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Published: February 13th 2008
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Causeway From Singapore to Malaysia.
It is very exciting to go across borders. My grandfather, on the rare occasions when he would talk about WW I, sometimes used the expression "parlez-vous the ding-dong". Unilingual Canadian soldiers in France and Belgium often were asked "parlez-vous francais?", from which arose "parlez-vous the ding-dong" as an idiom to mean "the ability to speak another language".
Well, I could live in Taiwan the rest of my life and never parlez-vous the ding-dong, but Malaysia is another story. The odd time I have to make up an English aide-memoire, but for the most part the language is fairly easy with lots of cognates--not to mention the fact that Malay is phonetic and they use the Roman alphabet. So, it is easy to pick up:
1. teksi (taxi)
2. fon (telephone)
3. motosikal (scooter)
4. bas (bus)
Mind you, every once in a while I get faked out, such as thinking that "bas sekhola" meant "bus for suckholes" instead of "school bus".
I used the mental note "Terry McCassie" to help me remember that "terima kasih" means "thank you"--"sama sama" (you're welcome) is a freebee after that. Similarly, "le lackey" (lelaki) means "male" and "Juanita" (wanita) means "female.". You need that in order to tell the
View from the Bus
Long distance bus journeys in Canada tend to be boring and uncomfortable. This one was great! "tandas" apart.
However, I suppose I should put things in order, and tell my readers how we got to Kuala Lumpur in the first place--we decided to take a bus. Not just any bus! Entertain conjecture of a Greyhound type of thing, but with the seats upstairs. The "ground floor" was a sleeping area for a second driver to zizz down, a meeting room, and a karaoke lounge. I'm not kidding! I was half expecting to see a bowling alley and a swimming pool as well. There was only one seat on each side of the aisle--a leather reclining Lazy Boy type, with a massage unit, a TV screen with a choice of movies, a blankey against the air-con, and a hot lunch. The trip took five hours through the rolling countryside, and we were almost sorry to arrive. There again, how could anyone be sorry to arrive in the City of Lights and Gardens?
I'm pretty good at figuring out international road signs, but I was defeated by one that showed a rained-on umbrella and a guy on a motorbike--a symbol that shelter against monsoon rain was provided under the next flyover (overpass). It rains like a
fire hose here, but only for fifteen minutes or so and then the sun comes back out. From the causeway joining Singapore to Malaysia, it's all freeway to KL, with countless hectares of farmed coconut trees. Palm oil is a huge export.
TV the world over is often a waste of electrons, and Malaysia is no exception. I flicked through the remote one morning, and came upon a musical show--sort of rock style love songs by a female singer with her limbs and head covered, and a gaggle of similarly-garbed dancers. Their moves were very similar to western-style song-and-dance, in that the seizures could no doubt be controlled with appropriate medication.
Here and there on the streets you might see a veiled-up Muslim woman dressed head-to-toe in black, but Malaysian Muslims seem a tolerant and accepting bunch. The women wear headscarves and long sleeves and long pants or gowns, but they dress in bright and attractive colours.
First on the order of business was a trip to the top of the KL Tower. It gave us a good orientation to the place, and to see just how wonderfully green and clean the city is. We had our
Ceremonial Guard at the Royal Palace.
The grounds were closed to the public. pictures taken in traditional Malay clothing, which is as close to being a Sultan as I will ever be.
We also saw the Petronas Towers. Mind you, it is quite difficult to miss them. On our first night in KL, we turned off the lights in our room and watched a spectacular thunderstorm with lightning crackling behind the towers.
"Petronas". by the way, is the national petroleum company in Malaysia--sort of like CPC in Taiwan and Petro Canada at home.
We certainly had wonderful meals in KL, but the highlight was a Lebanese feast of kebabs and salad on the mezzanine floor of the Petronas Towers.
I suppose it’s kind of touristy, but we think it is a good idea to get a city tour. We went to the Royal Palace (Malaysia has a king chosen from among the Sultans from the provinces--sort of like Governors-General and Lieutenant Governors in Canada), the War Memorial (for the two world wars and "The Emergency", the National Museum and the National Mosque, the old colonial buildings, and the meeting of the muddy waters from which Kuala Lumpur derives its name. Kuala Lumpur in Malaysia and Kamloops in British Columbia
Times are Tough...
...so I had to moonlight as a stable boy. therefore have in common that the name means “meeting of the waters”.
We hired a car and a driver, and went on a three-hour (each way) trip to the Cameron Highlands. It's lovely and cool up in the hills, and the tea plantations were beautiful.
The highlight of the trips was Melaka-a historical old seaport that was at various times Sumatran, Portuguese, Dutch, British, and now Malaysian. It is right on the strait--only 100 km across to Sumatra in Indonesia. There are beautiful old buildings and forts, you can bet the joint jumps at night, and I tried and failed to get a picture of a monitor lizard (at least 1 m long), swimming in the river .
There is wonderful Indian food in KL, but a lot of the places are Muslim and you can’t get a drink. There was also an entire street of hawker stalls selling wonderful Chinese fare. I know that a “hawker” is a person who sells something on the street, but that didn’t stop me from laughing when I read that a hawker in Hong Kong was recently fined 500 HKD for spitting on a constable. Sometimes non-verbal communication is useful,
It's Easy to Figure Out Malay...
...even without the English translation. and sometimes not.
We stayed at the Istana (palace) hotel, right by the monorail and within sight of the Petronas Towers. The interior of the hotel was fashioned after a Moorish style, the outdoor pool was warm all day, and the breakfast buffet (despite no pork at all) was outstanding.
All good things must come to an end, but I guess there are worse ways to end something than getting a taxi to the airport for a flight to Thailand. It was only two hours to Chiang Mai, where Lau-puo has wanted to go ever since we first moved to Asia. For my part, I’m game for anything—especially if it involves anything Thai.
However, by the end of the trip (and as much as I enjoyed Chiang Mai) I decided that Thailand is for people who don’t know about Malaysia.
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