Cultural differences abound

Budhist temple

     So despite the general laid-back, friendly atmosphere, there were definitely some cultural differences to remind me that I was far from home.  Like the fact that I never, ever saw another pale-faced Anglo like me anywhere in Bintulu.

Concrete frescoes on a wall at the city park. There were eight of these, four on each side, apparently telling the history of the region in pictures.

     Language was often a challenge.  Malaysia's principle language is Mandarin Chinese (which of course is Greek to me), and they also speak Malay.  But most of them speak English - to varying degrees.  One day I had to buy some decongestant tablets at a local pharmacy, but in order to communicate to the clerk what I needed, I had to pantomime a sneezy, stuffed-up nose.

     The food was mostly very good, but …  There were a few dishes put before me that were, so to speak, not my cup of tea.  Many were full of critter parts that we Americans would not exactly consider "edible". 

      Most every meal was eaten "family style" where they'd put the dishes on a lazy Susan and we all just helped ourselves.  And of course I was the only one who had to ask for a fork!  But omigosh the VOLUME of food was unbelievable.  It was all just a continuation of what I experienced on the airplane flight:  the waiters would just keep bringing more, and more, and more dishes.  At many points I thought, Ok, that must be the last dish - now we have a fighting chance to consume most of this.  But again and again I was wrong.

      But we did patronize one good ole' American standard once:  we had breakfast at a McDonalds. - the ONLY McDonalds in the entire city.

Clarion towers broadcast Muslim chants

      One aspect of every restaurant we visited that I found really perplexing was the lack of napkins.  Either they had none at all, or the ones they had were pitiful little things thinner than toilet paper.  And even then, you had to specifically ASK for some.  Even the McDonalds was awfully light in the napkin department.  Side note for anyone traveling to Malaysia:  bring a big pack of quality American napkins and stuff a handful in your pocket whenever you go out to eat.

      The residences where the people lived that were visible from the street ran the full gamut.  There were some splendid mansions.  And there were the ever-present shacks, apparently assembled from whatever discarded building material the resident could scrounge. 

       The Muslim influence was never far from mind.  These clarion towers around town would ring out with the sound of some dude chanting prayers at certain hours of the day.  The airport had special prayer rooms.  On my flights in and out of Dubai and Kuala Lumpur, there were many women wearing the solid-black full-body cover with just the eye-slit.  On one airplane flight, I saw a woman lay a prayer mat in the aisle by the exit door, and get down.

Typical public toilet

      And I can't leave out the toilets:  EVERY public toilet had this squirt-hose thingy attached to the plumbing.  I guess napkins and toilet paper fall under the same rules for the devout Muslim.

Some things are the same no matter where you go.

Fishing boats. Note the bright colors.