Uncle Francis, my dad’s old school friend, was kind enough to lend his chauffeur to us for the day. His chauffeur’s name is Azlin. He is the sweetest, most amiable chauffeur I’ve ever met. Well, that’s to say, I’ve never really met many chauffeurs in my lifetime. He has five children and calls his wife Lovely. That is enough to win me over. He drove us over to Kuala Lumpur City Centre where we shopped and he picked us up again to go to Pavilion shopping mall.
We went to the famous Petaling Street Market where vendors crammed their little shops beside one another in messy rows. They sold everything under the sun: souvenirs, toys, food, clothing, etc. Chinese red lanter
ns zigzagged throughout the market on string tied onto poles. Scooters were parked in odd places in alleyways. Many backpackers travel to see this specific destination where you barter for prices of items. Plants and moss crept along the walls of old colourful stucco buildings. Traffic was hell. It was 10 times worse than being in Vancouver during rush hour. My family and I befriended a newlywed couple sitting by a durian stand, who came to Malaysia specifically for this fruit. They were Australians travelling all of Asia. Durian has a creamy texture and has a unique taste. I like it. They shared some with my dad. Suddenly, roaring thunder cracked and rain began to fall as we ran for cover. The rain was soothing in the humid heat.At the indoor market I took a keen observation of the cultural workers, the Bahasa (Malay) accent, and the traditional clothing. I began to see a resemblance between Malaysia and Canada in how they are so multicultural. (Let me not lead you to believe that Malaysia’s political system is anything remotely close to Canada’s… I’ve realized how fortunate and blessed I am to live in Canada after hearing and witnessing the corruption from the government in everyday life, the extreme censorship, the cheating educational system, and the obvious discrimination that still exists. I wonder if my blog post will be censored from writing this… anyway, I’m drifting away from my point.) Malaysia incorporates Indian, Arab, and Chinese tradition into their clothing, their language, and incredible food. Malaysia with its palm trees, butterflies, birds, and radiating sun reminds me of Hawaii. Malays look like they are Filipino. And here I am: a Chinese hyphenated Malaysian hyphenated Canadian. I am beginning to really confuse myself as to what my parents consider as their true culture. I’m grateful that I can say I have many cultures that make up who I am. I am also quite curious to meet more of my extended family living in Singapore and Australia in the next weeks ahead of me.
For supper, we ate basically in an undercover alley for dinner. The tile floor was slippery from the rain outside and a metal fan blew grime into our faces. My sister told me it had good ratings in the Malay newspapers, so we trusted her. We ate stingray served with chilli sauce. Yes, you heard me. Stingray- I feel so invincible right now. It was dingy and delicious. My tongue started to swell up and lightning bolts shot out of my mouth. Just kidding, it just tasted like fish. I also had coconut water straight from the coconut shell. Azlin came and picked us up and he drove us by the KL tower and the Twin Towers. Both architectural structures lit up beside the sunset sky and sparkled like diamonds. It was breathtaking. At 7:30pm sharp, the Call to Prayer began and resonated throughout the city. The voice was beguiling and the sung louder as we passed this beautiful white mosque. The congested roads we drove on were enclosed with palm trees and overhanging branches that dangled Christmas lights. Scooters squeezed their way between inching vehicles. Night time in Kuala Lumpur was fascinating. Azlin took us back home after that.
I think today was the best day so far I’ve had in Malaysia. I’ve now experienced high-end materialism downtown Kuala Lumpur and the real working class of Malaysia on Petaling Street. Tomorrow, Uncle Francis is taking us to some sort of museum. A demain!
Love,
Elle. xoxo
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