Borneo jumped on our map, soon after we thought of exploring Malaysia. Clay had never been (which is very hard to do....find a country he has not been), so we figured we would begin the trip in Malaysia and work our way up into Thailand....and onto...(na, I'll save it for later)...
We flew from Sinagpore to Kuching. Recommended by an old PCDC colleague, Kuching was a great place to get our barrings, recover from jet lag, and plan the attact. Borneo is the 3rd largest island in the world (or so claims the Lonely Planet (LP)), with Malaysia covering the northern territory and Indonesia to the south. Kuching is in the southwest part of Borneo, Malaysia. Kuching means "cat" in Malay and cat statues decorate many roundabouts and what seem to be important street squares. The cats compliment the many mosques and temples sprinkled over the city and match the animal'istic symbolism and designs.
From Kuching we flew to north to Kota Kimbalu and stayed for a few days, then off to Semporna. Sempora is the gateway to the islands of Sabah (the northern part of Borneo is Sabah, and the south is called Sarawak). The islands of Sabah are BEAUTIFUL.....and we came for the diving. To a novice or professional diver, the diving is incredible. (separate post on our diving days...)
Clay continues to remind me, in his Chinese singing voice, of the tag-line for the country of Malaysia: "Malaysia, Truly Asia." And, that it is and true to the claim. Malaysia is squeezed between the mysterious and rising India, the powerful, efficient, and overpopulated China, and Thailand and Indonesia. The strategically placed Muslim country might have been the ingredient for the melting pot that exists today. Every city we have ventured to in Malaysia all have a Chinatown and Little India section. These areas also manage to be more on the backpacker's budget and we find ourselves sleeping among the spicy noodles, night markets, and plastic baggies (to explain later).
The food here has been an experience for me. Up until a few days ago, I have felt pretty lonely on my veggie island I have had the luxury of living on. First off, bring on the eggs. It has been years, but as I remember from living in Spain....ya jus goin to have to eat dem eggs - they are everywhere and cooked with everything. So, there is that. I eat eggs now.
In Kuching, I did not venture out too much and had the "american shot nurse" little voice in my head warning me of all the diseases, viruses, and bacteria I WILL catch if I eat from the food stalls, markets, common place restaurants, etc.....everything but breathing the air. This lady must have lived in a 5-star hotel in a vacuum on her trips over here! Well, Ms. Sanitation....the food stalls are the way to go, perfectly delicious and suitable for our budget - no other way to go. I have loved the funky seaweed that definitely comes from another planet with unknown greens and yellows, slimy and slick jelly tentacles, with broccoli like ends. Hey, a little lime and chili, mix it up in a baggie, Poof - delicious!
In Kota Kimbalu (KK), there was an evening/night market. It sat right on the water and right around 5pm hundreds of vendors would start setting up their multi-colored tables and table cloths, food stations, and awnings. What followed were the many fishing boats we watched all day arrive to the shore and send up every possible living creature in the sea, onto the tables....and ready for sale. The freshest seafood took up a good section of the market followed by vegetables, fruits, curries, meat on a stick, etc.... A great dining experience. Spices and grills filled the air, your choice of fish, lobster, squid, whatever was cooked right there in front of you, sitting in a community table setting, watching the KK world go by.
PLASTIC BAGS - thus far, and I can only make claim to now Malaysia and Thailand - but they LOVE their plastic bags. It is used as a container for drinks (of course with a straw), over plates so the plates do not get dirty (they just throw the baggie away), any purchase, ANYTHING. A plastic bag is provided to save the day. Everywhere you look, in any market setting, every one is working with a plastic bag.
CHILDREN: In all the markets and especially in Malbul (diving island in Sabah) - and without being too extreme, there seems to be 20 to 1, child to adult. Kids are EVERYWHERE! It is awesome and makes a place so fun and youthful, but wow, population growth spurt, here we come.
The warmth (besides the hot and stickiness of the air here) of this country lies in the smiles and hospitality of the people. We are welcomed with a light in their eyes and pride of heart. The Malay (native and not) love their country. We felt this especially in Borneo (not the mainland) with their strong sense of community and family, and excitement of prosperity - coming mainly from tourism. We were told time and time again how happy they were to have us and "hoped very much that we very much enjoyed ourselves and stay long time and tell home about them." I plan to keep that promise.
Wandering around in Malaysia is easy going. Very pleasant, actually, now having some places of comparison. Mostly we are greeted, whether in markets or on the street, with a safe comfort of smiles and hard work. Of course, the savvy young sales boys are smart and quick to calculate and talk, selling the latest brands of the newest bag, sock, or jacket - but always with a smile and courtesy manner. Unbelievably in Malaysia, we were only encountered by ONE child and ONE woman begging for money. We happily buy from the villages, respectfully snap shots of their lifestyle, and "walk" through their lives returning their unforgettable hospitality, with smiles.
A huge part of this country (like many others) is the nominated religion - Islam. Islam is the country's religion and plays an obvious dominant role in the livelihood, lifestyle, and politics of the country (I guess, as it should). Although Muslim, freedom of religion is granted everywhere. At once the landscape of different mosques and temples lend itself to a country of romance, myth, spirit, and soul . I am very slowly learning, as I walk up to these adored structures, the difference between a Buddist and Hindu temple. Mosques are a bit easier. The hundreds of breathtaking cathedrals in Europe - these spiritual homes are similar and also so different in terms of practice in time of praise. I have never seen so much attention and love given to and in any cathedral than I have on the mats on the floor in these mosques. I respectfully enter in celebration of the beauty within the walls and to the people that find their peace within this particular faith and belief.
In Malaysia, the Islamic religion is swept over the land daily. Muslim prayers are played loudly over speakers for the whole city to hear during certain times of the day. I must admit, I love to hear it. I love to think of all the people that have stopped their busy day, and taken time to thank God and give thanks for the NOW in which they are living. I imagine a world in the states that a cue or tune would bring us to a stopping point and quiet consciousness during the day....a moment of taking a deep breath, maybe a prayer of thankfulness, or even a nap. And, what that would do to our minds, to our bodies.
Just as church bells scream for your attention. I still like to think that an old man or woman is climbing a set a stairs they have climbed a hundred times before to the bell tower to ring the bells for the town to hear. I felt the same way the first time I heard the Muslim prayer; it was around 5am in Kuching. Straining to hear at first, I thought it could be a solo singer across the river, but soon realized it was the Muslim prayer. That first morning, I stayed up and listened for the whole hour. I love it still. By morning two and 3, I woke from my slumber to the murmured continuous song, and made it to the floor to try some yoga to its harmonious flow.
It has also been very humbling to walk through cities of such strong faith. Many of the women here wear head scarfs, in which only their face is showing. They are decorated in bright fabrics of color from head to toe. Matched with a pair of stylish shoes, the latest purse, and of course, armed with a cellphone in hand. I do love the emphasis of their face, being the only part of their body shown. The nude face in every light shade is of elegance and hidden truths. Sometimes I thought of the level and depth of attraction (by male and female) if only judged by only the eyes and the smile. These women are lovely and carry themselves with grace and confidence. I do hope, as the foreigner, that they can embrace and celebrate the similarities of our lives and religious and lifestyle preferences, rather the obvious differences.
I learned recently from the ole trusted LP, that the conservative Muslim belief believe that dogs are "unclean" which would explain the very few in Malaysia. I wonder what they think of cats? The few dogs I have seen, of course, take me to Rhaja....and to missing her more and more.
Although a strong Muslim faith, to the bystander, there is a harmonious vibe on the streets from the mixed faiths that make up the Malay population. [Malaysia population: approx 27 million (Malay (with indiginous tribes): 65%, Chinese: 26%, Indians: 8%, Others: 1%)]
As far as I can see, touch, listen, and feel....to me, the culture of Malaysia fights for the preservation of tradition in culture and values. Development, tourism, and modernization are welcomed delicately (especially in Borneo), but the magic and destiny of what I would call "the beauty" will be in the balance of the two. As with any developing world, community or neighborhood - the balance.
"Adat: with its roots in religious Hindu period and earlier, its customary law that places great emphasis on collective rather individual responsibility and on maintaining
Leaving Paradise Beach with S&S the instructions were to have the taxi drop us off at the end of the long road and hold up a sign to catch the bus to Quay Non. It sounded a bit odd, but we were not about to ask too many questions to our very scary, screaming guest house owner. We arrived on the corner and the "road corner store" lady handed us a sign to hold up in the street that said, "Quay Non." Ok....? Many regular buses came and went with signs in Vietnamese...surely one for us? But, no, we were instructed to wait longer - those were not our buses. A minivan pulled up with no sign and started haggling with the store lady that seemed to be "taking care and watching out for us" between skinning some carcase on the concrete. She told us this random bus was the deal and negotiated a price and urged us to hop in. In our minivan we were in the company of 10 other people, a driver and his sidekick and 3 cocks to keep things fun. 
About 30 minutes later we pulled off the road and are instructed to get out with our bags. Coconuts started filling the floor under all the seats and our backpacks that were placed neatly in the back were now thrown on the top of the van to make room for the hundreds of coconuts that would fill the entire trunk area, floor to roof. So, the coconuts, cocks, locals, and Dutch and American couples all continued north, hopefully to Quay Non. 
