Chinese People Will Eat Anything

21 September 2009

Into Pulau Penang, the huge island off the west coast of Malaysia that is home to Georgetown, formerly the British settlement established in 1786 and maintained until 1957. The mainland bit is called Butterworth—which just makes me hungry as I envision a land of pancakes and maple syrup. I had roti and dhal for breakfast, people, I can be excused. Though it was very good roti and dhal and cost me 30 cents.

Georgetown is very cool, a Unesco World Heritage city, protected, and yet still a bit rough around the edges. Loads of colonial buildings, mixed in with Chinese temples and Indian restaurants; the push to be “1Malaysia” composed of a harmonious mix of ethnicities and faiths is tangible here, something the government is clearly pushing hard. But it is actually noticeable, there are groups of Indians, Chinese, and Malays all in distinctive clothing—some headscarves, some tank tops, some saris. Little India is loud and busy, music playing from shops, and smells of cumin and cinnamon. Chinatown is all red banners and gold lettering, noodle shops and steamed buns. In between are mosques and churches, and families piling into all of them in new clothes for the holiday. I'm not sure how much mixing there is personally, something it would be interesting to know more about...adverts seem careful to include a comprehensive range of ethnicities, but people on the street seem to stick to their own company.

We had a gorgeous Indian meal last night; no plates, just banana leaves to mix your curry and rice on. Wandered along the sea and past Fort Cornwallis (would also like to know how Cornwallis got a fort named for him in 1786—had he not just lost, you know, America for the British? I need wifi). We're at the Cathay Hotel, which looks colonial and whatnot outside, but is a bit shabby in...I think it's seen better days, and there is a sticky brown stain on the floor that we are avoiding and also quite hoping is coke, not blood. But after Railay, nothing was going to measure up, and the sheets are clean.

Today David went off to see the Leong San Tong Khoo Kongsi, which is apparently a Chinese clan house and the Heritage Jewel of Penang. I went to the mall and read a trashy fantasy novel. And had iced chai tea latte at Starbucks. We went to the cinema for the first time in about 8 months, because we were bored and wanted some air-con...G-Force is about secret agent guinea pigs and not the most intellectual film ever, but had the undeniable advantage of being in English.

For dinner, one of David's beloved treks to find street food...and one of his better efforts. Lovely cab driver who lived in London for 8 years and chatted about Penang for ages, dropped us at the Hokkien Chinese food markets on the sea front at Gurney Street. Hundreds of people out for the holiday, at dozens of food stalls offering every kind of cuttlefish, dried squid, chicken feet, intestines, sour plum juice, and every other nasty things can think of. Seriously, Chinese people will eat anything. Fortunately, they also make very nice other things to balance out the weird bits, like Asam Laksa—some sort of fish with noodles and onions and broth that is very yummy, and Penang Prawn Mee, sort of a noodle soup thing, and watermelon juice and, somewhat randomly, sarsparilla soda. Nothing cost more than $1, which is how we (read: David) like it.