By now I've gotten used to KL's semi-chaotic feel: it's also metaphorically somewhere between the cowboy-town of Bangkok and the Swisswatch-like order of Singapore. This morning, for example, I wasn't especially startled when, on my way to the SLA office, my cab driver yanked the wheel clockwise and into the oncoming traffic, to avoid the queue at the traffic lights. The rattling buses and lorries barely bothered hooting – this is unexceptional behaviour over here.
“Where you from?” asks my friendly cab driver, turning around to look at me. At the moment we're driving on the normal, left-hand side of the road – he needn't focus on the road ahead quite as much.
“Seth Africa. Erm, you know, World Cup” I reply, cautiously.
His expression is one of: 'but, but, you're not blick'. Never mind that the biggest bicycle race in Asia, the Tour de Langkawi, is happening in Malaysia right now. And the South African team is leading at the moment, and all of Europe contributed to their make-up. No, like many of my driver's compatriots, I too am erstwhile British colonial detritus.
Over 30%, a large chuck, of my man's countrymen are made up of ethic Indians and Chinese. (They lend weight to that dreadful “Malaysia, truly Asia” tourist-ad jingle that jars on CNN.) And all these cultures seem to compete to be heard over each other. In January, we had the Tamil festival of Thaipusam; which is partially banned in India itself due to some of the devotee's practises such as sticking horrendous numbers of pins and hooks through their own cheeks & flesh. February was all dragon dancing, red lanterns and Chinese New Year, and KL came to a stop as all many of the Chinese went back to their family kampung.
My driver is Malay, I can tell. Not only from his looks, but from his dress and the Arabic calligraphy dangling from the rear-view mirror. Malay, by definition, is both an ethnicity and a religion. And together with what are considered the true natives, the Orang Asli, they form a racial group called the Bumiputera who occupy a “special position” in the Malaysian constitution.
Racial politics aside, this mix of people makes for extraordinarily good grub – as each culture seems to vie for making the tastiest food. In addition to the traditional Malay cooking (such as the banana-leaf wrapped Nasi Lemak), the south Indian food (like Masala Dhosa), and the differing Chinese traditions (Bak kut teh, Hokkien Mee, Char key teow), we've got all the other Asian style right on our doorstep: Thai, Vietnamese, Japanese, and so on. As expats living in KL, we are completely spoilt for food.
I suspect we've acquired a self-concious swagger as we walk into a road-side Mamak eatery, flop down and order two Roti Chenai, and Teh Tarik to drink, please; and see Western tourists, inevitably in shorts and Tevas, pouring desperately over an unfathomable menu. During our many long weekends (almost all the different religions have official holidays), we head up to places like Langkawi and Phuket, drop that Tuan Jim thing, and hang-out with those people, acting like tourists abroad again ourselves.
Racial politics aside, this mix of people makes for extraordinarily good grub – as each culture seems to vie for making the tastiest food. In addition to the traditional Malay cooking (such as the banana-leaf wrapped Nasi Lemak), the south Indian food (like Masala Dhosa), and the differing Chinese traditions (Bak kut teh, Hokkien Mee, Char key teow), we've got all the other Asian style right on our doorstep: Thai, Vietnamese, Japanese, and so on. As expats living in KL, we are completely spoilt for food.
I suspect we've acquired a self-concious swagger as we walk into a road-side Mamak eatery, flop down and order two Roti Chenai, and Teh Tarik to drink, please; and see Western tourists, inevitably in shorts and Tevas, pouring desperately over an unfathomable menu. During our many long weekends (almost all the different religions have official holidays), we head up to places like Langkawi and Phuket, drop that Tuan Jim thing, and hang-out with those people, acting like tourists abroad again ourselves.
