After Kuala Lumpur, I hopped back on the bus and headed for Penang, also in Malaysia, to meet up with my friend Elise. Our first order of business? Karaoke. Naturally. Three hours, dozens of songs, a meal and two drinks each later, we emerged from “Red Box” with big smiles and tired voices.
I spent the six-hour bus ride working on my mindfulness practices. Since I started blogging about self-care at HealthyNP I need to stay much more up to date on how other people practice meditation and mindfulness. I feel so lucky that I picked a topic to share with other people that benefits me so greatly, too.
I spent the six-hour bus ride working on my mindfulness practices. Since I started blogging about self-care at HealthyNP I need to stay much more up to date on how other people practice meditation and mindfulness. I feel so lucky that I picked a topic to share with other people that benefits me so greatly, too.
‘Ello ‘Ello, Wot ‘Ave We Got ‘Ear, Then
I had no idea that Malaysia used to be a British colony. Umm, whoops. Almost everyone I came into contact with spoke at least some English, which I was continually surprised at. I only encountered people with no English skills twice: day (night) laborers in Kuala Lumpur and a food stall vender in Penang.
The “former British dominion” vibe was reinforced by my hosts: I stayed with an Australian family for the 3 nights I was in Penang. They were lovely people, and I had a smashing time with them, though I had trouble keeping up with my online presence because the Wi-Fi kept disconnecting.
Additionally, I quickly learned about the Penang bus system, since I had chosen a place to stay that was over an hour away from my friend’s house. Again, whoops.
Elise dragged me quite willingly around her favorite parts of Penang, and I especially enjoyed meandering around Fort Cornwallis.
The “former British dominion” vibe was reinforced by my hosts: I stayed with an Australian family for the 3 nights I was in Penang. They were lovely people, and I had a smashing time with them, though I had trouble keeping up with my online presence because the Wi-Fi kept disconnecting.
Additionally, I quickly learned about the Penang bus system, since I had chosen a place to stay that was over an hour away from my friend’s house. Again, whoops.
Elise dragged me quite willingly around her favorite parts of Penang, and I especially enjoyed meandering around Fort Cornwallis.
Many Mouth-Watering Meals
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Penang is well known for its street food, and having a local guide meant I got to sample the best and cheapest that Penang had to offer. I have little to no idea what any of it was called, but she was kind enough to find the most delicious vegetarian options, order them and then set them in front of me. My tummy was well taken care of in Penang.
More than a few cars had McDonalds and Starbucks “VIP” stickers in their windshield. I have no idea what that’s all about, but I found it vaguely fascinating (and a little scary). What does being a “VIP” mean when they won’t see it until you come around to pay anyway? Or is it a RFID tag? Do they have a RFID reader that tells them when a VIP is at the ordering microphone?
I think I’ll pass on the Miccy D’s VIP sticker.
More than a few cars had McDonalds and Starbucks “VIP” stickers in their windshield. I have no idea what that’s all about, but I found it vaguely fascinating (and a little scary). What does being a “VIP” mean when they won’t see it until you come around to pay anyway? Or is it a RFID tag? Do they have a RFID reader that tells them when a VIP is at the ordering microphone?
I think I’ll pass on the Miccy D’s VIP sticker.
Chew (On This) Jetty
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Elise also traipsed with me around Chew Jetty, where a number of people live and sell kitschy touristy things. We got the obligatory photo on the end of the pier, and enjoyed wandering around there.
While on the jetty, I heard the following phrase multiple times: “I’m Proud to be from Penang, but not from Malaysia.” Apparently it’s a common sentiment. Malaysia is such a patchwork quilt of people and places, and Penangites like to set themselves apart from the rest, to distance themselves from Malaysia’s rampant corruption.
While on the jetty, I heard the following phrase multiple times: “I’m Proud to be from Penang, but not from Malaysia.” Apparently it’s a common sentiment. Malaysia is such a patchwork quilt of people and places, and Penangites like to set themselves apart from the rest, to distance themselves from Malaysia’s rampant corruption.
Malaysia Is A Muslim Country
I knew this intellectually before I came, as someone mentioned it to me, but I didn’t experience it much in Kuala Lumpur. I happened to choose a Westernized area to stay in KL, and saw mostly Western forms of dress. I did see lots of women wearing Muslim dress, but for whatever reason it didn’t affect me until I got to Penang.
In Penang, though, I noticed it constantly. About 1/3 of women wore traditional Muslim clothing, with a head covering but with their entire face visible. A smaller minority wore all black with just their eyes showing.
I willingly admit that the “complete covering of everything except for eyes” thoroughly weirded me out. I felt like I couldn’t connect with them; I wondered what they were thinking, how their faces were moving, how to know what they are doing. I felt intimidated.
Until she smiled at me.
The black-clad woman was pushing an infant in a stroller. She had a toddler in tow, and was struggling to get off the bus before the driver shut the door on her, but several dozen people were jostling and getting in her way. I helped her get off the bus and waved goodbye, since I was staying on.
You know those smiles that light up the person’s entire face? Yeah, they make me feel good too, both giving and receiving. She gave me one of those, and I instantaneously connected with her as a human being, with the same needs, wants and struggles as me or anyone else.
I’m not going to lie – the extreme covering-up of women still weirds me out. I continually wonder if the particular woman likes it, or hates it. Judges it, or appreciates it. But then I realize that for them it’s just part of life.
And I see them as fellow human beings.
In Penang, though, I noticed it constantly. About 1/3 of women wore traditional Muslim clothing, with a head covering but with their entire face visible. A smaller minority wore all black with just their eyes showing.
I willingly admit that the “complete covering of everything except for eyes” thoroughly weirded me out. I felt like I couldn’t connect with them; I wondered what they were thinking, how their faces were moving, how to know what they are doing. I felt intimidated.
Until she smiled at me.
The black-clad woman was pushing an infant in a stroller. She had a toddler in tow, and was struggling to get off the bus before the driver shut the door on her, but several dozen people were jostling and getting in her way. I helped her get off the bus and waved goodbye, since I was staying on.
You know those smiles that light up the person’s entire face? Yeah, they make me feel good too, both giving and receiving. She gave me one of those, and I instantaneously connected with her as a human being, with the same needs, wants and struggles as me or anyone else.
I’m not going to lie – the extreme covering-up of women still weirds me out. I continually wonder if the particular woman likes it, or hates it. Judges it, or appreciates it. But then I realize that for them it’s just part of life.
And I see them as fellow human beings.
Urinary Hole In One
At the end of my time in Penang, I had the opportunity to pee in a hole. Not like a “hey we’re camping and roughing it” experience, but one of those actual holes in concrete with people’s waste products on the ground a foot or two below it, and no toilet paper anywhere to be seen.
I had to go badly, but I took one look at the hole and said “No F***ing Way.”
Then I realized I might as well get it over with. I knew that at some point during my world travels I’d have to pee in a hole, and had been dreading it. I figured if I did it now, maybe I wouldn’t have to do it later; karma or something. I know it’s a stupid argument, but it got me to pee in the hole, which was what needed to happen at that moment.
Besides, I had Kleenex in my purse.
I didn’t particularly enjoy it, but I said to myself “self, you can now brag to all the non-travelers that you’ve peed in a hole next to the backwoods in a rambling shack in the middle of nowhere in a 3rd world country.”
Yes, I was trying to make myself feel superior, or at least better. And I’m okay with that. At least now I know what it’s like, and I won’t fear it so much in the future. Though I will continue to do everything possible to avoid it.
No, I didn't take a picture. I was kind of busy being grossed out and hyping myself up to do it. Yes, I know I should have. Sorry.
I had to go badly, but I took one look at the hole and said “No F***ing Way.”
Then I realized I might as well get it over with. I knew that at some point during my world travels I’d have to pee in a hole, and had been dreading it. I figured if I did it now, maybe I wouldn’t have to do it later; karma or something. I know it’s a stupid argument, but it got me to pee in the hole, which was what needed to happen at that moment.
Besides, I had Kleenex in my purse.
I didn’t particularly enjoy it, but I said to myself “self, you can now brag to all the non-travelers that you’ve peed in a hole next to the backwoods in a rambling shack in the middle of nowhere in a 3rd world country.”
Yes, I was trying to make myself feel superior, or at least better. And I’m okay with that. At least now I know what it’s like, and I won’t fear it so much in the future. Though I will continue to do everything possible to avoid it.
No, I didn't take a picture. I was kind of busy being grossed out and hyping myself up to do it. Yes, I know I should have. Sorry.
What's Your Exit Strategy?
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I got on the plane in Penang to “Keluar” for my flight back to Bangkok. I had some time to kill in Bangkok, so I wandered around the airport at oh-stupid-o-clock in the morning before my 2am flight to Shanghai.
And then I saw it. Coldstone. COLDSTONE!
As those of you who know me are aware, which is, umm, pretty much all of you, I kind of have a thing for Coldstone. Me and Coldstone go way back, through triumphs, heartbreaks, breakthroughs, successes, failures, good times and bad. I haven’t had ice cream from Coldstone in months. In fact, I stopped eating dairy to help my allergies, to astounding effect.
But not today.
Today I am eating Coldstone.
And Life Is Good.
Samantha
And then I saw it. Coldstone. COLDSTONE!
As those of you who know me are aware, which is, umm, pretty much all of you, I kind of have a thing for Coldstone. Me and Coldstone go way back, through triumphs, heartbreaks, breakthroughs, successes, failures, good times and bad. I haven’t had ice cream from Coldstone in months. In fact, I stopped eating dairy to help my allergies, to astounding effect.
But not today.
Today I am eating Coldstone.
And Life Is Good.
Samantha
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