From Foreign Policy Magazine
Monday, September 28, 2009
Back from Laos, working on entry
I got back to Penang on Saturday night after a 13 hour day of traveling. I've been paging through my notes and looking through my pictures I took in Laos as I write my entry for that experience. That post should be up within the next few days. Until then enjoy the picture below and reading this, this, and this.
From Foreign Policy Magazine
From Foreign Policy Magazine
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Off to Laos
Tomorrow I’ll be leaving to Kuala Lumpur en route to Vientiane, Laos. I have this next week off since this week is the celebration of Hari Raya, the ending of Ramadan. Today, Sunday, I went with my friend Yosuke and his family visiting from Japan to join my friend Qyla and her family’s celebration of Hari Raya. I am convinced you have not lived until you eat Malaysian food at a Hari Raya celebration. It was a great experience and I’ll be sure to post pictures and write about it another time.So, Laos. About three weeks ago I had no idea what I was going to do for this week break. I was paging through my Lonely Planet Book for Unimaginative Broke Students, and started reading about Laos. Granted, it is kind of lame that the book inspired me to go to Laos, but it wasn’t exactly the book that sold me.
In a city called Luang Prabang, there is a non-profit called Big Brother Mouse that publishes and distributes books throughout the country. I wanted to know more so I did some research on the Internet.
Laos is a landlocked, communist country of about 6.8 million people. Of these 6.8 million people 40%, or about 2.72 million, are under the age of 14. Compared with the US about 20% of people are under 14 and in Malaysia 31.4%. Think about this, if 40% of the US was under 14 years old, that would be around 122.8 million people. That would be the rough equivalent of the population of California, Texas, New York, Florida and Illinois, the five most populated states respectively, all combined.
By looking at the numbers, Laos keeps up with the US remarkably well in the percentage of children who are enrolled in primary school. 92% of American children and 86% of Laotian children are enrolled in primary school. The drop off in percentage of children in secondary school is significant. While 88% of American children are enrolled in secondary school, only 36% of Laotian children are enrolled. I think it is fair to say that Laotian children face drastically different circumstances than American children when choosing whether to continue on to secondary or not. Also, a fault in this is that I’m not sure how accessible secondary education is, but I’ll address that again in a moment.
While the thought of all those children in Laos not going to high school is a bit depressing, there are signs of hope. Since 1999 there has been a 10% increase in the amount of children who do attend secondary school up from 26%. Also, interestingly enough the literacy rate amongst children is higher than it is among adults at 63.2% and 83.9% respectively. It does seem that there is an effort to increase literacy amongst the population and what better place to start with youth. With such a significant amount of young people in the country, Laos finds itself in a precarious position if it fails to educate a more substantial amount of its youth or face essentially intellectually starving itself.
With that said, I’m going to Laos to do my part to help out literacy in Laos. Big Brother Mouse has English tutoring sessions every morning at its office in Luang Prabang. I’ll be in Luang Prabang for two nights and I’ll go and see what I can do in the morning. I’m hoping I can learn more about Big Brother Mouse’s cause and other non-profits working in poorer countries to improve literacy rates. I am really hoping it is an operation that I can recommend others to support.
Aside from that, I hope to enjoy some French cuisine, see some Buddhist temples, do some writing, relax, and enjoy Lao culture/society.
Ian
Sources:
CIA Factbook
UNESCO Institute for Statistics
Saturday, September 19, 2009
The Indian Barbershop Experience
About a month ago I got a haircut. I really had no idea where to go so I just went to the one that was connected to my favorite restaurant. That’s how it works in Malaysia. You find your favorite restaurant and then go from there with finding things to satisfy your needs. So I cruised on over to Bali Bali, the restaurant, and went into the barbershop conveniently located next to the seafood stall. I walked in from the hot, humid Malaysian air into the frigid box that was the barbershop. There sat four guys all fidgeting with their cell phones. About two inches of black hair covered the entire surface of the floor. Makeshift paths to the barber chairs had been carved out with a broom. I said “Selamat petang,” in that enthusiastic, dumbass sounding, everyone-loves-an-experience-in-a-foreign-country kind of tone. The four, presumed, barbers all looked at one another puzzlingly. A guy in the corner shrugged, let out a sigh, and pointed to a chair across from him. So much for high scores on Snake. I had printed out a picture a picture of George Clooney sporting the haircut I desired. I showed it to the barber and he gave me one of those “yeah boss” nods. He put the barber sheet on me and went to work. He went for the razor. It was sitting on the counter in front of the mirror with piles of hair around it. He picked it up, blew on it a few times, and proceeded to dispatch swathes of my hair. Meanwhile, another customer had come in and was getting a shave next to me. The barber wasn’t using any sort of lubricant. Every once in a while the guy getting a shave would abruptly inhale through his teeth, like the sound of opening a bottle of Coke in reverse. I hadn’t shaved in a few days and was looking a little Cast Away-ey, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to get a shave here if that’s what it entailed. My barber moved onto cutting with shears, once again retrieved from the counter and given a hardly blow to cleanse it. In retrospect, if I didn’t pick up swine flu there I probably never will. At one point the barber’s cell phone rang. “ALL THE SINGLE LADIES (all the single ladies) ALL THE SINGLE LADIES (all the single ladies).” It was as if Hitler was calling the way his upper lip snarled and looked at the little caller ID window in utter disdain. He put the phone on silent and kept on cutting.
Unfortunately, I didn’t look like George Clooney after the haircut. However, I did have a strikingly similar haircut. Few words were exchanged throughout the entire process. When he was finished, he swept off my face, neck, and shoulders with a brush that even my own mother would refuse to kiss me if she saw it. It was done. I stood up reaching into my pocket for my wallet. “Eight ringgit,” he said. For reference, RM 8 is about $2.30. I tried giving him RM 13, you know, a RM 5 tip for gratitude of his services. He took the money, counted it, and then handed me back the five ringgit note. “No, no, no you keep, it’s for you,” I said. He looked at me in this Snake Pliskin kind of way that said, “What do you think this is? This is Malaysia mother#$@%er.”
I think I’m due back for a cut in two weeks or so.
ian
Unfortunately, I didn’t look like George Clooney after the haircut. However, I did have a strikingly similar haircut. Few words were exchanged throughout the entire process. When he was finished, he swept off my face, neck, and shoulders with a brush that even my own mother would refuse to kiss me if she saw it. It was done. I stood up reaching into my pocket for my wallet. “Eight ringgit,” he said. For reference, RM 8 is about $2.30. I tried giving him RM 13, you know, a RM 5 tip for gratitude of his services. He took the money, counted it, and then handed me back the five ringgit note. “No, no, no you keep, it’s for you,” I said. He looked at me in this Snake Pliskin kind of way that said, “What do you think this is? This is Malaysia mother#$@%er.”
I think I’m due back for a cut in two weeks or so.
ian
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
My Trip to the Hospital in Malaysia, and Thoughts
I’ve been in Malaysia for a little over two months now and am quite, but pleasantly, surprised to say that one of areas I’ve learned the most about is healthcare. I learned first hand about the Malaysian healthcare system within the first two weeks of arriving. As some of you may know, I have a severe allergy to peanuts. I, unknowingly of course, ingested a food containing a substantial amount of peanuts. Within 10 seconds of swallowing the food I ate I knew there were peanuts in it. I had never gone into full-blown anaphylactic shock in my 21 years of being allergic to peanuts. I had never used an Epi-pen before. In past reactions, I had usually only eaten very small amounts of peanuts before and one dose of Benedryl and plenty of water had done the trick. Not this time around. As I gulped water hoping that this would be one of those times where everything would go back to normal within a few minutes, I felt my throat swelling up and my breath getting shallower and shallower. I had two options: inject myself with my Epipen and go to a hospital in Malaysia, or, well, I guess there was only one option because I sure as hell wasn’t going to risk dying here.
I had my friend, a fellow student named Xyn, drive me to the nearest hospital. I injected myself with an Epipen on the way there, and while it didn’t resemble Chev Chelios’ experience too closely, it certainly helped me avoid the worst of anaphylactic shock. We arrived at the hospital and went to the ER where they admitted me immediately. I had some very nice nurses check my vital signs and hook me up to a heart monitor machine. They thoroughly questioned me about how I was feeling and had me recount minute by minute what had happened since I ate the food containing peanuts 20 minutes earlier. I saw a doctor who asked me the same questions, asked me if I felt like I needed more epinephrine, and checked over my vital signs again. The doctor said I was doing just fine and quite frankly I felt just fine: quite relieved that I was going to be all right after probably one of the most serious allergic reactions I had ever experience.
The doctor said I was free to go and the nurses took me off the heart monitor. In total I was there for about an hour and always had someone tending to me. I left the ER and was directed to go to the payment counter. I had left my apartment in quite a hurry and hadn’t thought to bring a debit card or much cash. As I walked to the payment counter I started to fear a bill upwards of 600, 700, 1000 ringgit and realized I would probably have to ask Xyn to borrow some money.
I arrived at the payment counter…
Let us recount my hospital visit:
-Immediate admittance into the emergency room
-Staff of two nurses and one doctor tending to me for a period of one and one half hours
-Plenty of fancy medical machines measuring vital signs and stuff
… My bill was 30 ringgit: the equivalent of about USD 8.50.
I’m not even a citizen here and I’m able to go to the ER for under 10 bucks. I chuckled at the fact and thought to myself, “what a good deal!”
My trip to the ER faded to the back of my mind over the next days and weeks and I was occupied with exploring the new culture and country that Malaysia had to offer me.
I’m a bit of a news junkie so I’ve been staying up to date with all the happenings back stateside and around the rest of the globe. One issue at home that has no doubt sparked much interest this summer is the debate about healthcare reform. I’ve been keeping up to date with the town hall meetings, the death panel talk, Obama’s calls for bipartisanship, the Group of Six, etc, etc. It all brought back the notion that my $8.50 trip to the ER had cost less than my co-payments for my 10-minute appointments to get vaccines to come to Malaysia.
The other night as I did my usual, but unproductive, cruising of the Internet, I googled: “average cost of emergency room visit in Minnesota.” It gave me this nice link.
“The average E.R. visit costs $1,049…” And that was in 2002.
Better yet, I found the average cost of a trip to the ER for an allergic reaction to a bee sting, which is the same allergic reaction I have when I eat peanuts. The cost listed is $1,050. Granted, it does say that the trip “could also include hospital stay.” This cost, along with many others, is located here.
OK, so if I would’ve seen the bathrooms at the hospital I was at before I went to the ER, I might have not of been as comfortable as I was. I’ll admit that the nurse was amazed with my spent Epipen and told me she had never seen one before. The doctor asked me, “If you’re allergic to peanuts, then why did you eat them?!” I could tell the walls were white at one point in time. The florescent lights created a feeling that was more akin to the basement of a comic book store. The scene was interesting, but I received care and attention that ensured I was going to be all right.
Granted, I did not limp into the ER bleeding all over the place missing an eye or an appendage, but I did feel as if my life was at risk. I’m not so sure how much my medical bill would have been in the US had I gone into the ER in the same condition.
My trip to the ER was inexpensive. No, ridiculously inexpensive. How inexpensive? Think of it this way…
We seem to love our McDonalds-economics, so lets look at it that way.
Let’s consider a few figures…
$8.50 for ER trip to Malaysian hospital
$1,050 for ER in Minnesota in 2005
Taking into consideration the $1,050 figure “could also include a hospital stay,” let’s say I theoretically stayed one night at the Malaysian hospital. To makes things interesting, one night at the five-star Marriot in Kuala Lumpur costs $92 a night. So…
$100.50 for ER visit in Malaysia and one night at the five-star Marriot in KL
Back to McDonalds. The cost of a Big Mac in Malaysia is $1.88 and in the US $3.57. (Taken from The Economist)
ER visit in Malaysia = about 5 Big Macs
ER visit in Minnesota = about 294 Big Mac
5 star vacation at Malaysian hospital = about 53 Big Macs
Interesting.
Secondly, going off of this clever idea from The Economist.
The hourly minimum wage in the United States as of July 24th, 2009 = $7.25
Unfortunately there is no such thing as “minimum wage” in Malaysia. However, keeping with our McDonalds theme the hourly wage at McDonalds here in Malaysia is 3.5 ringgit an hour, which is roughly $1 an hour. From what I can tell, McDonalds seems to be one of the better, more stable jobs here.
Let’s imagine I work in Malaysia at McDonalds, and at home in the US I work a minimum wage job.
Hours to pay off ER visit in Malaysian = 8.5 hours = about one work day
Hours to pay off ER visit in US = 144 hours = 18 eight hour work days
Hours to work off hospital stay with 400 thread count sheets = 100.5 hours = about 12.5 eight hour work days
These calculations are far from perfect. I don’t know what kind of benefits McDonalds offers its employees here, I don’t know how many people have health insurance plans, and I don’t know if my hospital visit was expensive or not by Malaysia standards, I assumed the full amount of the salary would be paid towards the costs (in which case it would take much longer to pay the costs), but do note the rather large discrepancies in costs. I went to a public hospital, was admitted immediately, and walked out of the hospital doing all right. It costs less for a one-night stay at the Hilton and an ER visit here in Malaysia than it does for a visit to the doctor for a sore throat in Minnesota, $109 in 2003.
Most of my peers here are from Canada and Finland, both countries where the respective governments offer a healthcare plan. From conversations I’ve had with students from those two countries, what I can beam is that: taxes are a bit higher, sometimes you have to “wait in line” for a routine checkup, but in the end everyone is delivered high quality health care for no out of pocket costs.
I’ve met many people throughout my travels here where their respective government offers an insurance plan, and honestly I’ve heard no complaints.
The moment that really sparked my interest in the healthcare system in the US came out of a conversation I had with a few local Malaysian students. I had told them the story of going to the hospital and how it cost me only $8.50 and that it was an absolute treat because it was so cheap. I mentioned that the average trip to the ER costs over $1000 back in the US. The locals were bewildered. One asked me, “If you’re poor, what do you do?” I said, “You know what, I don’t know.”
A 2009 study released by the American Journal of Medicine (here), found that in 2007, 62.1% of all bankruptcies had a medical cause. There are plenty of legitimate reasons for filing for bankruptcy, but no one should go bankrupt paying for healthcare costs. I encourage you to read the report, heart-wrenching statistic after the other.
Let’s visit my previous calculations. Let’s say I were to have an allergic reaction and go to the ER and spend one night at the hospital in the US. I work a minimum wage job that has no benefits. I get a bill for $1,050. I couldn’t imagine my next 1.5 paychecks going to pay for my trip to the ER. What would I do if I were unemployed? Out of that 62.1%, how many people do you suppose worked a job that paid minimum wage? An hourly wage job? Were denied healthcare for a preexisting condition? Could not afford premiums? The list of circumstances, most of which I think are illegitimate, goes on and on and on.
Why is there opposition to healthcare reform in the United States? Why do people protest against a government-sponsored plan? The next time you hear someone say government sponsored healthcare is socialism, that the government is going to make euthanasia or abortion a policy, or whatever other bogus myths are being circulated, realize that a McDonalds worker in Malaysia making one dollar an hour probably has more affordable healthcare than many Americans.
Also, for those curious:
http://www.myhealthcare.gov.my/index.asp
There I am in 50 years living out my dream of a five star hospital visit complete with a view of the Petonas Towers. But seriously, the homepage advertises: “… a Heart Bypass costing USD130,000 in the United States would cost only around USD9,000 in Malaysia.”
Ian
Sources:
http://www.economist.com/daily/chartgallery/displaystory.cfm?story_id=14288808
http://pnhp.org/new_bankruptcy_study/Bankruptcy-2009.pdf
http://www.consumerhealthratings.com/index.php?action=showSubCats&cat_id=274
http://www.mnhealthplans.org/consumers/documents/HowMuchDoesItCost2005.doc
http://www.hotels.com
http://www.bluecrossmn.com/bc/wcs/groups/bcbsmn/@mbc_bluecrossmn/documents/public/mbc1_emp_comm_topic_er.hcsp
I had my friend, a fellow student named Xyn, drive me to the nearest hospital. I injected myself with an Epipen on the way there, and while it didn’t resemble Chev Chelios’ experience too closely, it certainly helped me avoid the worst of anaphylactic shock. We arrived at the hospital and went to the ER where they admitted me immediately. I had some very nice nurses check my vital signs and hook me up to a heart monitor machine. They thoroughly questioned me about how I was feeling and had me recount minute by minute what had happened since I ate the food containing peanuts 20 minutes earlier. I saw a doctor who asked me the same questions, asked me if I felt like I needed more epinephrine, and checked over my vital signs again. The doctor said I was doing just fine and quite frankly I felt just fine: quite relieved that I was going to be all right after probably one of the most serious allergic reactions I had ever experience.
The doctor said I was free to go and the nurses took me off the heart monitor. In total I was there for about an hour and always had someone tending to me. I left the ER and was directed to go to the payment counter. I had left my apartment in quite a hurry and hadn’t thought to bring a debit card or much cash. As I walked to the payment counter I started to fear a bill upwards of 600, 700, 1000 ringgit and realized I would probably have to ask Xyn to borrow some money.
I arrived at the payment counter…
Let us recount my hospital visit:
-Immediate admittance into the emergency room
-Staff of two nurses and one doctor tending to me for a period of one and one half hours
-Plenty of fancy medical machines measuring vital signs and stuff
… My bill was 30 ringgit: the equivalent of about USD 8.50.
I’m not even a citizen here and I’m able to go to the ER for under 10 bucks. I chuckled at the fact and thought to myself, “what a good deal!”
My trip to the ER faded to the back of my mind over the next days and weeks and I was occupied with exploring the new culture and country that Malaysia had to offer me.
I’m a bit of a news junkie so I’ve been staying up to date with all the happenings back stateside and around the rest of the globe. One issue at home that has no doubt sparked much interest this summer is the debate about healthcare reform. I’ve been keeping up to date with the town hall meetings, the death panel talk, Obama’s calls for bipartisanship, the Group of Six, etc, etc. It all brought back the notion that my $8.50 trip to the ER had cost less than my co-payments for my 10-minute appointments to get vaccines to come to Malaysia.
The other night as I did my usual, but unproductive, cruising of the Internet, I googled: “average cost of emergency room visit in Minnesota.” It gave me this nice link.
“The average E.R. visit costs $1,049…” And that was in 2002.
Better yet, I found the average cost of a trip to the ER for an allergic reaction to a bee sting, which is the same allergic reaction I have when I eat peanuts. The cost listed is $1,050. Granted, it does say that the trip “could also include hospital stay.” This cost, along with many others, is located here.
OK, so if I would’ve seen the bathrooms at the hospital I was at before I went to the ER, I might have not of been as comfortable as I was. I’ll admit that the nurse was amazed with my spent Epipen and told me she had never seen one before. The doctor asked me, “If you’re allergic to peanuts, then why did you eat them?!” I could tell the walls were white at one point in time. The florescent lights created a feeling that was more akin to the basement of a comic book store. The scene was interesting, but I received care and attention that ensured I was going to be all right.
Granted, I did not limp into the ER bleeding all over the place missing an eye or an appendage, but I did feel as if my life was at risk. I’m not so sure how much my medical bill would have been in the US had I gone into the ER in the same condition.
My trip to the ER was inexpensive. No, ridiculously inexpensive. How inexpensive? Think of it this way…
We seem to love our McDonalds-economics, so lets look at it that way.
Let’s consider a few figures…
$8.50 for ER trip to Malaysian hospital
$1,050 for ER in Minnesota in 2005
Taking into consideration the $1,050 figure “could also include a hospital stay,” let’s say I theoretically stayed one night at the Malaysian hospital. To makes things interesting, one night at the five-star Marriot in Kuala Lumpur costs $92 a night. So…
$100.50 for ER visit in Malaysia and one night at the five-star Marriot in KL
Back to McDonalds. The cost of a Big Mac in Malaysia is $1.88 and in the US $3.57. (Taken from The Economist)
ER visit in Malaysia = about 5 Big Macs
ER visit in Minnesota = about 294 Big Mac
5 star vacation at Malaysian hospital = about 53 Big Macs
Interesting.
Secondly, going off of this clever idea from The Economist.
The hourly minimum wage in the United States as of July 24th, 2009 = $7.25
Unfortunately there is no such thing as “minimum wage” in Malaysia. However, keeping with our McDonalds theme the hourly wage at McDonalds here in Malaysia is 3.5 ringgit an hour, which is roughly $1 an hour. From what I can tell, McDonalds seems to be one of the better, more stable jobs here.
Let’s imagine I work in Malaysia at McDonalds, and at home in the US I work a minimum wage job.
Hours to pay off ER visit in Malaysian = 8.5 hours = about one work day
Hours to pay off ER visit in US = 144 hours = 18 eight hour work days
Hours to work off hospital stay with 400 thread count sheets = 100.5 hours = about 12.5 eight hour work days
These calculations are far from perfect. I don’t know what kind of benefits McDonalds offers its employees here, I don’t know how many people have health insurance plans, and I don’t know if my hospital visit was expensive or not by Malaysia standards, I assumed the full amount of the salary would be paid towards the costs (in which case it would take much longer to pay the costs), but do note the rather large discrepancies in costs. I went to a public hospital, was admitted immediately, and walked out of the hospital doing all right. It costs less for a one-night stay at the Hilton and an ER visit here in Malaysia than it does for a visit to the doctor for a sore throat in Minnesota, $109 in 2003.
Most of my peers here are from Canada and Finland, both countries where the respective governments offer a healthcare plan. From conversations I’ve had with students from those two countries, what I can beam is that: taxes are a bit higher, sometimes you have to “wait in line” for a routine checkup, but in the end everyone is delivered high quality health care for no out of pocket costs.
I’ve met many people throughout my travels here where their respective government offers an insurance plan, and honestly I’ve heard no complaints.
The moment that really sparked my interest in the healthcare system in the US came out of a conversation I had with a few local Malaysian students. I had told them the story of going to the hospital and how it cost me only $8.50 and that it was an absolute treat because it was so cheap. I mentioned that the average trip to the ER costs over $1000 back in the US. The locals were bewildered. One asked me, “If you’re poor, what do you do?” I said, “You know what, I don’t know.”
A 2009 study released by the American Journal of Medicine (here), found that in 2007, 62.1% of all bankruptcies had a medical cause. There are plenty of legitimate reasons for filing for bankruptcy, but no one should go bankrupt paying for healthcare costs. I encourage you to read the report, heart-wrenching statistic after the other.
Let’s visit my previous calculations. Let’s say I were to have an allergic reaction and go to the ER and spend one night at the hospital in the US. I work a minimum wage job that has no benefits. I get a bill for $1,050. I couldn’t imagine my next 1.5 paychecks going to pay for my trip to the ER. What would I do if I were unemployed? Out of that 62.1%, how many people do you suppose worked a job that paid minimum wage? An hourly wage job? Were denied healthcare for a preexisting condition? Could not afford premiums? The list of circumstances, most of which I think are illegitimate, goes on and on and on.
Why is there opposition to healthcare reform in the United States? Why do people protest against a government-sponsored plan? The next time you hear someone say government sponsored healthcare is socialism, that the government is going to make euthanasia or abortion a policy, or whatever other bogus myths are being circulated, realize that a McDonalds worker in Malaysia making one dollar an hour probably has more affordable healthcare than many Americans.
Also, for those curious:
http://www.myhealthcare.gov.my/index.asp
There I am in 50 years living out my dream of a five star hospital visit complete with a view of the Petonas Towers. But seriously, the homepage advertises: “… a Heart Bypass costing USD130,000 in the United States would cost only around USD9,000 in Malaysia.”
Ian
Sources:
http://www.economist.com/daily/chartgallery/displaystory.cfm?story_id=14288808
http://pnhp.org/new_bankruptcy_study/Bankruptcy-2009.pdf
http://www.consumerhealthratings.com/index.php?action=showSubCats&cat_id=274
http://www.mnhealthplans.org/consumers/documents/HowMuchDoesItCost2005.doc
http://www.hotels.com
http://www.bluecrossmn.com/bc/wcs/groups/bcbsmn/@mbc_bluecrossmn/documents/public/mbc1_emp_comm_topic_er.hcsp
Thursday, September 3, 2009
My Living Situation
Penang has its oddities. There seems to be an abundance of 20-plus-story apartment complexes scattered throughout the island. From my balcony, on the 10th floor, I can see at least two dozen of the white stucco concrete structures. I live in a complex called Sunny Ville Condominiums. It’s made of up five buildings each 22 stories high. There’s a café, a mini mart, and a pool. The pool is nice to swim in, but it reminds me of an abandoned theme park as there are waterslides that don’t work and the two hot tubs sit empty of water. The café is really great though as I can usually eat large meals for under the equivalent of $2. A very nice family runs it with two daughters as the waitresses. For working what seem to be 10-plus hour days, they are all so cheerful all the time. I always walk away learning something new to say in Hokkien.
I’ve had a hard time gauging who the residents are. Every time I think I’ve got it figured out, I realize I’m not even close. There is a decent amount of Chinese Malaysians, but for the most part I think there are a lot of foreigners living here. My neighbors are a Chinese Malaysian family, an Iranian family, and a few Indian students whom I’ve seen once. Just like my Bahasa Malaysia class, there are people from all over. I’ve gotten to know people from Syria, Jordan, Palestine, Iran, China, Iraq, England, to name a few. There are a lot of Iranians and Iraqis living here, as well as plenty of others from countries in the Middle East. In the first week I was here I met a guy my age from Baghdad. It was a bit awkward talking to him at first as the thought lingered in the back of my mind: “he’s here because of the war.” As I talked more with him he told me he supported the US invasion and that he volunteered to work for the US army. Sure enough he showed me photos on his cell phone of him wielding an AK-47 standing with American troops. Now, I’m not sure about the validity of this, but he told me he came to Malaysia after he was kidnapped and his captors threatened his family that they would kill him unless a ransom was paid. He said his father paid $300,000 for his release and was sent to Malaysia as soon as he was returned to his family. Hearing a story like that, it’s impossible to really say anything. He’s since gone back to Baghdad saying he’d be back in October. I’m not saying that I didn’t believe him, I did. He pointed to scars on his face from being beaten and explained his nose was crooked because the butt of a rifle smashed it. It’s hard to comprehend something like that. Last summer I was playing golf and sitting on the beach, last summer he was…I don’t know where to begin.
There are plenty of other people I’ve met with stories I can’t even begin to imagine. I will revisit this topic as I do have a lot to write about hearing more and more every day from those around me. Hearing these stories, I can’t help but be thankful that I was born into circumstances absent of war, poverty, persecution, etc. It really, really makes you think.
How to segue back to my original topic from that, I’m not sure.
In my apartment, I live with two other exchange students. I live with Panu, a guy from Finland, and Morgane, a girl from France. While I’ve recently started to increase my efforts to pick up a bit of French, I’ve given up on Finnish already. My deepest regrets to Panu and the other 20 some Finnish students here.
Our apartment is furnished with the basics. Coffee table, some couches, some non-functioning kitchen appliances save the refrigerator, and a television that gets all FOUR of the local channels. Yes FOUR channels. I am living the highlife. My bedroom has two queen mattresses stacked on top of one another, a wardrobe, and a weird makeup mirror table thing that proves useful in keeping a pile of Ringgit, Thai Baht, Brunei and Singapore dollars.
I live a pretty comfortable life in Penang I suppose. I pay about 1/4 the rent for a much nicer place here than I paid for a hellhole in Dinkytown, although it was a loveable hellhole. The 10-minute walk to campus is sometimes grueling and many times I’ve arrived to class sweating through all the clothes I’m wearing. Overall though, I live a good life here.
Ian
I’ve had a hard time gauging who the residents are. Every time I think I’ve got it figured out, I realize I’m not even close. There is a decent amount of Chinese Malaysians, but for the most part I think there are a lot of foreigners living here. My neighbors are a Chinese Malaysian family, an Iranian family, and a few Indian students whom I’ve seen once. Just like my Bahasa Malaysia class, there are people from all over. I’ve gotten to know people from Syria, Jordan, Palestine, Iran, China, Iraq, England, to name a few. There are a lot of Iranians and Iraqis living here, as well as plenty of others from countries in the Middle East. In the first week I was here I met a guy my age from Baghdad. It was a bit awkward talking to him at first as the thought lingered in the back of my mind: “he’s here because of the war.” As I talked more with him he told me he supported the US invasion and that he volunteered to work for the US army. Sure enough he showed me photos on his cell phone of him wielding an AK-47 standing with American troops. Now, I’m not sure about the validity of this, but he told me he came to Malaysia after he was kidnapped and his captors threatened his family that they would kill him unless a ransom was paid. He said his father paid $300,000 for his release and was sent to Malaysia as soon as he was returned to his family. Hearing a story like that, it’s impossible to really say anything. He’s since gone back to Baghdad saying he’d be back in October. I’m not saying that I didn’t believe him, I did. He pointed to scars on his face from being beaten and explained his nose was crooked because the butt of a rifle smashed it. It’s hard to comprehend something like that. Last summer I was playing golf and sitting on the beach, last summer he was…I don’t know where to begin.
There are plenty of other people I’ve met with stories I can’t even begin to imagine. I will revisit this topic as I do have a lot to write about hearing more and more every day from those around me. Hearing these stories, I can’t help but be thankful that I was born into circumstances absent of war, poverty, persecution, etc. It really, really makes you think.
How to segue back to my original topic from that, I’m not sure.
In my apartment, I live with two other exchange students. I live with Panu, a guy from Finland, and Morgane, a girl from France. While I’ve recently started to increase my efforts to pick up a bit of French, I’ve given up on Finnish already. My deepest regrets to Panu and the other 20 some Finnish students here.
Our apartment is furnished with the basics. Coffee table, some couches, some non-functioning kitchen appliances save the refrigerator, and a television that gets all FOUR of the local channels. Yes FOUR channels. I am living the highlife. My bedroom has two queen mattresses stacked on top of one another, a wardrobe, and a weird makeup mirror table thing that proves useful in keeping a pile of Ringgit, Thai Baht, Brunei and Singapore dollars.
I live a pretty comfortable life in Penang I suppose. I pay about 1/4 the rent for a much nicer place here than I paid for a hellhole in Dinkytown, although it was a loveable hellhole. The 10-minute walk to campus is sometimes grueling and many times I’ve arrived to class sweating through all the clothes I’m wearing. Overall though, I live a good life here.
Ian
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
LKM 100: Bahasa Malaysia
The class I enjoy the most is my language course: Bahasa Malaysia. While I enjoy learning a new, and unknown to many, language, I can’t help but be amazed by the classroom environment. In a classroom where English is the language of instruction, I am the only native English speaker. Watching a non-native English speaker teach a group of 25 non-native English-speaking students, one is able to witness human communication at its most basic level. While I’m in no way trying to deride my professor or my peers, everyone is constantly trying to come to terms with each other as quite a bit is lost in translation. Off the top of my head, the languages spoken by other students are: Bahasa Indonesia, Arabic, Chinese (Mandarin and Cantonese), and Farsi. To be honest, my list wasn’t as impressive as I thought it would be. By country there are:
16 students from Mainland China
Three students from Indonesia
One student from Saudi Arabia
One student from Yemen
One student from Iraq
One student from Iran
One student from Singapore
One student from the United States (me)
A few weeks back when we were learning colors, we all had to draw our respective country’s flag on the board and explain what colors our flag was comprised of. When it was my turn to draw the good ol stars and stripes, my professor told me to make sure that I include every star. A student asked how many stars there were and I replied, “Fifty.” It got a good laugh. At the end of class, there were eight flags drawn on the board. My professor drew the Malaysian flag, so in total there are eight countries represented in the classroom. I was humbled looking at the board. Out of the eight flags up there, I had only been to three places that the flags represented. I’m not so sure I should even count Singapore since I was just in the airport, but I did clear customs and got the stamp so I’ll consider it a “to be continued” visit. It’s amazing, how vast and diverse the world and its inhabitants are, that a small sliver can come together in a 25’ x 30’ classroom in hopes of learning something new.
16 students from Mainland China
Three students from Indonesia
One student from Saudi Arabia
One student from Yemen
One student from Iraq
One student from Iran
One student from Singapore
One student from the United States (me)
A few weeks back when we were learning colors, we all had to draw our respective country’s flag on the board and explain what colors our flag was comprised of. When it was my turn to draw the good ol stars and stripes, my professor told me to make sure that I include every star. A student asked how many stars there were and I replied, “Fifty.” It got a good laugh. At the end of class, there were eight flags drawn on the board. My professor drew the Malaysian flag, so in total there are eight countries represented in the classroom. I was humbled looking at the board. Out of the eight flags up there, I had only been to three places that the flags represented. I’m not so sure I should even count Singapore since I was just in the airport, but I did clear customs and got the stamp so I’ll consider it a “to be continued” visit. It’s amazing, how vast and diverse the world and its inhabitants are, that a small sliver can come together in a 25’ x 30’ classroom in hopes of learning something new.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Sept 1st Brings a Promise
All right. My promise to you: I will write something every day from now on. I found myself only writing long blog entries of grand stories and cultural findings only to get sick of writing them altogether and never finishing them. I will write something every day. If I feel like I don’t have anything interesting to write about from that day, I will write about a previous experience/thoughts. Also, I read a Q&A with David Sedaris in The New Yorker and he said he started writing every day when he was 20. In the spirit of Homer Simpson’s creation of his invention timeline comparing himself with Thomas Edison, I will attempt to follow in David Sedaris’ footsteps because frankly, I’d like to be where he is some day.
OK, so now we have a contract. I did write start writing a sequel to “Malaysia: One Month is Retrospect,” and here is the beginning verbatim: “They say nothing gets done in Penang. I think my blog proves this.” Yes.
So my life in Penang so far has been day after day of enlightening/whimsical/frustrating experiences. Universiti Sains Malaysia has its quirks and it is obvious that I am still adjusting to student life here as I was asked to leave the library this afternoon because I was wearing shorts.
The classes I’m taking are as follows:
Bahasa Malaysia (language)
Microeconomics
Economic Transformation in Southeast Asia
Independent Study (researching security concerns within ASEAN)
It’s all quite interesting subject matter; just the way everything presented is very, very different from back home. Homework doesn’t really exist here and if it is assigned due dates are often pushed back 2-3 weeks at a time. I’m not complaining.
The teacher-pupil relationship is very different here. Basically the professor’s word is always fact and there’s not much room for debate. I haven’t been chided, but local students have often been ridiculed in front of the class for being late, not turning in an assignment, etc. It’s one of the weirder aspects of the culture I’ve grown accustomed to.
The campus is quite large and has many hills, which is unfortunate when it’s 90-plus and the humidity is topping out around 85-90%. Now that it’s rainy season it’s not as humid, but downpours that last for hours on end have replaced the humidity. Overall, the campus is quite pretty and I can tell the university goes to great lengths to keep the buildings and grounds in good condition.
I recently traveled to the states of Sabah and Sarawak, which are located to the southwest of Peninsular Malaysia on the island of Borneo. I really enjoyed the trip because it revealed to me a completely different side of Malaysia. The culture is completely different than Peninsular Malaysia in that it feels like a freer society. The way the locals dress is very different and social interactions just felt more, free than what I’ve seen and experienced in Penang and elsewhere in Peninsular Malaysia. I’m no expert on Malaysia, but my feeling is that the different ethnic makeup of Sabah and Sarawak contribute to these cultural differences. There are a higher percentage of people with backgrounds comprising of indigenous tribes such as the Iban who live in remote river villages.
I traveled for 11 days with my roommate Panu. We made it to some pretty isolated towns where people looked at us with an expression that said, “What the hell are they doing here?” In a few of the cities we visited there wasn’t really much for the average tourist to see, but we were more intent on observing a different side and society of Malaysia. We visited a small village called Kapit, which is deep in the interior of Sarawak. I felt like a Westerner hadn’t set foot there in ages. The side had a weird vibe as if it was the only inhabited place on Earth. I put the pictures up on Facebook if you’re interesting in looking at more. I experienced a lot during those 11 days so I’ll probably post some stories as I continue to update this daily.
Merdeka Day, or the Malaysian Independence Day was on Monday. I went and saw a fireworks show on Sunday night at midnight. Unfortunately, I feel like we Americans are always let down by other fireworks shows because well, the Fourth of July shows are probably the best in the world. I was still able to enjoy the show nevertheless. Happy belated Merdeka day.
The fasting month of Ramadan started about a week ago. I’m eager to experience the celebration week Eidul Fitri following the conclusion of the fast two weeks from now. Really the only marked difference I’ve noticed is that prayer calls are more often, you can be in and out for lunch in five minutes since barely anyone is eating, however getting a table for dinner after dark sometimes proves to be a challenge. Also I’ve had two courses cancelled this week since one of my professors is dehydrated from fasting.
I’d love to write and tell you guys everything at once, just the reality is that there’s too much to tell.
In other news, I joined the fencing club at the university. So far I’ve been to two meetings where I’ve learned and practiced the footwork fundamentals. I’m enjoying it since I didn’t know a thing about fencing, but the instruction reminds me an awful lot of violin lessons I took when I was 10. All I’m told is what I’m doing wrong. When I’m told I’m doing something right I have no idea what it is, but I’m learning and that’s what I’m there for.
I’ve started to look into places to go for a week break I have at the end of September. I ask you: where would you go for five or so days if you were me? Inspire me.
Ian
For reference:
OK, so now we have a contract. I did write start writing a sequel to “Malaysia: One Month is Retrospect,” and here is the beginning verbatim: “They say nothing gets done in Penang. I think my blog proves this.” Yes.
So my life in Penang so far has been day after day of enlightening/whimsical/frustrating experiences. Universiti Sains Malaysia has its quirks and it is obvious that I am still adjusting to student life here as I was asked to leave the library this afternoon because I was wearing shorts.
The classes I’m taking are as follows:
Bahasa Malaysia (language)
Microeconomics
Economic Transformation in Southeast Asia
Independent Study (researching security concerns within ASEAN)
It’s all quite interesting subject matter; just the way everything presented is very, very different from back home. Homework doesn’t really exist here and if it is assigned due dates are often pushed back 2-3 weeks at a time. I’m not complaining.
The teacher-pupil relationship is very different here. Basically the professor’s word is always fact and there’s not much room for debate. I haven’t been chided, but local students have often been ridiculed in front of the class for being late, not turning in an assignment, etc. It’s one of the weirder aspects of the culture I’ve grown accustomed to.
The campus is quite large and has many hills, which is unfortunate when it’s 90-plus and the humidity is topping out around 85-90%. Now that it’s rainy season it’s not as humid, but downpours that last for hours on end have replaced the humidity. Overall, the campus is quite pretty and I can tell the university goes to great lengths to keep the buildings and grounds in good condition.
I recently traveled to the states of Sabah and Sarawak, which are located to the southwest of Peninsular Malaysia on the island of Borneo. I really enjoyed the trip because it revealed to me a completely different side of Malaysia. The culture is completely different than Peninsular Malaysia in that it feels like a freer society. The way the locals dress is very different and social interactions just felt more, free than what I’ve seen and experienced in Penang and elsewhere in Peninsular Malaysia. I’m no expert on Malaysia, but my feeling is that the different ethnic makeup of Sabah and Sarawak contribute to these cultural differences. There are a higher percentage of people with backgrounds comprising of indigenous tribes such as the Iban who live in remote river villages.
I traveled for 11 days with my roommate Panu. We made it to some pretty isolated towns where people looked at us with an expression that said, “What the hell are they doing here?” In a few of the cities we visited there wasn’t really much for the average tourist to see, but we were more intent on observing a different side and society of Malaysia. We visited a small village called Kapit, which is deep in the interior of Sarawak. I felt like a Westerner hadn’t set foot there in ages. The side had a weird vibe as if it was the only inhabited place on Earth. I put the pictures up on Facebook if you’re interesting in looking at more. I experienced a lot during those 11 days so I’ll probably post some stories as I continue to update this daily.
Merdeka Day, or the Malaysian Independence Day was on Monday. I went and saw a fireworks show on Sunday night at midnight. Unfortunately, I feel like we Americans are always let down by other fireworks shows because well, the Fourth of July shows are probably the best in the world. I was still able to enjoy the show nevertheless. Happy belated Merdeka day.
The fasting month of Ramadan started about a week ago. I’m eager to experience the celebration week Eidul Fitri following the conclusion of the fast two weeks from now. Really the only marked difference I’ve noticed is that prayer calls are more often, you can be in and out for lunch in five minutes since barely anyone is eating, however getting a table for dinner after dark sometimes proves to be a challenge. Also I’ve had two courses cancelled this week since one of my professors is dehydrated from fasting.
I’d love to write and tell you guys everything at once, just the reality is that there’s too much to tell.
In other news, I joined the fencing club at the university. So far I’ve been to two meetings where I’ve learned and practiced the footwork fundamentals. I’m enjoying it since I didn’t know a thing about fencing, but the instruction reminds me an awful lot of violin lessons I took when I was 10. All I’m told is what I’m doing wrong. When I’m told I’m doing something right I have no idea what it is, but I’m learning and that’s what I’m there for.
I’ve started to look into places to go for a week break I have at the end of September. I ask you: where would you go for five or so days if you were me? Inspire me.
Ian
For reference:
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)