Thursday, February 28, 2008 Face to face with Malaysia By Jeneen R. Garcia
THE Chinese vendor was eyeing me from underneath a bunch of bead necklaces hanging over our heads. Across the street, a dark-skinned Indian had said the same thing about a pack of souvenir magnets, which I later got for a lower price at another stall.
I was at Jalan Petaling, at Kuala Lumpur’s famous night market. Said to be the domain of Chinese merchants, the street was surprisingly peopled with just as many Indians, Malays, Pakistanis, and dan lain-lain (other races) peddling the same wares. This was truly Malaysia—a melting pot of Asian cultures with nobody losing their native identity and everybody getting along just fine despite. Which made it all the more important that I drum up my best Asian bargaining skills.
“Five ringgit each for four,” I said. A European couple stopped to check out the necklaces. I kept silent as they bargained and bought one for RM 18 (P234). “Eight ringgit,” the Chinese vendor said after they left, “I give you good price!” He shook his head in disbelief at my obstinacy. Finally I conceded, as the other stalls were packing up for the night, and I was only halfway through the throng.
Just a few hours earlier I was at Bukit Bintang, an avenue of classy malls, towering five-star hotels and upscale bars—seemingly worlds away from this noisy, packed marketplace. Yet around me now I could see the same tourists I saw there jostling and haggling as if they had never shopped in a mall.
Kuala Lumpur is visited by millions of tourists yearly for its nationwide mega sales, Formula One races, the larger-than-life Petronas Towers, and Asian fusion food. I myself had come here not to shop, but to discover the true face of Malaysia, if it could indeed still be found amidst the traffic jams and urban sophistication.
Almost everywhere, the women wore scarves that covered their hair and neck, an indication that Islam is the country’s official religion. Near the city’s Lake Gardens is found Malaysia’s biggest mosque, with a unique umbrella-shaped roof having 13 points that symbolize Malaysia’s 13 states.
Yet also common are Chinese temples all lit up with red lanterns at night, while just at the outskirts of the city are Batu Caves—large, natural limestone caverns that house Hindu temples and altars. Here Indians go up the 272 steps to the caves barefoot, usually with heads shaved, bringing sugarcane and fruits to offer thanksgiving for answered prayers. Government buildings still proudly bear the old British colonial architecture.
Despite this distinct diversity, however, in fast food joints or grand buffet spreads, whether the dish was Indian roti, Chinese bihun or Malay ulam-ulaman, everyone would eat with their hands and speak the same language, a mixture of Malay and Chinese melded into something not quite either one or the other. Most people spoke English well, but it was unnerving to hear some of them say “Mahal kita” once they would find out I was Filipino. After all, how many countries can you go to where both street vendors and store owners speak Tagalog so familiarly?
My last night in Malaysia, I attended the Chinese New Year Open House, which meant that everyone, whatever their race, culture or religion, was welcome to celebrate the festival. As dragons and lions danced to the drumbeats, and chingay acrobats balanced impossibly tall bamboo poles on their foreheads, a multitude of Orientals, Malays, South Americans, Europeans, Eurasians, Middle Easterners—even women with just their eyes visible through their black burqas—joined in on the festivities.
It was the same, I was told, whether the celebration was the Muslim Eid ul-Fitr, the Hindu Deepavali, the Buddhist Wesak, or the Christian Christmas. Whatever the cause for merriment, everyone in the neighborhood was invited to the party. The spirit of fusion and harmony is not just in the spicy food or the hodgepodge Melayu language. In Kuala Lumpur, I had found not the face of Malaysia, but the many faces of one multicultural nation, its arms opened wide, always ready to embrace the world, lah.
