Sunday, October 24, 2004
I went to the International Islamic University last night to say goodbye to my friends there: Farida (Tanzania), Rahma (Kenya), Nurah (Phillipines), and Hidaya (Chinese Malaysian). Farida is a master chef, especially considering that cooking in the dorms isn't allowed and she has to make do with a rice cooker as her main instrument. Not only that, she's a food science masters student, so I trust that it's not too unhealthy. Rahma lets us overtake her room. Nurah accompanies Hidaya to the store to pick up last minute ingredients. I'm the taste-tester, since I'm not fasting and can (supposedly, but not very confidently) say if something needs more salt, more sugar.
As always, conversation is good. And the evening is fun. I had planned for this to be the last time I saw them, but had such a nice time that I hope to go back Friday to break fast with them (hopefully I'll be healthy enough to actually fast with them!).
Tonight I went to a Malay family's house to buka puasa (break fast). They are the in-laws of my Malay friend studying at the University of Iowa. The first time I went to their house was last Ramadan, and I think there were at least 15 family members there. We ate with our hands on the floor, I couldn't really communicate with anyone but the father, and two cars full of people escorted me back to my home on campus. One year later, I realized my Malay is much improved (though really, I think it ought to be even better--I was pretty lazy about learning it), I can handle more spice, and we squeezed into one car to go say hi to Hamizah (the one to the left of me) at work before dropping me home!
Tonight, after breaking fast with Malay family
Both last night and tonight made me wish I had spent more time with both sets of people. The Islamic University always seemed so far away and a bother to go to. I was shy to go to Nor's family's because I couldn't say much (but if I had gone, I'd know a lot more Malay now!). Nor's father-in-law had invited me several times to go to their village near Melaka, but I never had a chance (me always traveling and he and his wife were in Iowa for 4 months this summer). I wish I had made the time.
I wish I wasn't sick so I could have gone to Penang with A. and stayed at his house. His mom is so cute.In general, I guess the thing I realized I missed out on is the family aspect of Malaysia. And the University girls are practically a family. Also a deficiency in my Egyptian experience, but not to the same extent. Too many young single guys in my Malaysian time. Not enough women. Not enough family.
In the next country, wherever that may be....
Spy
I have a stat counter on here and it tells me where people surfed in from. The strangest to date: a google search for "orang juice maker made in poland" gave my page as the first hit (of 22). It seems a post from February was enough: "t drink teh tarik, it was lemon juice (though it ... and pieces: The rattan is collected by orang asli (indigenous ... ve realized I’ma major list-maker and planner." I checked the same search, spelling orange with the 'e,' and it doesn't lead to my page.
Random
A. came with me to a nearby Chinese restaurant on Friday evening. It's only a few blocks from my house and I've been there at least half a dozen times. After eating, we were just sitting talking and a Sihk man pulled up a chair as he asked if he could join us. It didn't take long to tell he was drunk. He ordered a bottle of beer, but when the waiter brought it to him, he could only find 1 RM in the wad of papers he pulled from his pocket. The waiter waited (haha) and when he couldn't pay, he took the beer away. The Sihk man told us he'd be right back, that he was going to an ATM. Before he got away though, he took a swig from the bottle of gin that had been protruding from his pocket...and then promptly dropped it. As if everyone hadn't already been watching.
In the midst of all this action, I coughed and he asked me if I was sick. When I said yes, he said, "No, I'm Sihk." Hahahahahaha. I like that kind of joke.
I didn't really suspect that he'd come back, but before A. and I could decide to leave, three Malay guys sitting two tables away offered to buy us a beer. So of course we had to go join them at their table. A. actually says that he thinks they were Indonesian, from the accent/dialect. Anyway, we had a beer with these guys, who'd seen the Sihk incident (everyone did). One of them had been drinking since 3 pm (which says a lot considering it's Ramadan and that's not after sunset...), but they were being friendly and had the stated goal of just wanting others to enjoy themselves, too. They said they thought A. was "three line," which is the Malay mob, basically. Something about the way he smoked his cigarette.
Then the drunk Sihk came back and pulled up a chair. But he was being...difficult. Basically acting like he thought he was better than these guys and interrupting the others when they were speaking with A. or me. Then he decided to leave because he claimed one of the Malay/Indo guys showed him a knife. I doubt that, but we were in a public place and I wasn't really worried about our safety.
I was worried, however, about the drunk Sihk. Specifically, the car keys he had in hand. I asked him if he was going to drive and he said he had no choice...So frustrating and stupid!
We had a beer (or two) with these guys and went on our way.
It was a strange, random night. In a good way.
I had been coop-ed up at home all week and was itching to go out. We headed to Frangiapani in Bukit Bintang, a sheeshee bar (where it happened to be gay night) that was unfortunately playing techno, not hip hop.
So it goes
My mom asked if I was as sad to leave Malaysia as I had been to leave Egypt...
I think the difference is, the more I leave, the easier it gets. I've realized that this is how my life is going to be, at least for awhile. Traveling also makes the world feel smaller (as does technology).
I don't know when I'll be back, or when/where I might met these people again, but...someday, somehow. And until then...email...phone calls...postcards...And sometimes you might not talk to someone for a long time, but when you're in the same place, it doesn't matter, things just pick right back up as if there had been no interruption. I like that.
It does sadden me, some, to realize that things will never be the same though. Even if I come back to Malaysia, I won't be able to go to Rahma's room and eat with all of those girls again, because they, too, will be finishing their studies and moving on. But even over the course of the year in Egypt, my core group of Egyptian friends drifted apart and were hardly hanging out all together at the end like they had in the beginning.
Another difference was that I loved the work I was doing in Egypt. I really felt like I was making a difference. And I was so aware that I was lucky to be able to leave. To go home. To my family. Whenever I wanted. My refugee friends and clients didn't have that option. Even my Egyptian friends can't travel as easily as me (both because visas are difficult to get and money harder to make).
Recommendation: Dirty Pretty Things. Saw it again for the second time last night. About the desperation of asylum seekers in England and the lengths they're willing to go...Also has the girl from Amelie in it, Audrey Tautou. Love her, absolutely love her!
