Thursday, July 1, 2010

Malaysia, Day II: Francis is a Sketchball, Homestay

Click here to look at the pictures. You might want to do this after you read the blog, or open them in a new window.

On the second day, Thursday, we woke up in our resort hotel and had a DELICIOUS buffet breakfast. I went back three times to eat, and drank several cups of coffee.

We set off, and our sketchball tour guide, instead of taking us to the Mini-Mosque World, like he was scheduled to do, took us to some random silk/batik/craft place. I don't know why he did this, or how he thought he was supposed to get away with it, but it infuriated most of us, especially because we felt powerless to stop it.

Anyway, instead of actually visiting the mini-mosque world, like we were supposed to, we stopped there for lunch. Which really didn't make any sense, because it is essentially a museum, and there weren't really many restaurants, and we were terribly rushed. Francis!

ON A MORE POSITIVE NOTE, we finally DID something (as opposed to just stopping at random places) after that and went to the Terengganu (the name of the state we were in) Museum. There, we met a group of Malay university students who led us around the museum. The guy who led our group was really nice and taught us a little bit of Malay for our homestay. The museum was cool, but more than that, it was nice to finally talk to a real person instead of just gawking at things from a tour bus.

After the museum, we headed to our homestay. We were all really nervous about this, and stupid Francis didn't make us feel any better. The way he was talking, we all thought we would be staying in huts with sand floors and holes in the ground instead of toilets. But he is a chauvinistic, orientalist, patronizing, sexist, culturally insensitive jerk, and he got us all worked up for nothing.

When we arrived in the village of Teluk Ketapang, where our homestay was based, we were still feeling pretty awkward. The homestay program is actually run by the government, as a sort of arm of the tourism industry. It makes sense - it helps stimulate the local economy, promotes stronger feelings of nationalism for the families involved, and shares the "Malay culture" with foreigners. However, because it was set up by the government, I was worried about what it would be like. I've heard horror stories about homestays, and I was worried the family wouldn't care about us, that they would they just have signed up for the program for the money and treat us awfully.

I couldn't have been more wrong. When we got off the bus, there was a huge group of people there to greet us, dressed in "traditional clothes" and waving palm leaves. Everyone was extremely friendly and we soon realized there was nothing to worry about. After the welcome ceremony, which I documented pretty well with my pictures, we were assigned to our homestay families and split off for the night!

I feel like I should have a lot to say about the homestay, but I don't really. I was paired with a guy from our group named John. Our parents were teachers, so they spoke some English, but not a lot. It was enough to get by, though, and as corny as it sounds, we communicated with smiles and gestures.

After meeting our host mother (our host father was at work), who told us to call her "oomi," which I think means "mama," we got into a Honda. I know this sounds awful, but it was kind of odd seeing oomi pull out a cell phone and get into a car. I guess that's globalization for you. I never realized I was so closed-minded! (At least I'm learning, I guess.)

Oomi took us to a pastry shop and bought us cookies and drinks, which was really sweet of her. She spoke some English, but she would often talk herself into a corner and then just make a choking noise or sputter out some Malay. I felt bad, because I could tell it was difficult for her, and obviously we hadn't done much to learn her language, even though we were in her country.

We arrived at the house, which, as you'll see in the pictures, was actually really nice. The bathroom...well, you'll see it in the pictures. Here is a video of our bedroom (though there are also several pictures in the Photobucket album).


We mostly just sat around and talked and watched TV. Most of the channels were in Malay, but we obviously didn't mind. We went out to dinner at an open-air restaurant called "BB2." It was highly questionable, and the food was not that good, but hey, oomi and abba (dad) were trying. It was kind of funny, because while we were eating Malay food, their 13 year old daughter came with us and ordered Western food. Oh, globalization!

After dinner, oomi and abba said they were going to take us to somebody's sister's house for an "englishment party." Or at least, that was what John and I heard, and we had no idea what they were talking about. Of course, we just went along with them, and soon we were at another house that looked a lot like ours.

I'm still not sure whose sister it was, but the "englishment party" was actually an "engagement party." There were lots of relatives over, and decorations all around the house. In my pictures, the very last one is of the actual "engagement room." During the ceremony, the silver cushion in the middle is where the bride-to-be sits. The groom kneels in front of her and puts the ring on her finger. They can't sit on the cushion together until they are actually married.

You can't really see these in the picture, but the bride and groom exchange gifts. These are baskets in the shape of shells, with fruit or chocolate or sarongs inside (think: Little Mermaid, that first scene where Ariel's sisters are inside a shell, and then little animals with instruments pop out of shells - kind of like that). It was really lovely, and apparently the engagement party was to happen the next day, and we were there to witness the setting up for it. John and I both felt blessed to have oomi and abba share this with us.

After that, we went back home, which was just around the corner. Oomi and abba told us that, in Malay culture, family is very important, and that's why they live so close to their sister (whoever's sister it is...) I tried to take a shower that night, but I was intimidated by the unfamiliar setup of the bathroom, so I just wet a washcloth and used that. It was not a pleasant experience.

I slept really well that night, though. Oomi gave us an oscillating fan in addition to the ceiling fan, for which I was really grateful. I'm sure I would have slept well under any conditions, though, because it had been quite an exhausting day!

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