Fred Hoyt's Travels

Malacca or Melaka seems to be a fit place to end our stay in Malaysia, which bills itself as “Truly Asia.”

An old city at the southern entrance to the Straits of Malacca, through which pass over half of the shipping of the world, Malacca traces its history back to the 13th century or so, when an Indonesia prince (the connections between Indonesia and Malaysia are pretty strong even today; Bahasa is spoken in both countries, both are Muslim, and Sumatra, one of the over 2,000 islands that constitutes Indonesia, is 1-½ hours away by ferry on the other side of the straits) came here and had his dogs outfoxed (that sounds wrong) by a mouse deer, a small and now endangered species, under a Malacca tree. The sultan built a dynasty that lasted until 1513, when the Portuguese wrested away control of the city, beginning several centuries of Portuguese rule. The famous Cheng Ho, featured occasionally on the History Channel, visited here, and has a small corner in the history museum. There’s a rebuilt Istana (palace) of the sultan, which I can see from the window in my hotel, but Malacca is one of the four states in Malaysia now with no sultan.

Notable Portuguese were the Duke of Albuquerque, who was the second governor, and Francis Xavier, the Jesuit who was instrumental in bringing Catholicism to Asia. The priest was in fact buried in Malacca for 9 months, but was finally interred in Goa. Although the Portuguese rule ended centuries ago, there’s still a gate from the old fort, a bastion rebuilt (as part of the push for tourism), and a church on top of a hill that’s hollow and roofless, but picturesque, rather like its counterpart in Macau, also Portuguese. On a cruise on the Malacca River, the guide explained that his heritage was partly Portuguese, and there are descendants still in town.

The next stage marked the showdown for supremacy in colonial Asia between the Dutch and the British. The Dutch evicted the Portuguese, and built their own church, their own statehouse, and several other buildings that remain today, characterized (and standing out because of it) by large windows; the philosophy was that air could circulate better.

Finally, with the British already established at Singapore and Penang, the Dutch in 1824 exchanged Malacca for British possessions in what was becoming the Dutch East Indies, and Malacca became part of the Straits Settlements until 1947 (with the exception of World War II, when it was part of the Japanese empire); the British Club in town was where independence was proclaimed.

All periods are represented, which is to say, Malacca is an historian’s treat. From the Portuguese period, the church and fort; from the Dutch period, the red brick Stadthuys and the Church; from the British period some stately mansions (including the Majestic Hotel, a colonial bungalow that when David and I stayed here in 1997—in it—was the cheapest hotel in town; today, after extensive and expensive restoration, it is the most pricey hotel in town; glad we stayed in it when we did!)

I was heartened to learn that Malacca and Penang acquired UNESCO grants to preserve the heritage, and we were able to see some of the results: the area around the waterfront is being rehabilitated and renovated, and the houses already completed will certainly do as much for the important tourist dollars as the malls that are otherwise omnipresent in the bigger Malaysian cities. There was a Carrefour in the three-story mall across from our hotel, located in what was a hawker area when David and I visited here in 1997. Tourism has come to replace trade; the once prosperous harbor has silted up, replaced by Penang to the north, and more impressively, the city of lions (Singapore) to the south.

Of course, the foreign and colonial patina was marked, but the dominant population then as now was not foreigners, and that’s one other thing that makes Malacca attractive to me. There’s an old Chinese area in the town that has become a lot hokier than I remembered. On the boat ride, we saw an all-Malay area. Of course, there’s an Indian section, too. As befits a country that is 60% Malay, around 30-35% Chinese and 10% other (mostly Indian), all areas are visible and obvious.

The official line is that Malaysia is a model of peaceful mixing of races, one the world should emulate. We heard the story time after time, and the message is certainly true. As I’ve noted, the “mixing” isn’t as thorough as in the United States, though. Malays get favors in government jobs and education and in financing from banks; Chinese have a strong hold on business; Indians seem to do a lot of the service jobs. And the country has had a troubled history of race relations in the 1960s especially.

It does enjoy some wonderful natural scenery, even from the train, where there were broad plantations of rubber and palm oil. Then, there’s a whole side of the Peninsular Malaysia we did not get to—Muslim sultanates and spectacular beaches that you can see on the Travel Channel at least once a week. The country has at least one big advantage in attracting tourists from the Middle East—it’s proudly (but secularly) Muslim, and the obvious efforts that Mahathir made to replace the British administrative buildings with a distinctly Malay appearance is noted and noteworthy. Like many of the developing countries, it is heavily dependant on spending by the developed world. I found out, for example, that the Dell factory we visited has gone from 7 lines to 3. Even Singapore reported a first quarter decline of 7.8% this week.

Perhaps that’s one reason the cities have so many malls, and such spectacular ones. So many, indeed, that I’m tempted to call the country Mallasia.

We spent all day on the train getting to Singapore, where we’re going to spend a few days.

Best wishes for a wonderful weekend.

I’ve used the Confucian saying before to introduce a topic, and I’m going to do so again: the Old Sage remarked, “It is a pleasure to welcome guests who come from afar.”

The person who demonstrated the truth of the saying was the alum I mentioned in my last blog, Johnny C.H. Lai, an IWU alum who is a Malay Chinese living here in Kuala Lumpur.

I’d been in touch with Mr. Lai on and off since he graduated, and in fact tried to connect with him when we were here four years ago. At that time, he was on holiday, but this trip, he was here. Having him as host, as you’ll see, also shows the difference between going with a packaged tour and having a real experience.

He picked me and colleague Carrie Trimble up last night, with the intention of showing us Kuala Lumpur. The city is full of malls, and interesting ones at that, but he took us to one that really creates “buzz.” I knew that when we drove up to the entrance, and looming over us at the entrance was a three story high sphinx, with an entrance framed with columns as though we were at ancient Thebes. I’ve been to Harrod’s in London which has somewhat the same approach, but on a scale of one with the Sunway Mall (where we went) around a 20.

That was our introduction. As we walked past the elephants and elegance, we came to one of the atriums, and there was a crowd gathered. When we looked down, we saw it was a book launching, a Chinese translation of the letters of Dr. Mahathir Mohammed to world leaders. Dr. Mahathir was supposed to speak—and the talk was supposed to start in five minutes. I know not everyone would be as impressed as I was, but having followed the former prime minister’s career, I knew he was the man who, as I said yesterday, put Malaysia on the map. And I had a chance to see him in person! About two minutes later, he walked out with his bodyguard, bounding as few other 84-year-olds can do, to the accompaniment of great applause. He was shorter than I realized, but that’s in his favor too. I confess to being star struck. Who would have predicted it (though I thanked Mr. Lai for his courtesy in arranging the visit!)

The daze continued afterwards, as we continued to walk through the mall. We came to the ”ice atrium” which had a full-sized hockey rink (Hockey? When it’s 95 degrees out? Well, there is a professional team in Phoenix.)

But the complex was more than just an over-the-top mall. It included an elegant hotel (pictured elsewhere), two theme parks (one water based, one with roller coasters and other non-liquid treats)—AND a university. Now that’s buzz.

Mr. Lai and his girlfriend took us to another KL activity—a hawker food court, where we tried a variety of interesting local dishes—jellyfish, for example (which is Chinese, but served in a Malay peanut sauce).

We agreed to meet again today after our trip.

I had arranged a choice of two bus trips, one in the afternoon to Petrajaya, the new administrative capital near KL, and the other to a nearby Forest Research institute, which has a rainforest/jungle with a canopy walk. Most of the students opted for the jungle, which is hard to duplicate in central Illinois.

When we got to the van at 8 a.m., the guide told us the jungle walk, which was the feature we were most interested in, was under construction, but the company would try to find something suitable to replace it if we went to the Batu Caves, a Hindu temple within a cave near here. We agreed to go and see what happened. Well, the Caves were really south Indian, who constitute the majority of the Indians in Malaysia. We climbed 272 steps to get into the cave, which was a nice morning exercise.

The driver then told me that we could kill an hour and then be taken to the only rainforest in a major city (KL) and go on a scheduled nature walk. Since that was close to our hotel, I said, “Let’s go back and let our students do what they want to do.”

Which meant Carrie and I would be able to visit with Johnny (whose girlfriend said he counted down the days until the IWU group and his former teacher arrived). Since he had offered to take us to the Scout office, I asked one of the other students, an Eagle Scout from St. Louis and former Philmont staffer, to join us.

We did get to the BP House, which is the headquarters, but there was no Scout shop there (the store was in the Central Market, which we would visit before dinner), which gave us just enough time for Mr. Lai to suggest we go the Genting Highlands. Built by a Malay-Chinese gentleman, the highland’s name in Chinese in “the head of the clouds.” He took us to an Indian restaurant for roti canai, martaback, and other delicacies, then drove to the funicular for the longest cable car ride in southeast Asia—nearly two miles—that took us to the gambling and hotel and shopping complex (complete with a statue of liberty!) that, at 6,000 feet, left me lightheaded but, for the first time on this trip, cool.

We came back, joined the group for dinner, and a visit to a mall (that had the Scout store) and the local Chinatown before Mr. Lai told us he had to get home and get ready to go back to work tomorrow as an independent graphic designer.

As I said, it was a pleasure to be welcomed as a guest who comes from afar. We leave KL tomorrow morning so I better get packed.

Selamat datang.

I’ve just said hello (and goodbye) in Bahasa, which is the language of Malaysia (and after a fashion, of Indonesia as well). We just entered Malaysia at Padang Besar after a 17-hour trip from Bangkok on the train. We had a sleeper compartment (the seats changed to a bed) for around $33. I still remember the first time I came here—1997. I was on sabbatical, and had a ticket from a conference in Mumbai to Bangkok, and then a ticket from Singapore to Hong Kong.

The challenge was the over 1,000 miles from Bangkok to Singapore, through a country I’d barely heard about—Malaysia.

I’m as delighted to be here as I was the first time. I’m checking in from Kuala Lumpur, after two long (almost too long) train rides—from Bangkok to Penang (about 20 hours) then from Penang to Kuala Lumpur (only 9 hours, but it got in here at 5 a.m.)

I fell in love with Pulau Penang (an island that with some mainland constitutes a state in the 13-member federation of Malaysia) that time, and I’ve been back 3 times since. Nothing has dampened my ardor. I think my students were as awestruck as I am. Here are some of the reasons why:

1) our site visit graphically demonstrated the truth of Friedman’s the world is flat. We toured the Dell factory which makes 95% of the US laptops and ships them to Nashville or Reno for redistribution. They make the laptop to order within a day. I remember getting mine within a week from the time I placed the order. The Penang area has become a mecca for high tech, and perhaps that’s why Dell located there (AMD, a supplier, was there first). The work force, mostly Muslim women (around 5,500) get around 300 a month, plus overtime. The parts come from all over the world, illustrating the principle of the “disassembly line.” The result is an affordable computer, customized for each order.

2) Penang is now a UNESCO world heritage site, and I’m glad it gained that distinction because it has marvelous old colonial architecture. It’s older than Singapore, and was the first British colony in the eventual British Crown Colony (I think it was the Straits Settlements and Malaya—the old Sultans remained in power as heads of states with British advisors, the Straits Settlements being Malacca, Penang, and Singapore). There’re wonderful old colonial hotels (Mrs. Hoyt and I stayed at the Eastern and Oriental, an 1885 gem, that was reopened in an indication of the multiple ethnicities of Malaysia); historical sites that one stumbles on (Dr. Sun Yat-sen made Penang his home in exile for about five years as he raised money trying to overthrow the Qing dynasty and establish a republic. He was the president of the Republic after 1911 and is revered in both mainland and Taiwan, no mean feat); and preserved architecture that looks like I thought Hong Kong ought to resemble—and probably did in the 1950s! I was glad to see one of the old buildings (that I’d considered buying and restoring for my 29 servants—that was one reason I did not buy it) had been saved and restored by a well-known American company—and it now is the most elegant of KFCs in the world!

3) Penang is predominantly a Chinese city in a majority Malay (Muslim) country. Penang area is around 1.5 million people, half Chinese, but Georgetown (aha now you know it was British, and the rail station is on the mainland, across from the island, and it’s called Butterworth!), but as I said, it’s a diverse mix with great ethnic foods and ethnic sites. There’s a Burmese Buddhist temple which is even more over the top in its showiness than the Thai Buddhist temple across the street. I was so impressed by the Burmese one that I was inspired to visit Burma a few years ago. Our guide called Penang a food paradise, and then proved it. We had one dinner by the ocean at a hawkers (food court) where the guide (Chinese background) ordered dish after wonderful dish of some of the best food that we had on the trip. I managed to convince him spaghetti and French fries (staples in Bangkok because we were Americans) was not the reason we’d come to Asia. As my grandson is fond of saying, “Yum yum.” Wisdom comes from 2-year-olds.

It was difficult leaving 19th century environs (Fort Cornwallis, named after the governor of Bengal, the very same Cornwallis who lost at Yorktown and was posted in India had an encampment that paled before the reenactments we’ve gone to at Fort de Chartres, which is roughly the same period!) Chinatown to the train—and not just because the train was a sleeper, but left no space for bags, and got into Kuala Lumpur (meaning muddy waters) at 5 a.m.

Malaysia was a country that had not crossed my radar before I stumbled upon it, but it’s impressive as a predominantly Muslim country that is quite progressive. It helps that it had, for many years, an intelligent Prime Minister who was even more powerful than the Sultans. Dr. Mahathir Mohamed was determined to put Malaysia on the map as more than, “O, we’re the country close to Singapore, which you’ve heard of.” He was the one who built the Petronas towers, which were until recently the tallest buildings in the world (now, there are tallest with antenna, tallest with hotel, etc.). We got in and went to breakfast and I told our guide I thought most of our students would enjoy an Indian breakfast—murtabak (mutton and chicken filled pancakes, made mostly by Muslim Indians), various breads so called, made with banana or eggs, dipped in dal or sambal, nasi lemak (coconut rice) and mango lassi, along with dosa (rice-based pancakes)—I better stop writing about food! To their surprise, most of the students, and all the A students (of course) enjoyed the meal! I know I did.

Touring KL gives one a sense of the desire of Dr. Mahathir; the buildings are impressive, and in the Malay style, with specific roofs. There’s also some Moorish-British architecture that’s also distinctive—in fact, some of us commented that the old train station looks more like a mosque than the National Mosque we toured. Malaysia also has a king—the nine sultans rotate the position every five years and get to live in the palace; every hour there’s a changing of the guard, including mounted soldiers; the uniforms are pretty spiffy, but it’s not the UK.

One other place we toured that I thought was interesting was the memorial to soldiers, a monument designed to honor not only WWI and WWII soldiers, but also those who died in the “Emergency.” What delayed Britain’s exit from Malaysia was an ongoing civil war against Communists that resembled the American War in Viet Nam, but had a different result.

Malaysia is a secular state, but as I said, it has a Muslim majority that has ruled the country from the beginning. Our (Chinese) guide in Penang said that Muslims are tried under Muslim rule, and that if you marry a Muslim, you must convert. The government gives preferences in government jobs and in university admission to Malays. Our guide here in KL said that if you call someone a Malaysian, you mean they’re Muslim; otherwise they’re Malaysian-Chinese or Malaysian-Indian. He noted that the Chinese do well because they have been successful in business and help one another out. We saw three clan houses in Penang, and I know we’ll see some in Malacca when we get there—it’s where the “fraternity” exists by last name—in Penang there were 24th generation Chinese!

We’re meeting an IWU alum tonight, James Lai, who graduated around 1995. He’s a graphic designer, and should have interesting things to share with our students about what it’s like to live and work in KL, his home town.

Incidentally, it rains 300 days a year in KL—and, no coincidence, it’s raining right now.

I should point out for the parents reading this blog that at the Khoo family clan house in Penang (they’re the wealthiest clan), the building features prominent Confucian virtues, including one of a daughter who stays up all night to fan her parents so they can sleep. If your child does not share his or her copy with you, let me know; I have a copy which I’d be glad to share with you so that you can have proper filiopiety exhibited in your household.

Selamat datang.

It occurred to me today that Bangkok, at least for the tourist, and based on our two fully-filled days, is a tribute to two rulers—the Lord Buddha in a religious sense, and the Lord Rama (the ruling dynasty) in a political sense. They’re related. The Chakri family has supplied the kings since the foundation of Bangkok in 1782. Rama IX, who has been the king for over 60 years, is the longest reigning monarch in the world.

While the kings were absolute rulers (even despots—see the thinly historical King and I) until 1932, King Bhumibol (his non-reign name) and his wife have earned a great deal of respect from the Thai people. Our guide proudly refers to him as “our king,” and the pictures are ubiquitous. At various times, he has called the military rulers into the palace and ordered them to grovel, thereby saving the constitutional monarchy.

He and his family certainly enjoy the trappings of royalty, as we’ve seen the past two days, having visited the summer palace yesterday, the Grand Palace today, and various and sundry palaces today. The current palaces were heavily influenced by Chulalongkorn, otherwise known as Rama V, who was one of the children in the King and I, where Yul Brynner, as Rama IV, King Mongkut, fell under the spell of Anna, and his son brought lots of Western influences into the then Kingdom of Siam. Under Mongkut, the Thais built a summer palace that for all the world looked like Versailles; it’s very European. The Grand Palace, similarly, has some very European buildings, but with the Thai roofs (which I learned today have a triangular shaped roof with the Garuda at the top—a bird-like figure who was the carrier of Lord Shiva [look up your Hindu/Buddhist gods]—and the Naga, a snake, at the corners of the triangle), making the appearance definitely Thai-European. We were in the palace this morning, and, ala London, there was a changing of the guard—spiffy uniforms, white pith helmets, not so spiffy drill. We were told the soldiers had no bullets, very unlike London, but then the royal family no longer lives in the Grand Palace, which is used only to house dignitaries, and possibly impress tourists, which it certainly does. The other palaces we saw were interesting, too, but less grand—a summer house made of golden teak that had been moved from elsewhere in the country to Bangkok, and still had the marks from a bomb that had been dropped on it in World War II (when, interestingly, Thailand sided with the Japanese and declared war on the United States)—it had a lot of windows, which indicated before air conditioning there was only one way to cool off, and that was to depend on breezes, or what was known as a pukka walla, a contraption which allowed a servant to foot-pump a fan. The final “palace” we saw had been the home of one of the sons of Chulalongkorn; he was an avid collector of a variety of things—including some sculptures that had once been at Angkor Wat—whose family had various homes from around the country brought to Bangkok to house his collection. The prince himself had been sent into exile in 1932; when the generals ended the absolute monarchy, the prince, as the head of the absolute monarch’s state council, was invited to leave, and lived his life in Indonesia.

The Lord Buddha received his due today from us as well. There are reputedly over 650 Wats (Buddhist temples) in Thailand, a religion the Thais share with the approximately 5 million Chinese in Bangkok—who control much of the larger businesses (as our guide remarked, they’ve been in the country for years, and they’re hard-working; we’re not). The Wat we visited was one of the Royal Temples. It’s in the grounds of the grand palace, and houses the Emerald Buddha, one of the most important relics of the faith in Thailand. The whole complex houses statuary that are the typical “guardians” of the Buddhist temples, but with the colorful cut glass and precious stones and the faces that are typical Thai. It’s a stunning display that still impresses me after years of coming here.

Finally, we’ve spent more time on the Chao Phraya, which is the “River of Kings.” We came back from Ayudhya by boat yesterday, and had a dinner cruise tonight on the river, that took us past the palaces—and the newer palaces for the rich, like the Mandarin Oriental hotel, usually ranked as one of the top five hotels in the world. The buffet, thanks to our guide, included Pad Thai, one of the most popular and famous of the Thai dishes.

Tomorrow we get on the train for Butterworth Malaysia at 2:49, an overnight train ride.

The adventure continues!

May 10, 2009

Good morning from Bangkok, capital of Thailand and the first stop on our six-country odyssey. I knew we were in the tropics (13 degrees north, over 8,500 direct miles, and around 13,000 frequent flier miles) when I got out of the plane and my glasses fogged up. It was 94 degrees—11 o’clock at night—probably 99 percent humidity—and it will probably be like this through Hong Kong. My colleague, Bill Walsh, describes it as a three showers a day area, but I think that’s true if you can take only three showers a day. If you can take more…you probably do.

I knew it was May 2009 when we got to Tokyo and we had to change planes. That’s always an ordeal at Narita, but it was complicated by the Japanese government’s response to Swine Flu. We sat on the tarmac, filled out forms about where we’d been, etc., put on face masks, and had medical staff with masks come through with a heat gun to take our temperatures before we could evacuate the plane and resume our flight on another aircraft. No problems anywhere else, including at the new Bangkok airport, which is competitive with the great airports of the world.

It’s been five years since I was in Bangkok, but it’s still (despite the heat and partly because everything is either air conditioned or outside) one of my favorite cities to visit. We’ve eased into the rigors of the trip reasonably well partly because the city is so different from anything most of our students are used to, even those from Chicago. It’s at least 10 million people, with the usual juxtapositions of the developing world—shacks beneath skyscrapers, Beemers next to the tuk-tuks (motorbikes with a chariot-like rear that haul 3 people through the city), open markets selling the most wondrous fruits (some you know, like fresh pineapple; some you don’t, like durian, the fruit that “smells like heaven, tastes like hell” and is banned from hotels), restaurants wafting wondrous smells, etc. Since I arrived here for the first time in the mid-1990s, the city has acquired a lot more freeways and built a skytrain, and that’s made the traffic (which includes bright pink cabs), somewhat more tolerable, but like most Asian cities, one must plan on a long trip any time you take a ride.

Our guide says business is way down, and certainly it is for tourism, which is not just one of the world’s biggest businesses, but one of Thailand’s. The combination of the global economy and the political unrest that it’s caused here (plus the political turmoil that closed the airport in December) has scared away tourists.

We’re not able to visit any businesses (for class purposes) because it’s the Buddha’s big day here—birth, death, and enlightenment—a big day especially in a country that is 95 percent Buddhist. Small businesses are open, including the Tony’s Fashion House that I think every tour group gets taken to (and some get taken at) that is one of the many tailors (Thai silk is a specialty). The Buddhism here is quite different from what one sees in East Asia. It’s incredibly colorful, and I’m sure the pictures you’ve seen of Thailand show the Wats (temples), with gold chedis and prangs.

Our day was pretty full, so we didn’t have time to experience jet lag. We left here at 7:30 yesterday morning for a trip to Ayudhya, which was the capital of Thailand from the 14th century until the Burmese leveled it in 1767, and the Thais moved further south (Bangkok itself dates from the early 1770s, when the Chakri family became the rulers and moved from Thonburi, across the river, where they built the Grand Palace, which I’m about to visit later today). My son, David, once described SE Asia as the “Balkans of Europe,” and having been to the Balkans last summer, I can understand what he means—in the sense that the borders shift historically, and the “tribes” have had a history of warfare—the Burmese and the Thais have warred for centuries.

Ayudhya reflects the influence of Buddhism in SE Asia, as all the Wats were built in stone, and their remains are all that are left. When I saw Ayudhya, it was one of the inspirations for me to visit some of the other great ruins (Borobodur in Indonesia, Pagan in Burma, and the most wondrous of all, Angkor in Cambodia), so it was a treat to return—especially with a digital camera, which reduces the 8 rolls of slide film that I used to take to a doable card which enables me to erase mistakes). The chedis and prangs still tower in the sky, the outlines of the rest of the temples still there, with fragments of the destroyed Buddhas (I think I was told that precious stones or relics of the Buddha were in the statues, which is why the Burmese lopped off the heads!)

The highlight was an elephant ride through the ruins. That’s something you don’t get to do at home, and we all took advantage of climbing aboard and imagining lumbering through the jungle from Pagan, Burma (or for the European-minded, over the alps with Hannibal). We took a boat back along the Chao Praya, the river that cuts through Bangkok, which was a nice way to leisurely adjust to being 12 hours time away from you.

You’re about to begin your weekend. We’re about to have breakfast and to be taken someplace spectacular that none of my students have seen before.