OznAsia

A couple of weeks ago I was in Kuala Lumpur and wanted to go to Melaka. I was staying in the Chinatown-Petaling Street area and the bus station was just around the corner. Or so I thought. When I got there with my far too many bags I could see that the entrance I usually used was closed. I asked a passerby how to get inside. 'Oh, it's closed. They're rebuilding it.'

I asked where I needed to go to get a bus to Melaka. Fortunately I was more or less outside a railway station on the line that would take me to the temporary bus station. I didn't have a deadline and it was still early in the day so not a big deal. When I got off the train I had to walk perhaps 200 metres to the bus station. The bus fare to Melaka was about RM12 (about A$4).

The Melaka bus station is no longer in the centre of Melaka. Unfortunately these days, it seems, bus stations are not being built in the centre of cities, or downtown as the Americans say, they are built out in the suburbs. When I first went to Melaka the bus station was in the Hung Tuah area which was not all that far from Chinatown. If that was where you were heading you could walk assuming you knew the way. It's still walkable from the new bus station but only to a long-distance trekker with a boy to carry his luggage. Now there are taxis to take the rest of us there. There are also buses if you know which one to get and I do but this time I was carrying way too many bags and felt I really needed a taxi.

But I needed something else even more when the bus pulled into the bus station. I needed to eat. So when the taxi tout approached this skinny guy with far too may bags I was able to say 'No, I'm going to eat first.' That was only postponing the inevitable. So I returned a while later and tried to negotiate a fare. It didn't matter who I asked. The fare was RM30. I pointed out that I'd travelled all the way from KL for only RM12 and that paying RM30 to go the last two or three kilometres was absolutely crazy. But they wouldn't budge. I didn't like either of the other options, ie bussing or walking so I shut up and paid up. BTW, taxis in Melaka don't have meters.

I had a delightful two weeks in Melaka. I had forgotten how much I love this place. Eventually it was time to return to KL and the guesthouse rang a taxi to get me to the bus station. When he turned up, I asked how much.

'Fifteen ringgit'.

I'd already put my far-too-many bags in his boot. He could have asked for 30 or maybe more. But this time it seemed I'd got one of the honest taxi drivers. I trust there are a few more of them.

When the bus reached the bus station in suburban KL there were half a dozen taxi touts waiting at the door. I was the last to get off. There was only one tout left. 'Where you go? You want taxi?'

'No, thank you. I'm getting the train.'

'Train? No train here. You have to walk six kilometres.'

'Bullshit,' I said, grabbed my far too many bags from the hold of the bus and walked past him. Ten minutes later I was on a train on the way to Chinatown.

Labels: "Kuala Lumpur" KL, Asia, Kuala Lumpur, Malacca, Malaysia, Melaka, ripoff, travel, trust

On my first visit to Cambodia some years back I met a few young people and as we were chatting some made some disparaging remarks about Thai people. 'How many Thai people do you know?' I asked.

'None,' came the answer.

'So, tell me—How many fingers do you have?'

'Ten.'

'Mmmm. Same as Thai people. And what about toes? How many toes do Cambodian people have?'

'Ten.'

'Just like Thais. How many eyes do you have?'

'Two.'

'So do all the Thais I've met. And ears—How many ears do you have?'

'Two.'

'The same as all the Thai people I know. You know,' I said. 'Thai people are even more like Cambodian people than I am. You can be friendly with me, why not Thai people?'

I don't want to put these people down. I don't want my Thai readers to think any less of them. They simply didn't know better. They'd never met any Thais but they'd been taught to dislike them. They perceived differences but I pointed out how much Thais and Cambodians have in common. How different their attitudes might have been if they were taught this as children instead of being told lies.

Mem Fox is an Australian storyteller and children's writer. I know that Mem and I share similar attitudes on this issue and others. It seems that Mem has undertaken to write a book to teach the same concept that I was talking about. It goes...

'There was one little baby who was born far away.

'And another who was born on the very next day.

'And both of these babies, as everyone knows,

'had ten little fingers and ten little toes...'

The text of the book does not mention any differences at all but Helen Oxenbury's illustrations show babies from many different races and the book subtly and beautifully suggests that we all have more in common than we are different.

I've bought copies of this book for my grandchildren. Maybe I should buy a few for my friends in Cambodia.

Ten Little Fingers and Ten Little Toes
Mem Fox, Helen Oxenbury
Penguin / Viking, 2008
Mem Fox's website

Labels: book review, Cambodia, children, children's books, family, fear, Mem Fox, prejudice, storytelling, thailand, tolerance, trust

I sometimes wonder where fear comes from.

If you've ever looked at my flickr pages you may have noticed that I enjoy having my photo taken handling snakes. Yes, I'm showing off but the only reason it gets attention is that others find snakes—maybe reptiles in general, maybe spiders too—scary. Why? I have a feeling that this fear is learned. My siblings are not quite so comfortable as I am with reptiles so I wonder why I didn't pick up this fear.

One of the good things about my childhood was the environment we grew up in. Our home was on a half-acre block. Most of the houses around us were on similar blocks and on one side were several acres of bush. And it was crawling with reptiles—many species of lizards and quite a few snakes. We were warned to keep clear of the snakes as they could be poisonous—and some were. If Dad ever caught a snake it was killed.

Bearded dragons were extremely common and still are in Brisbane backyards. I realise that in some countries now they keep them as pets. If they are handled regularly from birth they become tame but ours were wild. They grow to about 60 cm long. When they are babies it is OK to pick them up by the body but the big guys will bite. There is a trick. You have to get their feet off the ground quickly. When they see you they puff their 'beard' out to try to scare you but it is mostly bluff. If you grab them by the end of the tail and quickly get their feet off the ground they are almost helpless. They try to reach you but they can't if you hold them at arm's length.

That was the technique I used as a kid. Bear in mind that this lizard might be 2/3 as long as I was tall at that time. My macho brothers were not brave enough to do this. But once I got one off the ground they were happy to take it from me. One day one of my brothers had one that I'd picked up. I'd asked for it back but he wasn't returning it. I reached out to take it from him. The lizard reared up and bit my thumb. I lost some of my enthusiasm for picking them up after that.

Snakes were another matter. I accepted what my parents said but I was probably also reading and learning for myself. Carpet snakes—Australian pythons—were relatively common. I knew they were almost harmless, at least not poisonous, and they were easy to identify by their strong pattern and their size. The bush next to our yard ran down to the Brisbane River and there was a boat shed on the river bank. One day there was a lot of excitement because one of my younger brothers had found a carpet snake hibernating in the rafters of the shed. My two younger brothers were with some friends. They managed to force the snake down with a stick, held it with a forked stick and one of them was returning home victoriously with it across his shoulders. One hand was holding its neck tight the other hand its tail. As I said, the snake was hibernating, but now it started to wake up. As I came on the scene it was starting to wrap itself around his neck and he was calling, 'Get it off! Get it off!' So I helped him to carry it up to our house where they made a pen for it from some pieces of old iron roofing. Many of my brothers' friends would come around to see this snake which was about two metres long. Even though the snake was hibernating and was not going to attack anyone they had a ritual to go through whenever they handled it. First its neck was pinned by the forked stick and only then would one of them grab it behind the head tightly and boldly lift it out of the pen. One day there was quite a crowd there and I was watching this procedure. I could see that the snake was too sleepy to attack anyone. I calmly reached over the side of the pen, picked the snake up and dropped it into the middle of the crowd of kids. They sure ran fast until one of my brothers came back with the forked stick. I just stood there and laughed.

Through my life I've treated snakes based on the following knowledge. A snake will usually only attack you for one of two reasons: 1). It is planning to eat you; or 2). It thinks you might attack it. When you consider this, you realise that at most times we have very little to fear from snakes. Most Australian snakes are too small to consider eating a grown human. However you have to be careful not to put a snake into situation number 2. They will attack to protect themselves. But generally, they will be trying to get away from you faster than you from them. There are exceptions, some species like the Australian taipan are both aggressive and poisonous but they do not live in the area where we lived so they were not an issue for me.

A little north of Sydney at Gosford there is a reptile park that was started by a man named Eric Worrell. When I visited they had a pit which was about 3 x 5 metres. It was literally crawling with tiger snakes. Tigers are one of the world's deadliest snakes. There were so many of them in the pit that if you were brave enough to get in with them you would have had difficulty finding somewhere to put your feet. While we were looking over the wall, Eric Worrell jumped over, into the pit and walked among the tiger snakes. One by one he picked them up and in front of the small crowd that had gathered milked them for venom.

On one of my early visits to Thailand a storytelling camp was held in Mahasarakham. After the camp was over, I was staying one more night at the campsite and some of the students had stayed back to keep me company. We were chatting in a circle when someone came from outside and said, 'There's a snake over there.' I immediately got up and started heading towards my room. 'Where are you going?' I was asked.

'To get my camera.' I came back with the camera and started walking towards the snake.

'Where are you going?' they asked again.

'To take a photo of the snake.'

'No! No! No! It might bight you.'

'That's OK. I won't get close enough.'

'Don't go any closer. You don't know anything about Thai snakes. It could be a cobra.' I was perhaps about 5 metres from it. I stopped. They were right. I didn't know anything about Thai snakes. It might be a cobra.

I followed the advice and took the photos from that distance. This was my old Kodak camera. It doesn't have the zoom I have on my fz20. With the fz20 I wouldn't have needed to get any closer but it wasn't invented at that time. Still I got this photo. I've cropped a lot of background here.





A few days later I was in Bangkok and I paid a visit to the Snake Farm. They had a show which included cobras. The handlers were working very close to the cobras. After the show I asked a few questions. I showed them my picture, told the story and asked if they could identify the snake. He did and said it was harmless. I asked how close it was safe to get to an unidentified Thai snake. He said one or two metres. 'What if it was a cobra?' I asked.

'One or two metres,' he replied.






After that they allowed me to hold one of their Burmese pythons and my friend took a few photos.

When I was in Kuala Lumpur not so long ago my friend, Shuenhuey, took me to Batu Caves. At the entrance to the caves there was a guy with a large python that for a small fee you could handle and take photos. I gave Shuenhuey my camera while I held the python. I wanted to get some photos that I could use to show off to my grandchildren. We got a few good photos and went into the cave.

On the way out Shuenhuey said she was thinking about getting her photo taken with the snake. I was impressed. For me this is no big deal but she had grown up with the same fear of reptiles that most people have. Seeing how casually I had handled it she had decided that perhaps she could face her fears. I encouraged her and as you can see, she did it. (But check out the kid in the background.)

People have all sorts of mistaken beliefs about reptiles. How many people, for example, think that snakes are 'slimy'? They're not. Sadly we also often take on beliefs about other people who we've never met. Just as we do with snakes and lizards we think that people of this race or religion are all .... You fill in the gap. Me, I do my best to travel to exotic countries, meet people and find out first-hand what they are like. Just as I do with reptiles.

Labels: Asia, Australia, DC265, fear, fz20, KL, Kodak, Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, reptile, snake, trust

An article in the Nation newspaper in Thailand recently reported on an international health conference held in Sydney. An announcement was made from the conference giving an opinion that governments concern themselves too much with fighting terrorism while obesity is killing millions more. Isn't it ironic. We focus so much on the enemy out there when the greatest danger we face is ourselves.

Labels: politics, terrorism, trust

Having been away from Cambodia for a year it could be said that my Khmer language skills are a little rusty. My familiarity with local prices is also out of touch. This helps me to understand why in some places vendors increase prices for foreigners. This morning I had a plate of bor bor (rice porridge). When I finished I asked, 'Ponman?' (How much?).

'Pram roi,' was the answer.

I had to think about this for a while to make sense of it. I mean, pram roi is 500 reil which is less than 14 Australian cents. If she had said 'pram buan' (5,000 reil or $A1.40), I would simply have paid without thinking about it. So you see, when I first returned, it was easy for me to make this mistake. On several occasions I did. And offered to pay ten times the correct price. On each occasion, so far as I know, the overpayment was returned to me. I don't think anyone took advantage of my confusion.

Labels: Asia, Cambodia, travel, trust

One of my inspirations as a traveller is my daughter, Melanie. Mel spent about eight years travelling in Southeast Asia, Europe and Africa. Sometimes I would hear little stories about some of the things she had done and I would wonder, 'Is she aware of the potential dangers or is she blind to them?'

After she'd been gone for about six years I took a trip to England where we met up. We talked non-stop for days and I learned that Mel knew of the dangers but was prepared to take a certain level of risk.

I remember the time, in Switzerland I think, when a group of backpackers, can't remember the details, were all killed on an adventure rafting expedition. At the time I thought of Mel. I thought that perhaps this is the sort of thing that she might have done and I asked myself how I would have felt if she had been one of those to lose her life.

The answer that came back to me was that yes, I would have felt very sad about losing my daughter, sad for me but not for her. By time Mel had reached 30 I believe she had lived as much in those years as others might live in six lifetimes. I would be happy that she had had the courage to put so much into her life. Fortunately Mel continues to live and to experience life to the full. I wonder how many lives she will have lived before she finally dies.

In the Vietnam travel forums there have been a couple of postings about people being robbed. This prompted a few posters to give their rules of how to avoid dangers while travelling. One such rule was 'Don't talk to strangers.'

I wonder what the travel goals of the person who wrote that are? I guess if all you want to see are sights then that's OK. But I love to meet people. Sometimes I go somewhere where I already have a contact and it's easy. Sometimes I go places where I know no one. Unless I'm prepared to talk to strangers I won't meet a soul.

When I'm in Kompong Chhnang in Cambodia, and people everywhere are saying 'hello' to me, of course I answer them back. I notice that most westerners visiting the town don't.

In Vietnam I talked to many people. Most were only talking because they wanted to sell me something. But I'm capable of saying 'no'. I can still have a pleasant chat with them before they go and try someone else. I made a few friends in Vietnam. They were all strangers at first. I don't automatically trust. One such person offered me a lift home the first night we met. I was wary. I declined. But we met again and built a mutual trust. Had we not talked in the first place my time in Vietnam would have been much less enjoyable. This friend proved to be totally trustworthy, just as my friends in Cambodia did. I'm glad I don't have that rule.

On Sunday I arrived in China for the first time. China is very different from anywhere else I've been. Is it dangerous? There are warnings here and there in Lonely Planet guidebook. When I booked into my hotel the receptionist showed me a sheet on which was written three rules, one of which was 'Don't accept a drink from a stranger.' I guess they are telling me people spike drinks in this town in order to rob travellers.

I'm in a town called Nanning and I've notice that there are very few western tourists in the town but my rarity doesn't make me an item of interest. I don't think I've been ignored so much in any part of Asia. When I have engaged people in conversation I have discovered that very few speak English. This does present challenges for me. I usually ask strangers for directions but most here can't understand me. Finding my way around town is not made any easier by the fact that about 99% of signs are in Chinese. They obviously don't feel a need to write bilingual signs which are not uncommon in other parts of Asia.

All this I see as a challenge that I take on with enthusiasm.

On Sunday after I'd booked into my hotel, I went looking for an internet cafe. The only one listed in Lonely Planet appears to have closed down. All that's there now are game machines and none of the staff could understand me. The best I could do that evening was to have a five minute trial on a demo machine at China Telecom. And for a demo machine I might add that the speed was quite slow.

Monday morning I went out determined to find somewhere close to the hotel to eat and an internet cafe. I had my laptop in my backpack. I also had my camera around my neck just in case an opportunity arose.

I hadn't gone far when I found a little hole-in-the wall place where I could see people eating noodles. I looked a bit closer and could also see they were serving congee (rice porridge). With sign language I ordered a bowl of congee with vegetables. The woman serving pointed to the Chinese sign on the wall where the price was listed as 1.50. Since one Australian dollar is roughly equal to 6.5 yuan I could figure out that my breakfast was going to cost me less than 30 cents Australian, not a bad deal. I nodded my confirmation.

While I was eating a young guy came in and ordered some noodles. As he walked past my table he said with the very careful intonation of an English learner, 'How-are-you?'

'Well,-thank-you.-And-you?' I replied with the very careful intonation of an English teacher.

After I'd finished my congee I went to his table and asked, 'Do you speak English?'

'A little.'

'Do you know where I can find an internet cafe?'

He didn't understand. I went back to my table and grabbed my Lonely Planet. I turned to the language section at the back and pointed to the word 'internet'.

'I send you,' he said. Many Asians use the word 'send' where we would say 'take'.

I waited until he'd finished his noodles. He led me a few doors down the street and into a building that had many signs but none in English. He led me down a corridor to the back of the building where there were stairs leading up.

I'm thinking, 'I don't know this guy. I don't know what's up these stairs. Is this safe?' I followed but kept a little distance.

On the next floor was a door. He opened the door and inside I could see many computers. We went in. He spoke to the girl on the counter and told me 'Two yuan an hour. I pay.'

'No,' I said. 'You don't need to pay for me.' I put five yuan down on the counter.

She gave me one yuan back and he told me, 'You have two hours.' He led me to a computer.

I got out my laptop and started to explain to him that I wanted to connect it. He understood and called the guy over. He got out the ethernet cable and I was able to plug it into my computer.

But it didn't work. Usually this computer connects automatically. I fiddled and tried a few things. I knew what I needed to do but I needed help from the guy who was running the place and with the language barrier it was too difficult. I decided to use one of their computers.

At first, my new friend sat beside me looking over my shoulder reading all the emails I wrote. Eventually, he picked up from what I was writing that I needed to go to an internet cafe where they spoke English. He got out his mobile phone and made a call. He told me 'Speak to my friend, he speak good English.'

I spoke to his friend who made a few suggestions.

Parn (that's his name) went off and came back with two Cokes. He'd also booked himself onto the computer next to mine. He got onto the chat lines and contacted a few more of his English-speaking friends and asked their advice.

The upshot of this is that when my time was up we headed off in a taxi to Guangxi University. While we were heading there I was reviewing the situation. I hadn't drunk much of the Coke, only enough to be polite. I don't usually drink Coke. But I had drunk a drink given by a stranger. He could have spiked it before he gave it to me. But it did taste like normal Coke. And now I'm going off in a taxi with him. I can't understand what he says to the taxi driver. He could be taking me anywhere.

But we ended up at a university and Parn, who has told me he doesn't have a job, insists on paying the fare.

At the university, which he is not familiar with, we find the foreign language department and an English teacher. He explains the situation to her and then excuses himself saying he has to go. The English teacher is going to send me to a computer lab with a note explaining what I want to do. But then she rethinks the situation and says I can connect my computer in her office.

I disconnect her ethernet cable, connect it to my computer and it works. I sit down and set to work. While I'm there students and teachers come and go. The teacher who set me up has gone off to a meeting. Others use the computer (without internet) next to me. At one point a student engages me in conversation. She comes from the same province I'll be heading to in a few weeks time. We chat for about half an hour.

I must have ended up spending about three hours connected to their network. The teacher is still at her meeting. I leave a 'thank you' note on her desk and take a taxi back into town.

When I look back, I had an enjoyable and productive day; I met many good, friendly people who wanted to help me, simply because I wasn't paranoid and was prepared to talk to strangers.

Labels: Asia, China, holiday, Nanning, travel, trust