Brunei. (yes, just a period will do.)

Bandar Seri Begawan, Brunei

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No one really knows what to expect when going to a place they found out existed two years ago.  That is, my introduction to Brunei, yes, it’s a country, came from two references in the same week, after that it was on my radar.  The first instance being an article in Travel magazine that happened to be on our living room table, the second was while watching VH1’s Lifestyles of Filthy Rich Billionaires, this program talked about the Sultan of Brunei’s billion-dollar yacht.  Aside from the riches and the two words that got this politics nerd even more interested was “oil-rich” and “sultanate,” it was like reading geopolitical literotica.

 That being said, Brunei is located on the island of Borneo, which is south of Malaysia.  Borneo is controlled by three countries: Indonesia has the biggest portion to the south and west; Malaysia to the north; and then Brunei which has it’s 382,000 person population located in a small slice of paradise cover just over 200 sq.km.  Like Malaysia there are three official languages, Malay, English and Arabic, in that order; however presently the Sultan has decided that there will be a gradual shift to using Arabic over Malay given the intense Muslim heritage or his Sultanate.  The judicial system has two types of law.  English Civil Law; which is all about S&M, caning and hanging and paperclips on your nipples (OK, I made the last part up).   The other is like Muslim law.  Most people apparently choose to get tried in this court, since you have a choice.  I don’t know what the punishments are probably saying Hail Mary’s or something.  While on the subject of religion it is important to mention that there are two churches in Brunei, Catholic and Anglican, you can practise your religion on the grounds, but once you set foot outside, it’s Allah country.  As you know there is no other Allah and Mohammed is his prophet, but they forget to add that the Sultan is pretty tight with Allah so he decides how to interpret it. 

I should point out that everything closes around 830p  and 1030p at the latest, according to the locals “there is sun, but no fun in Brunei.” Leave your alcoholism on the plane or in KL because you can’t sip the syrup in Brunei.

 Oh, and you guessed it, the Sultan reigns supreme, anything he says goes, no questions - he exiled his own brother, but I’m getting ahead of myself.

 The Empire Hotel is just that an empire, it has a golf course and a multiplex, not to mention a hotel that dwarfs anything I have EVER seen (It is apparently one of two 7 Star hotels, the other is in Dubai).  The only word to describe it is palatial, which is funny because that is what it was meant to be.  It was a gift to the Sultan’s brother, which he attempted to sell for about 100 import cars and X amount of USD not too long ago.  It was for this somewhat dirty business that Jeffery, who was also the Minister of Finance, got his ass exiled.  The Sultan doesn’t play, on the real, don’t let his record of free education, subsidised housing, next to free health care fool you, he has a hammer and knows how to use it.  Though, the brother ended up pretty well he now lives in London in a million plus flat.

 At about 900p I arrived in the Brunei Darussalam International Airport at Bandar Seri Begawan. I was the only white person (or “Cauc” as I was informed later by an Australian fellow I met on my return journey) I knew that this place had sold out to Royal Dutch Shell instantly, all of the jetways have Shell in Arabic on them.  It was still warm, very warm.  The cab driver I hailed was ex-military, although everyone in Brunei must serve - he chose it as a career. He said he was a squash player, Olympic calibre by his own recounts, turned soldier and civil servant.  Othman, also alerted me to the fact that there was an Asian Tour golf tourney at the Empire.  I thought, bonus round, relaxing and golf, this did however crush my dreams of playing a round. 

 As I pulled up to the Empire I could not believe it, it was truly “Asia’s ultimate hotel.”  The lobby is stunning marble as is everything else, shiny, it was almost gaudy, definitely ostentatious by western standards.  Side note: of all two hotels I have stayed at that've had a majority of Muslim inhabitants (The Grovner House in London and The Empire), there is a propensity to have a tawdry green everywhere especially for the upholstery on chairs, even Robin William’s blind interior decorator would say “oh, dear Christ, who let this happen!”  I couldn’t tell that night but the lobby building was six stories tall, with windows all around looking out into the pool area and the South China Sea.

 The pool is epic, it’s like Pirates of the Caribbean meets The Beach.  The all connect and there is sand on the bottom.  People are wheelin’ around in sea kayaks in the damn pool it’s so big.  Though, there are smaller more localised pools for the other buildings.  Funny enough no one is the South China Sea, except me – something about jelly fish, but it didn’t phase me. I just with I had someone to sail with because they had a Hobie and it was gale force.  

 My room was about twice the size of my apartment. Marble bathroom, it was pretty ridiculous.  I hope I can post pictures.

 I would talk about the palace, but it’s only open after Ramadan, when he personally greets every visitor.  Oh, yeah, if you touch him, he’s lucky. Psh!  I did see the Queen roll out in a motorcade in her Benz though, got pics.

 Bandar Seri Begawan,  means city of blessings, it is an interesting city.  It was the conclusion of the tour.  Although, the tour went to the water village, I skipped out on the free ride back to explore.  I walked past the Mosque that you see in all of the post cards, it was spectacular.  White and gold.  The sun reflecting of it’s surface reflected its majesty upon the moat.  People walked in and out.  The city itself is not very busy given the small population of Brunei, streets are short lanes for the most part.  Buildings are pretty tightly packed.  Though, what is remarkable is how every building has a birthday card to the Sultan on it.  His birthday was the 15^th of July, and apparently he accepts adverts as birthday cards, he is 63, the longest ruling sultan.  Earlier that day, we went to the Royal Regalia, which displays some of the gifts he received at coronation, I guess the simple things are really what he appreciates, maybe after receiving a 1/100 scale model of Mecca, it’s easy.  By the way the US and other western countries gifts are in his palace for him to enjoy. 

What is remarkable, is that I see Presenjit Duara’s work everywhere (not just in Brunei, but literally everywhere, I am a Duarist, this is hard to explain), Kathy would be proud me.  Flags are everywhere and other pictures of the Sultan (can’t say his name because it is a paragraph long. But, I got news for him, King of Thailand’s name is longer), additionally the street signs are in Arabic and English.  The regime of authenticity is definitely a top-down phenomenon.

 Museum anthropology is also a part of the Kansas City Shuffle of being a tour guide.  Show them what they want and get them to look one way while something else is going on.  Something slightly less attractive.  For example, I was stunned by the glory of the mosque, but I saw something on the other side.  A shanty town.  Turns out Pleasantville has its rainy days too. 

 I took the bus back, seven people were on it, nicest public transit ever – it even had a conductor and a/c. It only cost B$ 1 to go anywhere.  I enjoyed my DQ blizzard after a disappointing time at the mall.

 The next day I chose to stay at the hotel and enjoy the facilities.  I think I was the only one that day to enter the South China Sea, and as I mentioned before there was a stiff breeze.  It was at the restaurant on the see shore that night that I watched the sunset into the sea.  Would have been nice to have other people to share that with, but beautiful nonetheless.  The pictures and video that I took of the sunset really remind me of a postcard or handout that I took from the doctor’s office when I was younger.  I remember that I lost it behind the radiator at the house I grew up in. 

 That night I finished off all of the grading that I had to do – 25 Mid-Terms in one and a half hours, now what?  CNN anyone? Wish I had Bloomberg.

 The last day in Brunei was spent sweating on the golf course and writing blog entries.  When I say sweating those who know me understand, but in all seriousness it was 107 on the course.  Which was very green and not too daunting, the winners in the past had finished around 15-19 under par.  But, I will say there were some gnarly hills and hazards; for example, a sand trap with sawgrass in it, and a sandtrap after a tee box that required about a 230 yard carry of the tee, or else you were in the beach.  Both the front and back nine have holes on the South China Sea where the wind is blowing.  Simply said, the sultan’s brother knew what he was doing when he hired Jack Nicklaus to design his course.  Did I mention that the fairways are all lined with lights?  Night golf is permitted on the weekends.  Though, rumour has it the Sultan plays during the week at night.

 When I got to the Brunei Darussalam International Airport I realised I had three and a half hours to kill.  I went hunting for conversation.  I plopped down next to a middle-aged woman and began to chat.  She was Australian as was her boyfriend of 20 years, Andrew.  He was a firecracker of a human being, bubbly, and I though he was going to jump out of his chair when he was telling his stories about his travels.  The guy had been everywhere; in fact he and his girlfriend (whose name I can’t recall) had just done an 18 month 6 country journey.  Here I though I knew how to travel, I was wrong.  Long story short, after two hours of lively discussion, I now have a place to stay in Perth.

 On the plane I sat next to one of the golfers from the tourney, his choice of expletives as he sat down, which I believe was in reference to the usual 3 hour Air Asia delay – Air Asia, we’ll get you there, buuuuut that’s about it, after hearing him I knew we would get along.  Steven, is Malay, moved to Australia to learn English during school, but when he moved back to Malaysia he refused to speak his native Malay because he claimed English was more important.  So, he can speak Malay but chooses only to comprehend and answer in English.  I appreciated his cynicism towards KL were he grew up and his generally caustic wit. Fun guy to sit next to.  His advertisement of Jakarta sold me, I’m there.

Next thing I knew it was 3am and I was back in a hotel room 30 minutes from the LCCT.

KL in closing...

In Malaysia, and more importantly KL, the stigma that exists about foreigners in Thailand is not at all evident.  That is, I am not "farang," nor am I considered to be there on a mission to rape in pillage.  In Thailand, if you are white, your assumed purpose is to steal their woman and exploit their economy.  Whereas in Malaysia, you are there on business or you are a tourist, simple as that. 

I'll get Brunei up soon. 

 

  

I heart KL

KL BABY! 28 July 2009

 

I will try and keep it shorter from now on, maybe

 I got of the plane and it hit me.  I was in Malaysia, at the LCCT, KLIA-LCCT to be precise (if you are not up on the Southeast Asia jargon: KL=Kuala Lumpur, LCCT=Low Cost Transfer Terminal).  Though, it was not this self-conscious realisation that enveloped my body as soon as I set foot on the stairs; actually it was the humidity.  Flying roughly and hour and a half south of Chiang Mai had somehow caused me to end up in a land of suffocating humidity.  Not going to lie, at this point - after living through Bangkok and living in Chiang Mai - I am somewhat of a humidity masochist, a glutton for meteorological punishment.  So, from my first step on Malaysian soil I had a smile on my face – to be fair it was there since I left home.

 The LCCT is a pretty big terminal, I would say about as big as General Mitchell in Milwaukee, and inside it is busy.  People darting every which way, not to mention there are people in Haz-Mat suits checking for H1N1 (the swine flu).  Aside: uh, hey, it’s the flu, normal influenza, which sadly hundreds of thousands of people die from every year; furthermore, the World Health Organisation has stated that it isn’t that big of a deal.  And, as for the masks, they don’t solve anything – viruses (or if you are from Thailand, “Wiruses”) are very small – surgical masks a) can’t protect you b) don’t cover all of your orifices.  Enough about that.  In the airport you are greeted by three languages: Malay, English and Arabic – which could have been Jawi script a way of using Arabic to write Malay phonetically.  Also, the LCCT may be one of the only airport which it is necessary and cheaper, to reserve your taxi inside.  If, by chance, you plan on hitting up KL, remember this it will save you time and money, as independent Teksis are hard to come by at the airport and on average 20 ringgit more expensive.

 While in the taxi from the airport to KL (not trying to be cool by using the jargon, nobody calls it Kuala Lumpur, except tourists and flight attendants – air hostesses / hosts, sorry) I noticed that my camera wouldn’t turn on.  At the time I had some choice obscenities go through my head, followed by the though that this could be an adventure.  An adventure it was and a comfortable one.  The ride from the airport consisted of rolling hills and little housing developments, and the best part was as you roll into the city the skyline is perfectly visible.

 The Concorde hotel (I could see the Petronas Towers from my room :) ) receptionist told me to take the monorail from Birkit Nanas to Birkit Bintang, since I don’t speak Malay this meant nothing to me.  The monorail is pretty amazing as I only had to walk out of my hotel about 100m and there I was at the first place.  It runs right through the heart of KL.  There is also a subway and bus system that I didn’t have the pleasure of trying, but if it is anything as user friendly as the monorail, I mean to try it.  Those of you who understand or are aware of my love of mass transit will get this, for those who don’t know: I love mass transit, especially if it efficient and cheap.  KL’s is, and even at peak time (rush hour) it is nothing like Tokyo or Shanghai, could be because there are only about 5 million people in KL.

 Eventually, 10 minutes later, I made it to the Sony kiosk at a mall where I was informed that my battery was not just dead (batteries are very dramatic, they are either alive, or dead) it was broken. I bought a new battery.  Next adventure, sim card, I knew from Thailand that finding what you want isn’t always easy due to the lack of good English in Southeast Asia.  I stood immediately corrected.  English in KL, fantastic.  I found it in 5 minutes and I was back on the monorail.

 After reaching my stop I noticed something looming of in the distance.  It was, yes, the reason I was there, the Petronas Towers.  Awesome.  I didn’t really look or even both to ask for directions, although up until that point everyone was friendly and knowledgeable, I just looked at the towers and went on auto-pilot snapping pictures along the way.  As I arrived at an island amidst the traffic, I was joined by two men a Malaysian and an Indian.  Their relationship was curious, they didn’t speak with words, only Navy SEAL-esque hand signals.  It was obvious the Malaysian man spoke English as he asked me to take their picture and then returned the favour.  I couldn’t figure it out, he wasn’t deaf.  It turns out that they had met that day, they found they had mutual goals of getting to the towers and the Indian didn’t speak any English. 

 Friendships between people of many nationalities are quite common.  Though what I find amazing is that English, or “inserr-shortened-demonym-here-lish,”  is the language of choice.  Which is funny considering that I have dedicated a good portion of my academic experience to training myself in foreign languages, so that just this phenomenon would not occur with me because I ostensibly I could carry on in the other person’s tongue.  This raises two points of significance. 

 One, the more simple of the two, is that English is, obviously, and indeed,  “ the universal language” – in quotes as I am alluding to the future a moment, these are the words of my Hokkien Chinese (minority) tour guide while in Brunei. 

 Second, it illustrates the overwhelming penetration of the west in Asia.  That is not to say that it is always a bad thing, however to me it is somewhat disappointing.  Being that, all of these linguistic groups come together not sharing their native languages but a foreign language (just how foreign is a real question when we consider aspects of globalisation, such as pop culture, as well as factoring in a possible past colonisation).  It is impressive to see people struggle with what I have deemed the Cantonese of western languages.  On one instance I overheard a Chinese friend of mine speaking with her Thai friends boyfriend, who is Korean, on the phone in English, she doesn’t even speak to me in English.  I believe it is precisely these instances that should motivate Americans even more to learn foreign languages.  In general they seem reluctant to try.  But, it is the latter example of my Chinese friend that gives me hope.  People love it that much more when you speak their language.  See what I said about rambling, maybe someday I will flesh out what I mean by all of this.

 Let us return to the majesty of the towers.  At dusk, the lights begin to shine atop the towers, like two diamond-cached sceptres the rise into the sky.  I stationed myself in the park ever so close to them.  There I ran into a group of girls and took a picture of the three of them.  One of whom, was named, Singhua, Malay-Chinese, and believe-it-or-not a recent grad of the University of Michigan.  I asked why they were here, being that three of four people I had now run into around the Petronas’ were Malaysian.  They replied that it was a fun place to take pictures and a place of national pride.  Understandable.  But, being from Chicago, another city with a tall building, I interjected, “I’m from a city with a tall building, no one goes near it, and there are not too many people working there.”  After the small talk and introductions, I asked them what all I should see for my 28 layover in KL.  They giggles, talked amongst themselves, looked back and said they didn’t know.  What kind of locals were they? Apparently, when one lives in KL, they feel as if t is like any other city, boring, and that there is nothing to do.

 As there was no help there I went to dinner at the Hard Rock Café, must admit it is my second trip to one of these establishments.  On the walk back I realised I hadn’t eaten all day amidst the excitement of a new city, my appetite disappeared.  I must say I gorged on possibly the best Western cuisine I have had since late May when I left the states, moreover two-for-one bevvys from 5-9. Tummy ache, and sleep followed.

 My goal for the following day was to get to the top of the towers, were apparently you can see the curvature of the Earth, amazing.  Unfortunately my trip was cut short because tickets sell out by 0900, I arrived at 1000.  So decided to go to Chinatown and Central Market (a shopping area that was been around for nearly 200 years).  Though, no sooner did I get in a cab did I realise that I was informed, it was a special “standing” taxi.  30 ringgits for hailing it! The driver was nice enough to drop me off at the closest taxi stand where the ride would be a total of 5.50 ringgit.  Wow.  Customer service in Malaysia is at a premium, I will explain further soon.

 Central Market is a bustling area full of women in muslim garb and men in T-shirts and jeans.  There are little shops and kiosks everywhere selling sweets, trinkets and souvenirs.  Unlike most markets, this one is inside and air-conditioned, I found exactly what I needed as I was greeted by the woman at the information desk.

 In Chinatown, I bargained with a man and his wife, in Chinese.  I was paid the highest compliment I have ever received, prior to being called an “egg,” (white on the outside, yellow on the inside), I was confused for a Chinese person (take that Professor Chen!). Flattery, because he knew he'd just screwed me on the sale of a t-shirt, maybe, but I'll take it.  He said it was  more or less because of my speech patterns and pronunciation, and because I had my sunglasses covering my eyes, when I removed them he said that was the first time he had a white person carry-on with him in Chinese.

On my return to the hotel / airport, I made friends with a taxi driver, now when I got to KL he is my driver, Kopal.  When I met him he attempted to charge me 10 ringgits for a 6 ringgit ride, I called for the meter and he agreed. He said, in Malaysia, as the sign in the cab reads, “the customer is always right.”  He said at maximum he would only make about 5 ringgit of a person who didn’t say to use the meter, much more fair then the Tuk-Tuk or Songtaew drivers who will stop at nothing to screw the foreigners.  I took his word for the price to the airport and told him to run the meter as well.  He was spot on.  Simply said I now have a driver.  All I need now is a personal assistant and a message therapist.

 KL, because of the people and because of the energy of the city has taken a piece of my heart.  It has eclipsed Shanghai as my favourite city, which is saying a lot.  It has inspired me to learn Malay – I would slay this language, like fish in a stream, it even uses the Latin alphabet and there are no tones, game over.  I also wish to return, the people are friendly, the public transportation is great – although a bit discombobulated, the don’t really coincide with one and other too well and the LCCT is cut off from that system almost completely (one must take a shuttle bus to KLIA and then get on a subway, then get on the monorail), the food is fantastic, there is nightlife, and the price is right, reasonable.  For the short stay that I had it left an impression.

 But, from KL it was onward to Bandar Seri Begawan, Brunei! (The exclamation point I found wasn’t really needed after all, you’ll see.)