Leaving the place of the darndest things

Well, the time has come to bid farewell to Subang Jaya... for now. Returning home after living overseas always seems to give mixed feelings. On the one hand you're obviously excited to be going back to what you know and miss. But on the other hand, you're leaving a place you've just begun to feel apart of.

Before leaving I managed to acquire (with the help of a friend) a book which I first saw in a book store in Borneo; Malaysian Politicians Say the Darndest Things. It just goes to show that I've still got a lot to learn about Malaysia. Not that I know that much, but I was just surprised to see a book like this even on sale.

Here's something I definitely wouldn't have heard someone say on the street. Selangor Chief Minister Mohd Khir Toyo said, "Malaysian men are easy to service. [Their] libido lasts only five minutes. A shorter period would mean more customers and that makes it more lucrative for the sex workers to conduct their activities here." This was supposed to explain why there are foreign prostitutes in Malaysia. Coming from a country where an aggressive handshake can have an effect on your political career, this sort of comment seems otherworldly.

Whilst it seems Australians can be very sensitively politically correct about charities, political correctness didn't seem to bother one Malaysian politician. Kelantan Chief Minister, Nik Aziz Nik Mat is quoted as saying, "Only women who are not pretty (kurang rupawan) should be employed by the State government, as these women would not be able to get rich husbands who can support them financially."

From my experiences these quotes don't represent the views of the Malaysian population but are more of a very tenuous link. Speaking of tenuous links, try figuring this out:

"All bloggers are liars, they cheat people using all kinds of methods. From my understanding, out of 10,000 unemployed bloggers, 8,000 are women. Bloggers like to spread rumours, they don't like national unity. Today our country has achievements because we are tolerant and compromising. Otherwise we will have a civil war. Malays will kill Chinese, Chinese will kill Malays, Indians will kill everybody else."

And all because of bloggers.

Skip to the end: I left KL and read a book about Malaysian politics.

Bamako...

It almost seems like a city. It’s definitely not a quaint country village of mud-brick houses and women singing as they collectively pound a harvest of millet. There are lots of people, noise and things happening; I notice some goats trying to have sex as I walk down the street.

Given my experiences in Ouagadougou I didn’t think it would be hard to change money. The first time I had wandered around the centre-ville I went to a Western Union who didn’t change money, and another place that didn’t have Euros. Kind people at both establishments directed me to places that didn’t seem to exist; such seems to be the way in West Africa.

Now on my second outing (after having retreated to the less stressful confines of my accommodation with some actual Juicy Fruit) I stumble into an Ecobank which even has Bureau d’Échange written on its exterior. Alas, they are a new bank without any money changing facilities as of yet. They direct me next door... who are closed.

Venturing back to surety again, along the dusty, bumpy thoroughfares known as streets, I am surprised by the relative lack of people trying to forcefully incite me to make a purchase. I pass a beggar whose ailments appear stronger than he. I wonder what he hopes for.

Crossing the road a friendly voice penetrates my insular thoughts. I am reminded that you need to cross quickly as the roads are busy; I am reminded that people still live here.

Skip to the end: Describing a day in the Malian capital.

That's a Krabi joke!

I did it. I recently bought a tie from Thailand! Whilst north of the border, me and my esteemed colleague, Lee 'is my first name and I'm not in any way Chinese' Taylor, couldn't help but notice the number of mildly amusing place names that the country where you don't even vaguely joke about the king has to offer: Bangkok, Krabi, Phuket and Phi Phi Island (pronounced pee pee).


So, doing our best impression of 'Aussie' tourists, sitting on the beach sipping at a 20 baht long-neck of what we assumed to be very bad goon (after being surprised to discover it's distinctly non beer like qualities), we tried to come up with stupid things to do in places that weren't afforded names of such obvious comic value.

Here goes:

-Buy a new jumper in New Jersey.
-Go out by yourself in Barcelona.
-Reserve a place to stay in Bucharest.
-Annoy some Buddhists in Budapest.
-Tell your girlfriend to hurry up in Russia.
-Block a river with a hampster in Amsterdam.
-Explain that it's actually your girlfriend's drink in Serbia.
-Explain to your travel buddies that you've arrived in Syria.
-Find someone to con in Osaka.
-Agree with someone in Yeman.
-Piss someone off in Hanoi.
-Tell people that you've left, albeit ungrammatically, in Saigon.
-Buy cheese from Delhi.
-Purchase a folder from Manila.
-Commit beastiality in Kathmandu.
-Shake your arse in Djibouti.
-Be friendly in Nice.
-Have a bite in München.
-Watch the tennis in Tennessee.
-Study Islam in Whyalla.
-Finish a meal in Dunedin.

Anyway, you get the point. I best stop now.

Skip to the end: Some krabi place name puns.