February 2005 Archives

We went and crawled around in some caves just outside of Ipoh. As we walked up to the caves, the tour guide guy gestured towards me and said to my companions, "I don't speak English, so you have to translate." Then he proceeded to give the entire tour in English.

The hills the caves were in were gorgeous! Nicely rounded mounds of earth covered in greenness.

After we went to a "drive-through drink stall." We got sugar-cane juice. In a bag. YUM!

We went and played in the gardens of Mun Ling's parent's house. And the gardens played with us. By the time we left, we all felt a little greener.

Then we left.

. Topher

It has been mentioned to me that my recent posts have not been as entertaining as my earlier posts. Yeah, I know. I'll endeavor to imbue a significant amount of condensed entertainment into my future posts...

HOWEVER -- I would like to point out a few rather entertaining moments in the most recent post, moments that still render me unable to stop myself from distorting my face into strange monstrous contortions depicting extreme pleasure (not that kind of pleasure), or nearly so anyhow.

1) The hotel was the PINK house... the PINK HOUSE! Gah! That kills me!

2) The "sexy" temple was sexy because it was phallic. Juvenile, I know, but combined with the pink house, it just keeps me going right through the middle of the post.

3) The guy in the kitchen making the food with the hat... The kitchen (and indeed, the whole restaurant) is not exactly up to US health-code standards, but the guy wears a hat, by jove! That's hilarious!

(gasp)! Yeah... that was a funny post. You should go re-read it.

. Topher

Do you burp after lunch? Of course you do.

I don't mean big loud obnoxious blats, or reciting poetry in a burping rumble, or anything like that (though I'm not exclusing it either). I just mean: ope, got a little bubble -- aaaaah.

Yeah, so then you're surrounded with a little cloud of fumes (a rather fitting word, methinks). People near you notice but politely pretend not to, while they step away for a moment. Or maybe they say, "Oooph! What'd you have for lunch?!" as they step away.

But sometimes you can fend off such comments by making one yourself, "Mmmm. Garlic and onion pizza. I love those little reminders." Or, "Curry chicken! Better the 2nd time around." But you have to know, you're not fooling anybody.

Or you can let it out then try to blow it away from the populated areas. Just be prepared for people to look at you strangely. And for the paint to peel off the wall you just blew it towards. And for cows to die in Coalinga. Even if you blew it the other way, eventually it will reach them.

. Topher

It rained in Ipoh. No, no, no... I mean it RAINED in Ipoh. We were standing there sweating in the heat. It started raining. "Bah!" I said, "It's just rain. I've seen rain." 15 minutes later the waters were up to the doors of the cars driving by in the street, those that weren't stalled out. It rained for about 30 minutes more. And 15 minutes after that, the streets were clear again.

We went to find our hotel later. We drove around and around, looking for something that looked like the hotel, a sign or something. Finally we called the place. They said, "Look for the pink house." Yeah. That's it. Pink.

Our hotel was an unmarked pink house, completely indistinguishable from every other house around it (except for it's severe pinkness, of course).

The rate worked out to about $12 USD a night. Surprisingly, it was rather nice.

There was this sexy temple across the street. That's as close as I got to it.

The next morning, I got my first taste of Dim Sum! Once again, I was the token white boy in the place. Once again, I couldn't order for myself. But my companions took care of me. And the food was fantastic! The guy in the kitchen wears a hat. Heh heh.

So then we had to kill time till lunch...

. Topher

My first weekend side-trip was to Ipoh. Ipoh is a smallish town north of Kuala Lumpur by about two hours. Three of us drove up on Saturday morning.

Since this was my first trip out of the city, it was also my first glimpse at rural life in Malaysia. Once we were out of the city, there wasn't much. Well, unless you count palm oil and rubber tree plantations.

The first thing we did when we got into town was stop at a resturant and eat. I'm told there are two things to do in Ipoh; one of them is eat. Heh heh. Oh, but the food is so good!

I got my first taste of Char Kway Teow that day. Nope, it's not a girl. It's this certain type of noodle (a flat hand-made rice noodle a bit like fettucini) with a few veggies and meat chunks (usually prawns or chicken), an egg and some soyish type sauce all fried together. Yum. Instant favorite for this fried-food white-boy. (Though a girl would have been an instant favorite, too.)

I also tasted another something which has a name I don't remember. It was chunks of fruit and crispy pastry-type stuff smothered in a slightly bitter black sauce and bits of nuts. It was good, but it made me uncomfortable to eat it. It took me a long time to figure out why. Weeks of that discomfort niggling at the back of my brain like a little insect... Then I had that same black sauce on something else (not in Ipoh) and actually found an insect crawling in it. Yeah. It's just way too easy to hide nastiness in bitter blackness. Sometimes I feel dense.

I think this was also the first resturant I ate at that was decidedly dirty by American standards. There weren't any insects in this food -- in fact the food was pretty clean. But it turns out that building cleanliness is a bit of a dunbother in Malaysia -- they dun bother with it. When I sat down, I layed my hands on the table in a typical caucasian waiting-boy manner. "Don't do that," they said. "Why?" I asked. "Dirty," they said. I thought, Did I accidentally flip them off?

The plates and food are clean, as are the utensils, but the tables, chairs, floor, etc -- basically everything you're not eating or eating with -- are all not-so-clean. If you drop your spoon on the table, you don't keep using it; you go clean it or get a new one. Also, you don't get napkins. Everybody brings their own little packs of tissue and they use that if they need a napkin.

I was the only white-boy in the place. And apparently the people around us were surprised that I knew how to use chop-sticks. Heh heh. Maybe they wanna see what else I can do with chopsticks?

. Topher