in which a nation turns 52

hoo, boy. there’s been so much going on these two weeks – something interesting happening, or some utterly delicious food to eat. i don’t even know where to begin. i mean, there’s so much i want to tell you,

like how we received a lovely package the other day from my US-based sister containing, among other things, Trader Joe’s peanut butter, Pia Jane Bijkerk’s book on Paris’ handmade boutiques, some of my favourite sea-salted milk chocolate, and bacon jam. skillet. bacon. jam. i’ve been saving it for some occasion where i’ll rip it open and slather it on a slice of toast and gorge myself on it. or maybe not, but you know. hot damn.

or like how the sky sometimes looks like this from where i live, gloriously ablaze with evening sunshine and intensely sculptural clouds, the kind Renaissance painters have in their works, glowing pinkly towards the east at sunset.

or how i spent half an hour post-thunderstorm trying to photograph the jolts of lightning that would streak across the skies like sharp white-blue talons, flashing like cameras, and deleted the only shot i had,

or how the city is at 4.30am: rippling fingers of cool wind curling around your neck, the occasional car trundling across the roads, a sea of golden lights, empty streets, the sound of sleep and an amazing feeling of peace.

i could tell you about how we messed around with my sister’s underwater camera, and how Apple likes this picture of me that she took very much. i suppose i could tell you about my faux pas this week, like how i ranted on about press freedom in malaysia in front of 600 people and had the principal edge up towards me gesturing for the mic and causing me to, uh, fuck it up in the most embarrassing way possible, or how we transported my 5.5ft x 3.5ft painting home by gripping on to it for dear life from inside the car, because it was too big to fit inside. or maybe about dinner at a seriously transcendental bak kut teh place somewhere in KL, where there are shiao hsing enoki mushrooms and constant refills of soup.

then again, there’s a Japanese “bistro” in the Mandarin Oriental, where prices are kind of ridiculous but so is the food. ridiculously good, i mean. they serve a gorgeous miso-goma dip with cucumber and carrot sticks as a prelude of sorts, and the wasabi sampler served up the best dragon roll i’ve ever had – a perfect balance of slightly creamy and perfect sushi rice and fresh ingredients – and sublime ahi poke tossed in clean, tangy dressing and chopped spring onions, among other things. i could tell you about watching Up, which has the most beautiful 20-minute sequence at the beginning of the film of Carl and Ellie, despite it being a “morally trite” film. (“I do not like the Cone of Shame.”)

but, y’know. the country i live in celebrates its birthday in about 15 minutes. so i’d rather tell you about Ramadhan instead, and the mind-boggling array of food at any post-Maghrib bazaar you go to – this one in Section 17, at the flats nearby. under circus-like umbrellas there are mostly Malay vendors selling vats of curries,

heaps of fried fish, rainbow-coloured iced drinks from chrysanthemum tea to asam boi,

most stalls selling different styles of chicken from fried to percik, briyani, a huge rack of lamb on a spit,

really fabulous murtabak – a spiced meat mixture wrapped in roti jala batter -

to say nothing of little infants cute enough to eat.

but the point i’m trying to get across is that in a racially divided country like Malaysia (but it’s improving, methinks, with no thanks to Najib and his idiotic 1Malaysia campaign), food tends to be the great uniter, and you see that at bazaars where all kinds of people come just to buy good food. it’s one of the best ways to get to know an alien culture – eat its food

there is a self-deprecating joke i’ve heard Malaysians make, namely that the best thing about Malaysia is its food. (some say this is the only thing, since there are no more rainforests in Borneo, and the politics as you well know are total shit) that’s only true to the second degree: the people who make its food are the best thing about Malaysia. and i am eternally glad for the murtabak, thosai, Ipoh hor fun, nasi kandar, mutton Roghan Josh, xing gua tau fu, pork noodles, lemang, steamed egg, stir-fried ferns, herbal chicken, all kinds of amazing food and the places they’re in,

and for sugarcane uncles like him who have Playboy stickers on their machines. (good things come for those who wait!) happy birthday, Malaysia.