Around Town

I live in a town called Chukai, in the district of Kemaman on the east coast of Peninsular Malaysia. Right there in the red circle.





As you can imagine, it is quite different from life in America, and the town itself takes on a radically different shape than my hometown in Connecticut. I'm not saying its better or worse, and I can get pretty much everything I could want here. The local mall contains an arcade, all sorts of electronics shops, a department store, and even a clothing importer that specializes chiefly Levi's jeans. There are, however, a lot more small businesses and far fewer chain stores like in the U.S. These small businesses are usually simple and only provide a few services, and only one or two clerks are working at any given time. For example, my bicycle shop is owned by one man, Awi, and his helper (his brother?) and all they do is sell and repair bikes. There isn't really a retail section in the store, mostly because space is so limited and the sales floor is the same thing as the workshop, but I can buy anything I need there even if Awi has to fish it out from a pile of unsold goods in the back. Not in stock? He orders it for me. There is a supermarket here too, but to be quite honest, its actually cheaper to buy food at restaurants and food stalls than cook for myself. Whenever I want to make my own food, its actually more expensive for me to buy the pasta and sauce than it is for me to eat three full meals out (drinks included). For me, this is a good thing since I'm not much of a cook.

The town itself seems to be much more tightly packed together than anything back home, and even though a significant portion of people have cars, many others ride small motorscooters or walk and as a result the business district seems to be much more concentrated. Perhaps its just Connecticut, but it seems like it takes forever to drive from one place to another. Here, not so much. Cars just aren't a necessity like they are back home, partly because of the cost, and partly because of the weather. Bicycles or scooters work just fine in the tropical heat, and to be honest I kind of like weaving though a long line of stopped cars and trucks without a roof over my head or a windshield acting like a convection oven. I miss having a car when it rains, though.

There are also things that confuse me, and they probably always will.

Now, Throughout U.S. history, Americans have looked to the future with a certain raw optimism that I think has shaped our national identity. The Revolutionary War was fought (theoretically) on principles of independence and freedom, and through over half of America's existence, we have had a frontier to push to. In the back of our heads, Americans have always known there is a place for us to start over if we wished, to begin a new life as we see fit. I think as a result, it is uniquely American belief to think that we have both the right and ability to change ourselves if we desire and start afresh. Immigrants who came to the U.S. also had the opportunity to reinvent themselves in a new way if they wished, questioning and re-evaluating their own traditions and cultures and able to keep what they wished while leaving everything else behind.

That has not happened here, not in my state anyway. Instead, modernization has come through foreign channels, always from the outside. Malaysia has had a long history of being occupied and colonized by one power or another throughout history, and this has greatly affected the way that many people view modernization and might explain why some may fear, resent, or oppose a more modern way of life. Here, it seems, many are pulled in a great many different directions by their instincts to be true to their identity while at the same time learning how to choose beneficial elements of modernity. I see it in my students every day: they are so often torn between old and new ways of life.

Chukai shows some of these signs of strain and conflict. Here, there are supermarkets right next to shacks made from corrugated steel. Chinese businessmen sip tall bottles of beer just a couple blocks away from the local mosque where alcohol consumption of any kind is a serious sin. Modern businesses that serve both local and Western food stand with brightly painted signs a few miles from a fishing village that looks like it hasn't changed in a thousand years. Compared to a good deal of the area, this town is fairly developed and contains a lucrative oil field about five miles north of the town, as well as one of the deepest ports in Malaysia. All along the ocean's horizon I can see a line of oil tankers heading out to various parts of world, and the gas flares light up the northern sky with a strange orange light, which casts flickering shadows on that fishing village I mentioned. There are several local coffee shops that are quite popular, and all food served is Halal (kind of like Kosher, but for Muslims). Particularly at night, families come and eat anything from French fries to keropok lekor (a deep fried fish sausage which might sound disgusting, but is actually pretty good). I have this image of a young Muslim woman, completely covered with the exception of her face and hands, enjoying her food while booty-shaking dancers flanking Ludacris played on a projector TV in the background. Keep in mind that when Gwen Stefani played in Kuala Lumpur, she was not allowed to show her belly button. I guess that Ludacris video just slipped through the cracks. I'll also never understand why alcohol is avoided with such rigor, to the point where some locals will not eat at a restaurant that serves beer or wine, while cigarettes are enjoyed by nearly everyone. Except women. I have never seen a woman smoking in this state. Yes, I know that alcohol and pork are 'haram' or forbidden by Islam, but medically speaking cigarettes are far worse. Why avoid pork and alcohol with such zeal but freely use tobacco? It is confusing to me.

Another strange place where the old and new collide is the internet café. Here, I see almost exclusively young men surfing the net, ogling women in scanty clothes, chatting online and playing games that I personally enjoy, but seem to not belong here. All three versions of Grand Theft Auto III, criticized by conservative groups in the U.S. as being too violent and graphic, are available to anyone willing to pay fifty cents an hour. Terrorist Takedown to my awkward surprise, is also popular. To see young local boys cruising around in virtual humvees and taking out hundreds of little Arab looking men seems, well, very very out of place.

For me, as different as this place can be, there are pockets of familiarity that can be rather comforting. Yesterday, I got on my moto and drove to the next town, completely on a whim. I decided to see if a McDonaldd's cheeseburger in Malaysia tastes the same as a cheeseburger in Baltimore. It does. Exactly the same. There are a couple extra items on the menu, including rice dishes, and of course there is no bacon, but everything is pretty much the same. Except, of course, the women's uniforms. They wear a tudung that covers their hair according to local custom. Incidently, I don't see all of the girls in my area wearing their scarves all the time. Just today, a girl said "Hi Mr. Len!" from her motor bike, and I had no idea who she was since she had dropped the head scarf that's part of her required school uniform. I can't recognize women when they don't wear their tudung, its like they are completely different people. I wonder who else drifts in and out of the tradition when they think no one is looking...