Motorcycle Mama in Malaysia

At 53 years old I learned to drive a motorcycle. My husband was convinced this could be our mode of transportation for several years and was a patient, enthusiastic, encouraging teacher. The first several heart-pounding attempts to "ride solo" amounted to a drive down our lane in 1st gear and making sure I understood the brakes. Several days later, I got brave enough to shift into 2nd and make a u-turn in the cul-de-sac. Four days of that actually got a embarrassing as the maids and gardeners looked on.

The first day I decided to take the motorcycle for a ride while Eric was at work  consisted of  straddling the Yamaha 150cc and walking it from the car port to the street. Once on the street I mentally went through all the steps to start it: squeeze the clutch with my left hand, put in neutral with left foot, squeeze the brake with right hand, push the ignition with right thumb, rev the engine, gradually release the clutch and turn the throttle. I tried not to close my eyes as I started rolling.

The neighborhood workers got a big kick out of my progress. Some even clapped their hands when, after a slow spin around the neighborhood in 2nd gear, I arrived home safely in one piece albeit it with turn signal blinking. (Why don't turn signals don't automatically turn off, anyway?!...)

Fast forward two months and I'm now a "motorcycle mama in Malaysia." Like my fellow Malaysian bikers, I can now weave the cycle through rows of cars waiting for the green light and join the ten or more scooters and motorcycles at the front of the line.  Waiting for the light to turn green, my left foot stomps the whatchamacallit down into first, I rev the throttle with my right hand and I smile confidently at the 14 year old boys envying the bike. (Darn..and I thought it was me they were looking at) As soon as the light turns green they try to prove their masculinity with their Chinese scooters and race into the intersection. I  let them feel manly as they ahead down the road, but  it's not difficult to catch them as they putter forward, smoke billowing from behind, illuminating a slightly flat rear tire.

This motorcycle mama can now ride in the motorcycle lane with confidence and no longer panic when a fellow cyclist chooses to ride against traffic. The unwritten law in that situation is that I move to the right of the motorcycle lane and the guy (I've never seen a girl riding against traffic) moves to the left...Considering we drive on the left here (British style) that little "unwritten rule" used to be quite scary. Do I go left, right, stop, die?...

I thank Eric every day that he bought a biggish motorcycle. (I know 150 cc is small by US standards but almost everyone has very tiny scooters over here so ours is big in comparison.) I actually feel safer being to ride at the speed of traffic, especially when I need to change lanes to make a right turn than I do on my bicycle, or I did when I used to ride the motorcycle really slowly. To put the "speed" thing in perspective, the normal speed here in town  is about 60 kph (about 30 mph). On a small highway, I once got the speed up to 80 kph (49 mph) but it felt like my helmet was going to blow off so I slowed down.

My favorite ride is to and from the gym. I've mentioned the sweating problem of exercise caused by intensity, humidity, and no air conditioning and the motorcycle ride is the perfect anecdote. The wind in my face - I have to leave the helmet face guard up for the first few blocks to prevent fogging - and through my shirt acts like the perfect evaporator air cooler. And on a really good day, I make all the lights, so sweat doesn't pour across my eyelids, down my chin, and out the bottom of the helmet while waiting for the light to turn.

Now it's time for a bit of honesty. I like to think of myself as a" motorcycle mama", but I can't honestly put myself in the same league as some of the local "mamas", I would need to add a few more "rider skills" to my repertoire. For example to be considered a really competent motorcycle mama I would need to be able to:

1. Light a cigarette at a red light. Smoke the cigarette as much as I can, and let the lighted butt dangle between my left fingers until the next red light where I can finish it.

2. Light the cigarette and continue bringing the cigarette to my lips with my left hand while driving with my right hand. I guess here's where a scooter could be an advantage...no clutch needed.

3. Text while driving the motorcycle.

4. Text while driving on the wrong side of the motorcycle lane.

5. Pick up three children from school and give them a ride home: toddler standing in the basket in front, elementary age child squeezed in the middle (gives a whole new meaning to middle child) and oldest child hanging off the back with one or two school bags hanging off his or her back.

6. Drive with high heels or flip-flops.

7. Carry 3 natural gas canisters.

I guess I've got some more practicing to do.

NB. The motorcycle as transport is nice in theory. Rain, speed bumps, a week's worth of groceries, and two riders at one time make this NOT such a comfortable ride for the long haul. But it sure is fun for short errands!

Monkeying Around at the Monkey Park

Located less than 5 minutes from my house is a monkey park. I've heard many stories about the naughty monkeys in this park so I was a little bit shy about going....

Here's a conversation I had with a taxi driver:

Driver: Have you been to the monkey park yet?
Me: Not yet, but I'd like to!
Driver: You must go in the evening. The monkeys are more active then. Also, bring them some food. They like food.
Me: Like bananas?
Driver: Yes and mangoes, rambutan, durian, papaya. It doesn't matter. They like it all. But be careful. The monkeys are naughty.
Me: How so?
Driver: They will attack you.
Me: Oooh. Yuk.  Have they got diseases?
Driver: I don't know. Just be sure to put the food in a plastic bag. Tie the bag shut. Throw it out of the car window before you get out of the car. Then they won't attack you.
Me: Plastic bag. Got it.....(thinking a bit) Do they eat the plastic bag?
Driver: Sometimes. And sometimes they are clever and open the bag and just let the empty bags hang from the mangrove trees.

Monkeys eating durian or pineapple ( couldn't get close enough to tell)

Here's a conversation I had with a neighbor:

Neighbor: Have you been to the monkey park yet?
Me: No,. I think I'd like to, but I don't want to be attacked.
Neighbor: Yes, the monkeys are very naughty. I take my kids but they won't get out of the car. I throw the bag of rotten bananas out the window. After the monkeys have grabbed the bag and climbed to the top of a tree,  I venture out of the car.
Me: What else do the monkeys eat?
Neighbor: Peanuts, tin cans, plastic lids..Pretty much everything.
Me: I'll have to go sometime...

Here's a conversation I had with a different neighbor:

Neighbor: Have you been to the monkey park yet?
Me: No, but it's on my list.
Neighbor: It's hilarious. I go every night. Last night this monkey took the car keys from a Malay father's hand...apparently the keys were in the bag of fruit. Then the monkey climbed to the top of a very tall mangrove tree to enjoy his booty. The Malay family was begging the monkey to come down. "Please monkey, please monkey, give us back our keys." The monkey ate the fruit. The monkey tried to eat the keys. The monkey pressed the alarm button on the car. Beep, Beep, Beep. The Malay family kept begging. The monkey kept teasing. The, the monkey held the keys out at arm's length and dropped them into the swamp. Kerplunk.
Me: Oh, no! And then what happened?
Neighbor: The dad reached into the mucky, dirty, poop-filled swamp and tried to retrieve the keys.
Me: Was he successful?
Neighbor: Not while I was there.

Monkeys on mangrove tree in swamp

Anyway, tonight while biking through the neighborhood, I made the random decision to bike on over and see what everyone has been talking about. I hadn't planned ahead so I didn't have any food, which based on some of the stories, seemed like a good idea.

There were a mixture of brave souls at the park following monkeys around trying to snap cute pictures with their cameras. There were many who were charmed by the monkey antics but who remained locked in their cars and snapped photos through their tinted glass.  There were the "couples" who appeared to be on dates. The brave boyfriends cautiously left their cars to approach the monkeys while their reluctant dates cowered in their hermetically sealed vehicles cheering on their brave men.

One girlfriend who must have been getting hot wearing heavy clothing from head to foot, cracked her car window about six inches to let in some fresh air and took a loud slurp of her super-sized soft drink. A ballsy monkey must have heard her slurp jumped right up to the open window to have a taste. She shrieked all while trying to roll up the window as quickly as possible.

And then there's not-so-brave-but-really-need-some-Facebook-photos me. Having only brought my cell phone,  I needed to get up close and personal. My first several attempts were not too bad. The monkeys would walk towards me until they figured out that I had nothing to offer. Then, they'd turn, scratch their butts or armpits and walk away. I got a few pictures. But I wanted to capture the expressions on their faces, their babies hanging from their mom's fur, their playful rough and tumble behavior. I got a little braver.

Unfortunately one monkey was not pleased. She (I learned that she was a "she" for reasons I'll explain a little later) pulled back her upper lip, bared her teeth and starting walking towards me with a low growl. At first I started kicking my feet, backing away from her, emitting my "I'm scared phenoms" and saying "No, No!" But then, I remembered that I'm about five feet taller than her with opposing thumbs that used to be able to play a Bach Fugue, and I'd watched the movie "Gorillas in the Mist" with Sigourney Weaver playing Dian Fossey, the gorilla lady so, I held my ground,  looked her (the girl monkey) straight in the eye, raised my upper lip, and showed her that my teeth are bigger than hers.

Just then her monkey boyfriend approached from behind....behind her...that is. Obviously I'd interrupted a little monkey business at the park. With my big teeth and gums showing,  I gradually backed away slowly walked to my bicycle. The two monkeys lost interest in me and resumed their activity while the song "Discovery Channel Song" played in my head.

Next time I'll bring fruit in a baggie. And, I'll be smarter than the average monkey. I won't put my keys in the bag.

A Daytrip to Taiping- Malaysia

The name Taiping has had me enthralled since moving to Malaysia. I didn't know why I recognized the name Taiping, but it sounded like something I'd read about, and because it's only about two hours away, I knew I needed to visit. Today was the day...

The drive north was uneventful but the arrival to the historical center confirmed that this was a good destination for a day trip. The clean, fresh air and the thick fog, slowly lifting to reveal the lush green mountain behind the calm lakes and ponds of the Lake Gardens, was a welcome respite to the rather industrial setting of Lumut, our home.

Our first stop was to walk around the Lake Gardens. I could feel the British influence with the gardens looking a bit like a miniature Hyde Park with palm and mangrove trees. However, the presence of wild monkeys and the picnic areas with Chinese-style roofs and bridges reminded me that I was in Malaysia. I walked within five feet of a mama monkey wielding a large stick in one hand and cuddling her newborn baby in the other. Needless to say, I was trying to snap pictures without rousing her wrathful, protective attention.

Mama monkey with baby cuddled in left hand and large stick (can't see) in right.

The next stop was the Allied War cemetery marking the deaths of over 850 war causalities with over 500 unidentified soliders killed during the Japanese occupation of Malaysia during WWII.

The next stop, a fact-finding trip to the base of Bukit Larut (Maxwell's Hill) informed me that we need to be in line at 7:30 am for the first-come-first-served 30 minute, 13 kilometer Land Rover trip to the top of the 1250 meter above sea level mountain. Unfortunately, tickets were sold out for today. The 13 kilometer hike to the top will be a goal for another day.

Base of climb to Maxwell's Hill

Labu Pottery at Perak State Museum

The next stop on the journey was the Perak State Museum. The building itself it nice to see and some of the artifacts inside helped me to better understand the culture and the flora and fauna of the area. The expressions on some of the stuffed animals made me think the taxidermist had a sense of humor, ( a lot of the dead animals were smiling...maybe he heard the radio commercial  telling us to smile- see earlier blog post---) but I'm not sure I actually want to see some of these animals in real life to confirm my theory. The wild cats, the giant flying rodents, the armored ant and termite eaters, the 24- foot long crocodile skeleton, and the python skeleton of the same length are kind of creepy and not something I want to meet in real life.


All during the day I was haunted by the idea that I should know Taiping for some reason. Thank goodness for the internet as I'm sure now, that I was confusing Taiping, China with Taiping, Malaysia. Here's what Wikipedia says about the Taiping Rebellion, that occurred in China. (I vaguely remember a tick on a time-line I'm sure I had to memorize in high school World History class.)

The Taiping Rebellion was a massive civil war in southern China from 1850 to 1864, against the ruling Manchu-led Qing Dynasty. It was a millenarian movement led by Hong Xiuquan, who announced that he had received visions in which he learned that he was the younger brother of Jesus. At least 20 million people died, mainly civilians, in one of the deadliest military conflicts in history.

So then I wondered where Taiping, Malaysia got its name. Prior to being called Taiping, it was called Klian Puah. (Klian means "mine" and Puah is a type of mango) .Again from Wikipedia I learned that the discovery of tin brought lots of Chinese workers to Malaysia although the vicious  deadly fights among many of the different Chinese clans forced the British to intervene. In addition , 

many Hakka had fled China when the Taiping Rebellion broke out there and found work in the mines of Chung Keng Quee ... from 1860 to 1884.

Although there has been a decline in tin mining deposits in the area, tin, rubber and rice continue to be important products in the Taiping economy. Many of the businesses maintain the Chinese shop house architecture while many government buildings have the Colonial architecture style. There are Catholic, Methodist, British and International schools along with the traditional Malay schools.Taiping is also the wettest place in Malaysia and a heavy downpour beginning in early afternoon confirmed that fact.

Although the tourist guides books give scant mention to Taiping, it is well worth a day trip.

Writer's Block

I have writer's block and not because I have nothing to say. Quite the opposite is true. I have so many thoughts and ideas swirling through my brain that I don't know where to begin. Nothing seems important, or interesting, or funny, or unique when there are elderly parents that need help and the solutions are not ideal...

I could write about

- driving, or more specifically,  navigating in Malaysia while making at least six wrong turns trying to drive Eric to Kuala Lumpur for a trip to the States, and more than double that number trying to exit.

- returning home to Lumut after a grueling five hour (125 mile drive - 25 mph average pace)  to find my internet down.

- thrice daily trips to Starbucks to take advantage of WiFi for making calls and writing emails to family in the States.

- the kindness, helpfulness, and smile by the nice worker at the internet provider.

- the cows tied to trees in front of the local mosques yesterday followed by the crowds of men and boys gleefully slaughtering those cows for the Eid holiday.

- the man riding to the mosque for first prayer call this morning on his motorcycle, passing me on my bicycle, throwing his plastic baggie of trash onto the shoulder and then looking around to see if I noticed.

Yes, I could write about all of these things in detail, but nothing seems really important as I sort through trying to be caring, responsible, supportive wife helping a spouse learn about caring for elderly parents.

A Malaysian Cooking Lesson

This afternoon Rina and her sister Ferah came to my house to give a Malaysian cooking lesson to my friend and me.

Rena in purple and Ferah in yellow.

Rina comes from a family of good cooks including her mom who made me a delicious meal last weekend and a sister who is a chef at a local restaurant. In addition, Rina used to teach cooking at the local community college so she knows how to cook and to give cooking lessons. 

Coconut paste, coconut powder...I never knew there was anything besides the "shaved coconut" we use for baking cookies.

I took pictures of the ingredients because there were several that we couldn't identify. Even though Rena's husband translated and typed up the recipes for us, some words did not translate well. We still don't know what "rustle 5 blade" is. Nor are we 100% sure what "serai" is except that it smells like lemongrass. (It looks like scallions but it's hard and stiff like bamboo) We have no idea what Asam Jawal paste is but the picture on the pack leads us to believe that it's lotus paste or stinky bean (my name) paste.

From left to right - turmeric, star anise, cinnamon, whole cumin (feel free to correct me on any of these)

Just to show you how ignorant I am about cooking, I did not know cumin came in a seed (I only thought it was a McCormick powder that Rachel Ray likes to add to chili powder to give a nice "smokey" flavor to a hamburgers) I'd never seen a pretty anise star. They would be fun to glue on a picture and make a collage. In other words, it's embarrassing not to be able to buy spices by look or smell but rather rely on jars with labels in English. Hopefully, these lessons will be good for my future endeavors.

Serai - (lemongrass - we think)

Rina cooking the Rendang Chicken

Rena, the head chef,  did most of the cooking and her sister Ferah, the assistant, did most of the dishes.  Not only do I have delicious food for dinner, I've got a clean kitchen to boot.

Kari Ayam - Curry Chicken simmering on the stove.

Aside from the fun of learning something new, my friend and I also can impress our husbands with our "home-cooked" meal for tonight's dinner. Speaking of dinner, I need to make a quick pot of rice and warm the chicken so the house will smell good when my husband walks in the door.

Learning Proper Behavior from the Radio

I'll have to admit it.  I haven't listened to the radio is several years. But with our recent long-term car rental, we now have a  radio which means "company" while I'm driving. It took me awhile to figure out how to turn on the radio, and I still haven't learned how to change channels. Luckily, the current station, FLY FM (no joke, those are the call letters) is in English so I'm what you might call a "captive" audience. In addition to English speaking DJ's (although they add "la" to everything as in "Ok, la" "Let's listen to Justin Bieber, la" and "Really,la?")  I'm getting enough exposure to Brittany Spears' "You've Gotta Work, Work*", Carly Rae Jepsen's "Call Me Maybe", and Justin Bieber's "Heartbreaker" to actually learn the words even though I have to admit that 2 or 3 times per hour is a little excessive. But, my favorite part of FLY FM are the commercials....a.k.a..public service announcements that teaches me proper personal behavior and social etiquette. Here are the six things (paraphrased unless the words are in quotation marks from the radio skits) that I've learned so far:

1. Smile - I should smile even it I don't feel like smiling. I should "fake it" and then I will feel happy. My smile will make everyone else happy, too.

2. Don't crowd in lines - I should stand at least 3 "foot lengths" behind the person in front of me. No one wants to "smell what I had for lunch" or "catch my crappy cough".

3. Don't procrastinate - Even if I think I'm very "creative under pressure" it's not good for me to procrastinate. I should plan ahead. It will make me happy and everyone else in Malaysia happy, too.

4. Don't spit - I've never actually thought about spitting in public but now I'm really aware that I shouldn't do it in Malaysia.

5. Expand my social network - I should make new friends, get a hobby, join a club. It will make me happy and happy people are good for Malaysia.

6. Be on time - It's not good to keep my friends and/or co-workers waiting. It's good for work and good for Malaysia to be prompt.

Listening to the radio has provided interesting insight into a culture and it's cultural norms.

*I just learned that the second "work" is actually another word. Either I'm hearing the song incorrectly, or it's been edited for the audience.

Focus on Food - Part 3 - Where I Prepare It.

My Malaysian Kitchen

I'm pretty lucky as far as Malaysian kitchens are concerned. I have a two-burner gas stove top, a microwave oven, a small portable "oven", a rice steamer, a hot water pot, a coffee maker, and a blender. All of these appliances are located in what I call the house-maid's kitchen which is a hold-over from when the kitchens were located outside and a very, short (smaller than 5 feet tall)  housemaid stir-fried or cooked over an open flame. Some houses have a second, more modern kitchen with taller, bigger and more beautiful counter tops next to the housemaid's kitchen. Although we have the space for just such a kitchen we haven't installed one because we need storage for our "exercise mats" and "bicycles", and we want the extra money for travel.

Here's the order of appliance use from most used to least:

Hot water pot - Occasionally we drink tea but mostly I boil water for dish washing. My housekeepers use it to boil water for mopping the floor. I also use it to dilute my coffee because we have a little two-cup coffee maker so I make it really strong and dilute it.

Coffee maker - We bike every morning at 4:45. Enough said.

Gas stove top - It has two temperatures, hot or off. To compensate, I stir-fry most things and burn just about just about everything else. I make a pretty mean fajita and my own version of Chinese food. But aside from that we eat a lot of burnt sausages, burnt grilled cheese, over-hard eggs, and burnt-on the outside, pink-on-the-inside hamburgers and tough Australian wanna-be steaks.

Blender/Chopper - I can't remember when I last used my blender in the US but here I use it at least once a day. With all this short-shelf-life,  inexpensive, tropical fruit smoothies and juices make a great, refreshing, potassium refilling drink..As a matter of fact, trying to drink enough water has been a constant battle for me. With the humidity, I seldom feel thirsty but my skin and lips can always attest to the fact that I need liquids. The fruit smoothies are helping.

Microwave - I use it for "baking" potatoes and reheating things..I never was very creative with a microwave.

Steamer - On the rare ocassion we eat rice at home, I use the steamer. Also, I can steam vegetables, but then it's another pot to clean. (Reference hot water pot above and child-height sink) So, I unhealthily just throw the veggies into the same pan as the meat on the stove top and Stir fry away.

 Oven - This is a new appliance for me and one that we bought with our own money. (I was sure I needed an oven!)  It kind of reminds me of an adult "Easy Bake Oven" without the prepackaged cake kits. The oven works OK for baking some fish or a little chicken but it's not too useful for anything else. (We're wondering if  a small turkey will fit inside). The temperature gauge is Celsuis and, although I made a nifty conversion chart and hung it just above the oven, I don't think the temperature is really accurate or consistent anyway. Another problem is that the oven only works when the timer is on and the timer only goes up to 60 minutes so it's not like, even if I could find  one, a frozen lasagna could cook while I was at work. The oven needs a babysitter.

Well, I gotta run. The spaghetti I've been trying to "simmer" over "high" smells like it's burning. At least the water for the noodles will boil quickly.