Wednesday, April 9, 2008

KL: 22C - 33C overcast, high chance late afternoon thunderstorm, 89% humidity

First - The Weather Report

Second - The God Report

(just joking)

Malaysian weather is a fairly predictable thing. Coming from Melbourne, the home of Four-Seasons-in-One-Day, it certainly is a pleasant change. I wake up in the morning, and know that a t-shirt and shorts will serve me well throughout the entire morning, afternoon, and evening. I know I will need a jumper if I am going somewhere with sub-Antarctic air-conditioning, like Monash or the movies, but that otherwise, I'll be fine. I know that if I want to walk anywhere late afternoon, it's wise either not to bother at all, or prepare to be soaked, even with the protection of an umbrella.

And I also know it's going to be humid. Reeeaaaalll humid. Apparently the local humidity levels hover at around the 90% mark, and for someone not really used to it, it turns
the most simple of tasks into torturous ordeals.

So when you’re walking along this...

Common garden-variety Garden Path


You feel like you are climbing this...

Pathway up Mount Kinabalu, Malaysia’s tallest mountain

On the weekend I went to the FRIM (Forestry Research Institute of Malaysia) which was pretty rockin. We hiked up to a canopy walkway, which was awesome. When you reach the first platform of the canopy, you begin to realised that the entire canopy walk seems to be constructed out of ladders roped together with planks of wood nailed to the top. I'm not quiet sure why, but for some reason I felt the need to trick myself into thinking it must be way more high tech than it appeared. The walk up was beautiful, but also kind of like hiking the above mountain. But however much I like to have a whinge (not that I do....), I will always be in awe of the women that exercise in this ....

Random photo stolen from 'The Hijab Shop'

Even more extreme were the ladies, presumably from the Middle East, seen hiking in the national park at Langkawi in the full burqua. Coming from a country where the large majority the population are non-practising, I'm used to religion being viewed pretty apathetically and it not playing a large part in daily life. This is certainly not the case in Malaysia. Like any place, there are people who are non-practising, and even a small minority who are atheist or undecided, but generally speaking Malaysians are a heck of a lot more dedicated to their chosen God/Gods. Which is pretty lucky, considering that the crazy heat + head wear must = pretty freaking hot!

It is interesting to see the way that religion is part of the everyday life, and how quickly it has become part of mine, even though I'm not 'part of it all'. When choosing where to eat dinner you automatically do a mental religious head count to remember who can eat at non-halal restaurants and who can't. Religious conversations here are inevitable, no matter how quickly you try to run away. I have friends who hold viewpoints on certain matters that I find utterly offensive, but can accept as part of them because it is part of their belief system. According to the statistics that Sheree and I are compiling, there is a Bible Study class held somewhere in Sunway at every moment of the week. We know this because we have been invited to and turned down an invitations to every single one. I wear a pendant of Kali, the Hindu goddess associated with death, wrath and destruction around my neck, which wins me the hearts of Indian shopkeepers country-wide .. and a lot of bemused looks. Anyway, its all very interesting, all this religious business. That is all.

I'm much too tired to make any sense at the moment, so I'm off to bed, but love and thoughts go out to my housemate Juliet and her family. Juliet is Nigerian and on Sunday her step-mum was kidnapped for ransom by thugs. Juliet's Dad is a politician and apparently the kidnapping of wives and children of politicians is a growing problem in Nigeria. Anyway, for those of you who pray, say one for her safe return. Everyone else - cross your fingers I suppose ...



Peace Kiddies


Monday, April 7, 2008

My Lawyer Told Me To

Before I write any more on this blog, I want to make a little disclaimer.

If I say something negative about Malaysia on here, it shouldn't be taken literally, or as a sign that I hate Malaysians or their country. Nothing could be further from the truth. I'm loving it here. I'm loving living in a different culture and experiencing everything there is to experience.


But I'm new here. And I'm also a well known whinger. I like exploring the differences between different cultures. Such differences often grate against each other. This isn't Malaysia's "fault" or my "fault" or ANY ONE'S "FAULT"- it's just the way it is. If I find something difficult to adjust to, I might write about it. If I find something interesting about your religion, I might write about it. I am often sarcastic. I'm sorry if this is ever taken the wrong way and found offense. It's just the way I am. I wouldn't ever set out to intentionally hurt someones sensibilities, and I hope that I never have.


I think the main point that I am trying to get across is that if you don't like what I'm writing, don't read it. Recently I (or someone very similar in description to me) was detailed in a student magazine as somewhat of a racist by a "journalist" whom I'm sure was well-meaning and has stacks of research at home to back such claims up. Since then, I have been reluctant to post, well, pretty much anything, less I offend anyone or my blog serves to reinforce the non-existent existence of my racist alter-ego. But I can't really be bothered anymore. I am who I am, so if you don't like what I'm writing, go read something else to whittle away the hours. Like some fantastically balanced state-owned media. Go Barisan National!

love jax
x0x

-fin-

Wednesday, March 19, 2008

Just a quick note to say ...

HAPPY BIRTHDAY PROPHET MOHAMMAD!

Today Malaysians (and I'm sure other mainly Islamic regions, and just Muslims in general) celebrate the big kahuna prophets birthday. According to some dodgy random website that I stumbled upon, the 'birthday' celebration is actually held on the anniversary of his death ... which is weird. But you know, whatever floats your boat Muslims.

I had the *awesome* idea of going down to the local mosque this morning and singing a breathy version of Happy Birthday a'la Marilyn Munroe to JFK, but apparently its not the done thing. I can't really see the problem with it, but you know, respect other religions and whatnot (smartarse!)




Whilst on the subject of religion, Happy Easter to everyone at home. Think of me with pity - this country possesses neither hot cross buns nor Easter eggs. Yes, tis' a crime against humanity. However, also think of me with jealousy, as I go island-hopping round some of the finer parts of Malaysia - including the awesomely duty-free LANGKAWI!! Bring on the AU 25cents cans of beer! Duty-free Malaysian prices are enough to make a girl start smoking again! (just kidding Grandma)


Anyway, peace out to all, have a SAFE and HAPPY Easter break. To my Asian friends - try not to study too hard :)



*Disclaimer - Okay, this is actually a mosque in Istanbul. Truth be told, I haven't taken any photos of the local one, mainly because apparently its not all that impressive and I haven't been bothered to check it out. However, I promise to get my Islam on sometime in the near future. The mosque at Shah Alam, the old state capital, is supposed to be the biggest in the country and blinging to the max so I'll make my way there soon.



PS - If someone could explain to me the reason behind the various spellings of Mohammed, I would be much obliged. Oh, and the difference between Islamic banking and "normal" banking. Oh, and how to use the tandas pipe ... just kidding .... but it would be cool to know ...

Thursday, March 6, 2008

Selamat Pagi Everyone!

Alternative Title - …urm, good morning everyone!

I have been horribly lax in updates since I arrived in this beautiful sweaty country, and I apologise. However, all things considered ....

My A) My life here is not terribly exciting. I go to school, I come home, I eat rice or noodles. I don’t think daily updates are needed!

AND

B) B)If I do write something, I feel the need to pressure myself into writing something witty … which isn’t going to happen at the moment. My level of wit is at an all time low, and considering I never started off very witty, the current status is dismal indeed. Fainting from the heat and food poisoning I’m sure a funny blog make, but only when they stop happening.

In the meantime, here are some random rambling on my daily life in Bandar Sunway. Like I said – this is boring stuff folks. And long. Veeerrrrrryyyy long. I mean seriously, scroll down and check that shit out before you commit yourself to it. The aim kind of being to bore you all to death, so I never have to pretend to be witty again! I could advise you to just skim read the highlights, but that would imply that there were actually highlights.

HAPPY READING!

Contrary to rumours circulating, I am currently in Malaysia, and have been for about three weeks. Various people seem a bit unsure as to my whereabouts, and whilst I’m sure Malaysia’s not quite as exciting as living in Singapore (Cammo), or clearing land mines in Cambodia (Mike & Joe), it’s all right all the same. I'm living in this bizarre town called Bandar Sunway that seems to be owned by this corporation called “Sunway”. It’s a strange kind of place to live in, and consists of:

Two universities (one called Sunway College), student accommodation (I live in Sunway Condo), a water theme park (Sunway Lagoon), hotels (Sunway Pyramid Tower Hotel), a mosque, slummy crap housing and condo housing, car-makeover shops and the worlds most over the top shopping centre (Sunway Pyramid).

Picking up on a theme here?

When I arrived here I called everything Sunway, which confused taxi drivers to no end. “Take me to the Sunway” is often followed my strange confused silences, as the driver calculates just how stupid I am, and how much I can be overcharged.

Hundreds of people work in the streets every day in orange Sunway uniforms picking up rubbish, painting road lines and sweeping the roads and footpaths ( all by hand), pulling weeds or sitting in the shade. My housemate said they get paid approx 2RM an hour, which is pretty miserable ($1AU = 3RM). The going rate for working in a fast food place like McDonalds is 4RM, and a nicer clothes shop 8-10RM. In Sunway, “fun” is defined by either eating or shopping. Yeah, it’s party town day and night here ….


My accommodation is basic but okay. I share a room with the other Aussie girl here Sheree who is pretty sweet as far as roomies go. She doesn’t have crap taste in music, doesn’t eat stinky food and doesn’t whinge non stop about stupid shit, or in fact at all, which is pretty much like hitting the jackpot in Malaysian condo sharing. Her one vice is whistling or singing NON STOP, but I’m sure the stuff I have been slipping in her drinks will take affect soon and fix that little problem. (Hi Sheree, if your reading this I love you and I’m clearly JOKING …ha…ha..ha….)

I also live with Danielle, a 16 year old English/Malaysian, who is lovely, but 16 and obsessed with stupid English footballers like the hideous Beckham. And Evelyn, a rocking little Indian-Malay, about whom I can find nothing horrible to say, so instead I’ll just call her a little village girl to offend her. Two new Indian girls, one of their mothers and a maid (?) arrived the other day and proceeded to drive us all nuts by rearranging all our stuff and scrubbing the entire house like we are dirty heathens unfit for their daughters company. Parenting here is certainly different than it is at home.

The rules of the condo are over the top and starting to get a bit annoying but we try to sneak around them. We live in the girls condo, and a security guard is stationed at the bottom of the lifts at all times. If a boy is seen in a lift apparently they bring it back to the ground floor and interrogate him! No cooking, drinking, fraternizing with boys, using the pool before 9am between 12-4pm or after 9pm, 12pm curfew, and constant ID checks are the major annoyances. It is a well known fact that Mr Tan the head honcho is open to bribery so that’s always a fallback if we get in trouble. I managed to bang out sneaky pasta the other day and we have snuck in and hid some vodka so we can have a quiet beverage on the sly. The boys also snuck some turtles up to their room and have turtle races. Cleaners come everyday to “empty the bins” which is code for “to perve on what your doing and report back to Mr Tan,” so you have to be on constant lookout!

We tried to organize to use the BBQ downstairs for Sheree’s birthday and it would have required a usage fee, deposit, passport handed in, guest list handed in a week before the date with everyone’s passport numbers, exact time frame, no loud music, no alcohol (of course!), and a security guard pretty much standing watch. A bit of overkill to say the least.

The segregation of males and females is probably the most annoying. The girls here are all really nice but generally speaking not up for a party. Most are Muslim or have grown up in a Muslim country, which doesn't really create a drinking and partying culture. However the boys I hang out with here are usually up for something exciting or going out somewhere. It seems so stupid that I can't have any of them over for coffee but when I walk down the street random men can make cat-calls and blatantly stare me up and down, and no body bats an eyelid. The system here seems a little out of whack to me, but then again its all part of living in a different culture. Even one with piggy men around! I have been told that even if I was wearing a freakin burqua I would still be stared at, just because I'm white, but the attitudes of a certain type of men here towards women is still probably the hardest thing to deal with culturally.

The Monash here is an attempted replica of the Monashs’ in Melbourne, and sometimes I forget I am overseas and just think I am sitting in the library at home. The main difference is the level of intense security as well as classes being held in Manglish, which is a kind of regional English I suppose. In Asian cultures it is apparently considered very rude to ask questions of your teachers, as it implies that they are not doing a good enough job. The public education system here gives no voice to students, and the teachers can say the most outlandish stuff and no one will say a word. I made an enemy or two in the first week without even realizing it, just by asking questions in class. I spoke to one of my cool teachers about it and he said that they shouldn’t be doing that at Monash so just to continue as I am. I will try to tone it down a little though.

People here find the concept of working to support yourself at university pretty strange and overwhelming. My cool teacher asked who worked over summer, and out of a class of 30 I was the only one who did. One other girl did work experience. It is very common for people to leave university at 22-23 having never worked any job at all. My rocking friend Jaiqi is Singaporean, and having served the compulsory three years national service, he is starting first year accounting at the age of 22. He will graduate at the age of 25 probably having never worked a ‘normal’ job, but the pressure on Asian kids to do well from their parents seems more intense than working part-time. Everyone talks heaps about how hard they have to study to make sure they get good marks, and to meet their parent’s expectations. It’s only now that I’m overseas that I realize why everyone thinks Australians are so laid-back. We never talk about study amongst ourselves and get bored shiteless when others start talking bout it. If you have to study, bugger off and do it – we don’t want to hear about it!

I am attempting to learn a bit of Bahasa Malayu, and am getting dodgy lessons from Ev my housemate and an Aussie called Sam who is fluent in Bahasa Indonesian (pretty much the same thing). The most useful phrase in my repertoire is ‘Tidak pedas’ (‘not spicy’), but what the Malaysians believe is spicy and what I believe is spicy are usually two different things! My favourite security guard Mohammed is also trying to teach me, whilst another one called Chawee is attempting to teach me Tamil. I may be getting a little bit confused…

I went to the Batu caves on the weekend which was awesome. A trip to the Batu Caves is a must on any travelers list of ‘must do’ in KL. Partly because there is not much to do, and partly cause it’s a pretty cool place. The Batu (which means stone or rock for those playing at home) Caves are a Hindu shrine and seem to play a major part in the local Hindu population’s religion. It has a massive 140ft blinging gold statue out the front, and Hindu gods are way more exciting that traditional ones. My favourite is the cow with human boobs and a human head, bird wings and a peacock tail. I don’t know who came up with their gods but they look sweet as. The monkeys there were a bit vicious too which was funny.

We are going to a place called the Genting Highlands this weekend. It has the world’s biggest hotel (so they claim!), theme parks and Malaysia’s only casinos. The best thing about it though is the fact that it is usually bout 10 degrees cooler than everywhere else, which will be refreshing! Election voting is being held on Saturday and I have been told by an unreliable source it’s lucky that we are getting out of town, as riots are commonplace in this area and the condo usually goes into lockdown mode. Genting is a tourist trap so I doubt it will be affected. Apparently whoever gets in power usually declares Monday a public holiday so that should be cool too.

Well, I hope I’ve bored you all suitably. My love goes out to all, or at least most of all. Take care everybody, and don’t forget to update me on the boring shiznit that you’ve been up to.

X.O.X.O Gossip Girl

(haha – sorry, lame in-house joke. I’ve got a sick addiction to that horrible show, that disgusts my housemates)

Sunday, November 25, 2007

Pathetically Apathetic


Alternative Title - Wave your arms in the air, like you just don't care (but secretly, you care a lot - like waaaayyy too much)

It's always been known that I am generally a loud-mouth on, say, any issue, ever.

'What's that, you guys are talking about the plight of Indigenous Australian's in remote outback communities? Isn't it clear that the answer to this extremely complex issue is to simply ...'

'Pardon me? Paris Hilton photographed reading the bible post-jail? Well, according to my Bible classes as a child, it doesn't say 'Thou Shall be a Skank' anywhere in Genesis....'

'Tasmanian truffles? Don't be absurd! Everybody knows the finest truffles only come from the Langhe region of Italy!...'

Some naive people (okay, maybe one naive person) once mistook the fact that I have opinions on everything in the known universe as knowledge, but most people rightly recognise that I'm just a twat that likes to talk the shit, most of which makes no sense whatsoever. Which makes it really hard to find people who want to chat the politics with me. Partly because I'm a shit talker, but also because apparently, its not cool to talk politics. Or think about politics. Or read the newspaper. Or both of the newspapers. Or watch the 7.30 Report with Kerry O'Brien. Or have fantasies about getting freaky in the House of Representatives. SOME DAYS I DO ALL OF THESE THINGS! It is with this knowledge that I discovered in the lead up to this years election that I am a political nerd.

I love nothing better that pouring over the various political parties policies, trying to balance my vote between anything I may possibly gain, and anything that may be gained for general humanity or the environment.

Election day excites me. I don't find it inconvenient at all; in fact, it's one of the highlights of my social calender. It's the one time of the year, bar 6PM on Australia Day after one too many Green Apple UDL's, that I feel a sense of Aussie Pride. I get excited walking through the gates of the local primary school, knowing that I'm gonna 'make my vote count.' I love sneering at the Liberal and Family First spruikers that try to hand me their 'How to Vote' cards. I know how to vote you mo-fo's, and it certainly ain't by ticking either of your boxes!

I have nightmares that certain types of people in our society are not only encouraged to vote, but forced to ...


However even the likes of people like this seem to realised that, like a famous pollie once said, 'It's Time.' Not suppertime. Or timewarp. Or even Hammertime. 'It's Time' to get rid of fecking Howard. HOORAY!!!! Now, lets all wait with baited breath for Rudd to cock it up!

Tuesday, November 20, 2007

Inmate #475621

Alternative Title - Duck, Duck. Duck, GOOSE


Next year I go here. Which is cool, really cool, and exciting, and various other adjectives. The other day I had a session where all the kids who are going had to get together and become friends, presumably because we are going to be spending a fair bit of time with each other next year. And I was really happy because they are all really really nice guys. But then I realised there was a problem. They are all dudes. And I am a girl. And we are going to live in a Muslim college. SO, whilst the guys are all free to hang out together, opposite sexes are banned from going into each others rooms. Or apartments. Or even floors of the condo on which the opposite sex reside. Or their common areas. And there are wardens to ensure this is all adhered to.



Caption: Living on campus is fun

I know I'm just being a whinger - I knew I was going to be in an predominately Muslim country, albeit a fairly liberal one. And I knew I would be living in an Islamic school's accommodation, and that they were fair hard arses. I'm just struggling a little with some concepts, such as gender segregation, and having a curfew, let alone a VERY EARLY curfew.

Just to clarify the situation, we were shown a montage* of what wouldn't be going on amongst my fellow expats and myself.

Namely, there will be none of this ...





... or this ...




... and certainly none of this ...




Whoa. The most disturbing thing about that last one is not the picture itself. I mean, that still is very disturbing, but there is something more disturbing to it. Like the fact that somebody feels the need to have the image engraved in stone and presented on a plate to display somewhere in their home. Imagine if you actually received this as a gift. And the person came round to your house all the time and you had to keep it on display or they would be offended. I mean, what the freak would you do? This is hurting my brain just thinking about it. I think I'm going to go have to have a lie down and a Bex to recover.


PS - I made the montage up for the sake of my story. However, if Monash had provided us with a montage, the images would have been way dodgier. I mean, until recently, I had to look at this guy on the Monash website almost every day! Even he hated looking at it!

See what I mean!

Monday, November 12, 2007

The Hair Maketh the Girl

Alternative Title - Discovery of the Week


Discovery - Short Hair + Girl = Lesbian


How do I know this?


Well dear readers (yes, all ONE of you), I know this because I got my hair cut short. Like, shorter than usual. And no, this did not result in a 'Oh my God, I love women!' style epiphany. But apparently it should have, according to the patrons of The Worst Club in The World on Friday night, who questioned, informed, harassed and generally told that I was a lesbian, could be a lesbian, looked like a lesbian and generally tagged me as 'lesbianised' due to my haircut.

According to the girl who tried to convert me on Friday night, I was "lost", and my haircut was my way of saying to the world - 'I'm in the closet! Set me free!' Which is a theory, if an absolutely stupid one, but maybe she should try to explain that to the guy that I have sex with regularly. I think she may have failed to realise that the offensive concept that gays can be 'straightened out' is pretty similar to her concept that I could be 'gayified', and that it remains offensive whichever way you roll.

And apparently short hair meant some guy honestly thinking I was the lesbian contestant from America's Next Top Model and asking, in all seriousness, for an autograph for his little sister. Now, I didn't watch to show, but I can pretty much assume that the title is indicative of a few things that I am not. Namely, AMERICAN and POTENTIAL TOP MODEL.


But according to a drunken buffoon, apparently, this is me:




I can accept that. We are pretty much identical twins. Whilst I'm posting pics, Beat Magazine was at the club taking photos and my girlfriends and I got our photo taken. Here's how it appeared in the local street mag.



It's how we roll. (For those wondering, I'm the shiny gold lady-lover down the front)