Into the World:
The Random Thoughts in My Mind

Language acquisition is about immersion in an environment where people constantly use common vocabulary from that particular language...yet, being in Thailand for little more than a day, and your foreign male tourist literally manage to pick up one single word...not "goodbye," not "hello," and not even "thank you" (tried and failed on that one).  Instead, it is a word that even short-term foreign expats in Thailand manage to pop into their conversation...in English.  The keyword of the day was "farang," a term for Caucasians derived (supposedly) from Arabic transliteration of "Franks."

In a society where a Muslim demographic majority and an economically (and somewhat demographically) significant non-Muslim minority coexist, the celebration of Ramadan is, not surprisingly, social contentious beneath a veil of obvious social harmony and mutual cultural respect .  Religious doctrine dictate that the Muslim not eat and drink from sunrise to sunset while toiling under the brutal hot weather of tropical Malaysia and going about their daily tasks of schooling and employment without any adjustments attributed to the fasting.

And with the flames shooting out of the stadium, songs, and mass choreographed dances a little bit too reminiscent of what occurred in Beijing 2008 (albeit with a Western, kitschy rural British twist), that once-in-four-years spectacle begins once again in a city that some London residents ( including many of previous year’s LSE students ) have already left behind, while others painfully adjust to the suddenly inflated costs dished out by opportunistic shop and real estate owners.

The warehouse at the quiet, industrial part of the town started as, literally, an empty concrete shell, with no furniture, no goods, no ventilation, and no sign of life.  Truckloads of item and upholstery shipments later, combined with more than 12 hours of continuous work by more than a dozen cheaply hired foreign moving men, the new warehouse is finally looking like a warehouse, with the shelving racks, desks, and chairs arranged in their proper positions, and shifted items ready for unpacking.

The prominent-looking bar/club on a busy side-street of Bukit Bintang, the premier inner-city shopping district in Kuala Lumpur, has a colorful sign perched on top of it, looming large over the skyline of the narrow street crammed with hawker stands and attracting attention from all passersby.  The sign prominently features young East Asian songstresses clad in miniskirt, skimpy tank-top uniforms, making the usual suggestive poses, in a way largely ( or perhaps not at all ) inappropriate for the conservative culture of this Muslim country.

A quick 30-minute stroll through any residential neighborhood in Singapore can make one understand why so many foreigners love the tiny island city-state. Food is everywhere and cheap (just like here in Malaysia), the public transit system modern and all-around impeccable, the streets well-manicured and completely free of litter, and there is just no sign of poverty whatsoever (no beggars, no run-down shantytowns, not even a single truly dilapidated building). As modern as Malaysia sometimes seems to be, the level of physical modernity is absolutely shocking in comparison.