I’ve been in Malaysia for over a week, and it is an exciting place full of learning opportunities. It is a majority muslim country that, in addition to the Muslim Malay population, is also home to large populations of Indian Hindus and Chinese Buddhists. There’s a lot of mixing of cultures, religions, races, and food (although, there’s definitely still segregation and racism). The country was also part of the British Empire until 1957 or 1963, depending on how you count it. Either way, when my parents were born, it was a British colony. Whoa.
You can still see some traces of colonialism, in more than just the architecture in the cities. The Malay language (Bahasa Melayu = BM) is the main language spoken here, but its alphabet was changed over to the latin one (i.e. the same alphabet as English). In fact, in addition to BM, Tamil, and Chinese, quite a few people speak English, especially in cities. People drive on the left here, and I have heard their hospitals are quite good.
Despite the presence of the British, I have been in places where I have not seen many (or any) white people around. From the stares, you can tell they don’t get a lot of people who look like me passing through (especially since I am also probably taller than the average man here). In Taiping, my friend who is teaching English here (she’s American but of Chinese descent), asked me to wait in the car while she dropped something off because my whiteness would likely cause pandemonium. Again, whoa.
Malaysia has also presented me with my first visit into a mosque. I have, of course, seen many mosques before, but never covered up my head and went inside the grounds. They tend to be lovely buildings, with domes and minarets, and the National Mosque in KL was no exception. It was a stunning building, and we were warmly welcomed by a volunteer who was very excited to talk to us and teach us a little about his religion.
I would probably say Malaysia is the least developed (and least Western-oriented) country I have been to so far – except maybe China. I’m definitely missing some of the comforts of home. Like showers. Showers here are basically a shower head on the wall of the bathrooms. Which is fine, at least there’s running water and a water heater! But there is no way to keep the whole room from getting soaked, which is not as nice when you are sharing a bathroom and constantly have to sit on a wet toilet.
I also miss general cleanliness. The rivers here are at least as disgusting and brown/orange as many of the South American rivers, if not worse. There’s visible litter everywhere. Even up in the Cameron Highlands, where people go to enjoy the fresh air and beautiful nature, plastic bottles and other rubbish litter the sides of the roads. Air pollution is high, air quality is low, and visible haze permeates the air around. It’s also so humid that I just sweat and generally feel gross all the time. Ah, the tropics.
But that’s just it. There’s a saying “life begins at the end of your comfort zone.” Being uncomfortable forces you to realize that you can deal with it. There’s a lot of “well, that’s not ideal but I can work with that” moments. You learn to plan ahead. You learn to carry your own tp and hand sanitizer. Being uncomfortable also reminds you to appreciate the times when you are comfortable. Learning about new cultures and places, but also learning more about yourself is the very reason I travel. Why do you travel?