Malaysia

Selamat Datang!

I'm pretty sure that means Welcome in Malay, but please don't quote me; I could be wrong. So, I spent last week in Malaysia, which is a developing nation, and then I was driven across a bridge (through an immigration control point) and into Singapore, which is a fully developed nation and have been ruminating ever since. Well, actually, I've been eating and sleeping and shopping and working and other stuff as well; but in the back of my alleged mind, I have been thinking about the differences between these two countries which are separated by a bridge shorter than the Rainbow Bridge at Niagara Falls (between Canada and the US).

Singapore was once part of Malaysia and separated into its own city-state sometime in the last century (the 20th). They have since become quite 'westernized' and are just as developed as Japan is as far as developed nations in Asia go, and English is one of their official languages. In contrast, Malaysia is still very much a developing nation whose roads are in need of repair, and whose basic sanitation and infrastructure are much in need of development as evidenced by the general smell of most areas in the cities.

I've been to Malaysia thrice now; to two different cities and three different hotels. While they boast many western franchises (Starbuck's, KFC, Pizza Hut & McDonald's to name but a few), many people still live in what we would consider abject poverty. I am driven to work every day and I pass large 'terrace homes' (houses with yards) but I also pass rows of shacks that look as though they have grown up out of the dirt almost. They are only one story and they seem to be all joined together: whether out of necessity from a lack of structural integrity or from a sort of psychological feeling that there is a sort of comfort in closeness, I don't know. Once again, though, it's the discrepancy that gives me pause. The space taken up by one terrace home (including the yard) is about the same as the space needed for at least 20 or 30 shanties. Maybe even more, I can't always judge the depth very well, despite the cars in front of them.

So, I've determined that a good rule of thumb to judge the 'developedness' of a nation is not only the strength of its currency, but also what you can get at markets and for how much. In Singapore, you can't really get good cheap stuff in markets like you can in the other Asian countries I've been to... even Hong Kong. You can't haggle with them as much, and you can't get knock-off stuff. In the other Asian, developing, countries, you can bargain, you can get local trinkets, you can get black market knock-offs and you can get them all cheap. You can't do any of that in Japan either by the way.

So, Malaysia is a relatively low cost place to stay, they have Starbuck's (a plus), they have a Muslim government but it's not a fundamentalist government so you can still buy alcohol and I can still wander about freely (neutral). You cannot drink the water, but you can buy bottled water relatively inexpensively. It is HOT and incredibly humid (expect to shower twice a day, partly because the smell of the place clings to you). I was told by one of my hosts that it is relatively terrorist safe, because the terrorists come from Malaysia to terrorize other countries, they don't seem to bother their own people. Isn't that nice?

I almost forgot to mention that I finally had a slight hiccough entering a country! I flew to Singapore from Hong Kong, then was driven through immigration across the bridge to Malaysia. Apparently, the last time I left Malaysia in June, the immigration officer did not stamp my passport correctly and the immigration officer at the bridge checkpoint asked me to remove myself from the car and accompany him to his supervisor's office! Never before has anyone had a problem with my passport! I was aghast! Not only was this happening to me, but I had just spent the past 24 hours travelling, and I had not slept the night before. Needless to say, I was awfully tired and my eyes felt as though they were bleeding! So, the driver pulled the car over (out of the way of traffic) and parked in the place for bad people, and off I went to the supervisor's office (luckily the driver accompanied me because I clearly do not speak Malay nor Cantonese / Mandarin). I told them my sad story about the lax immigration officer at the airport in Kulim in June and the supervisory staff (four of them) ultimately decided to let me in because 'Canada is okay' according to them. They made a note in my passport and told me to make sure that my passport is stamped properly next time and let me go on my merry way.

However, this whole episode took about half an hour. It was midnight before we got back in the car and got on our way. There had been much discussion in Malay back and forth between the supervisory staff during this time. The driver would chime in every now and then, and occasionally they would ask me questions when they weren't staring at me. The leader of the group was busy being official and did not stare at me very much; he was clearly more concerned with his official duties and took his responsibilities seriously.

So, once we were back in the car and driving through customs, the customs official decided he wanted to look in my suitcase; the one that was locked. So I had to get out of the car and go around to the back to open up my suitcase. I, of course, complied. It was just a cursory examination, he didn't touch anything, he just wanted to look. It was a routine thing and he had no idea that we had just had to get interrogated by the crack staff of the immigration department. It was amusing to say the least.

Malaysia is fun... as long as you can avoid the stray dogs running around everywhere that is.

Ciao for now peoples,

Lesle, The Artful Traveller

ps - the immigration cards in Singapore also say Warning - Death for Drug Traffickers under Singapore Law in bright red letters!