

There are numerous legends around Lord Murugan, but one has it the servant Idumban wanted to bathe him in milk, so slung two pots on a stick across his shoulders and walked up the hill. Thus a festival was born and it is celebrated on the 3 days around the full moon in January/February. Some Hindus make a vow to Lord Murugan for a prayer to be answered, maybe success for an exam or for someone ill to recover, and dedicate a kavadi in return. The best way I can think of to describe a kavadi is to imagine a metal frame about 6 foot across and also high, tiered like a wedding cake, decorated with pictures and peacock feathers. They are home-made and are heavy, most of the ones I saw were made from racking welded together. The kavadi is carried from the centre of Kuala Lumpur the whole 13km to the temple in Batu Cave. And the guys dance as they go. Each is accompanied by an entrourage of family and friends to urge them on, provide water, food, play drums and part the crowd ahead. One carries a stool so the pilgrim can rest, which happens often because of the heat and the press of the crowd regularly brings the whole procession to a stop.

Not finished yet though: as well as the peacock feathers, Lord Murugan's other symbol is the heart-shaped tip of his spear - his Vel. So they pierce themselves, some through the cheeks and forehead with vel-shaped pins and rods, others a disturbing number of times with chains attached to the kavadi they are carrying. Some pull rather than carry, by hooks through their backs - I saw one guy in a frame entirely suspended by hooks through his arms, legs and back, being wheeled and carried by his friends.

This procession from the middle of town, up the 272 steps to the cave comes as the final act in a month or more of abstinence. It varies from person to person, but generally no alcohol, meat, coffee or tea is taken, all in the name of overcoming one's ego. Humility is a virtue and that's what they try to achieve, so they wear simple clothes and either they do not cut or stlye their hair, or just shave it all off. Losing your temper is out too, and possibly sex as well. Not everybody goes for the whole kavadi & piercing thing; most women will carry a pot of milk on their head but they might also have their heads shaved for the big day.

And so they set out from the middle of town, under midday 32°C heat and 80% humidity of the equator. As the pilgrims get to the Batu Caves, the way becomes choked with the crowd, there are tens of thousands here. There are stalls selling food and drink, some selling religious items and a few just shaving people's heads. There were plenty of Chinese and native Malay muslims there as too, they were all clicking cameras just like me. The pilgrims were happy to oblige with photos - the family members would make a space for me to get in and shoot, as long as I didn't impede their way forward, so everything was very friendly. With the press of the crowd and the stream of faithful making their way, the procession frequently stopped whilst the way ahead cleared, so out would come the stool and more water to a very tired man or woman.

I've never seen anything like it. Runners that hang their heads after a marathon and footballers that lie down after extra time can't compete with this. It can be quite moving to see the state of collapse some people get to so they can achieve the dream of a gold medal or a world title. I've shot some video which is too big to post, but it's the only thing I can think of that might show you how much effort this lot went through.

I saw several wilt along the way. Inside the relative cool of the cave, there was one guy lying on the floor with his family around, encouraging him for one last push up the final few dozen steps to the end. Red Crescent medics were at the ready too. He took a few minutes about it, getting to his feet as if drugged with eyes that were clearly not focusing. It wasn't my place to intrude but I wanted him to succeed too, he'd come so far! and I found myself stopped, waiting to see if he could made it, thinking C'mon! It's not far!.

At the top they break coconuts, I didn't figure out why. The shrine isn't much of a place but the cave itself is spectacular. After that, they trudge down, still carrying the kavadi - there's no storage place to put them. Presumably one stashes a truck nearby to drive the thing and its carrier home, rather than make them walk all the way back. I came back down the steps taking my last few photographs and looked for a bus. After a day outside in the sun I felt hot and sweaty too. But mostly I felt lazy.

Melaka, Cameron Highlands and Pulau Pangkor

Pudararaya Bus station is the gateway to the rest of peninsular Malaysia and from there I caught buses to my other destinations. It's a busy terminal with ticket booths inside for the different coach companies, with hawkers out in front. You will be asked by more than one "Where are you going?" and they direct you to a booth, but likely there will be other companies going to the same place at a different time for a different price, so don't commit to the first one you see. Once you leave the capital the pace of life is slower, and there are no more shopping malls, or at least not like in the big smoke.

The Cameron Highlands are 4 hours North of the capital at 1,500m altitude where it is cooler. It's where the tea comes from, and also this month's panoramic picture up at the top. It's got a very chilled out and restful air. I loved it there: loved the Roti Canai Bom (sweet flatbread) I found you could get for breakfast, loved walking through the jungle although it was ridiculously hot during the day, and I loved that it got cold at night, which made a welcome change from the heat of KL.

Melaka is a couple of hours South of KL on the coast, and has in its time been Persian, Portugese, Dutch, British, Japanese, then British again, then Malaysian after independence. Chinatown is charming though the rest of the town is unremarkable. Crammed with museums, one of which is the "Museum of Enduring Beauty", full of photographs and exhibits of the disfigurements people have done to themselves in the name of beauty: lip-plates, nose-rings, corsets, foot-binding, neck-rings, lip-studs, scarification and tattoos. It's in a very badly air-conditioned building, up a stairs which is hard to find, but worth the visit if only to learn one interesting fact: The fashion for boned corsets in the 1800's which eventually became so constricting that women couldn't breathe, only gave way when British traders took Malaysian rubber home and the clothing industry "Hey, we can use this!" and came up with elastic.

And Pulau Pangkor: I know you're going to roll your eyes, I know back in the UK you're living through the coldest Winter in more than 10 years and it seems like it's been snowing for months. I don't want to rub it in - I'm giving you this as a suggestion to treat yourselves and get a break from it. Come to Pulau Pangkor. Fly into KL, then get the bus from Puduraya to Lumut, 4 hours up the West Coast, then ferry to the island. Then chill, for as many days as you need to. There is just one package company resort at the North end of the island, but the rest is all pleasantly under-developed. I stayed at Teluk Nipah where the beach has hammocks and rope-swings, is half a mile long and had just 30 people on it. There are Great Hornbills and monkeys in the trees; the water is emerald green and I liked it so much I will be going back. Plent of huts and chalets there if, like me, you're on a budget. Plenty of information at Pulau Pangkor.

Where are the Americans?

I've been thinking about this for some time, but I'm going to mention it now. I don't want to offend people, but I think it's worth pointing out. I am meeting Canadians, Australians, Germans, Dutch and fellow-Brits in every country I've been to, but no Americans. Where are the American travellers? They can't use the recession and exchange rate excuse; the Canadians and Aussies are in a worse situation and that's not stopping them (never listen to an Australian take the p**s again about whingeing poms by the way, I've hadn't heard so much moaning in a long time until I got to Japan and and all of them, all of them, felt it necessary to mention how far their money wasn't going).

But the Americans: I can't help but wonder if they're doing themselves the biggest harm. Back in Seattle I had a conversation with a guy who was quite pleased with himself for having ticked off more than 40 of the 50 states. He was astounded at the amount of travelling I have done in my time and I don't feel particularly well-travelled - I've never been near Africa, and have barely touched South America and South-East Asia. I couldn't help wondering why he hadn't put that same effort into getting a passport and spending some time outside his own country.

My experience is just anecdotal; somewhere I know there are American backpackers. I did meet some Americans sitting in Sydney having coffee just beside the Opera House but they'd just stepped off a big cruise ship across the quay that was making the whole place dark. Nothing wrong with cruising by the way, I know a couple of you that are fans. And I have been on a couple of package holidays myself before now.

But there's no denying package holidays insulate you somewhat from the place you're in. For example: find an alleyway anywhere in KL's Chinatown or Little India. In nearly every one, there will be a portable rig containing a gas bottle and cooking ring, with plastic tables and chairs. They bring in their own water in drums and the drain is the gutter. After 10pm when they have packed up and gone home to sleep the alleyway is the domain of rats and cockroaches searching for food that wasn't swept up carefully enough - the place wouldn't survive a visit by the environmental health. But in the main they serve good food. But if while I eat at one of these places a couple of very young Indian boys with big, round, black eyes that would melt your resolve come over to stand in silence with palms held out, then I have just learned 2 things about this country.

And just as I'm about to head out to the airport for my flight to Ho Chi Minh city, I learned one more: what was I saying up above about multi-culturalism? It's a muslim state, but some bells just rang out from a christian church I didn't realise was there, just 300 yards away. Around every corner, something unexpected.

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Photos

Kuala Lumpur: Chinese New Year
It's the Year of the Ox, so Happy New Year. These guys were balancing on top of poles and throwing firecrackers around and dancing in the shops in Kuala Lumpur's Chinatown to bring good luck to the businesses there.

Chinese New Year lanterns in Bukit Bintang
Bukit Bintang is the bit where you'll see the most Westerners. There are some fancy hotels and about half a dozen huge shopping malls all within a few hundred metres of each other. And there's money around too judging by some of the names in there: Versace, Prada, Dunhill, even a Jaguar dealership in one.

Masjid Jamek Mosque
Just over the road from the Masjid Jamek LRT (the metro station, near Chinatown) is the Masjid Jamek mosque, full of people lying down on the cool marble, sleeping.

Kuala Lumpur: Butterfly Park II
I can't identify this one. Anyone help?

Smiles, even from the Islamic girls
We're used to images of 'no-fun' Islam in the UK what with all the stuff the news feeds us lately. So I thought I should point out I have been nowhere else in the world where people smile at me so easily. Even the Islamic women, whom in other countries might be forced to wear a hijab and forgo education. This lot have just stepped outside their local University and the one in the middle spotted me with a camera and broke into the biggest smile then turned to tell her friends.

Masjid Negara mosque I
The Masjid Jamek mosque (above) was superseded by the larger Masjid Negara in 1965. It was commissioned after Malaysia's independance from the UK crown in 1957. It provides a good lesson in Islamic art because it is taboo in Islam to represent the human, animal or plant form - it would be seen as a blasphemy since no human could possibly improve upon Allah's work.

Masjid Negara mosque II
Because of this taboo, Islamic artists have throughout the centuries come up with the most intricate geometrical patterns, sometimes involving fractal mathematics. Geometry is a branch of mathematics and indeed; we still refer to our 1 to 9 written numerals as [i]arabic[/i] numbers because we were given them by islamic scholars about a thousand years ago.

Batu Caves: Thaipusam Festival I
There are 272 steps from the street up to Batu Cave and the shrine to Lord Murugan. Down below is a crowd of tens of thousands, with a few thousand more in the caves too. That peacock feathered contraption on the right is a kavadi being carried by one of the pilgrims.

Thaipusam Festival II - front view
These guys with the tongues out are towing that giant-cake shaped thing behind them. And that's not blood on his face, I think it's ash, or just powdered dye but I don't understand its significance.

Thaipusam Festival III - back view
But they were towing it with hooks through their backs. They must be using acupressure meridians as they profess not to feel, and indeed didn't appear to be in any, pain from the hooks. The physical exertion of the journey certainly took its toll on many, though.

Thaipusam Festival IV
The pilgrimage is not restricted to men only. This woman had her cheeks pierced by a rod and was carrying a pot of milk heavily ornamented with flowers.

Thaipusam Festival V
There were some truly outlandish methods to pay tribute to Lord Murugan, such as this guy, who had clearly walked the whole distance on blades.

Thaipusam Festival VI
Others that did not wish to make the personal commitment to fasting, abstinence and the exhaustion of carrying a [i]kavadi[/i] could merely shave their heads at a number of stalls on the approach to the Batu Caves. This too, wasn't limited to the guys, a few women had been shaven also.

Pulau Pangkor: Locals playing in the surf
After 6pm when the tourists leave the beach to shower but before they head out for food, the local boys and girls throw themselves into the water to cool down after a day manning the stalls and cafes.

Gekko at the inn on Pulau Pangkor Island
I recommend a few days on Pulau Pangkor next time anyone's here. It slowed my pulse right down and I am no longer British Milk-Bottle white.

Mosquito Repellent
This one only has 15% DEET. I have looked for, but could not find, an [i]extra[/i] strength version as I wondered what they would call it.

Comments

[liliram]

Fascinating!
Checked out your other blogs, and found them all fascinating. Have fun on your trips, and thanks for the lessons on how to use the chopsticks!

[Dovie]

Loving the commentary
I forget that I'm missing these little travel updates until I get a new one, and then I force myself to wait to read it until I can really enjoy your writing and pictures. And then I'm immediately sad that it will surely be a while before I get another update. Looking forward to the next...