Malacca

Malaysia

April 2007

MALAYSIA - MELACCA

Crossing the border from Singapore to Malaysia was a doddle. Except for when we turned up at the bus station half hour early and were informed that our bus had gone without us. We’d booked online the day before and nobody had thought to check the system. The lady called the bus and told it to drop its passengers at the border and come back for us. So we had a sixty seater coach all to ourselves, for the first leg of the journey… now that’s service.

Malaysia is very muti-racial and thus enjoys an interesting cultural diversity. This is not only due to the native Malays, immigrants from China, India, Indonesia but also the influence of much historic colonial rule from the Portuguese, Dutch and British. In short… a mixed bag.

Now being experienced travellers by now we knew to quickly check the DO’s and DON’Ts of the country before entry. The usual stuff applies such as that you shouldn’t steal, murder, kidnap or rape, but those trivial offences aside you also mustn’t point at anything or anyone with your right index finger! Bet you didn’t know that! It’s considered the height of rudeness. Also you should always pass objects and eat with your right hand, because the locals all wipe their bottoms with their left hand and if you think… why is that strange, its because no toilet paper is required.

Now this gets a little more bizarre in that these locals also seem to prefer to not have an actual toilet to sit on but would rather just a hole in the floor. We’d seen this in Uruguay in a few places but here it was rife. Every toilet, no matter if it was the dirtiest train station loo or plushest of little boys rooms in a five star hotel with gold leaf on the door handles… its still a hole in the floor. I could go on about how ludicrous this is but I’d probably blow a blood vessel so I’ll refrain. Nope I think I’ll continue…… Thankfully in most high end bathrooms you would get one European style toilet, but I still couldn’t fathom why anyone would rather squat uncomfortably doing some kind of balancing act when one could sit comfortably and read the paper. It gets even funnier when you spot feet marks on the toilet seats of a proper toilet or a DO NOT stand on the toilet sign…. Primates!

It turns out that it’s because they believe it to be unhygienic, to sit on the same seat as another mans bare bottom. OK fair enough, they have a point there…. So why then if they are so conscious of bugs, germs and cleanliness, do they insist on wiping their bottoms with their left hand! Why? When toilet paper makes life so much easier. Each toilet is also equipped with a small hose pipe and tap, so that after you’ve got your hand dirty you then I guess one handed, whilst squatting and your legs burning with pain, you then have to have a shower. This in turn floods the entire floor causing your shoes and fallen pants/trousers to get soaked. Again, why?

And then I read the last of the DO’s and DON’Ts and all became clear. Malaysia has a large Muslim population, so alcohol is forbidden. Forbidden! That explains everything. I think if we’d all been deprived of beer and wine all our lives I think we’d be crazy enough to start disregarding Andrex double quilted scented paper and preferring the softness of our own palm! Who knows?

Anyway besides all this we did spend a couple of days in Melacca on the way to the capital Kuala Lumpur. It was rather dull to be honest. We were situated next to a massive shopping centre so spent a day there. Sarah sung her little heart out in one of the karaoke booths and then with my ears still ringing we headed to play some ten-pin bowling. As usual the mandatory footwear are always excruciatingly tight or floppy like clown shoes but we had fun. I did OK in the first game once I’d gotten my eye in and then before we started our second game our adjacent lanes were taken up by people who knew what they were doing. They turned up, like Fred Flintstone, with their own bowling balls and soon started spinning the black sphere down the alley with the uptmost skill. Rather than applying all that spin and nonsense I opted for a straight down the line approach and was rather happy, when my half a dozen strikes and spares finished me on 135 and higher than any of King Pins either side. Nice!

With a good appetite we went in search of some traditional local cuisine but instead found Kenny Rogers Grill House. Not quite what we’d been looking for but the promise of steaming, crispy baked potatoes, submerged under a flood of beans and cheese we could hardly refuse. Yum!

The next day Sarah woke with an agonising shoulder, funnily enough in her non-bowling arm. But she put on a brave face as we spent the afternoon walking the local area, viewing yet more temples and landmarks. I’ve had more thrilling afternoons to be honest, so we were glad when the next day we were back on the bus, which had the decency to wait for us this time. I should think so too.