Totally Random Photos

My father-in-law has been asking for my business cards so that he can hand them out to his friends. I didn't actually have any cards and had to get some printed. Taking inspiration from my photographer cousin whose business cards are a mini portfolio of his work, I ordered cards from MOO with an assortment of 50 different images from my blog.  That got me "flipping" through my old photos and doing a lot of reminiscing over the fun worldwide travels and slow exploration of Penang, Malaysia that I've enjoyed over the last few years.

For this post, I must give credit for the idea to Nancy over at Budget Travelers Sandbox. Her post this week for her Travel Photo Thursday linkup is to randomly open four of her Flickr travel photo albums and share the seventh photo from each album. I'm being a total copycat and doing the same with my Malaysia albums so that I don't overwhelm you with all 50 of the photos from my stack of business cards.

Ramadan and Penang's Kapitan Keling Mosque

Malaysia is primarily a Muslim country. We are at the end of Ramadan, the month-long observation of fasting from sunrise to sunset. Many Ramadan buffets are popping up around town, even along the side of the road, for Muslims to eat at after the sun goes down. On the radio, I just heard the DJ revel in Malaysia's multi-racial society and remind non-Muslims to be polite and not flaunt their delicious lunches in front of those who are fasting.

This Sunday is Hari Raya Aidilfitri  when the fasting period comes to an end. It's pretty much the biggest holiday in Malaysia. Most people get Monday and Tuesday off. Many Muslims head to their hometown or go on vacation to spend it with their families. My kids have school on those days, so it's going to be two Date Days, as opposed to Date Nights, for hubby and I. Strings of lights (what we would refer to as "Christmas lights" in America) decorate streets, and crescent moons with stars hang everywhere. Last year, I remember seeing crowds of people decked out in their finest traditional Malay clothing making their way to area mosques for communal prayer.

Kapitan Keling Mosque

The most historic mosque in George Town, Penang is Masjid Kapitan Keling which was built in 1800 for the South Indian Muslim community. "Masjid" means mosque. "Kapitan Keling" refers to Caudeer Mohoodeen, the head of the Indian Muslims at the time of construction.  "Kapitan" is the Malay version of the English word, "Captain." Back then, the Indians were referred to as "Keling" because most of them were convict laborers, and their chains would make a cling-cling noise as they worked. Understandably, modern day Indians in Penang oppose this term and are lobbying to eliminate it from use. However, it's still in the name of this mosque and the street named after it. This street is also called "The Street of Harmony" because, in addition to the mosque, it has a Hindu temple, Chinese temple and Anglican church along it.

Long prayer rugs line the empty prayer hall.

Although we didn't enter the prayer hall, a Muslim guide took us around everywhere else and was open to answering our many questions. Our group had so many! Why are multiple wives permitted? So that every woman can have a protector even if the man:woman ratio isn't equal. Why are women separated from men when praying in mosques? Because a man cannot concentrate on Allah if a women is praying right in front of him, prostrate on her knees with her forehead down on the ground. How many times do Muslims face Mecca and pray every day? Five times - before dawn, around lunch time, afternoon, sunset and nighttime. The exact times are dependent on your city, and yes, there's an app for that. How long do prayers last (because five times a day seems like a lot to us non-Muslims)? Some are as short as five minutes. What exactly does Hajj, the Islamic pilgrimage to Mecca, involve? Umm... I didn't take notes, and you can Google it just as easily as I can.

The five prayer times for the day are displayed on the bottom row from right to left.
The box in the upper right shows the current date and time.

He demonstrated the ablutions every Muslim must make before entering the mosque to pray. Let me tell you — It's certainly more involved than dipping your fingers in Holy Water and making the Sign of the Cross as I'm accustomed to doing in Catholic churches. Standing next to something that looks much like a large wading pool, he rolled up his sleeves and pants. Then, he scooped water up with a small, ladle-like bucket and proceeded to wash up. Hands and wrists got attention first . He rinsed out his mouth, rubbed his teeth and blew water out his nostrils.  He cleansed his face and ran his fingers through his beard and hair. The feet were last. I think what really struck me while I observed this is that various religions use water to symbolically purify followers. We're different, but we're the same, too.

Inside the mosque looking out towards the street. According to custom, no pictures decorate the walls.
Instead, a motif of Arabic writing  or a pattern of eight-pointed stars provides adornment.

Our guide is also a muezzin, a person at the mosque who recites the azan, the call to prayer. In olden days, the muezzin would climb to the top of a minaret and sing out the azan so believers could hear the announcement. Now, he stays at the bottom with a microphone and broadcasts from a loudspeaker at the top. This is a chant that emanates throughout the city five times a day. It's become part of the soundtrack of my life in Penang. The guide graciously recited the azan for us and translated every line into English as he went.

Minaret as seen from inside the mosque
And yes, I got teased for thinking the call to prayer was just a recording.

I had been wanting to visit a mosque but was nervous that I'd unintentionally do something highly offensive. I went as part of Spiral Synergy's tour of The Street of Harmony. The mosque also offers free guided tours starting at the base of the minaret. If you would like to understand more about the intersection of Islam, Judaism and Christianity, I recommend reading The Faith Club.

INFORMATION
Visiting hours : 1-5 p.m. Saturday to Thursday; 3-5 p.m. Friday
Admission: Free. Guided Tours run by the Islamic Propagation Society International are available at the Islamic Information Centre located at the ground floor of the minaret.


Related Post
The Street of Religious Harmony
Cue the Bollywood Music: Part 1
Strolling down Armenian Street
You Are Invited to Penang, No Reservations Needed



This post is part of Travel Photo Thursday on Budget Travelers Sandbox and Photo Friday on Delicious Baby. Check them out for more around-the-world travel inspiration.

10 Foods Americans Miss Most

Last month, CNN Go posted an article listing the 10 Foods Americans Miss Most While Abroad. Read original story here. Well, this is my response from Malaysia. Penang is supposedly the foodie heaven of Southeast Asia. I've fallen in love with Char Kway Teow, Roti Canai, and Curry Mee. But it's only human for an American gal to occasionally crave American food.

Mexican Food
Not surprisingly, it's really hard to find amazing Mexican food in Penang. As a Texas gal accustomed to having multiple taco stands to choose from, it's been difficult. One place recently opened up near me called Grumpiez Green Pepper, but my other choices are Chili's (barely mediocre) or the quesadillas at T.G.I.Friday's. The hand-down best Mexican restaurant in Malaysia is La Mexicana in Kuala Lumpur which is, unfortunately for me, a 4-hour drive away. It's kind of funny how my Texan expat friends seek out Mexican restaurants in Singapore, Chiang Mai, Beijing, and Siem Reap because the more metropolitan Asian cities have a better chance of serving up platters that are muy bueno.

I've actually been buying Old El Paso Taco Kits more often here than I ever did in the U.S. But since it's manufactured in Middlesex, England, how authentic can it be? The first time I ripped open the spice mix packet, I swear the aroma of curry wafted up to my nose.

How could I tell this was British?
Perhaps it was the phrases, "splash of oil,"
"brown the mince," and "lovely rich, tasty filling."
These are tacos that you eat with your pinkies up.

Cinnamon Toast Crunch (and other cereals)
Cereals aren't impossible to find, although you'll pay out the wazoo for American made ones. The few times we've seen Cinnamon Toast Crunch at the store, the kids have asked for it. Instead of my normal, "Too much sugar" response, I say, "Do you think we're the Rockefellers?" At US$8 for a box, it's now a luxury. The Kellogg's cereal is manufactured in Thailand, and Nestle is produced in the Philippines. These are the affordable cereals. And so far, we've only chipped one tooth eating it.

Along the same note, Hidden Valley Ranch Dressing is another little luxe item. I've only seen it on the shelves twice in the 10 months I've been in Penang, and it's US$7 for a medium sized bottle.

Chili Fries
I've never found chili fries in Penang, but it's no skin off my nose since I'm not a particular fan. I bet the Canadian version of this story lists Poutine in this spot.  UPDATE: I spotted Chili Cheese Fries on the menu of Morgenfield's at Gurney Paragon Mall.

Root Beer
A&W Root Beer is nowhere on the menu. However, you can find A&W Sarsaparilla. Maybe it's because Muslims can't consume alcohol, so A&W moved away from the word "beer". There's an A&W restaurant in the nearby mall where we can get root beer floats. Due to a slight misunderstanding even though everyone was speaking English, I accidentally upsized our entire order and got double scoops of ice cream. My kids thought I was awesome that day.

Proper Hamburgers
If you order a hamburger in Penang, chances are that you won't come away feeling like a glutton. That's a good thing. Burgers are actually reasonably sized. Getting a tasty, juicy chargrilled burger is difficult, although the Canteen at China House is one place in Penang to find them. Forget about making the perfect burger at home. For some reason, all the ground beef at the store is Weight Watchers Minced Beef which is code for "so low fat that you don't need to worry about grease flare ups."

One burger could daintily fit on the palm of my hand.

Bagels
Rainforest Bakery makes bagels and offers free delivery. It's a delicious ring of doughy, chewy bread, but it is NOT a bagel. The outer crust is wrong, offering no resistance when biting in. At the high end grocery store, Cold Storage, I can sometimes find Bagels Forever made in Madison, Wisconsin in the freezer section. "Sometimes" is the operative word. When I get back to America, Panera Bread is high on my list of must-eat places. (Use this info to revile me if you consider yourself a true bagel connoisseur.)

Pizza
Domino's delivers, even in Malaysia. What do you want? Tuna Extreme, Prawn Passion or Spicy Sambal? Don't worry. Pepperoni (beef or chicken) and Cheese are also options. You can actually get some good wood oven pizzas at a few Western places around town, so all is not lost.

Popcorn
Popcorn is definitely available in Penang. Cold Storage carries Orville Redenbacher or Paul Newman, but like the Cinnamon Toast Crunch, be prepared to pay the big bucks. At the movie theater, you have the choice of Salted, Lite n Sweet or Caramel. The concession stand is so cheap that each kid gets their own box. They also hear me say, "Wow, we could never afford to do this in America."

Ice
Penang isn't Europe. You can readily get ice with your drinks here. Of course, it's so bloody hot that it will melt in 10 seconds, and the condensation sluicing off your glass will convince you that it's leaking. I'm so seasoned that I drink iced juices from outside hawker stalls without fear of getting the runs. (Can you hear me furiously knocking on wood?)

Free Ketchup Packets
The fast food places will include packets in your takeaway (that's "to go" for us Americans). Look carefully, though. There's a good chance that you're squirting Chili Sauce instead of Tomato Ketchup on your fries.

Squirty and red. It's delicious, but it ain't ketchup.

How can I tell that the guy who wrote the original CNN Go post isn't a Texan? Barbeque is nowhere on his list.


This post is part of Foodie Tuesday on Inside Journeys. Check it out for more delicious inspiration.

Playing Ball in Malaysia

My girl and Chris Davis at a Round Rock (Texas) Express Game, June 2011

In America, almost every parent I know spends their weekends watching their kids play sports. Weekdays are spent figuring out how to shuttle them to numerous practices. Here in Penang, we've found that it's decidedly more low key. This worked out well for us, since we're not a very competitive family sportswise. But when I was telling one of my friends in Austin about it, she looked at me and declared that it would drive her husband CRAZY.

When we arrived here in Malaysia, my oldest boy decided to start playing baseball after being inspired by his sister's appearance at a minor league game over the summer. In America, I would have been hesitant about letting him begin at such a late age. After all, some of the kids on my girl's kindergarten T-ball team in Texas were already in their second year of league play. But since everything is so laid back in Malaysia, learning baseball in 6th grade didn't seem like such a big deal.

Our condo grounds aren't the best place to practice batting, so hubby went online to find a batting cage. The closest one is in Kuala Lumpur, 4 hours away. That's a bit of a drive! So, they drilled a hole in a ball and hung it from a rope to practice instead.

The team was one of three in the intramural league at the school. Whereas my daughter's kindergarten T-ball team had weekly practices led my multiple dads, my son's Penang team only had a couple practices before the season started and a couple before playoffs. Other than that, his time commitment was simply for the one game each week during regular season. The coach was a teacher (and father of a player) assisted by a few high schoolers. No moms or dads helped out over here.

Most parents didn't come out to watch the games either. In Texas, I was accustomed to a bevy of moms, dads, sisters, and brothers for every player showing up at the games. One of my favorite memories is of the umbrella and picnic blanket tent city siblings built on the sidelines to watch a game during a rainshower. The games at our Penang school only drew a handful of folks.

Middle school games were always on a Saturday morning at the school, and the elementary school doesn't offer softball or T-ball at all. Unlike in Texas where we'd have to juggle being at various games for each kid throughout the weekend, the time we spent watching sports shrank down to less than a couple hours. The rest of the weekend was free!

Playing ball on a tropical island has its own special challenges. The coach's wife tells me that a few years ago, the kids went out of bounds to retrieve a wayward ball. There it was lying next to a python. Luckily, the python had recently fed and was in a food coma. The next season, a wild boar ran out onto the field. The players piled into the van next to the field while adults grabbed the baseball bats to chase it away.

My younger son who is in elementary school signed up for the Soccer Club during the 2nd Quarter. Unlike in America, they never formed teams but just practiced as one big group. The only time that they played another school, the kids were divided up into teams after they arrived. It was more like a organized pick-up game than the soccer leagues I was used to in Texas. This was fine for my son but I think my friend's daughter who played on a development team in Austin may have been a little let down. Once again, not many parents turned out to watch the game.

We were informed that playing against local schools would be different than what we're used to in America. The typical Malaysian "Ok-lah" attitude extends to not worrying about being on time for competitions. Or maybe the coach or some of the players won't show up. When my middle schooler attended the citywide cross country meet, he was quite surprised that hardly anyone was there at the announced start time. Most didn't start rolling in until 15 minutes later. You can bet no one is speeding to get their kid there on time.

So yes, sports are much, much more relaxed in Malaysia than in Texas. This suits us just fine because sports takes a low priority in our home.  (Although, it's not 100% absent like it was in my childhood.) It's been great to not have to eat dinner at weird hours just to accomodate practices. I definitely don't mind not driving to sports practices for all three kids. But I do miss the camaraderie that comes from being with the same team supporters week after week.

Indian Ocean Earthquake and Tsunami Scare

April 11 was a strange day. My hubby was back at home in Texas for business. In Malaysia, it was a last-minute public holiday for the coronation of the new king. (In an incredibly fair system developed when Malaysia gained independence from England, the ceremonial position of king is a 5-year stint that rotates among Malaysia's nine states' hereditary royal rulers.) Everyone was off from school and work and in a holiday mood. Then, the earth started shaking, and we turned our eyes to the sea to see if a giant wave was going to engulf us.

I had just told my kids that I'd take them to the pool as soon as I finished watering the plants. As I walked around my balcony, I began to feel it bounce beneath me. "Shoddy Malaysian construction," I thought to myself and stepped back inside. That's when I realized that it wasn't just the balcony, the whole building was shaking. My kids had felt it, too, and came out of their rooms.

We decided to head down the stairs. My agile boys made it down quickly, but my girl and I were a little slower. Living a little more than halfway up a 40-story high rise tower, it took me about 8 minutes to get to ground level. When I thought about it hours later, I realized that if the building was shaking hard enough to be structurally dangerous, I probably would have been thrown down the stairs. I should have just stayed put.

After talking with others, it seemed that the higher up a building a person had been, the scarier the quake was. This makes sense. Friends who had been eating at McDonald's, wandering around Little India or hanging out on the beach didn't even feel the shaking. A friend who lives 13 floors lower me initially thought a breeze was just blowing her door back and forth until she realized no windows were open. The one who lives nearly at the top of the 40-story building was the most spooked. Others who lived in older condo towers said the pictures were shaking on the walls or that they couldn't evacuate because the building was moving too much.

There was a small crowd gathered outside by the playground. Murmurs of "8.6 earthquake in Sumatra" started floating around. Soon afterward, people started talking about tsunamis and headed back up into the building. I checked the Pacific Tsunami Warning Center and, after much deciphering of the information, figured out that a tsunami was predicted to hit Penang about 4 hours later.

Even though I didn't particularly like the idea of waiting for aftershocks inside the building, we went back upstairs, too. My mother's stories of collapsed towers during the a 1968 Filipino earthquake flitted through my mind. A few of my friends opted to pack their families into the car and drive up to higher ground so that they wouldn't have to be inside. I was optimistic enough to wash school uniforms for the next day but still worried enough to pack a survival pack. (I guess that's what happens when you're the mom of a Boy Scout and read too much Hunger Games.) I loaded up a backpack with flashlights, bottled water, granola bars, a waterproof groundcloth, pocketknife, first aid kit and whistle, then left it by the front door.

Waiting for a tsunami is a weird experience.  I kept looking outside at the water, wondering if the large cargo ships would be swept against my building. I turned on the local news but found coronation coverage on almost every station. Al-Jazeera turned out to have good coverage of the current events. I figured that if the waves hadn't swept over Indonesia, we were probably in good shape.

It turns out that Penang has some sort of tsunami plan in place. Unlike The Big Island of Hawaii, I've never seen "Tsunami Zone" signs or sirens around here. Instead, an ambulance drove down busy waterfront streets loudly announcing the warning in Malay. Hotels in the resort area started closing their beaches. Civil defense personnel rode up and down beaches on motor scooters telling people to clear out.

Two hours after the first quake, an aftershock hit. In my kitchen, the sliding glass door started rattling back and forth. Part of me wanted to go back down, but I convinced myself to stay put. Almost everyone I knew thought that staying high up in a building was the best bet. Those who lived in bungalows accepted the kind offers of their high rise dwelling friends inviting them over.

Finally, my husband woke up in Texas, heard the news reports and gave me a call. I had been worried that the last thing he'd ever hear from me was an email saying, "Earthquake hit. We're going back in the building." It was such a relief to talk with him since he's a rather pragmatic guy. At that point, the Pacific Tsunami Warning Center reduced the watch area, taking Malaysia off the list. Forty minutes later, about the time the wave had originally been predicted to hit Penang, they canceled the Indian Ocean warning entirely. Thank goodness! Big sigh of relief!

Malaysian Public Toilets

There's a good chance that one of the first things you'll experience in Malaysia is using the public toilet. You could ask someone "Tandas di mana?" or just look around until you see the universal male/female signs for the bathroom. (On a side note, I once almost entered a room clearly labeled "Perempuan" which means "Woman" to use the toilet before realizing it was the gender-segregated Muslim prayer room.)  When you walk into a stall, you may see this.

It's a squat toilet!

If you're not in the mood to try out a squat toilet, 99.9% of the time there's at least one stall with a Western-style sitting toilet. Just wait until one is available, and indicate to others in line that they are welcome to use the stall with the squat toilet. You may notice that the stall doors go all the way down to the floor. I guess that if people are squatting, they don't want people peeking under just to check if the stall is empty.

The only time that a squat toilet was my only option was in a more rural town than Penang. That experience had me going home and Googling "How to use a squat toilet." Believe me, for a lady, it's not as intuitive as it sounds.

Some people accustomed to squatting have the opposite culture shock problem when faced with a sitting toilet. Upon occasion, you'll notice footprints on the sitting toilet's seat. I guess that's the reason some places post this sign.

Please don't squat on the sitting toilet.

It's interesting that the Western versus Asian toilet styles diverged long before the onset of modern sanitation.  When we were visiting a mock-Edo period village in Japan last week, I noticed that their pretend outhouse literally had just a hole in the wooden floor that was best used while squatting. Compare this to a Texan outhouse.

This outhouse had bench seating for two people.

All toilets whether they're for squatting or sitting usually have a flexible hose next to it. The nice places also have a sprayer attachment on the hose's end. The less fancy places skip the hose and sprayer entirely and just have a bucket of water with a ladle.

Hose off to stay fresh.

Many locals, especially the Muslims, feel that you need to rinse with water down there in order to really clean everything off. Typically the floor and seat are both wet from the spraying down process. Sometimes the walls are wet, too. If you have a hang up about splashed-on potties and floors, get over it before you visit Malaysia! I am sooooo glad that my kids are no longer toddlers because I suspect that they would have hit me with a jet of water or dabbled their hands in the water bucket. When a public restroom doesn't have a hose or bucket, I've seen locals fill up a water bottle at the sink and then bring it in with them for a little squirt cleansing. If everything else gets this wet, I don't understand how they keep from soaking their clothes with water, too.

All that water spraying around is the reason why you rarely find toilet paper in the stalls. Look for it by the sinks or next to the entrance/exit before finding a stall. Many times, it doubles as the way to dry off after hand-washing, too. I carry around tissue paper with me for all the times that the toilet paper is completely absent from the facility.

At hubby's work, numerous companies shared a public bathroom. For a while, toilet paper was never stocked in the bathroom because no one wanted to donate it for another company's use. Instead, hubby's company kept their stash next to the door closest to the bathroom hallway. Employees were supposed to grab what they needed for that one trip on their way out the door. I hear that this especially galled the males since it announced to the world if they were intending to do #1 or #2. Not cool. Due to employee feedback, the revolutionary decision was made to start keeping toilet paper in the bathroom itself. Now all they need to do is invent quick-drying stalls.

A Very Asian Christmas

I'm back in Texas for a visit home right now, and boy, does it feel good. I've traded shorts and tees for pants and jackets. I found it a little difficult to get into the holiday spirit in Penang where, located so near to the equator, the daylight hours are still long, and the weather is hot. We drove around my childhood Houston neighborhood today looking at Christmas lights, something that we didn't really see in Penang. Strings of lights are sold there, but they're put up to celebrate Hari Raya (End of Ramadan) and Diwali (Hindu Festival of Lights).

Christmas is a public holiday in Malaysia, but it ranks far below Chinese New Year and all the Muslim and Indian holidays. It's actually been kind of nice to not have the commercial aspects of Christmas in my face all the time, allowing me to dial back the craziness. No TV shows or magazines enticed me to dazzle everyone with cooking feasts or transform my home into a Winter Wonderland.  Normally, I spend at least 2 days decorating the house, but in Penang, it took me all of an hour to set up the small tree and put out the few Christmas items we shipped over.

My kids were at somewhat of a loss when trying to figure out what to put on their lists for Santa since we've had zero toy catalogs in the mail or commercials on TV.  (Don't worry. They dug deep and were able to come up with items for their wish list.) LEGOs cost more than double what they do in the USA, by the way. Not surprisingly, American Girl dolls are completely absent.

The Christmas spirit isn't totally lacking in Penang. At the expat grocery store, there were a few displays of Christmas decor and foods. It actually reminded me of World Market in America with their selection of German stollens, Italian panettones, and British mince pies. The malls do deck the halls, but Santa doesn't hang out there waiting to greet children dressed in their holiday finery.

Kuala Lumpur's Suria Mall

An American friend hosted an ornament-making afternoon for the young'uns followed by a dinner of spaghetti and meatballs. I managed to put together a cookie decorating party. What I could typically accomplish with one trip to Michael's took me an entire school day of driving to nine stores looking for sprinkles plus pipe cleaners, stick-on googly eyes and red crystals or pompoms to make Rudolf the Reindeer candy canes. Imagine pantomiming "googly eyes" to a saleslady who isn't fluent in English. She shook her head and sent me away, probably thinking that I was crazy.

Hubby's company had a potluck and gift exchange, complete with caroling. My son's middle school teacher even hosted a field trip to her house so the kids could decorate cupcakes and share gifts in a homey environment. My daughter's class made ornaments encouraging everyone to "Remember the reason for the season." So true!

Flying to Texas, we stopped in Hong Kong and Los Angeles where we witnessed some airport merriment. Hong Kong had a giant Christmas tree plus a Gingerbread man to greet you. At LAX, we saw Santa Claus walking through the terminal followed by the Grinch disguised as Santa.

Two hottie helpers at the Hong Kong airport

Anyways, I got my wish — to be home for Christmas.

Merry Christmas Y'all!

Selamat Hari Krismas!

Almost Everyone Drives on the Left Side

AWAS! That means "caution" or "beware" in Malaysia. Take it to heart if you ever decide to hit the roads here.

Driving on the left side is, in itself, not as mind-boggling as I was worried it would be. After a couple days on the road, I've pretty much adjusted. At first, I'd forget that the car extended to the LEFT of me and would unintentionally straddle lanes. Also, the turn signal and windshield wiper controls are flipped, so I'll often turn on my wipers when I mean to signal a turn. I'm now comfortable enough with driving so that I don't turn around and tell the kids a heartfelt, "Always remember that I love you," whenever I start the engine. However, I still haven't reached the point where I can simultaneously drive and listen to music.

I've never properly appreciated road planners in America. In fact, I've probably complained about them and their crazy ideas. But now that I've driven over here, I'll never take them and good design for granted again. There's a main one-way thoroughfare in Penang that's three lanes wide... until it suddenly turns into two lanes with all of 2 meters of warning. Bam! Just like that, my lane has disappeared. Lanes disappear and reappear so that you can't just pick one lane and stick with it if you want to drive down the road.

On a daily basis, I'll be in a through lane, but there's something else immobile in it. Sometimes it's a row of cars parked in the narrow lane, so that I have to move over to get by. Sometimes it's a truck making a delivery. Once, I came out of a roundabout and dodged a restaurant that had extended it's patio dining into the middle of the road.

Scooters abound over here, and they're constantly darting in and out of traffic. They are the prime culprits of driving the wrong way on a divided road. Part of me knows that in a game of chicken, my minivan will win. On the other hand, I'd feel really guilty running head on into the scooter and the family of four riding on it. But I don't want to stereotype. I've also encountered a lorry driving the wrong way, too. ("Lorry" = "Truck"; Malaysia belonged to the British until the late-1950s, so the English language has a definite British slant to it.)

The other difficulty with driving is that I don't know the Malay language, so I don't understand some of the signs. I was driving down the road that Clark likens to the twisty part of 2222 in Austin. Suddenly, I see the sign "AWAS". Caution! Okay, that's fine. I understand that. But then the next sign says "AWAS  Blah Blah Blah". The sign after that one says "AWAS BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH!!!!!" Clearly, something bad is about to come up. And then -- no kidding -- comes "AWAS" with a skull and crossbones under it. I'm still alive, so I dodged whatever danger was on the road, but I'd really like to know what it said. For the record, Andy interpreted this all as "School Bus Stop Ahead."