Food adventures in Perak

How lucky we are to have landed in this part of the world. KL might be more modern, more sophisticated, and better equipped, but we find the rural charm of Kampar appealing. Both Kampar and Ipoh are known for their wonderful array of excellent food, each having its own signature dishes. We are still working our way through the restaurants, famous and not-so-famous, and are loving the experience of discovering new places and new foods. Unfortunately I don't have as many photos to share as I would like, as I tend to get carried away with the experience and forget the photos. Harry also teased me yesterday, that you are supposed to take the photos before you start eating the dish! Yes, I know, but I get excited and before I know it, half the dish is gone and no photograph has been executed. Oh, well, the food looks more appreciated this way!

Last night Harry took a group of the managers from the plant to dinner to celebrate successfully attaining the ISO standard, and we were invited along. The Inventor unfortunately decided he would prefer to be in the proximity of a toilet, but I went along with Lorena, the new lab manager from the Philippines who arrived in Kampar yesterday. She is living near us and will be relying on us for transport for now. We ate at a place which even Lorena knew, one of a chain of restaurants called Secret Kitchen, the 12 of us sitting around a long table as I marvelled at the web of Malay and English conversations, smiles and anecdotes, brown skins and pink, Chinese, Malay, Philippino and Australian. The food on the menu was mostly Western- I enjoyed a Crispy Chicken salad liberally seasoned with chilli sauce, a coffee ice blended (in Australia we'd call it a frappe), a piece of chocolate cheesecake and a real cappuccino. 

Cappuccino ice blended. Mmmm.

My very spicy Crispy Chicken Salad

Eating at Secret Kitchen last night. Lorena is sitting on the end on the left and Harry to my right.

Harry wasn't impressed with the size of his meal, and for a main course, it was particularly small. Mains in Malaysia are more often very generously proportioned.

A sweet tooth didn't stand a chance with the chocolate cheesecake.

Secret Recipe is a modern, clean store, and has the prices to match (though I'm in no position to complain on this occasion, as Harry was shouting. My meal with the two drinks would have cost over 30 Ringgits- around $10 Australian. For the Australian reader, I will take the opportunity in today's blog to make some other price comparisons as I continue to gloat about the glorious food in Kampar and Ipoh.

The previous night, the Inventor and I dined at the Thai restaurant not far from our place, Restaurant 1 Kampar. This is the second time we have eaten there, and we remain impressed at the quality and value. The only problem on Monday night was that the owner thought we wanted a pineapple rice each. Oh, my gracious! This meal was 27 Ringgits ($8) for both of us.

Another restaurant near to us is Mr Fat. It took us some weeks to get up the courage to go there, finding the name somewhat off-putting. The food was good, however, and I was intrigued by the jar-shaped mug that held the inventor's drink.

The ice blended drinks come in many different varieties, the basis of which is generally lots of finely blended ice and a flavoured syrup. Other things can then be added, such as pearls, jellies, beans, etc. I am particularly fond of them, as I am the Malaysian ice desserts which are a similar thing in a bowl with fruit. Chinese tea and lemon tea are nearly always available, and often restaurants will have a range of delicious freshly-sqeezed juices.

The resaurant we went to in our first week here for Daniel's 4th birthday was also a Fatt one. Fatt seems to be quite a common name around here, and we found this restaurant's name, Soon Fatt, somewhat amusing for a restaurant. All the people at the party were people from the Lutheran Church we have been attending, and they were all such lovely people. You can see Daniel and his Mum Swee Yee cutting the cake, and Daniel's father Desmond is beside her. Both Swee Yee and Desmond studied in Melbourne, and they have been amazingly friendly and welcoming.

Eating at proper restaurants is probably a lot safer, as the food is generally piping hot, and in most cases is prepared at the time for you. Maybe we wouldn't have had diarrhea for the last week if we were more careful, however I tend to be a little philosophical and figure we'll develop resistance to the most common bacterial infections soon enough. There are a lot of cheaper stalls and more ad-hoc restaurants where the food can be very nice but is usually cooked beforehand, and often not very warm. The meal here- 1.80 for the drink, and 4 Ringgits for the soup and plate of food. Total, less than $2. The other price I paid was being stared at by a number of the other patrons and workers, tiring of their fascination only as I neared the end of my meal. I doubt they mean to be rude, and assume it's that some people wonder why a Western woman would be in a little country town like Kampar on her own. I'm certaily not accustomed to the inordinate amount of attention that I seem to warrant!
 
We have been wanting to experience Yum Cha in Ipoh. It is known to have a number of excellent Dim Sum restaurants, and we were not disappointed when we tried this one last Sunday morning before church. We have been given the name of another "must try" by Harry, who says, "be prepared to wait for a table". We will probably make this a fairly regular before-church event, though it was a challenge to then go out for lunch as well, with Desmond, Swee Yee and the Khongs. The Dim Sum is served much earlier than in Australia, for breakfast, and is, of course, much cheaper- around 40 Ringgits- though next time we plan, at least at this stage, to not eat quite as much.

You might get the impression from this blog that the only thing we have eaten since we arrive in Kampar is Chinese food. While Chinese food is the most readily available, we have also partaken of some Indian food, some Malay and I am ashamed to admit, once also we stopped at a McDonalds drive-through. Although both Dominoes and Pizza Hut deliver, we have not yet availed ourselves of the service, nor have we eaten KFC, although it is close to our home, in the Tesco complex. Most of the Chinese restaurants are not Halal, but most of the others are, so the pizzas are made with beef pepperoni and other beef-based meats instead of bacon. I am interested to see how the taste compares. Chicken and beef are the most common substitutes for pork. While on the subject of Halal, everything on the shelves in Tesco is Halal, and there is one small deli/ butcher area to the side where a small range of pork products can be bought. I would like to cook some sweet things to send to the lab for everyone to share, but am unsure if they will be eaten by the lab assistants who are all Moslem. Some of the stricter Moslems apparently will not eat food if they suspect it might have come in contact with implements that have been used for non-Halal food, or even prepared in a house where non-Halal food is consumed.

 One afternoon, I felt like a snack, and sometimes it's the old favourites that go down comfortably with  a gin and tonic. Jacobs' crackers, cheeze, brazil nuts and kiwi fruit was just perfect. Talking of alcohol, we are just slowly working on the one litre each of duty free that we brought in (the maximum allowed). Alcoholic drinks are quite expensive, especially the wines, which of course are all imported. The cheapest wines are 45 Ringgits ($14), so I'm hoping this just means they only import the better quality wines.

 

The staff seem to find time to do these nice things and get all their testing and analysing done as well. This is Mimi offering me a cake.

Lemang is a rice dish traditionally eaten during Hari Raya, the end of Ramadan. It is cooked inside a bamboo piece. We also bought a sticky coconut rice dish (in the takeaway container) which was sweet enough to even satisfy my palate.

To welcome Lorena to the lab, the staff had cooked up a storm. Rosli's wife made these little cakes, and each one was decorated differently. They were so pretty and imaginative, I felt a pang of jealousy!

Some of our most interesting meals, I have failed to record anything but sweet memories. One of the other lab staff, Ismael, invited us to his niece's engagement party, and we enjoyed a vast spread of Malay food which we ate with our hands. On our first night in Kampar, we enjoyed a traditional Kampar meal, a chicken curry served inside a bread shell made from a sweet croissant-like pastry. It was glazed with sugar, and the Inventor amusedly related the story of a repeat visit for lunch with the accountant and Harry. Poor Harry, who speaks numerous dialects of Chinese, had no difficulty explaining that he'd like it without the sweet, sticky glaze, only to have it served exactly the same way. I suspect they are already prepared that way. Another enjoyable Kampar eating event is "Clay Pot Chicken", a rice dish with chicken cooked in a clay pot over open coals. It is served in the pot, and it was on this occasion, eating again with Harry, that we realised most restaurants serve vegetables although they might not advertise it or have it on a menu. This has been a very helpful lesson and we have since enjoyed many delicious green vegetable and mixed vegetable dishes. Grand Kampar Hotel is not known for amazing restaurants, but we really enjoyed the steam boat we had there, and I regret not taking a photo of the amazing array of assorted goodies we were served to put in it. Another particularly notable meal was eaten in Ipoh last Friday night. Harry had asked if we had anything planned for dinner, which of course we hadn't, so we hopped in his car and drove. The Inventor and I had no idea he was taking us to Ipoh, until one of us enquired after some time. Harry doesn't believe in GPS units, perhaps because there are no useful maps of Malaysia (we wasted space in our luggage for our impotent Navman), but he claims to prefer using his sense of direction. His sense of direction and memory did indeed get us to the restaurant eventually, though when he later referred me to the same neighbourhood, I had to admit that the circuitous route we had taken hadn't done much to cement the path in my memory. The meal, however, was memorable. We ate at a table on the edge of the road, and this time it was our shout, so I know the food component was around $13 Australian for the three of us. Ipoh is famous for its bean sprouts (Mung Bean Sprouts, though they are not known as that here), and while the Inventor and I fail to really see how the Ipoh water might make them taste better, we did admit that they tasted particularly good. We were inclined to credit the success of the dish to the sesame-flavoured sauce. They were served with rice and another signature Ipoh dish, which was described to us by our faithful translator Harry as "steamed chicken", but it was so much more than steamed chicken! Tender, lean and delicious, we would return for this dish often if it didn't take at least 30 minutes to get to Ipoh.

We continue to experiment, try different restaurants and find the food we enjoy, and sometime soon we might also use our gas burners to prepare a main meal at our place. The food is a big part of the adventure, and hopefully we will find a happy routine that might even allow us to lose some weight, as we get more settled.

Adjustments

Moving always involves adjustments. Our life journey has taken a change of destination, an entirely new route and a vehicle with few familiar components. Part of the challenge is that the vehicle was moving when we landed on it, and we have to work out how it operates to keep it moving. We are grateful for the help Harry gives us each week when he comes up here for his work, and also thankful for the British influence that means many things are done in a similar way to in Australia. The other thing that has made our lives easier is the willingness and capacity of the general population to try to communicate in English.

The move has, however, necessitated many adjustments on our part, some major and some relatively minor. Some of the relatively minor changes can make quite an impact on one's life, too, like not finding a suitable alternative to the fresh skim milk that was a large part of our diets in Australia. Our once-indulgent devouring of over a litre a day has dwindled to around a litre a week, and we have for now made a change from the strange-tasting fresh skim milk that Tesco stock, to experimenting with powdered skim. The inventor attempted to use a powdered “creamer” at the lab, but after this failed experiment will now try evaporated milk and sweetened condensed milk. Obviously, this is just one of the many, many ways our diet has changed. If one was to look in the lovely new kitchen unit that Harry helped us to buy on Thursday, one may jump to the conclusion that a lot of western foods are available at Tesco. It is merely that I have a good selection of them in my home. The grocery haul pictured here from last week, is a clear illustration that while we think we are eating local food , we still have a penchant for what we know and are familiar with.

Despite the seeming abundance of Western snack foods, many of the foods which once were a weekly occupant of my shopping trolley are just not available. I suspect that many recipes will need some tweaking to replace ingredients that we cannot find, either because they are not available, we don't know where to get them, or we don't know what they are called. Travelling experience helps. When we were in France in 2004 I became mildly panicky when I couldn't buy self-raising flour. Last week in Tesco, I effortlessly found the plain flour and baking powder. It helped that it was conveniently labelled in English. A few foods that were part of our everyday existence are still sorely missed- low-sugar soft drinks and cordials, nice bread, and bacon, come immediately to mind. The range, however, is not too bad, and I have readily found suitable non-food grocery items, the available range of cleaning products and toiletries being mostly Western-style. Shopping will become easier when we are familiar with what is available and the range of stores from which we can acquire it.

Although we now have a gas bottle, gas hotplates and a microwave, we have not yet cooked an evening meal at home. I doubt it surprises my readers, certainly not those who know me well, to discover that this adjustment was the easiest for us. It makes the cleaning and washing up much simpler, shopping quicker, and life less stressful. Friday night it was our turn to shout Harry to dinner, and he took us to Ipoh to a particular restaurant renowned for its bean sprouts and steamed chicken. Apart from being incredibly delicious, it was healthy and the food component was less than 40 Ringgats ($13) for the three of us. Of course, it's not necessary to drive to Ipoh to get this sort of value for a meal. Evening meals are most often Chinese food, but there is also good options for Indian and Malay, and sometimes also Thai, Japanese and Western-style. Kampar has a KFC, Pizza Hut, Dominoes and McDonalds, but the Inventor and haven't been to any of these yet. In fact, local Christians have called for a time of fasting until Malaysian National Day, and He claims to have given up Western food for the fast! Not much of a sacrifice.

It wasn't really the style I was looking for, but after some searching I actually found these in Tesco and decided I really like them. The photo doesn't show just how green they are, but they are quite interesting and fit the modern Asian theme that our home has adopted by default and necessity. Because they are sold loose, we could buy whatever pieces we wanted, hence the mixture of Asian and Western. Despite our claims of never eating at home, they get used quite a lot.

Town-house living is very different to the Australian surburban lifestyle we are used to. We have an empty townhouse on one side, and three of four scooter-riding Chinese youth who are studying at the university on the other. There are many vacant townhouses in our development, yet a new suburb appears to be sprouting from the empty block just near us. While our neighbours are in most part quiet, their front security door clattering sounds like our own, and often sounds they make outside give the illusion of being inside our house. The solid rendered wall means few sounds from inside their house disturb us, and I am hopeful that the same remains true in reverse, especially now we have a TV. I don't miss the gardening, but I do miss my verdant friends that peeped in every window at Smithfield and the buffer our own little space created. The high ceilings in our place mean a lot of stairs, and like so many things here, the treads are designed for little Asian feet, not the size 12 boats of an Australian inventor brought up on milk and thick steaks and ample servings of anything he required. Still, we ply the staircase numerous times each day. We have found a comfortable way to work the two kitchens now we have a kitchen unit inside. Snacks are prepared inside, cooking and washing up are done outside. The inconveniences of having a split kitchen don't bother me while I am doing so little food preparation.

The indoor kitchen with the lovely new unit that we (Harry, the Inventor and I) bought last Thursday. It is wonderful having a surface to put things on and cupboards to put things in.

The wet kitchen, with the breakfast burners (they mainly get used at breakfast) and less clutter on the benches now. There is chicken wire in the security screen you can see to keep out birds and cats, but unfortunately not in the side screens- yet.

We are adjusted in habit, but not yet attitude, when it comes to locking to doors. Every window has a security screen, and every door has a security screen door with both a key lock and padlock. At home or not, we keep the doors padlocked, a habit a long way removed from our tendency in Smithfield to leave everything open unless we went out. Our Australian home possessed little that would be of value to others, we had less than many of those around us, and we lived in a low-crime area. None of these is the case here, and we are painfully aware of our relative affluence and the need to be sensible in hiding and protecting it. The Isuzu four-wheel-drive utility that gets us around, while old, is also apparently the most stolen type of car in Malaysia, being a popular choice across the border in Thailand, only a few hours away. Hence, our vehicle has two safety measures, both of which we are still inclined to forget, despite having driven it for nearly three weeks. It won't start if it has been left unlocked, and has an immobilizer which must be deactivated before turning the key, which caused a few anxious moments in our first few days, as the engine chugged lifelessly. With time and experience, this happens less often. As Malaysian drivers take less heed of the road rules (which seem remarkable similar to Australia, including the side of the road driven on), we are learning to be alert. Nothing can be assumed, and while often common sense might seem absent, sometimes driving is easier and less regimented. For instance, in town where there are few traffic lights and traffic speed is lower, the flow is more like a choreographed free-form dance than a parade-ground marching display dictated by signs, lights and strict adherence to rules. The unfathomable chaos of Vietnamese roads doesn't exist, though I have heard that driving in KL is another story altogether.

I don't find it easy, but for now we will have to become accustomed to the hazy, depressing palate of grey that hangs over our heads and on the hills like a wraith. I am assured that as the seasons change, the smoke from Indonesia, or whatever other environmental abomination causes this smoggy blight, will clear. I am certainly looking forward to some bright, clear days.

We are still excited by this environment, new and different, with so many lessons to be learned. My appreciation of the interesting limestone mountains and rural environment, suitably replaces the admiration I never lost for the green mountains of the Atherton Tablelands that lean into Cairns and force her towards the sea. At times I miss the neat, orderly streets of Cairns and the organisation of a disciplined society. Discarded plastic and packaging decorate the grubby streets of Kampar, which themselves reflect the general attitude of disregard for appearances. New houses, and the occasional elderly one that receives care, stand up like conceited fashionistas amongst their emo neighbours who drape themselves in a black mould that eats at the cheap paint and rust that spoils the gates. Malaysia is a growing, interesting mix of East and West, new ways and old ways, and can be a perplexing enigma. Sometimes the lawlessness and chaos are frustrating, at other times we feel liberated from the constraints of a constipated and self-obsessed legislative, litigious school master, free at last to use common sense and a little nous. Sometimes I forget I am in Asia. Other times, as I drive past the huts of a village, or catch the air wafting from a sewer, the sights and smells spin me into another world. It's also easy to forget that friends who engage so readily in English conversation are not Australian. They do not live in Australia and their culture is more Chinese than Australian, and no matter how easily they discuss matters of modern life, they are Malaysian and their experiences, ways and thoughts are often very different to mine. Day by day though, this place is becoming home, and the things that we once considered exotic and unusual, are becoming part of our everyday life.

Discovering new places!

We miss our friends and family in Australia- the many familiar faces that passed through our lives each day, and the dear friends and family members with whom we could feel comfortable and cared for. Facebook, email and telephones have been fantastic and I am grateful that we can enjoy the closeness that they bring, at such a small cost. We know that the dear, amazing people in our life cannot be replaced, but worry that we will be left with a void that cannot be filled here. It has been nice to be greeted and welcomed so openly by so many people, and we hope that a few become those gems that we all treasure in our lives. The church we first attended three weeks ago, New Life Lutheran, has many friendly, lovely people and we enjoy the services, the preaching and the new friends that we meet. We have been back twice, and will probably make it our home church. It's just unfortunate that it is in Ipoh and takes us 30-45 minutes to get there, though the trip is fastest on a Sunday morning. The conversation with Harry is comfortable, and we enjoy having the odd meal with him when he is visiting up here from KL. Hopefully we will meet people in Kampar that we enjoy spending time with and life will settle into the usual busy productivity that I am used to. Until then, I will continue to appreciate the time I have to take life a bit slower and look after things while the Inventor gets on with what he does best.

My daughter has been asking what our bedroom looks like, and my sister has been asking how we can possibly manage a 40 inch TV in our bedroom, so here it is. The TV would be out of the left-hand side of the photo, had we owned it when the photo was taken. The ensuite is behind the bed.

Now you can see the senseless void at the foot of the bed that was crying out for a 40 inch LED TV, and I'm certain my sister will understand the necessity of the purchase.

Unfortunately we purchased the in-trays before the other things, and they don't match the lime green theme of the downstairs office, but bit by bit the house shapes into a home with things that we like and that serve our purposes.

Settling In a Little

How strange it is to stand inside the house and wave goodbye to the Inventor each morning. I have not yet become accustomed to NOT being the one who leaves in the car, nor to being at home all day, having copious amounts of time to clean, organise, run the household finances, and then partake of leisure activities. Leisure, in fact, has been somewhat of a rare commodity in our household for some time, and both of us are still reacquainting ourselves with this old friend. Once we become more settled, when our social lives become more involved, and when I start working or studying or doing whatever I am led to do, life will no doubt become more complicated.

Yesterday I didn't wave goodbye from behind the padlocked screen door. Yesterday, I drove the inventor to work and went in to have a look at his work environment. I sat and spent some time thinking about how I might organise him better. Then I hopped behind the wheel of the car with a long list of possible jobs to do, though it was the last day of the long, long weekend for Hari Raya and I was not sure which shops would be open. At the end of a tiring day I returned, and wiped, filed, labelled and moved until I could think of nothing more to do. The day is marked as successful, although none of the furniture shops were open, nor the post office. I did, however, order a pair of prescription glasses, discover that I can get my medications here, purchase a mountain of stationery supplies, find a number of stores and restaurants I did not know about, discover where to buy hair colour and mousse, and top up some groceries. As each day passes, we become more comfortable in our new environment, and Kampar assumes the happy familiarity that one expects from that place called “home”.

Yesterday is also known as the day I first met another Westerner in Kampar. Not just one, but five in fact, and it may have been more if their other five children had been with them. The Canadian couple and their seven children live in Kampar, and his mother had just arrived for a visit. I stopped to talk to the father, and each of us was surprised that the other was not teaching at the university. They are, in fact, exporters of Thai goods. Generally around town, our skin colour, hair colour, eye colour and accent make us feel a little like the only black sheep in a white flock, a feeling of alienation that is not helped at all by the small local children who stare, unsmiling. The older children look sideways at us with interest, and will usually smile or speak small amounts when prompted, but it still remains that shopping trips are made pleasant by the spontaneous, genuine smiles I receive from adults, mostly from the Moslem ladies, but also many others. The shops have been busy all day and well into every night, as families enjoy the week of school holidays, the end of Ramadan and the four-day weekend, and the normally quiet games arcade by Tesco pulses with noisy excitement.

The Inventor took the opportunity to use the lab unimpeded yesterday. Although the plant continued huffing, puffing and clattering all weekend, in the lab, staff have taken turns to come in for short stints to complete only the necessary tasks over the celebration weekend, and yesterday, none appeared. The inventor has failed in his two weeks here to grasp the intricacies of lab staffing and operation, but then he is not really a part of the lab, he is using the lab. His status at the lab is a grey area, though we noted with interest his position at the top of the white board and his exclusive use of what would be the closest thing to a corner office in this building.

The four lab staff are all Malays, and therefore Moslem, and with their varying grasp of English have all been pleasant and made him feel welcome. Mimi speaks the best English, and was the one who met us and showed us around when we first arrived. She is a little reserved but seems to have a good idea of what goes on in the lab. Ismail is outgoing and enthusiastic, and tries very hard to tell the Inventor all manner of things, which sometimes means a little drive around half the state of Perak. Despite his limited command of English, he has probably been the source of the most information. Rozli is difficult to fathom. He is quiet even amongst other Malays, and we suspect he is a little shy, though his English is better than he would have us believe! The fourth lab assistant is Liza, who I met today for the first time. Alert and attractive, she followed our English conversation attentively and on most occasions was able to answer our barrage of questions, despite her claimed poor English. The four seem to get on very well, friends as well as work colleagues, and have grown up in the area. They are rostered on at various times from morning till late in the evening, to test the finished product from the plant before it is shipped. Lorena, the new lab manager from the Philippines will not arrive for another week. When she does, it is likely that many things will change as she institutes new procedures and introduces a management structure that has not existed before.

The lab itself has numerous small rooms, each dedicated to a particular process or piece of equipment, and if we were to admit that in Cairns the Inventor was starved for space, here he is spoilt in terms of space, equipment and resources. The building itself is as one would expect in this area, that is, shabby and a bit grotty, but sturdy and functional. The fine dust that settles on everything tickles my nose a little. I have only applied for the one job so far, but am content at this stage to be providing “home support”, organising the house and our belongings and finding some rhythm in our daily existence, and “work support”, helping the Inventor with some of the more mundane tasks of creating brilliance, like filing, organising jobs and the workplace, and keeping legible notes. In the future, I will probably desire something more. The ongoing lacklustre performance of our bodies which are obviously still fighting invaders, combined with the strains of moving to a new country, have left us tired and uncharacteristically lethargic. Both of us hope one day to wake up early feeling refreshed and energetic and ready to tackle the future with the vigour it deserves.

Today's blog finishes with some Kampar scenery, some outdoor beauty to add to the last blog's architectural horrors.

View from waterfalls we climbed up to, just near the lab.

Limestone cliffs.

My favourite market location, stalls tucked under craggy limestone formations between Kampar and Gopeng.

A path in cool rainforest, waterfalls and a favourite swimming spot with locals, this place reminds us of Crystal Cascades (though the pools are disappointingly shallow)

We have found somewhere to walk that rivals the Red Arrow!

It was lovely to get outdoors again, but with the unpredictable and plentiful rain, we will probably be relying on the WiiFit for regular exercise, once we get a TV to plug it into.

Salamat datang ke Kampar

We feel that a life-threatening lack of creativity may be required by a developer to throw up a large number of townhouses in a short space of time. Our entire neighbourhood of around 14 streets, imaginatively named one to fourteen, is constructed of similar townhouses with very minor variations. The one relief from the monotony is gained by the occasional house painted a different colour by its owner, or a set of ostentatious chromed gates.

The street-fronts of the townhouses may be unimaginative and repetitious, but the lane where the back of our townhouse faces the back of the next row is a picture of neglect and disinterest. A generous roadway with rare traffic of any sort, it does nothing more than give residents more distance from their rear neighbours than from those on either side. The litter lining all the streets may be the result of the high number of unoccupied houses, but I feel it has more to do with the fact that the majority of residents here are students from the nearby university.

Water buffaloes wander around the nighbourhood, at night venturing onto the roads. The juxtaposition of the modern Tesco supermarket near our home and buffalo droppings on the road is actually a beautiful metaphor for Malaysia 2012, a developing nation right in the midst of a modern revolution, and thriving in it.

The drive to the lab meanders through less populated green areas, and on the drive, the entire range of accommodations can be observed, from large, rendered homes to ramshackle humpies of various scrap materials held together with hope. The majority are modest little homes of high-set timber or low-set rendered block, all but the newest being a little shabby, the sole aim of gardening seeming to be to keep the jungle at a distance.

Even relatively minor roads like this are quite well signposted, and the roads are often painted adequately too. I have found the traffic surprisingly easy to negotiate, though inattention is not advised.

Each day he passes under this disused conveyor, then through the ever-present mud created by the trucks that have replaced the conveyor, bringing materials down the hill to this plant.

The final part of the journey is bouncing along the potted driveway to the plant itself. The strange, jungle-clad mountains close in around you as you delve deeper into the valley.

The centre of Kampar town, or "Old Kampar", dates from the first half of the 20th century. The two-lane main road continues on to major towns in both directions, and used to be the main north-south higway to KL before the nearby modern toll road was built. Now, the information-age traveller can drive to KL in two hours for around 24 Ringgats ($7).

The shabby shop-fronts in the main shopping street of Old Kampar would have once sparkled with the wealth of a thriving tin-mining district, when the many ponds that surround Kampar were tin-mining pits not full of water, fish and ducks, but of industrious miners bringing the riches of the Earth to the surface. The newer areas of town are cleaner and better cared-for, particularly around the south gate of the university, which throngs with students at all hours.

Bicycles and motorbikes remain a popular form of transport in Malaysia, and their riders show their faith in the protection provided them by Allah by flouting every road rule and all common sense. High taxes on imported cars make them a luxury item that cannot be afforded by many, though there are many, many Malaysians that do own cars. At the plant, one or two of the workers arrive in old, battered cars, however the majority park their motorbikes by the front gates. The inventor and myself do not park outside, but enjoy the particular status of the few who have the gates opened for us by a gate-man in a crisp, white uniform shirt, to drive onto the premises.

Most of the Moslem women, while honouring the traditional headdress and keeping all their hair covered, wear some variation of modern clothing. The headwear itself is a fashion item to which entire stalls are devoted, and can be bought in an endless range of colours and patterns. Today is Hari Raya, and the Moslem population have celebrated in style. For once, the men are nearly all dressed in traditional clothing, shimmering in a glorious palate of silk and rayon, fluttering from their motorbikes as they zip from open house to open house. Every here and there, cars are wait in lines, abandoned outside a home whose turn it is to have "open house", while its owners celebrate inside. The cemetery, too, enjoys unprecendented attention, and this morning we watched at immaculate families in traditional dress and hats excitedly piled into mosque. For the second evening in a row, the night sky is silent only between bursts of popping and cracking as small displays of fire crackers light up the sky all over the town. Monday will be a public holiday for this important Moslem celebration, then life will return to relative normality, as once again the Moslem population can eat during daylight. The kettle and coffee cups, the inventor hopes, will return to the lab, and he hopes he can enjoy a lunchtime meal or cup of coffee with the four Islamic lab workers now. Food no longer needs to be politely hidden, and the Malay restaurants will be open for lunch. Work hours will also change, as special considerations to go home and break fast will not be needed, and the canteen at the plant will re-open.

The sign says, "Welcome to Kampar", and you are indeed welcome. It is a friendly town, and our friends and family are always welcome for visits. Salamat datang ke Kampar!

Shopping Old-town style

On Thursday I undertook a shopping trip into old Kampar town. When travelling as a tourist, these experiences can be stressful, but today, with time on my side and with a view to learning, I approached the shopping with an open mind.

My first visit was a quick, successful foray into the world of the Chinese Hardware. I had deduced that it might be a hardware store by the Dulux logo pained on the building, but as I entered the store, wondered if I had been mistaken.

The shelves along the three walls of the store appeared to be stuffed with empty boxes and bags of rubbish, which I surmised were the remains of stock accumulated over years and decades. After some consideration, I determined that the floor was an uneven, pitted concrete, so dirty that I'd initially mistaken it for compressed soil. To my right, a long glass cabinet stretched to the back of the store, where an elfish Chinese grandfather sat. He didn't look up from his Chinese newspaper as I entered, and as I approached, it was obvious he spoke no English.

“Plug,” he repeated, looking bewildered. The tiny man rose slowly and shuffled along behind the glass counter. “Plug.” I followed doubtfully.

“There,” I cried in delight seconds later, as my eyes picked out a stainless steel drain from the jumble of bags and seemingly unsorted parts crammed into the cabinet. “Plug,” I said, pointing and gesturing.

“Ah.” He nodded, though without, I noted, that spark of recognition I had been hoping for. Once again I followed as he shuffled to the front of the store, and pointed as I shouted with relief.

“Plug!”

The ancient man mumbled to himself, or to me, as he withdrew the bundle of plugs and chains which seemed united as a single unit. He plucked pointlessly at the tangle of chains.

“Here,” I cried, drawing a lone, chainless plug from inside the cabinet. “This one is good,” and I watched with amusement as he shoved the tangled bundle back from whence they had been taken.

“One fifty.” This time the words were clear, and I resisted the urge to clarify. I fiddled in my purse for two one-Ringgat notes, still wondering if he could possibly have meant one fifty. Surely a plug would be more than 45 cents?

“Thank you.” I pocketed my change, nodded and left the store, suppressing a giggle as the diminutive man slowly weaved his way back through the dusty clutter to his chair and newspaper.

The next visit was in stark contrast to my first in every respect. The quiet old man at the back of the hardware store was replaced by a loud, pushy young man at the electrical store. The short, successful purchase was followed by a very long, drawn-out, and eventually unsuccessful one. I wandered into the electrical store to look at a few items, but mainly to compare the price on the Samsung 40 inch LED TV we were thinking of purchasing. Now, I could relate this story step-by-step as I did the last, but this would be sure to crash the blogspot server. Over the course of an hour, he flitted between me and the steady stream of customers that entered he store. We agreed on a price, he changed the price, he offered me another model, we dropped the price, he took my credit card, he phoned about my credit card, he wouldn't return my card. I was uncertain whether to be amused or irritated, but I derived considerable entertainment from the way he swapped mid-sentence between Chinese and English without seeming to realise he had done so. Eventually I had retrieved my card and as I put the key in the ignition of the Isuzu, he offered me my best price yet, 1500 Ringgats, down more than 400 Ringgats (over $100) from the starting point. This was not the end of negotiations. Throughout the day he rang my mobile number numerous times, and by 6pm we had decided to accept his offer of 1400 Ringgats. Back we drove to his store, only to discover it closed. The following morning we returned with credit card in hand, but to our bewilderment, he had changed his mind on taking the credit card and happily let us leave with the promise of a return with cash next week.

Our house is now finally equipped with a plug, but the fitting itself gradually leaks all the water from the sink anyway, and we have no TV, no Wii games, and no Wii fit. None of this matters much, as we are still sampling the vast array and variety of restaurants around Kampar for most meals. We have little time for cooking or TV, though Harry took us shopping on Thursday night and we now have a microwave and a two-burner gas cooktop. The ever-patient man stood around as we deliberated each choice, cheerful as always, waiting with ever-reddening eyes. Despite the late hour the store was crowded, and after carrying the goods to the front of the store and waiting at the checkout, we were told that we would have to return to the electrical department to have the items checked. It was only then that I thought Harry's saintly composure might fall apart, but he rallied for a last effort and remained cheerful and polite till we dropped him back to his car. So now we have the option to cook. We might do that, one day.

A much aniticpated arrival

The Inventor's handphone (that's what we call mobiles now) rang just as we sat down to lunch- a dubious concoction of Tesco BBQ chicken and bread rolls that were so sweet, in Australia they'd be labelled “buns”. It was Harry. The relief was palpable- he had arrived at the lab in Kuala Dipang with a computer sent from the office in KL. We were also desperately hoping, though not brash enough to ask, if he had brought some cash as requested from the gentleman accountant. I am uncertain whether it is the Inventor's relaxed demeanour or his hesitance to offend, but he seems incapable of carrying urgency in any request. Even his demands for overdue rent are perceived as polite requests to be ignored, so I was unsure what result an actual polite request for cash reimbursement might bring. A little cash goes a long way in Malaysia, but when we noticed supplies dwindling, we had taken our cards to the ATM to retrieve some more. To my initial dismay, then annoyance, and finally horror, we discovered that neither of the two cards that we used to withdraw cash on our last overseas trip were working. After some confusion, phone calls and disconnections, we discovered that NAB had chosen to cancel our Visa debit card, and until the replacement card arrives, we must continue as we have, with a small but now replenished bundle of cash supplementing a busy Visa credit card. It's not an easy way of life in a largely cash society.

We pray that the arrival of the working, albeit old, computer will at least herald some consistency in the Inventor's workplace, a reliable constant that will boost the workflow from the current trickle to a steady stream of work and achievements. Hopefully his days will no longer be punctuated with setting up our personal netbook, borrowing equipment and jumping between tasks as equipment allows. For me, it means I will have my little netbook back to use, instead of waiting till we get back from dinner, late into the evening. We are also hoping that Harry will find some time in his busy schedule to go to Telecom Malaysia with us and help to order our fixed telephone and internet line. Harry has been busy this week, visiting sites all over Malaysia, but I doubt anyone has anticipated his arrival as eagerly as we have.

I heard someone yelling in a townhouse nearby. They yelled in Chinese, and I felt alien. Yesterday I talked on the phone to my daughter for more than half an hour, and I realised how far we are from her. The monetary cost is little more than to visit her from Cairns, but it will take most of a day to drive to KL, catch a plane to the Gold Coast then get to Brisbane. Our son is even further away, and he is barely an adult. I am thankful to have independent and capable offspring, because we are relying so much on them to look after themselves while we devote the next few yeas to our new “baby”, this creation that started as a seed only last year, and now sprouts forth into a new and unknown existence. When I think about it, the distance to Australia seems huge,but by the miracle of modern telecommunication, her cheerful voice is clear and close. We are together. We both eagerly anticipate her visit, and we started to make plans, even though the big man's big 5-0 isn't until February.

In these early stages, the celebration already assumes the guise of something huge. My 48^th, my father's 80^th and the Inventor's half-century all fall on the Chinese New Year long weekend. It calls for a big celebration, and hopefully as the Year of the Dragon draws to a close, we will have business achievements to applaud as well.

As far as the Inventor's creation goes, we are confident. It is a little disconcerting, however, that D talks of “when”, not “if”, and his timelines are frightening. He likes to talk, and he likes to talk big- his business is big, his finances are big, and his ideas are big. When I listen to him talk, I see a man for whom a brick wall is merely the opportunity to bring in a bigger truck. He would know, of course, from his many successful years in business, that science is plasticine and timelines are elastic. He is an astute and worldly man, and what he really expects, I can only wonder, but I feel a sense of obligation to him to achieve something big.

So far, everything has been new and exciting, and we've been quite happy and contented with all that has come our way. I know this will not last. Soon, this will cease to be an adventure and will transform into our everyday existence. The differences that we relish today may well become the frustrations of tomorrow. The honeymoon phase cannot last, so what then follows? I hope and pray that whatever does follow, hits gently and treats us kindly.

We are already being tested with some of the frustrations that will probably be part and parcel of living in Malaysia. Having no access to cash has been the first. Had we planned a little better (or had we planned at all), we might have avoided this, but in the rush of leaving Australia we failed to check a few important details. Money juggling will continue until we can open an account here. The company were organised at the outset with the ordering of equipment, but language difficulties and cultural differences have made it a long and arduous process to get the right equipment in. Everyday life is a challenge, too. Every little thing that is done differently, we have to comprehend. How does one get garbage collected? Where do we buy a plug for the sink? What is the etiquette for using mobile phones? Do you use English or Malay for speaking to Indians? Chinese? How do you apply for a Tesco card? How do you set up a kitchen and where do you buy the cabinets? I am grateful that I am not working for now, as it has given us breathing space to get settled into this new and wonderful place. We have landed in the next phase of life, now we work to make sense from the turmoil.

The Aussies continue to blunder about

When you move to a new place, there are always surprises. Sometimes they are good surprises (like discovering how friendly and polite Malaysians are), and sometimes they are not so pleasant (like discovering that we can't open a Malaysian bank account until the new company is fully registered). From the rooftop carpark of the Aeon shopping complex in Ipoh, this afternoon we were awarded a most delightful surprise. I have mentioned that the hills around Ipoh are most bizarre and wonderful creations, but preparing for the infinitely mundane experience of shopping, followed by the infinitely frustrating experience of finding a carpark in a busy shopping centre in the busiest time of the year, the last thing one expects when stepping out of the car is an unfolding scene of extraordinary beauty. We were in the middle of the city, but none of the ugliness man has created around could detract from the majestic splendour of the limestone crags that clutch at the edges of the urban mess. The majesty is, unfortunately, spoiled by the lack of clarity. Every day since we arrived, the air has been heavy and grey with a smog-like haze, apparently a hallmark of the season. No-one seems to really know where it comes from or why it's there- they just accept that it is. When the rains come or the wind changes, it will clear.

After leaving our hazy rooftop vista, we dived into the frenzy below. Three hours and 450 Ringgats (ca $140) later, we emerged with ironing board, rice cooker, table cloth, cutlery, chopsticks, glasses, mugs, storage boxes, picture hooks, toilet seat, flip-top bin, and more of the little things that hep to make a house a home.

In Australia, my reader may not be aware that it is currently Ramadan, but for the whole population of Malaysia, this is an important time of the year. For the Moslems, this means fasting from sun-up to sun-down. For those of us who are not, it means sensitivity to this fact, and avoiding the restaurants when the hungry hordes are likely to descend. Today we just made it out of the restaurant in time, as the line started to pour in and occupy tables in faithful anticipation. The young couple at the table beside us sat there from 6.45, but their time to eat would not be until 7.32. Not even a glance was cast toward the two plump dates that waited beside each setting for their time of reckoning. Ramadan is a time of discipline and excitement, and everyone eagerly awaits the culmination of this month of devoted ritual, Hari Raya. Then they will once again be free to eat as they please, and they will celebrate with feasting. We are excited to have been invited to the home of Mimi, who works in the lab, to join her family in the celebration. In honour of Hari Raya, this weekend we will receive an extra day off, one of the many enjoyed by Malaysians throughout the year.

This Islamic adventure will be in stark contrast to today's Sunday expedition to Ipoh, in search of a church. Using the big man's phone and navigation software, and with less than a handful of wrong turns, we found the church. We had located New Life Lutheran Church on the internet, and it proved familiar and welcoming. Chinese English-speakers comprised nearly the entire congregation of this special English-language service, and we were embraced enthusiastically. After the service we enjoyed easy conversation with a smaller group, who invited us to lunch, drove us to the restaurant, then paid for our meal. Amongst the group was an American man (the first Caucasian I have seen since leaving KL), his Chinese wife and 2 children, who usually live in the USA, and a Chinese Malaysian couple who met while studying in Melbourne, and are thinking of returning to live in Australia. Desmond, SweeYee and their 3-year-old son Daniel drove us back to our car at the church, taking a scenic route to show us a little of the layout of Ipoh. How blessed we were to be received so openly.

The inventor created some anxiety in KL this week, when he made the mistake of asking how the kitchen should be fitted out. The accountant, the OM, and even D at the top, have rung to find out how they can help. “Don't do anything until I come on Thursday,” the OM has instructed. He will fix it all, apparently. No amount of reassurance has managed to settle the concern of three delightful Chinese Malaysian businessmen who are worried that their hospitality has been lacking. Simultaneously, we are worried that the three men at the top of a small business empire are worried about kitchen cabinets to put my Tupperware in! Hopefully, we can find a quick solution on Thursday, and I can help the OM in return by finding furniture for the new lab manager's house. We will also impose upon his time to accompany us to Telecom Malaysia to help us apply for a fixed phone and internet line, and I have no doubt that, like last week, he will do it all cheerfully and without fuss, despite having a long list of tasks to complete to keep the company running. It is a somewhat surreal experience buying sheets while the manager of a company hovers around waiting, credit card at the ready. This is a world of discovery for us- drivers waiting at the airport, hotel front-door pickups, lunching with businessmen who pay the bill. One day, I suppose, it will feel more natural, but as a pair of ordinary Aussies, we feel somewhat like fraudulent imposters.