Farewell to Penang

We are moving back to Texas. As I write this, the movers are here packing up my belongings for the sloooow boat ride back to America. On Friday, I'll lock the door behind me, get on a plane, and say goodbye to the place that I've called home for the last three years. My husband will return on business trips, but I have no idea when, if ever, the kids and I will come back to Penang. It's a long way, and the company will no longer be paying for the airfare.

Seeing how much the island has changed in just the short while that we've been here, I know that it will be a different place in the future. A little more polished. A few more highrises. A few more malls. I'll never come back to Penang as it is at this exact moment in time. My local friends may still be here. My expat friends will have most likely moved on.

Living in Malaysia and all the travel that we've done has been such a learning experience and broadened my mind. I feel like there's been an explosive growth of brain synapses that hasn't occurred since I was a young child exploring the world anew.

I originally created this blog as a way to update "in real life" friends and family about our time as expats. About our fish-out-of-water experiences. It turned into something more public and enabled me to meet people in the virtual world. Astonishingly, it's lead to being able to legitimately call myself a professional writer. Because of this blog, freelance opportunities have fallen into my lap.

But the real audience that I write for is something more narcissistic. I'm writing this blog to me. The me from four years ago. The me that I was as I prepared to move. The me that was so worried and depressed about the great unknown that was Malaysia. Mothering in Malaysia? Daily life in Malaysia? Could I do it? Was I strong enough? Would I end up resenting my husband and the job that took us here? The job that brought a sparkle to his eyes.

I'm writing this blog to the old me and to anyone else who frets about moving to Malaysia. I want to send it back through a time portal to tell myself not to worry so much and that life here can be fantastic. Yes, it has its challenges, but the pros outweigh the cons.

It's a great launching pad for travel. Hop on a plane for a few hours, and you end up in a place with a very different culture and history. While I also enjoy traveling in the United States, there's a certain "Anywhere, USA" aspect wherever you go. The same Wal-Marts. The same Targets. Most of the time in America, I don't look out the window and marvel at the exotic lives of the regular people passing by. I enjoy visiting the landmarks, but I don't find myself wanting to simply soak up the culture.

I will miss the company paying for some of our airfare as is commonplace with many corporate expat packages. When someone offers you money that is earmarked solely for airfare, and it's a "use it or lose it" situation, you should definitely use it!

I will definitely miss Malaysia. It will always hold a cherished place in my heart. Here's a look back at some of the wonderful things I am going to find lacking when I move back to America.

Street Art — There is public art everywhere in George Town.

Monkeys — Once I am back in Texas, I can romanticize monkeys instead of finding them to be thieving ruffians as I currently do.

School Field Trips — We visit amazing places around town like the Reclining Buddha Temple with its golden stupa and jewel-like naga statues.

Trishaws — I have a love-hate relationship with trishaws. They are such an iconic part of George Town that I bought professional photos of them, but getting stuck driving behind one totally sucks.

Festivals - With a mix of Malay Muslim, Indian Hindu, and Chinese cultures, there's always seems to be an interesting festival going on. I will never forget Thaipusum and the accompanying body piercings, but I won't post a photo here in case if you are the queasy type. The water fights at the Thai and Burmese temples during Songkran are also a stand out. Night after night of fireworks for Chinese New Year were a literal eye opener as it is impossible to sleep early during this multi-week celebration. Here's a photo from Loy Krathong when I and hundreds of other people floated candle lit lotus blooms out on the water.

Heritage Bungalows — Many of these gorgeous, old mansions are a leftover from the period when Penang was a British colony. They seemed to have been mostly built by the rich British residents or wealthy Straits Chinese merchants. This one is on Gurney Drive surrounded by high-rise condominiums. The family hasn't lived here for ages but are so wealthy that they've refused all offers to buy.

Shophouses — If the heritage bungalows belong to the elite, the shophouses belong to the commoners. I enjoy wandering around George Town's UNESCO World Heritage area and looking at all the shophouses. Armenian Street is my favorite place to explore, although I think it's getting more touristy by the second.

Living by the water — Penang is an island, and I've been so fortunate that the company has put us up in a beach-side place with an amazing view of the water. I cannot believe that I get to wake up, look out the window, and see this.

Water activities — So much happens on the water, too. From our condo, I can see fishing boats and parasailers, jet skis and sailboats. My boys have tried open water kayaking. A cruise on a yacht or catamaran is a great way to see the island especially at sunset. Whenever I look at this picture, I will think back at the happy times spent with friends in Penang.

Hawker Food — One of the things Penang is most famous for is its food. You know that tip about living frugally by not eating out? It doesn't apply in Penang. You can get a delicious meal that's both filling and inexpensive at hawker stalls. Sometimes, it costs less than making it yourself. All this is just US$4.

Drive-up Fruit Stalls — Drive-thrus are difficult to find in Penang. There's not one for a bank as far as I can tell. Only a few of the McDonald's have drive-thrus. What you can find all over the place is drive-up fruit stalls. You don't have to get out of your car if you don't want to, and you can still head home with healthy eats.

What I will miss most about Penang is the slow pace of life. An abundance of free time is what enabled me to do so much exploring. I spent most of my last decade in Texas being a stay-at-home mom to young kids. Whoever thinks that life is easy is nuts. Every morning when I woke up, I felt like I was jumping on a treadmill and sprinting through the day, trying not to fall down but getting nowhere. There was always so much to get done. As a trailing spouse in Malaysia, that's not the case.

I wonder what life will be like when I move back to Texas. Some of my friends who have already repatriated tell me that their life in Penang just seems like a dream, like it couldn't possibly been real. I'm hoping to keep up this spirit of exploration I've developed and turn it towards reintroducing myself to a town that I previously called home for two decades. It's time to leave Malaysia, and whatever the future may hold, I'm ready to catch a new wave.

P.S. You haven't heard the last of me. This blog will keep going, but I'm going to have to think of a more apropos name now that I'm no longer meandering around Malaysia.

This post is part the following linkups. Check them out for more around-the-world travel inspiration.

• Travel Photo Thursday on Budget Travelers Sandbox
• Sunday Traveler on Frank About Croatia, Chasing the Donkey, A Southern Gypsy, Ice Cream and Permafrost, and Pack Me To...

School Field Trips Malaysia-style

Do you remember your school field trips from your childhood? Those stand out moments of the academic year when your class explored what your town had to offer. It was like a mini-vacation for a day. If you normally walked to school, this was your chance to ride the big, yellow school bus. Make sure your parents sign the permission slip. No homework the night before. Bring a sack lunch. And always stay with your buddy!

Middle School students go white water rafting in Malaysia with Nomad Adventure
Photo credit: Nomad Adventure

My kids have been on some rather incredible field trips since we've moved to Penang. Time after time, I keep thinking, "This would never happen in Texas."

Who's the Fairest of them All?

Sunny beaches and tropical breezes. That's Penang for you. For most Westerners, one of the best souvenirs of a stay on the island is a bronze glow, a golden tan, and the potential for skin cancer. Not so for the locals. In Malaysia, as well as much of Asia, being fair and white is the preferred complexion.

It's as if a culture's beauty standards purposely mess with people's minds by idealizing the hardest attribute to attain. Most Malays and Indians have medium to dark skin. Beauty ads here tempt them to make it fairer. Most white people are...well... white. The beauty ideal for them in the West is tan.

Expat Luxury and Expat Slums

Many expats who are moved to Penang by their corporations find themselves suddenly living the grand life. Instead of a middle class house, they are now in a deluxe apartment in the sky. When my friends and I got together for breakfast a few weeks after arriving on the island, we were all still in awe of our new homes. We simply could not believe our opulent, high-rise lifestyle.

"I live in a place with Palace in its name. I have my own private elevator lobby, a view of the water out one side, and the gold stupa of a Thai temple out the other side," said one gal.

In fact, a ton of my friends have their own private elevator lobbies.

As for me, my condo is a whopping 6,000 square feet. Texas-sized! It also has a single-person sauna in the master bathroom. This is a totally frivolous feature. If you spend any time outdoors in Penang, you will become drenched in sweat and tell everyone that it's like a sauna out there. Why in the world would you need an actual sauna inside your home? Best of all is the view of the sunrise and the water from my balcony. It's the first thing I fell in love with in Penang. There have been some school days where breakfast gets on the table a little late because I can't help enjoying (and photographing) the scenery.

The fabulous view from my balcony across the water to the hilly mainland.

We middle class, American expats sometimes feel weird getting suddenly upgraded to living the Life of the 1%.  We're not rich. We're just average folks. We feel a bit like the Beverly Hillbillies in our luxury condos. Expat life is like being Cinderella at the ball, and we know it's all over when the clock strikes midnight, our contracts are over, and we move back to our home country.


Tall towers of supercondos are all over the island. Oddly enough, they seem half empty, yet more continue being built. Most of the occupants are expats, rich locals and foreign investors who keep units as holiday homes.

A 41-story, residential building started going up next door right about the time that we moved into our home. It's advertised as "sky bungalows," not boring ole condos. A couple times a day, an extremely loud siren would go off for ten minutes followed by a loud explosion. Even plugging our ears and running to the opposite side of the unit didn't help us escape the noise. They were blasting the bedrock to set the foundation for the highrise. The progress was fun to watch in the beginning as the floors began to go up. If my son had been a few years younger, I'm sure he would have spent all his time with his nose pressed to the window fascinated by the busy construction activity below. I've been trying to catch the tall crane at the very moment when it gets a few stories higher but haven't lucked out, yet.

Watching them build bungalows in the sky.

After a while, though, all the construction noise really began to wear on me. The constant jackhammering went on from morning until evening six days a week. Any time I saw a concrete truck on the site, I knew that they would be working until 11 p.m. because they don't stop pouring until they are done with a floor. They lashed together a bunch of bins to act as a rubbish chute from the top floors down to the ground. The first time I heard the rumble of it being used, I seriously thought it was one of the fighter jets that sometimes fly by. My friend nicknamed it The World's Largest Rainstick.




Construction continues late into the night.

Before we moved, I had imagined myself sitting out on the waterfront balcony relaxing and reading a book. I tried it a few times but had to go back inside and close the windows or risk hearing loss from the loud decibel noise. Once, I tried my noise cancelling headphones, but I feared that I'd fry the electronics with the rivulets of sweat that poured off my head in the sauna-like weather. Sometimes, we have to shout when we are out by the pool to be heard over the construction racket.

The work lights on the crane are so bright that I could use it as a reading light if I wanted to. It generates so much light pollution that it's extremely rare for me to see stars at night. How I miss a star-filled sky!

Plus, the unfinished building is really ugly. It lends a post-apocalyptic feel to the scenery.

In other words, the construction really annoys me! Worst of all, my gorgeous, panoramic view is blocked by the new building. I could weep. This is karmic payback for my residential tower because locals tell me that they considered where I live to be a blight on the landscape when it first went up, too. Apparently, my building was one of the first highrises to be built on this part of the island, and it basically ruined a ton of other homes' views.

Bye bye beautiful sunrise. This is taken from the same angle as the first photo.

Then, I give myself a kick in the behind and knock myself off my little diva pedestal. Yes, I am living in the lap of luxury. I have a visa that clearly states "Prohibited from Working" so I find little ways to amuse myself throughout the day. I have a maid who comes 12 hours a week, so I'm certainly not spending all my time cleaning the condo.

What about the laborers on the construction site? People tell me that they are foreign workers, usually from Indonesia. They are expats, too. They are the ones who are toiling away from morning until night while I sit in my cushy condo. They don't even stop when the wind starts blowing and the sky starts pouring.

Waiting on a ledge for an elevator to take them 25-stories down to the ground.

I'm so accustomed to safety-conscious America and their OSHA (Occupational Safety and Health Administration) laws and regulations that seeing these worker on a ladder perched on a ledge without a harness in sight gives me the heebee jeebies. I can't bear to look at them for fear that I'll witness someone falling to their death.



See they guy on the ladder by the window at the top?
It's a looooooong way down.

The thing that really gets me is the huge difference in our living accommodations even though we are right next to each other. These men live in shacks on the construction site. As the crew size grew, they've had to build more. Of course, all this is done late at night after they've spent the entire day on rich people's homes.

Where the workers live

These shacks have plywood sides and corrugated metal roofs. I cannot imagine how roaring loud it must be during a Penang storm. This is the Expat Slums. I don't know how it compares to what they were living in when in their home country. Perhaps it is a step up? Perhaps they're just happy to have a job and money to send home.

These toilets are a far cry from my luxury bathroom with a sauna and bidet.

When the second building started going up, they tore down a few of the rows of shacks, and the men moved into the lower floors of the unfinished towers. Plywood still serves to shield them from the weather since some of the walls aren't up, yet. At least the commute is short.

So whenever I get cranky from how much the construction is bugging me, I stop and say a little prayer of thanks. Living next to this site reminds me of how fortunate I am. It gives me a sense of perspective. Even though I'm living in a developing country, most of what I complain about can be classified under the popular "First World Problems" meme. The expats next door are not as lucky.

Rain, Rain, Go Away

Rainy season is upon us. Massive storm clouds roll in from the mainland. We can see them from miles away before they reach us — a wide curtain of rain spread out across the water and obscuring everything behind it. Living on an upper floor of a high-rise tower, the mighty winds screaming past our condo send out a warning, too, of the impending downpour. It sounds like the high pitched wails of a thousand banshees trying to burst through the windows, and I occasionally find myself thinking, "Something wicked this way comes." I don't think it must sound this bad down at ground level because workmen have stopped what they're doing in the unit to comment on the noise. Sometimes, cracking open the sliding glass doors a few inches helps calm the roar, but then the wind whips through the house, sending loose papers flying and the chandelier swinging. Outside, plastic trash bags start floating through the sky, carried by an updraft higher and higher. The tropical thunder gets going with rumble after rumble rolling out ahead of the storm. Then, the rain hits us, and everything outside goes gray.

Before we moved, I wasn't quite sure of what to expect from the rainy monsoon season. I imagined torrential downpours lasting all day long that left the streets knee-deep in floodwaters, like the pictures from my parents' childhood in the Philippines. Thank goodness it's nothing like that. The rain comes down strong, but the storm blows past in an hour or so. Since Penang is a small island, the water seems to just run off into the ocean and never builds up along any of the roads I drive.

Every now and then, it will rain for hours on end. But that's atypical, and if it does, it's more of a light rain a notch or two above a drizzle. Sometimes, I can't even tell that it's raining. Living midway up the building, there's no pitter patter of raindrops hitting the roof. With no other buildings close by, it's difficult to discern if I'm just looking at a gray sky or if there's drops of rain falling in front of it. I have to peer way down to the street to see if the roadways are glistening or if I can see headlights reflected on a shiny, wet blacktop.

Once, it rather improbably rained so hard that our condo unit started flooding as did other units in our tower. No, this wasn't a storm of epic proportions (the kind where you expect to see Noah and his ark standing outside). It's just that the strong winds blew the rain horizontally under the 15 foot balcony cover and against the building so that it hit the windows, ran down them, and started seeping in under the window sills. Armed with mops, buckets and towels, we tried to soak up the rainwater as it ran into the rooms facing the storm. It was surreal.

To be honest, there's really not that much to distinguish between the wet monsoons and dry seasons.  In the dry season, there's only a 40% chance of rain each day instead of the 60% chance during the wet. Overall, the temperatures are rather constant year round with some months being only a couple degrees warmer than others.

Growing up in Houston near the Texas coast, I was quite accustomed to quick, summer afternoon thunderstorms that released the hot, humid energy that built up over the course of the day. In this way, Penang so much reminds me of home. But Central Texas where we lived for the few decades before our move to Malaysia is in the midst of a multi-year drought. The water level of Lake Travis keeps dropping, forcing some of the companies serving the recreational boaters to close. I have just arranged for a large pear tree in the front yard of my Austin home to be chopped down, another victim of the lack of rain.

So, my kids were not really used to stormy weather before we moved to Penang.

Thunderstorms are the one thing that my daughter truly hates about Malaysia. Her pathological fear of them is something that wasn't much of a problem in drought-stricken Austin, but sometimes, it brings life to a standstill here in Penang. "My dog gets like that when it thunders," is what some people have commented when they see her start to quake and cry. I learned early on that if we were out in public, on the playground or the baseball field, we'd simply have to leave and go home lest her fear become the center of attention of everyone around us. It cannot be ignored. Even her teachers for the last few years know that my girl is going to be on edge in the classroom when a storm blows through. Her classmates huddle around her to provide comfort, and the school counselor has offered up her office as a place of refuge if my daughter's reaction starts distracting the other students.

In our condo with the wind and the rain whipping around above and below us, it's as if we are in the very center of the atmospheric disturbance, raised up like an offering. Sometimes, it feels like the lightening isn't crackling way up in the heavens but just outside the window close enough to touch. This is not an experience for the faint of heart. No amount of trying to claim "it's just the angels bowling" and "God's taking a flash photo" appeases my girl.

Over the first few months living in Penang, we finally came up with a way for her to cope with the storms. Bose Noise Cancelling Headphones plugged in to an iPod with dance music drowns out the cacophony. She retreats to the study, the room on the side of the condo furthest from a storm's leading edge and with the least number of windows. We draw all the blackout curtains closed, and turn on all the lights. No telltale flashes of lightening are going to squeeze into this room!

From my girl's school journal. Headphones on. iPad on. Curtains closed.

At 5 p.m., this little coping mechanism works out just fine. It's the middle of the night thunderstorms that do me in. As soon as my slumber is interrupted by a telltale rumble, I know that my girl will soon be by my bedside asking for the headphones. While I sleepily stumble into the study to set things up, she borders on being frantic, hoping that I'm done before the brunt of the storm hits. Then, I spend the next hour or so next to her on the couch to wait it out. Eventually, I drop off to sleep sitting upright with the ceiling lights glaring against my eyelids, waking every now and then to listen if I can still hear the rain. Finally, it's over, and both of us can get back into our regular beds for what remains of the night.

Frankly, it's exhausting. I'll be glad in another month or two when rainy season is over.

Glimpsing the Past along Penang's Warehouse Row

A big pot of chicken stock is simmering on the stove for the next six hours, filling my home with the heady aroma of slow living and doing things the old-fashion way. This island goes at its own pace, a notch or two lower than busy, buzzing metropolitans elsewhere, making you harken back to how things were done in a bygone era. That same sense comes over you when you stroll down the Prangin Road warehouse district which lies in the shadow of the towering, modern but sterile, KOMTAR structure that dominates the city.

The Prangin Canal used to run alongside this road, enabling small boats to bring goods inland from the harbor. In the 19th century, this canal marked the edge of George Town, and the area was called Sia Boey which means "village's end" in the Chinese Hokkien dialect. Numerous wholesalers conveniently located themselves next to the canal, especially inside Sia Boey Market. For a while, this district was nicknamed "The Land of Gold" because whoever opened a business here would prosper. As time marched on, the Market was forced to relocate in the name of progress to make way for the KOMTAR development, and the canal was almost completely filled in. A few wholesalers still station themselves in the shophouses lining the road, and they provide a glimpse into Penang's yesteryears. No speedy, computerized equipment here. Just folks conducting business as it's been done for generations.

The Egg Man
One of my favorite sites around Penang is the man delivering eggs via motorscooter. Now, I know where they get their start. Ooi Ah Tong started his egg distribution warehouse in the old Sia Boay Market over 50 years ago and moved it across the street when the market relocated. As is typical to the area, the eggs are unrefrigerated and kept at room temperature which is about 34C (95F) on this tropical island.

I am the egg man.

How many omelettes could you make out of these?

We are Rice, Ain't that Nice?
Being in Asia, rice is a staple on everybody's plate. I'm sure that this warehouse does brisk business. The man out on the covered 5-foot-way sidewalk clears the rice of hulls before scooping it into bags as heavy as a small child.

Cleaning the Rice



Rice Warehouse

Something Smells Fishy
Dried fish and shrimp are a big part of Malaysian cuisine. Caught fresh in the waters around Penang island, the fish are gutted and laid out on racks under the sun to dry. Surprisingly, the smaller ones take only one day to dry out.

An entire shop was dedicated to dried cuttlefish (squid). One man slices it into thin disks while the other one uses a machine to cut it into strips.

Slicing cuttlefish

Putting cuttlefish through the shredder

Eventually, some of dried seafood end up at another store on Prangin Road to be sold in bulk. You should be lucky that the internet hasn't invented Smell-o-Rama because I would have definitely piped through the pungent, fishy odor so that you could experience it yourself.

Top: These were as big as a serving platter
2nd row: Tiny shrimp; bulk scale; Finger-sized fish for MYR12 per kilo

This bulk bin warehouse actually sells a variety of other goods including premade rojak sauce, blocks of belecan paste (salted, fermented ground shrimp) and 10 pound tins of peanut butter.

I was particularly intrigued by these tins of Wheat Molasses. I've used sugar molasses plenty of times, but I had never heard of wheat molasses. Upon closer inspection, the ingredients are wheat, glutinous rice and water. I didn't have a chance to taste it, so I really wonder how close it is to what I know as molasses.

Hmmm.. what to do with all this Wheat Molasses?

The Sweetest Place in George Town
The sugar warehouse confirmed my suspicious that coarse grain sugar (color coded with a green label) is much more available here than the fine grain (pink label) or caster sugar. My daughter who, unbeknownst to me, only ate the dessert cake and sugar sachets on our last airplane flight would be in heaven here.

Sugar piled up to the ceiling

Revitalizing Sia Boey Market

The old, open air market building across the street has sat abandoned for years waiting to be demolished for a development project that never reached fruition. In July 2012, the state announced plans to capitalize on the site's status as a heritage enclave and restore it along with the old Prangin Canal. Who knows what lies in store for this area? Will it strengthen its wholesale business or support Penang's growing tourism? Only time will tell. Until then, we'll just have to take it slow and easy, the old fashion way.

I toured this area as part of the Trishaw Trades Trail tour organized by Spiral Synergy. Michelle Grimsley offers a great look at Penang's heritage past and the endangered trades and businesses that have been here for decades.

Related Posts:
Penang's Vanishing Heritage Trades
Penang Cooking Schools
The Street of Religious Harmony
Ramadan and Penang's Kapitan Keling Mosque


This post is part of Travel Photo Thursday on Budget Travelers Sandbox. Head over there for more around-the-world travel inspiration.



Please Remove Your Shoes

"Ummm... Do you mind taking off your shoes?"

 

Growing up in Houston, Texas, those words always seemed strange and awkward coming out of my mouth. My parents' house is strictly No Shoes Allowed, and as a child, this always seemed to set us apart. Sure, my aunts and uncles had the same rule. My parents' Filipino friends did, too. Grown-up parties with my folks were always marked by a huge pile of shoes at the door. But none of my friends ever made this request. I only realized this custom extended way beyond my family's circle of influence when I first entered the home of my Taiwanese friend in high school. She was surprised that I didn't automatically remove my shoes. "You're Chinese," she said, "you should know to take them off."

After I was married and had my own home, I instigated the No Shoes rule, too. When we visited Hawaii, I considered buying a plaque that said, "Please remove your shoes. It's the Hawaiian way." Except that a) I'm not Hawaiian; and b) I don't live in Hawaii. So, I couldn't figure out how I would justify that reasoning.

By the time I became a mother, non-Asians seemed to be jumping on the No Shoes bandwagon. Baby playgroup discussions covered concerns with thimerosal in vaccinations and phthalates in plastics. Leaving our shoes at the door was a way to keep environmental toxins out of the home. And of course, it's de rigueur for the kiddos to go shoeless at almost any indoor playscape.

Then, I moved to Malaysia.

Suddenly, the world flipped and what seems awkward in the United States is the norm here. When we came for our exploratory trip and looked at a bazillion rentals, we had to remove our shoes a bazillion times. Take my advice. Wear slip-on shoes when house hunting.

Everyone automatically takes off their shoes without asking. Some homes have the most beautiful, ornately carved, wooden shoe chests. If you're dressing up to attend a party at someone's home, the pressure is off to find just the right shoes for your outfit. No more standing around in heels all night! However, I do seem to get pedicures more frequently. Thank goodness they're cheap.

What's interesting is that the whole No Shoes custom extends beyond homes in Malaysia. When we visit our pediatrician, we leave our shoes on the doorstep before walking into the building. Frankly, this would have completely freaked me out in Texas because I would have been convinced that there was some highly contagious foot disease (Warts! Fungus!) ready to leap off the floor and burrow into my child's precious foot. But I just go with the flow here and take them off without worrying.

At a store called SSF, all customers must remove their shoes before heading to the 2nd story of the shop. It would be like browsing around a Crate and Barrel in America and then having to take off your shoes partway through the store. I always seem to go down a different set of stairs than the ones I head up, so I have to walk back to the first stairs to retrieve my footwear.

Of course, the No Shoes policy spreads all throughout Asia. I was impressed in Kyoto, Japan, by the highly organized system of numbered shelves to store the shoes for hundreds of visitors to the Sanjusangen Buddhist shrine. It was comparable to remembering where you parked your car in a large lot. They even had special shoe storage sections set aside for tour groups!

At Penang's Reclining Buddha Thai Temple
You are required to remove shoes, so perhaps someone is to stand guard while others tour.

Luckily, no one has ever made off with my shoes like when Sex and the City's Carrie finds her pricey Manolo Blahniks missing after leaving them at a friend's door. There's also that scene in Slumdog Millionaire where the kids steal shoes at the the Taj Mahal. This may be due to the cruddy taste in footwear that set in after Pregnancy #3 made my feet too-wide-for-regular-width but too-narrow-for-wide-width.

Back in Texas, we almost accidentally stole some other kids' brown Crocs when we were leaving the Chik-fil-A play area. Can you blame us? They are so common, and when you're waging the "No, you cannot go down the slide just one more time" battle, you grab the shoes that look right without inspecting them too closely. Good thing the mama of the rightful owner noticed.

In summary, the good thing about Malaysia is that I am now Normal! (Well, in that one aspect.) Yippee! No more awkward requests occasionally followed by the stink eye for asking guests to Please Remove Your Shoes.

Swim Parties at the ParkRoyal Resort

My son attended a fun birthday party at The Parkroyal Penang Resort Hotel in Batu Ferringhi a few months ago. The kids were entertained the whole time, the food at Cool Bananas was plentiful, and best of all, the host didn't have to open her house to hordes of crazy children. If you have a hankering to visit, you don't need to wait for a party since day passes are available.

All the kids had fun splashing in the pool. The big waterslides drew a lot of their attention, but games of water volleyball and cannonball splash contests also kept them occupied. A lifeguard on duty prevented the action from getting too wild. A ping-pong table by the restaurant was another activity the children could enjoy.

Super fun, slippery slides

I especially liked having the swimming pool right by the Cool Bananas restaurant with its shady porch. That way, the parents could relax out of the hot sun while keeping the kids close by. We couldn't see the entire pool area, but it's one of the better layouts in Penang.

All the food was already laid out on the buffet table when the party started in case if the children were hungry right away. I thought the party hats, balloons, and colorful tablecloths and napkins gave the space a very festive atmosphere.

Dining al fresco on the shady veranda of Cool Bananas

 

 

If the pool isn't enough to keep the kids busy, a stretch of Batu Ferringhi beach borders the hotel grounds.

 

Want to have fun on the beach?

 

The party got rave reviews from my son. All the kids seemed to be exhausted but happy and full of food by the time 2 hours was up. So, if you're looking for a place to hold your own child's party, consider The Parkroyal Penang.

 

For party reservations and enquiries, call 04-886-2288, extension 8207.

 

 

 

 

Cool Bananas Day Pass Membership

Weekdays

Adult - RM40.60 (entitle to F&B credit worth RM23.00)

Child - RM29.00 (entitle to F&B credit worth RM11.50)

Weekends & Public Holidays

Adult - RM52.20 (entitle to F&B credit worth RM34.50)

Child - RM40.60 (entitle to F&B credit worth RM23.00)

 

To enjoy this offer, speak to an associate at the Cool Bananas Poolside Café.

 

 

Related Posts:

Hanging Out at the Hard Rock Hotel Penang

Kids Top Picks for Indoor Fun in Penang

ESCAPE: Penang's New Eco-Adventure Park

 

 



Easy Malay for English Speakers

One of the biggest worries about moving to a new country is not speaking the language. Fortunately for me, enough locals in Penang speak English so that my questionable grasp of Malay has not been troublesome. At worse, I've been able to find at least one person in a shop who can assist me. Although, the time I attempted to pantomime "googly-eye stickers" was probably amusing them so much that they were only pretending to not understand.

Another blessing is that some Malay words are clearly based on their English counterparts. These remind me of early primary school's "spell it like it sounds" method and actually make more sense than English's convoluted spelling rules.

Can you figure out the following Malay words? Sometimes, it's "as easy as apple pie."

In Malay, adjectives come after the noun.



I've just been robbed! Call the POLIS!



I have a headache. Can we stop at the FARMASI to pick up some medicine?



That crazy MOTOSIKAL weaved in and out of the cars.



If you are looking for a job, read the KLASSIFIEDS.

I'm starving. Let's go and eat at a RESTORAN.

But before you start thinking that you totally understand, remember that some Malay words just look like English but have a completely different meaning.

JAM means "hour"

If a store says "24 JAM," it is not advertising its variety of jellied fruit spreads. That means it's open for 24 hours.

AIR means "water"

Do not put AIR in your tires (or "tyres" as it's spelled here). You'll be sorely disappointed when water comes out. Instead, use the hose marked ANGIN.



This post is part of Travel Photo Thursday on Budget Travelers Sandbox. Check it out for more around-the-world travel inspiration.

Living in the Tourist Zone

Every week, I get online and read travel blog roundups that take me away to far-off destinations. But lucky for me, I live in the midst of a tourist hotspot, too. Other people daydream about visiting the place I call home. It's not just that I live in Penang, an island with much ballyhooed street food and a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Vacationers are right next door.

My condo is along a stretch of beach lined with the type of mid-price hotels favored by package tours. I've found blog posts excitedly showing pictures of a Penang vacation with shots taken at the beach outside my window. I come across tourists almost every day, sometimes even in the elevator since there are a few Vacation Rentals by Owner in my building. People watching is the best part of living in the tourist zone. We see everyone from Aussies in their flip flops, tank tops and shorts to conservative Muslim women in full burkas.

"My" backyard

Cruise ships sail by my home every morning and night.  My friends who live near the pier in George Town have an even closer view of the boats.  I imagine the passengers on deck gazing out as it makes its way around the top of the island. Are people already getting down to the business of gambling and drinking, especially if they're on the one night, International Waters cruise? Or are they relaxing by the pool as the boat sails towards Thailand?

Cruising past Penang

Watching the crazy people frolicking in the water near the hotel beach is even more fun. From my bedroom, I can see people jetskiing as if there's a protective force field surrounding them. They seem to have no fear that their crazy maneuvers and criss-crossing paths will cause a collision. So far, they've been okay. Whole families hop on banana boats to be hauled around in the midst of the insane jetskiers. There's always a few parasailers, too. Yes, it's definitely a holiday atmosphere.

These jetskiers were circling around in opposite directions and nearly hit each other.

The self-proclaimed World's Largest Toy Museum, a major kid magnet, used to be located near our school. Families poured out of cars and excitedly lined up for photos in front of the facade evoking ancient Egypt. (These weren't toys. They were merely leftover decor from the building's former life as a nightclub.) In fact, I'd have to make sure I didn't run over youngsters with my car as their laser focus on the Toy Museum blinded them to their surroundings while they skipped towards the building. It was a popular place for school field trips, too. Teachers grouped the kids on the steps and then stood in the middle of the street to get the perfect picture. I tried not to collide with these folks either. What struck me was how just plain happy everyone was to be there. I could feel the positive vibes radiating from them.



Who can rescue Woody and Buzz Lightyear?

We love passing by the numerous tour buses on our walk to school. Stickers on the window advertise the amenities offered inside. For a long time, my daughter thought karaoke and DVD players were the best ones. And then a few weeks ago, we came across a fancy, double decker bus. It advertised Food and Beverage service, massaging chairs, PC games, and personal entertainment systems. I really should have found out what tour group it belonged to since that one is definitely tops. Sometimes, people are boarding the bus as we walk to school. They are off to their next adventure on holiday while my kids must toil for the day. Don't worry, our turn will come.

I wonder what sights they'll see today.

The only downside to living in a tourist hotspot is all the traffic. Local tourists tend to swarm Penang every public holiday. I have invented the Tour Bus Indicator. There's a direct correlation between the number of tour buses outside my condo and how tremendously crowded the roads will be that day. Four buses means I should probably just enjoy the comforts of home instead of heading out if it's not absolutely necessary. The road with the nearest major mall, Gurney Drive, normally takes me about 5 minutes to drive down. On a public holiday, I've sat on that same road for 1.5 hours slowly inching the car forward. (If I'm in a metric country, would the phrase be "centimetering the car forward"?) One of my daughter's classmates who lives on Gurney had her birthday party on a public holiday. Imagine her tears when not one guest showed up despite all their good intentions because they couldn't bust through the gridlock.



3 buses = Double the normal driving time

Come on over and visit Penang. It's a fabulous place, and the tourist I meet seem to be envious that I get to explore it at my leisure. I consider myself lucky to call it home for a few years.


This post is part of Friday Daydreamin' at R We There Yet Mom? Check it out for more travel inspiration.