Peace Corps Malaysia

Letter home from Ipoh, Malaysia, Dec 26, 1965:

Dear gang: Happy birthday, J. C.!  And Merry Christmas to you as well. Today, my last of four in Ipoh, I am resting and recuperating from some pretty heavy and concentrated eating. Boy, do I like Chinese food. Two nights ago all us math teachers had a traditional nine course Chinese dinner (Cold glaze with quail eggs, shark fin and crab, roast chicken, mushrooms and chicken feet, roast sausages, chicken soup with tree roots, pickled fish skin, fried rice, and like lychees), and last night enough steamed chicken and rice to almost fill me. Not to mention last noon's meal of mee soup, octopus, soy bean cakes, shrimp, beef, etc., etc.  Boy, do I like Chinese food. The little stalls all over the place sell just about anything even remotely edible, and they are always open. Bananas, durians (but not really in season yet), skewered beef, chicken, squid in hot sauce, jackfruit, soursop, mangoes, peanuts, fishcakes, blah blah. Boy, do I like eating in Malaysia. 

Ipoh is a fairly large town by Malaysian standards, and one of the nicest. There are lots of good shops and movie theaters. (I am a confirmed Chinese action picture from now on, and Hindustani musicals may grab me soon), and it is surrounded by beautiful limestone outcroppings, and impressive tin dredges. Christmas in Ipoh is an unusual experience. I almost botched the wortks by going to an Anglican service on Christmas Eve, wrongly thinking it would be full of cheer and carols (“repent, you scum before hell, gets you; repent, and tell the other faiths how much better the Christian God is" - barf), but I ducked out before the bread and wine, and headed for the center of town. Do you like noise? Like firecrackers for instance? Then you will like Ipoh on Christmas Eve. The Peace Corps volunteers contributed their small part by igniting 100 packs at once, but it was a drop in the ocean. 

Later that evening, I came across a really great Chinese fakir. He was surrounded by bricks, boards with nails, broken glass, and little bottles of red pills. When I was there he talked for over 45 minutes, gradually working up to breaking one lousy little brick with his hand, and selling lots of pills. Earlier that evening, another volunteer had seen him take a red pill, go into a trance, and crush the broken glass between his hands. Sure enough, he bled like hell, but the pill sales went way up.  An all-time stupid act, but the crowd obviously loved it.  

We came to Ipoh via Nangkor island (a very picturesque fishing center with sandy, palm-lined beaches and water like Glyfada, only not as clear) and the Cameron highlands, the latter, the big vacation spot for big shots (Lee Kuan Yew was playing golf there when he was informed of the Singapore split plan). Cameron highlands also has lots of tea, and even more butterflies. But mostly it has cool weather, since it is at 6000 feet (one of the highest spots on the peninsula). Cool means low 70s, but that doesn’t stop the Malay tourists from pulling out their fur coats. I have become so acclimatized to the weather already that I even felt a bit chilly up there. We took a few nature walks through the jungles, one horrible wet climb up a local peak, and, in general, had a good time. 

This free town ends Monday in Penang, when we all have one week of actual work, tutoring students. But afternoons are still free, and the duty-free port beckons. I have sort of decided to buy a big Akai stereo tape setup, but don’t know much about such things. Sony, Phillips, and National are all big brands here.  Any recommendations? I can get just about anything in Penang at less than 1/2 US price. 

Well, it is time to eat again, oh boy. Looks like it may be an Indian curry. Or should I try some nice Malay rice dish? Or perhaps a little Chinese fried rice? Or some Hokkien Mee? Wish me luck on making these difficult decisions for the next two years. 

Lots of love, Sam.

Letter to grandmother Jeep from Victoria Institution, Jan 20, 1966

Dear Jeep,

Thank you so much for the letter and Christmas gift. I would’ve answered sooner, but I decided to let my impressions of this wonderful country settle down a bit before attempting to pass them on to you. And, believe me, I am loaded with impressions!  You see, our plane landed in Kuala Lumpur, early in December, and the school year over here doesn’t begin until early in January: we therefore had one full month of sightseeing at our disposal.  

I traveled with about a dozen other prospective mathematics teachers for the first three weeks. We stuck to the west coast of the Malay peninsula (mainly because the east coast was having its normal, seasonal, monsoon floods, making travel very difficult there). of the 13 states which make up Malaysia, we visited for, Perak, Kedah, Penang, and Selangor.

Perak is famous for its tin mining (Malaysia is the worlds largest tin producer), which is usually done by spraying the ground with high-pressure water, then scooping up the slush and letting the heavier tin settle out of solution. Perak is also famous for the Cameron Highlands (which are actually just over the border, in Pahang, but Pereak claims of anyway). The Cameron highlands are about 5000 feet above sea level, and so they offer a very valuable commodity to the weary Malaysians: cool weather. I live at about sea level, where the temperature never varies much below 70°, and is usually around 85°, with 99% humidity. The Cameron Highlands have been known to register temperatures as low as 45°!  We stayed in the Highlands for two days, enjoying the jungle landscapes, the Gibbons, and the beautiful butterflies: a real tropical paradise. The capital of Perak is IPO, a city, with the enviable reputation of having the cleanest streets and the best (Chinese) food in all of Malaysia. Actually, all of the larger towns and cities I have visited were quite clean, by Asian standards, but Ipoh certainly deserves its food reputation: we had a Christmas Eve dinner there, which took about two hours to finish, and included such delicacies as cold glaze with quail eggs, crab and sharks fin, roast chicken, mushrooms with chicken feet, roast sausages, soup with tree roots, pickled fish skin, birds nest soup, and, of course, lots of rice. Of all the types of food I have found in this country, Chinese food is my favorite. Indian food is still a bit hot for me to really enjoy, and Malay food just doesn’t have enough variety. For dessert at Ipoh we had lychees, one of the very few fruits in Malaysia I had ever eaten before. Rambutans, durians, mangosteens, star apples, etc. etc. -  if you like exotic fruits, you will like Malaysia.

Kedah is further north than Perak, and much less developed. Here I lived in a Malay kampong (village) for one week, to experience the Malay way of life. (Most of the Malays live in such small kampongs, while the Chinese and Indians are concentrated in the larger towns.) During the week I slept Malay style right on the floor of the bamboo and rattan homes on stilts, ate my meals with my right hand (using your left hand is considered quite improper), bathed in the streams at least three times a day, wore a sarong constantly, and spoke as much Malay as I could. The village I stayed at is surrounded by rubber plantations, so I had a chance to see how this, the other very important export commodity of Malaysia, is produced.

At the end of the week I visited an aborigine village in Kedah. Malaysia still has many indigenous peoples, especially in Sarawak and Sabah, but until lately they have been forced further into the jungle by the advance of modern rubber and palm cultivation. Now the government is making a determined effort to relocate them in permanent areas by giving them homes and land, which the aborigines are quick to accept. On the whole, I have been told, the Malaysian aborigines are very clever and industrious, and they should provide quite a stimulus to their more "relaxed" Malay neighbors. 

We stopped over in Penang Island for a noisy New Year’s Eve, and a few days of relaxation, and soon fell in love with the place. Penang is green, warm, and friendly, and is surrounded by beautiful beaches. It is also a free port. No wonder it is the most popular vacation spot in Malaysia, for local and foreign tourists alike. At Penang we visited the famous snake temple, where poisonous snakes are rendered harmless by the special incense in the air, and also the snake hospital, where snakes are milked of their venom for scientific uses. Actually, this was probably the only time I will ever see a snake in this country, for, although it has almost all of the nasty species, they are all nocturnal reptiles, and are hardly ever spotted during the day. 

At Penang we ate our meals from small stalls on the streets, and at these you could find just about anything edible. I usually had rice or mee (thin noodles), either boiled or fried, with chicken, pork, shrimp, crabs, stomach, squid, or anything else that you can think of. And I have yet to pay more than $.30 for a full meal. Jeep, don’t worry about my food problems: I have already gained a few pounds over here.

Selangor, where I am now living, is the most developed part of Malaysia, and Kuala Lumpur (the nations capital) is really quite modern, at first glance. The beautiful new national mosque, the national stadium, and some fine looking apartment complexes are all visible from my window. But just walk around town a bit and the old begins to show through. Last night I walked along Pudu road until midnight to watch the Chinese New Year festivities, and I saw everything from snake charmers to karate exhibitions to mind reading acts. They say if you look hard enough and long enough in the city, you can find anything you want, and it usually will be for sale in a street side stall.

I am now firmly settled as a teacher of mathematics at Victoria Institution,  the oldest school in Selangor, and reputedly the best in all of Malaysia. I teach 21 hours each week, and I am also the swimming and track coach (it has a swimming pool!) I live in the sixth form hostel, where I act as assistant housemaster to about 30 students. It is a very busy, but very enjoyable, sort of life. I still am a bit confused with the British system of education used over here, so I can't help much in a description of it – superficially, it seems to have an extraordinary emphasis on two or three examinations, administered to all upper form students in Malaysia each year, and thus my teaching duties are supposed to consist entirely of preparing my boys for these all encompassing exams. We’ll see about that!

Well, time to move on  – I travel to Malacca with some hostel boys tomorrow, and I must read up on that historic city. I include two pictures from my Hawaiian training – no shots from Malaysia yet, I’m afraid. My very best to you jeep and lots of love, Sam.

P.S. Just a few personal remarks. The most interesting aspect of Malaysia to me is it modern development, and its chances for success in the near future. It has many very great problems - the conflict among the races, the confrontation with Indonesia, and its strained relations with Singapore and Philippines – but I am not yet well enough informed on them to discuss them publicly, so I have left them out of  this letter. I hope you understand my wish not to misrepresent this country through my ignorance.

Jeep, if you ever decide to send me anything, may I influence your decision? I can buy anything you can send at a lower price over here, except for one thing: Kennedy half dollars. If I had known before I left for Malaysia, how much our late president was loved by the Malaysians, I would’ve brought a bushel of his half dollars over: for one of them makes the perfect gift from an American. So please, Jeep, if you decide to send me anything make it a 50 Cent piece, OK? Thank you, and lots of love, Sam.

Letter to family, from Victoria Institution, Feb 5, 1966

Dear gang, when I think of my early fears of being bored to death as a Peace Corps Volunteer - fears engendered, primarily, by letters from Peace Corps Volunteers in other countries, and with other job situations – I give out a short, high pitched shriek of laughter. Never has life been so full as now, never has just one hour with nothing to do been such a rarity; never have I enjoyed myself more.

Today is Saturday, and there is now a rare free hour, between swimming lessons and a softball game, to catch up on the news. The past two weeks have been unbelievably full: partly because my math classes are now moving along more smoothly, but mainly because of three festivals: Chinese New Year, the Malay Hari Raya Puasa, celebrating the end of the Muslim fasting month, and the Indian Thaipusam.

Chinese New Year certainly wins hands-down on the decibel rating system.  All of the first five days are only mildly unbearable (I managed a few hours sleep each night despite the fire crackers), the last of the 15 days is unimaginable. Strings of crackers 40 feet long are festoon over telephone poles and windowsills and set afire; ypung kids explode firecrackers looking like half sized dynamite sticks; older kids play games, throwing them at each other across streets. Best of all are the shop owners who stand at their first story windows and methodically heave pack after pack onto the crowded streets below them. The more paper that accumulates outside a merchant's window, the greater his stature in the eyes of his neighbors. This is the one time of the year the Chinese forget about making money, and they do it up big. Petaling Street, not far from the hostel, had almost a foot of firecracker paper laid upon it two nights ago, and the smoke was so dense that no one could walk through it. I only wish I could’ve made a tape recording of the noise to send you – it sounded like the end of the world.

The Malays and their month of fasting (during which they cannot eat or drink between sunrise and sunset: even swallowing one's spit is verboten) is a more quiet style, celebrated by simply visiting relatives, and, appropriately enough, eating. Otherwise you wouldn’t know anything had changed. It was pretty tough on the seven Malay boys in the hostel during Ramadan, especially since they were expected to continue their school studies. (40 class hours a week) and athletics. I’m glad the month is over. I did manage to squeeze in a Malay wedding at the end of Ramadan, and it was rather fun: sitting on the floor, eating with our hands, wearing the Mala national costume, etc. The groom's parents happened to be fairly well off (The father, in fact, was a Haji: a Muslim who had made the pilgrimage to Mecca – and only rich people can afford that), so the dowry was substantial, the money presented in the form of paper money flowers.  Afterwords, we were treated to some Malay dances by a professional group and a short exhibition of bersilat, the Malayan art of self-defense (with a short knife called a keris). And then, as at all get together’s, no matter what the occasion, the wedding celebration ended with rock ‘n’ roll dancing.

Since most of the shops in KL close down for both Chinese New Year and Hari Raya Piasa I hitchhiked with a hostel boy (Gok Boon Tan, a Hainanese boy) to Malacca for three days. Hey gang, Malacca is all-time. Called the "dreamy city", its history runs back to the 14th century, when it was founded by a Malay noble, in flight from Singapore, which had been destroyed by the Japanese empire of Majapahit. Malacca as a sultanate soon became the greatest city in southeast Asia; during its early days, Admiral Ching Ho, envoy of the Ming Emperor, forged the first Chinese link with Malaya.  Malacca fell in 1511 to the Portuguese under Alfonso de Albuquerque, and then to the Dutch in 1641. In 1824 they exchanged it with the British for been Bencoolen in Sumatra. Today it is dreaming – but who knows what may happen in the future? 

Boon Tan and I walked around the city for two days, visiting the ruins from its past occupiers, plus the oldest mosque and oldest Chinese temple on the peninsula. All around are sturdy Dutch merchant houses, ornate Portuguese churches,  Malay houses on stilts, and Chinese stores and temples – I have never seen such a mixture. There is even a statue of Sir Francis Xavier (who was once buried in Malacca).   I guess I was fascinated by Malacca because thus far it is the only city with western influence I have come across in the east. One example in particular: even today the Portuguese area of town is inhabited by people with light skin, brown hair, and a language midway between Portuguese and Malay. Wild place.  On our third day Boon Tan and I visited all his Malaccan relatives for the traditional Chinese New Year feasts: we visited about six families, gaining a pound with each visit. Good stuff, Chinese food, especially when the cooks stem from Hainan. We hitchhike back to KL the next day, thoroughly exhausted. Total cost for the 3 1/2 days: US $1.50. Ridiculous.

Ah, but now to the Indian festival: Thaipusam. I imagine the Indians would smile, rather indulgently over my excitement towards the Malay and Chinese festivals, for Thaipusam has them all beat in every which way: color, excitement, mystery, and just plain numbers. I won’t bother describing the meanings and purposes behind this yearly ritual, and I’m not sure that all the participants are themselves sure what they are doing or why they are doing it. But let me just sketch a few of the things I saw, and save the rest with my slides when I come back. Last Thursday night an image of the god Subramania (youngest son of Shiva) was set up in a silver chariot, not far from the hostel. The god was represented as a peacock, with six heads, 12 hands, and flanked by his two wives. Every head, hand, and wife had special, symbolic significance, of course. The chariot was reported by the papers to be worth $50,000. After heaping it with offerings (flowers, coconuts, plantains, limes, oranges, betel leaves, etc., they drive it by two sacred bullocks to the Batu Caves, about 7 miles from KL, And the center of Hindu worship in this country. I was at the caves Thursday evening to greet the arrival of the chariot; so were 200,000 Indians. I could count the Westerners I saw that evening on one hand. Boy did I feel in. Not much was going on Thursday night, because the big procession begins on Friday, but even so, quite a few Hindus, were going into trances, dancing, oblivious of all else, etc. I also had a chance to examine the kavadi to be carried by penitents on Friday. These are bow shaped structures of wood, decorated with bells and peacock feathers and all sorts of unknown objects. They each weigh about 50 pounds. Friday each penitent fastened his Kavadi across his shoulders by steel pins piercing his flesh. Some kavadi carriers I saw on Friday had about 100 pins sticking into their flesh, supporting the cavity, plus occasional pins going through cheeks, noses, tongues, etc. Some carriers wore shoes of spikes facing upwards into their feet. Each carrier had to mount the steps to the main cave entrance (270 steps or so) and then deposit the kavadi at the shrine on top. Nobody failed. When the pins were pulled out not a flinch, and not a drop of blood showed. Hoo boy, strange. Let’s hope the slides come out. Festivals like Thaipusam are hard to find these days, even in Southeast Asia.

Well, everything else these past two weeks must by necessity be anti-climactic. I was a pallbearer at the funeral for an old headmaster at VI, whom the papers described as great, kind, etc., but whom the present headmaster personally thought was a class A bastard. I tend to have faith in the present HM judgments. I gave a lecture on American culture, my first public lecture of my life.  I rather enjoyed it: three more to go this coming week.  A boy in the hostel caught malaria for the third time in a year, but he has now fully recovered, and considers these recurrent bouts much as a Westerner would a common cold. Let me a reassure you, that my Aralen tablets, which I take once a week) absolutely guaranteed the impossibility of my contracting malaria (no malaria cases for the Peace Corps in Malaysia, yet, in fact).  Now that I have my daily rhythm down pat, and discover it involves four showers between daybreak and dusk, I splurged three dollars on a handmade Indian towel, yellow and black, 5‘ x 7‘: you don’t know how good a shower can feel, until you hit a Malaysia, and the drying is an integral part of the ritual. My coaching duties are now restricted to three swimming groups and some pole vaulters (yeah), but I try to get in some badminton and table tennis (and, yes: Frisbee) when time allows. Yesterday we had a Malaysian first: my hostel boys stood a local girls school at American softball; the boys lost but otherwise a whole affair went off pretty well.

Now, for some details: First of all, screw, Reagan, but keep me posted on him, will you? Secondly, the knife did arrive, and thank you so much for it: I use it almost every day and for all sorts of odd jobs and can’t wait to try it underwater this coming school vacation. Third, make sure I get the speed reading lessons, will you? I am very eager to try out the system. Finally, there is something you can send me which I cannot get here: Kennedy half dollars. They make the ideal gift from an American to an Asian. So if you find a time and coins, a few mailed my way would be most appreciated. A few nickels and dimes wouldn’t hurt also. Otherwise, KL has everything.

Hey big fella, congrats on the Santiago gambit: I want full details on that city and country. And the trip over here sounds fantastic. I will be on holidays for most of December and the first week or so of January: how does the tour of Thailand, Cambodia, Hong Kong, etc., sound? Or maybe Indonesia, New Guinea, Borneo, and northern Australia? Or maybe just Malaysia? Give me some ideas, and I’ll start hunting around. And I can arrange it cheaper and easier from here, remember. Lots of love, Sam.

P S. Just saw the The Incredible Journey:  one dog looked and acted like Gina so much I got homesick.  Waaah!