Saying Farewell . . .

The Grand Kampar Hotel is the largest and grandest of all the hotels in New Town Kampar. It is located on the main road that intersects in front of my house. At night, the entire onion on top is lit up. Quite grand indeed. My son and his family stayed there several times. There's a swimming pool on the roof and all the most modern facilities in the rooms. Quite posh. Well, you're welcome for the ad, Grand Kampar!

Although rainy season is supposed to be over, we are getting more than our share of rain these days! It rained for two days straight. Of course, the day following all that rain is beautiful and sunny. Then, the humidity quickly gathers again. 

The Plot Thickens

Re-entering Malaysia, they had given me a two-week stamp so that I was required to visit the nearest Immigrations office two weeks after my arrival. So, I got my taxi driver to take me to Ipoh on Friday. As I discovered, Friday is probably the worst day to show up at an Immigrations office. It was shockingly crowded and noisy.

So, I enter the room, but where do I start? It only made sense to go to counter number one, so I did. A man was leaning against the counter, sort of to the side, but the man inside the cage was wrapped up in paperwork, so I waited. Five minutes later, a woman comes close and we exchanged comments. I said,

"I don't know if I'm at the right counter. I just need a form to fill in."

The leaning man turned and said, "Counter number two."

Good to know. I line up with the half dozen at counter two. Their conversation in Malaysian is long and goes on and on. One at a time, they are dismissed until one man remains and I'm next. I ask politely,

"Could I have a form to fill out for a three-month visa?"

Angry look. He ignores me.

The remaining man receives a paper and starts to walk away, then changes his mind. He talks and talks.

I ask again, even more sweetly than before and the man looks at my passport.

"This is final," he says. "Cannot stay longer."

"But they told me at the border that I could come and get a three-month visa," I whined.

"They said you can ask?" he replied, "Go to counter ten."

(Right! Now, I remember. Counter ten is where that lady is that took a hard line with me last time. Thank You, God.)

 So, I sit in the seat. Nobody is around. They all seem to be avoiding me. As soon as I show up, everyone disappears. They let me wait for a reasonable amount of time. I notice the name on the counter is Azlin and see a girl with the name tag "Alin" on her jacket (typo, no doubt) but she's talking to the girl in the next booth.

Now, she's in front of me. I tell her my request and she says, "Must get photo stat (she really means photocopy, but they haven't advanced that far yet) downstairs and form number 55."

Downstairs, wait in the que, pay for photo copy, back upstairs, get form and then, guess what! I go back to counter number two. Why? To get a number. They couldn't just put a little number printing box there that you push the button and get a number.

Casually, I mention to someone, "English? . . ." Nope. No response. Muttering to myself, "I just need a number."

A Chinese man in front of another person turns to me and says (in perfect English), "You stand in this line to get your ticket."

"Oh! You do speak English and very nicely, too," I gushed.

"I just got back from Canada," he said.

"I'm from Canada. What part?"

"Toronto," he said and then he was called off, so he said I could have his place in line, which was a good thing because that line was getting longer and longer and slower and slower. By the time I got up to the front (again), there were these same kind of guys hanging out at the window talking in Malaysian (really it's Indonesian Bahasa which is basically the same language) and the guy behind the counter is ignoring me (again).

An Indian mad standing at the side shares eye rolls with me and I tell him, "All this for a number. They should have a machine that spits out numbers. Do you want me to get you one? If I get up there, I can get you one . . ."

Suddenly the man behind the counter can see me and he is a bit surprised that I am back. "So, they are letting you try again?" he asked.

"Yes," I said, "There is a God."

"What?"

"There is a God," I said quite loudly, come to think of it, "Do you believe in God?"

For the first time, the man actually smiled. He actually had teeth. He handed me the precious number.

When I finally got to counter 11, it was one o'clock. Three hours later. (And, by the way, in Malaysia, it's not a counter, it's a kaunter and they pronounce it, "kunter".)

"This is final," she said. (It was the forbidden lady. I call her that now. She hates me.)

"But, but, . . ."

"I told you before that you cannot come in again after this. What are you doing here? Are you married to a Malaysian man?"

"No," trying not to have any trace of disdain in my voice. . .

"If you were married to a Malaysian man, you could come back and we would give you a proper visa."

I kept my mouth shut. Right, like I'm going to marry a Malaysian.

She disappeared. Then, "My boss said you can stay for one week. One week only. Sit down."

At this point, I resorted to pleading and cajoling, using my Canadian citizenship to press them with,

"I'm a Canadian. I'm a tourist. Why don't you want me in your country?" It fell on deaf ears.

She smugly retorted that if I married a Malaysian, they would help me to get a "proper" visa. The way you're doing it is not the right way. You should get a "Malaysia My Second Home" visa . . . and on and on. . .

Fifteen minutes later, I pick up my passport with yet another visa page taken up with a photocopy of my photo page. (I hate it when they mess up my passport.)

"You must leave the country in less than seven days," she threatens me, "Good-bye. I hope you enjoyed your stay."

"Yes, it was a beautiful country, while it lasted," I moaned.

My head is spinning. Where do I go? My lovely home is all furnished with trees in the yard, a painted school room, a refrigerator, water filter, hot water heater, wardrobe, . . . Now I have to leave.

"Leave! And never come back!" (voice of Gollum, Lord of the Rings II).

Kampar

When I first got to Kampar, I noticed two things that were a bit different than Seremban or K.L. First of all, the mosquitoes were vicious and many, but there were NO cockroaches to be seen! Hallelujah! What a wonderful thing that was. I never saw a single cockroach for the entire time I stayed here in "New Town" Kampar.

Two nights ago, a cockroach flew at me while I was standing out in my yard! What a shock. I had almost forgotten they existed.One of the dogs ate it. The house was my hasty retreat. Since then, I still haven't seen a cockroach. They are a bit rare in the town of Kampar, for some unknown reason, for which I am thankful.

The other thing you notice about Kampar is the humidity. Of course, during rainy season, it gets a lot of rain. But, generally speaking, there is always, always a cloud of water over your head. Talk about a little black cloud over your head. You have it here, day and night.

 

Also, the water buffalo are a bit unusual. Take for instance, just now, -Alfred was barking with his, "I-have- a-right-to-bark!" bark. I looked at him, questioningly and he looked at me, then back to the road. At first I didn't see, but he was definitely barking at something moving in the bush. Maybe someone was worshipping the Buddha idol . . . then, two horns appeared and I saw it! The biggest of the water buffalo, right in front of Alfred's nose, poking around at the idol! I agreed with Alfred and advised him that the water buffalo was naughty, so he should keep barking.He did. And, his mother joined him.

Alfred knows that those water buffalo are no friends of ours, ever since they attacked us on our walk!



 Durian is my favourite fruit, although it seems more
like a pudding to me than a fruit. It's just so devine.
I was first introduced to it in Thailand, back in the 80's and I guess it really depends on what sort of
mood you're in when you try your first taste of this
amazing food. Because of its smell, many people
from outside of SE Asia refuse to even try it.
Admittedly, it does smell like a sewer. It has been said "Durian smells like hell and tastes like heaven."
It's just so cute to look at too. All soft and wrinkly.







 This is one of my granddaughters, one of my "pearls of the orient", born right here in Malaysia!

Yesterday, while walking the dogs beside a little creek, I was able to observe two monitor lizards. They climbed down the bank on the other side of the creek. The part Samoi dog, Alfred stood there at attention watching as they came closer. But, I told him not to move and he stood so still, they calmly proceeded into the water without a glitch. They were almost as long as Alfred, but not as big as we have seen them before.

The birds around here are also amazing. An entourage of white birds follow the water buffalo wherever they go. You know, those white birds that stand on their backs. What are they called again? And we have herons. I love herons. Majestic birds.

One of these colourful birds, a White Throated King Fisher, was sitting still as a post on a post beside the road as I drove past on my bike. Just gorgeous colour on his back.

Crazy as it may seem, there are rooms upstairs over the shop lots that are specially designated for birds. I guess they attract them with syrup or something so that the birds go into the room and build their nests on the walls.

There are swallows that build their nests with their saliva. The nest is a delicate little cup all made from bird saliva and that's what they make birds' nest soup from! Yeah, it's supposed to be a cure-all magic pill type deal.

Well, one of my students told me that her uncle took her to one of these places where they collect the nests and he had her "clean" one of them. She said it was a lot of work and took hours to clean one nest. But, apparently they get a better price if they ship the nest already cleaned. 

More Crystals

Crystals from Crystal Mountain in Seremban, Malaysia.



They stick out of the limestone and you pick em up and take em home and wash them. So pretty!

Seremban Crystals

 When we (my son, his wife and their children) were staying in Seremban, we went for hikes to a place called Crystal Mountain where we came across these beautiful crystals, just sticking out of the ground.

 Since we didn't have jeweller's tools and since we really didn't know how to clean them up, they stayed pretty raw-looking, yet still beautiful.

Here, my son and my grandson are washing up part of a load they retrieved on a hike.

Around Kampar

We may be out in boony-land, but we're not too far away to be reached by the golden arches of McD's with their colourful playroom. Now, who is that Western kid over there? One of SEVEN, you say? Oh, my!

It may surprise you to know that they will be opening a new SKATING RINK right in my front yard! Yes, folks, I brought civilization with me! As I speak, there is a huge truck in front of my house. Of course, it's driving all the dogs mad, especially mine. And there's all these men putting up electric lights along the road! Infrastructure! Hurray! There's a big mall going in, so I guess they figure the light is necessary now.

But, oh my goodness -the dump! It's getting worse and worse and worse every day. People are dumping loads of garbage all along the pathway down into the valley. A lot of it is left-over building supplies, furniture, mattresses, and such. It's not a lot of foodstuff, thank heavens. But, the combination of rain and sun on it produces a stench all the same. We'll see if the new mall will bring about a change in this area.

Teacher Brenda's school room. I painted it for my Junior Class, but university students also study here. They don't seem too distracted by the puffy clouds.

Home Sweet Home

 This is my front yard in Kampar, Malaysia. It would be hard for you to locate it since there are several hundred yards exactly like this one. My house is attached to the houses on either side, so we are quite cozy.

Two doors down a Policeman lives with his family. He came to my gate one day bearing gifts to welcome me to the neighborhood! It was some kind of salty stuff in the shape of a crisp with peanuts in it. Anyway, good to know there's a Policeman living so close.

 Here's a shot of my wascally gwand-wabbits. They're a bit older than this now. Another welcoming party!

                 My living room and front entrance. On the other side of the left wall, there is the master bedroom.

Both dogs were in the yard to welcome me home from my weary travels. I had walked for about half an hour after disboarding the bus on the other side of the housing development. When I asked the bus driver if he could let me down, he insisted that it was raining and I'd get wet and on and on. . . So, he continued driving past where I needed to get off, making the distance even longer for me to walk back! And, besides, it really wasn't raining at all. Just a little drizzle. Refreshing actually when you have to walk with two back-packs for a mile or so...

This is the clong in Hatyai, reflecting the
houses that I took a pic of before.

                                                             Magic plastic. It's fantastic.

                 A wall and some trees. That black stuff, as you know, is mold. Black, deadly mold. Oh my.

So, what happened was, I found a nice clean-looking cafe and, since there were no customers, I went in. I thought I could possibly find myself a decent cup of coffee and maybe even get on the internet. Fat chance. The delightful girl there tried hard to get my laptop online, to the point that she even put her android in front of me and said I could use that. Well, that didn't do much good, since I needed to download stuff off my own laptop and couldn't do so without a connection. But, I drank the coffee. It was ok. And, I told her I'd be back.

Later, I wandered around and found a ticket agency, so bought a bus ticket back to Ipoh. Then, I went back to see Bua at her coffee shop. I noticed she had cake, so I got a piece and invited her to sit with me, since there weren't many customers, just her family members around. It turned out that she made her own cakes. It was her dream, since she was a little girl, to make cakes and sell them. We talked about food and she asked if I knew what Miso was. (I actually didn't know exactly what it was but later found out that it's either beans or grains in a mashed down form that you can add to soup stock, etc.) She showed me her Miso and I asked her if she could make me some. So, she threw in some tofu and seaweed and I was overjoyed. It was probably the most healthy meal I'd eaten since leaving Malaysia.

Bua wouldn't let me pay for the soup because she said it wasn't on the menu. She invited me to go with her to deliver some cakes to a hospital, to tour the town and to pick up some cake ingredients. We went to a Macro, which had absolutely everything imaginable and unimaginable. I was quite surprised to see the stuff they had! I mean, everything! Then, on to her brother's drink shop. After that, we went out for dinner. She ended up inviting me to stay at her place the next time I was in Thailand. She said she had a spare room.

So, in a way, I was sorry to have to leave Hatyai. I got to see a different side of it from an air-conditioned car. Neverthless, I have to admit, getting across the border back into Malaysia felt good. Something about being able to speak English and something about the familiarity of the country is just reassuring in some way.

Back at the house in Bandar Baru Jaya, both of the dogs were there to welcome me! That could only mean that Tim had dropped by. Still, there was no evidence that he'd brought the kids. They had stayed at a hotel in Kampar. But, the female dog had been in the back yard when Tim came. I guess she is starting to feel more at home at my house. (Previously both dogs took off back to Tim's house for three days! I had to go get them.)

Home sweet Home. Where the buffalo literally roam. In fact, next morning, when I took the dogs for their daily constitutional, there were several big old buffalo right in the bush beside our path, so we all had to turn back and take our walk into the housing development. 

For Your Shopping Pleasure...

Child mannequins looking pretty wild.

I have no idea what that sign says.

 Shopping is just too much work! You have to dig your way through ALL THIS STUFF everywhere! And
then suddenly, you're almost right on top of a whole table of delicate china dishes that nearly crashes to the floor as you pass by.

 These will only fit if you are a Thai-sized girl. ...you know, or a twelve-year old girl from the West...

 These lovely school girls were a bit shy, but let me take their picture because I told them I was doing an article on tourism in Thailand and was taking pictures of Thai people and ...they believed me...

 Shops and houses along one of the filthy clongs. The wall at the bottom of the pic goes into the water

                                          A Buddhist monk doing what Buddhist monks do...

Disoriented in the Orient? Look for McD's!

 If you're ever feeling disoriented, catching a glimpse of these familiar, golden arches on the horizon, in all of their magnificence, should orient you, or is it the other way around? Well, that is, until you discover the coffee is like mud, the bread is stale and the prices are outrageous.

I tried getting on the internet here. They wanted you to go through a whole rigamarole of filling out information along with your passport number, which I reluctantly did. But, the system refused to believe that my passport number was legitimate. So, I never did get online and the coffee was so bad, I couldn't drink it. 

                      As they say in Malaysia, "Salamat hari Krismas!" I find it amusing that in SE Asia,
         they tend to decorate Christmas trees from the top down, instead of spiraling around it, like we do.
As soon as I get done talking to the manager at McD's about their coffee, I'll start giving lessons on Christmas tree decorating. Ha. Just kidding.

                                                A shop-keeper who sold me a bottle of water.

       The Winstar Hotel could probably win a star. But, it costs 800 Batt / night. That's almost 30 bucks!

                                                             If it ain't ol' Saint Nick!

                                                           A little square over a clong.

                                                             Palm trees and wires. . .


There are a lot more cars on the road nowadays in Thailand. I was telling a restaurant owner that back in 1985, there were few, if any cars on the road at all. It was all took-tooks, motorbikes, bikes and trucks. The only cars that were visible were usually vintage cars used as taxis. Now, traffic is congested most of the time, though the motor cycle still holds full sway as the preferred form of transportation.

  

                    This is a "song-tow", meaning "two axils", used to transport passengers on a set route.

              




The motor bike riders are getting younger and younger. I watched as dozens of grade schoolers soared off from school on their motor bikes, most without helmets, some talking on their mobile phones while weaving through traffic.

Random Shots of Hatyai, Thailand

          I took out my camera and just started clicking pictures like a mad woman. Crazy Westerner.

       Cute blue Christmas tree stuck out in the intersection, sort of jumped out at me from the "blue".

                                      It's a shop, yep. What can I say? "HAPPY NEW YEAR!"

                                           Anybody wanna buy a wheel barrow? So pretty.

                                        Plastic wrapped, really, really hard furniture... for little people.

         Imagine my surprise at seeing a snowman here in the subtropics where even I am MELTING!

It wasn't easy finding a cheap hotel. Well, my idea of cheap is totally different than most people's, I realise. I wanted to pay 30RM, like the last time I was here. I had stayed at the Merlin Hotel, which was very clean. There were a polite Chinese clerk and even a fish tank in the little lobby. But, I walked and walked and didn't recognise a THING. I knew the Crystal Hotel but couldn't see it again after passing it on the bus. In frustration, I relented to getting on the back of a motorcycle taxi. He charged me 30 Batt to take me halfway across the city. (That's 3 ringgit or roughly 1 dollar Canadian.)

The hotel he dropped me at cost 350 Batt (35RM) a night. But, it was crazy ugly! The lady took me into the room, turned on the flourescent light and it didn't work.She fiddled around with it until the bulb popped out. I thought, "Guess you'll have to show me another room then." But, she turned on another light over the bed so there was only partial lighting and I was supposed to be happy with that. Well, I wasn't in the mood to argue with someone who couldn't understand English. I took a look out the window and the roof that gullied at my window was littered with trash. I just hoped a rat wouldn't climb in through the bars.

After she left me, I checked out the bathroom. When you flushed the toilet, water spewed out of the back!
Then, later that night, a sick, gurgling noise rose up from beneath the pipes and everything came up and OUT of the toilet bowl. Disgusting. You get what you pay for. Right?

I have graced my viewers by not posting pictures of the hotel. The walls were filthy. But, the sheets were clean (only one triangular tear at the bottom) and I haven't seen any cockroaches... yet.

Female bird (top right) says to male bird, "I told you we should stop coming here. This place has really gone to the birds."

                                           Thai fashion, albeit a few fingers missing...

This little lady allowed me to take her picture. I had accidentally switched my camera to "negative" mode so when I showed her her picture, she looked see-through. She just smiled and said, "Numba one! Numba one!"

Hatyai, Thailand

So, my visa expired on January 11th. That meant leaving the day before. My son had planned to return to stay in my house in order to feed the dogs, but I hadn't heard from them. I wasn't really looking forward to the trip, either, because Hat yai is the big, noisy, sweltering, bustling city.

The night before the trip, I was uneasy, so asked God for travel grace. I slept soundly, awoke early and ate a bite of breakfast.

After a quick shower, I left the house at about 9:15, hoping to catch the 9:30 bus to Ipoh. As I was hustling down the road, wearing one back-pack and pulling my larger back-pack on wheels, a van pulled up to offer me a ride. Sweet! Although they didn't speak much English, the Chinese people asked, "Go to bus?"

"Yes! Ipoh." I answered, jumping in the back seat with a lady. I spoke a few words of Mandarin to them and they were pleased as punch. I said, "I am an English Teacher. My name is Brenda. What's your name?" Then, "Thanks!" and, "Good-bye!" (There will be a rumour going around the neighbourhood now that the White Westerner English teacher can also speak Chinese! Ha!)

Not two minutes after they dropped me off at the bus stop, the bus to Ipo arrived and would have driven past if I hadn't waved him down! So, if I'd walked, I never would have made it.

I made it to Ipoh an hour before the bus was due to leave for Hat yai, too! What a relief. It couldn't have gone better if I'd planned it. Although, in my hasty departure, I forgot to bring my emergency travel funds!! What a blooper that was. All I had on me was the bare minimum.

Another little bad buzz that happened was that the "lady at counter 7" held onto my bus ticket. I got on the bus, asked her for the ticket and she said, "It's ok. Jus seet anywar." So, I did.
Then, an hour later, a group of Chinese boarded the bus and took my seat away! The bus driver says,

"Where's your ticket?"

Not a little annoyed, I answered, "The lady from counter 7" took it! She told me to sit anywhere.

"Ne' mine, ne' mine," he said, "Go back dar." (Right.)

"Now, I have no seat and someone will get on and kick me out of this seat, too!"

So, you start to wonder whether, the next time the bus stops, someone's going to come and demand to sit in your seat. I asked the ticket-taker if there was a change of drivers. He said,

"You'll be ok, all the way to Hatyai now, as long as you're not going to Bangkok." Phew. But still, "WHY ME?" I was the only person on the entire bus without a ticket! I think "the lady from counter 7" was trying to annoy me. Maybe I'll go and see her on my way back!

The trip altogether cost 50RM. The hotel cost 350Batt (35RM) per night and food expenses are from 50 Batt (5RM) to 150Batt (15RM) per meal. Though they have the nerve to charge 100Batt for a specialty coffee at McDonald's. It is hard to find good coffee here.

Malaysia

                                      Trees in Seremban, across the street from Parkson Grand.

It's January, 2013 and I find myself back in my beloved Malaysia. Only this time, I'm not staying in Seremban, but Kampar, an obscure little town further to the north. Why?

What a good question! Could it be because I love the dripping humidity and sweltering heat?

There's a simpler reason. My son and his wife came here with seven of my grandchildren and this is where they were staying when I arrived in August, after a year in Canada. Ah, yes. I spent a whole year in my home country. Maybe I'll include some shots of North York sky scrapers. But, for now, it's about trees. I love them.

Imagine if people would stop cutting these beauties down. The air would be easier to breathe. The ground would be knit with huge roots. There would be plenty of shade from the scorching sun.

I arrived in K.L. (Kuala Lumpur) on August 8th, went to visit friends in Mantin for a few days, then took the K.T.M. train to Kampar. That's a very clean and smooth moving electric train.

My seven grandchildren were ecstatic to see me. (And, hopefully not just because I had brought lots of goodies.) Of course, I was thrilled to see them, along with the newest addition, the baby, Amber. That makes seven, just like in the movie, "The Sound of Music".