Straights of Melaka

I'm back to solo traveling, which suits me just fine. The bus trip from Penang to Melaka was the best my trip has yet to offer, with huge plush seats and a pleasant seat mate. Bjorn was a 19-year-old gap year traveler from Sweden: sweet, rather earnest and very quiet. I didn't feel much like talking either and so we shared a companionable silence for the journey. I settled into my very comfortable seat with the Asian version of a fast-food breakfast: sweet milk tea on ice in a plastic bag with a straw sticking out and a triangular package of Nasi Lemak: rice with spicy sambal sauce, anchovies and a hard-boiled egg, all wrapped in a banana leaf. Amazing breakfast food - and much better than any McSomething on offer back home.

During the eight-hour drip, the landscape of Malaysia flew past me lush and green, reminding me of Where the Wild Things Are, which was one of my favourite bedtime stories as a kid. The landscape seemed untouched and undeveloped - I wondered where they were hiding the 25 million people who allegedly live in this country.

Once ensconced in a so-so guesthouse in Melaka, I went in search of food...and found the holy grail. Screw Bombay Mahal on Jean-Talon in Montreal! I have officially found the best Indian food restaurant in the WORLD at Pak Putra Restoran on Jalan Kota Laksamana in Melaka. This food was so good, I would wage holy jihad for it. I would personally sponsor each staff member of the restoran for Canadian immigration - and all their wives and children and aunties and uncles and parents. The place was unassuming, set in a quiet strip mall a few doors down from the 7-Eleven. Permanent spots were set up inside but most people chose to sit at the plastic tables and chairs in the parking lot, enjoying the fresh night air. On the kerb were two tandoori ovens, one to cook the skewers of their famous bright-orange tandoori chicken and one for the naan breads. I loved the sound that the naan-wallah creates when he thumps the dough on the side of the tandoori oven. I went back three nights in a row to try different things on the menu: the most flavourful saag paneer, butter chicken, succulent chicken tandoori, mutton roganjosh, beautiful garlic naans dripping with butter, vegetables markhani, and aloo bhindi (a curry of potatoes and okra) that melted in your mouth...heaven on earth.

The town of Melaka was colonized by the Portugese and the Dutch, so walking through the streets of the old city feels like a stroll through a European town. I did the usual: wandering, eating, looking, sipping and smiling. A old Malay man, a taxi driver on break, beckoned me to drink sweet chestnut tea with him from a street stall but had to rush off for a fare half-way through our conversation. A Spanish couple who have retired in Thailand struck up a conversation from the next table at lunch, reminding me of my parents with their tanned skin, warm smiles and youthful vigour. Finally, two Malaysian couples joined me at my riverside table and urged me to have another cendol with them - this is a Malay dessert of shaved ice, coconut milk, sweet green noodles, red bean jelly and corn (sounds like it might be weird but it is very good and refreshing!). I shared a great conversation with them, talking of travel, working life, marriage, etc. One of the women, Azmah, was most memorable. "Look how brown her skin is," she murmured to her husband, and we laughed about the strange dichotomy in which Western women want tanned skin and Asian women think white skin is most beautiful. Later, she looked at me pointedly: "When will you be married?!" An excellent question, I thought, but I still didn't have an answer. Despite my solo state in life and in travel, I am never alone when I meet so many angels on my journey.

My time in Malaysia came to an end all too quickly. I wish I had planned more time here because I was pleasantly surprised by what I found. The Malays seem used to visitors: Chinese and Indian immigrants abound, not to mention all the Europeans who colonized various parts. The language was so similar to English: you eat at a restoran, buy medicines at the farmasi, and take a teksi or bas for transportation. I felt remarkably at ease for a white woman alone in a Muslim country - but maybe it was a testament to my presumptions that I expected it to be difficult to be a woman in a Muslim country. In addition to being hospitable, I found the Malays to be relaxed, friendly...and very good at making amazing food!

I'm on to Singapore but I know I'll be back someday to Malaysia. Lots of love to everyone back home.