November 3rd - 6th 2008
On arriving in Melaka, I left the bags with Robbie and told him I'd check out the hostels in the area and return. Return I do, telling him that I'd found a 25 Ringgit hotel room (approximately $7) with a TV, air conditioning and en suite bathroom with hot water. It's a shame that we were standing in its reception when the misunderstanding became clear – the woman had said 75 RM (approximately $30). Oh well, the “Travellers' Lodge” at 30 Ringgits it would have to be: no TV, a fan and a shared bathroom, but, as I pointed out to Robbie leading him back down the road to where we had started, “it does have a nice elevated 'chill area’ with those cushions on the floor that you like.” “I think I would have preferred a TV and a bathroom,” he replied. Oh well!
Melaka is a bit of an odd town in my opinion. I couldn't stop my feet from walking down all the little streets on our first day and after five hours of searching for the town's identity, I decided Melaka is split into three parts: the “normal” and architecturally not so inspiring area where the majority of Melaka's citizens live, work and go out; Chinatown where industrious Chinese residents seem to work day and night in their living rooms designing, producing and repairing anything from engine parts and paper to colourful and mystical paintings. The authenticity of Chinatown has probably been undermined by the brightly-coloured gates plastered with “World Heritage Site” which enclose the area but its streets are still charming enough and it's lovely to walk past one art gallery after another with Chinese temples and little restaurants separating them at random. Thirdly, there is what I can only describe as the Disney Land showcase part of town which someone is trying too hard to make the tourist centre of Melaka. Here, all historic buildings are painted the same horrific and boring, brick-red colour, there is a miniature windmill to please the Dutch tourists who are tracing their colonial days, an excess of museums (amongst many, the Melaka Museum, the Money Museum, the Palace Museum, the Maritime Museum, the People's Museum which includes the Museum of Enduring Beauty and the Kite Museum, the Open Air Museum of Public Transport – a name I am guessing at as I saw no explanation for the train and airplane which stand in the middle of town), huge shopping malls, a TV tower with a rotating lift going up and down, a Ferris wheel and, get this, in true Disney style, a Sound and Light Display documenting Melaka's history: the magical end to your day in Melaka, where all your dreams can come true ... I guess if you're that kind of tourist with those kind of dreams. As Robbie rightly questioned when we heard music coming from one of the hotels on our last evening, “Is it Malaga or Melaka that we're in?”
One of the best things I did in Melaka was spend an hour talking to a painter in his gallery. The gallery had caught my eye because there was an article outside on the artist - Tham Siew Inn – explaining that he had travelled around the world for 3 years when he was 25, looking for inspiration for his artwork. After glancing at more articles documenting his career, written in magazines across the world, I was a bit surprised to see the man himself inside, a Malaysian of Chinese descent, for I imagined him now to be living in Paris or somewhere, his gallery perhaps looked after by a friend. He approached me as I was staring at one painting that was puzzling me – a canvas full of blue paint. What on earth was it supposed to mean? We got chatting about his travels, a world trip so different to ours, involving more boats than planes and of course no internet cafes on every corner. He showed me inside his Chinese/Dutch house, introduced me to his wife and sons and took me through to the garden - which for him was an extension of his artwork. I got the chance to ask him what the blue painting was all about and was pleased that I could then understand his work better. Unfortunately I couldn't afford a painting (!) so had to apologise and just buy a print on a postcard. He said it didn't matter at all, what he liked was people to take an interest in his work. One man had walked into his gallery the other day and walked straight back out again and he had been deeply offended.
The other great discovery in Melaka was the bakery section at the “Carrefour” supermarket down the road from our hotel. It enabled Robbie to try out tuna donuts for the first time and myself to gorge on sweet delights for next to nothing each morning.
The final thing I will remember about Melaka is that it was the town we were in when Barack Obama got elected in as the president of the United States. We were disappointed that we couldn't follow the election live as there was no CNN channel on the guesthouse's TV but we did manage to watch part of Obama's victory speech on my notebook in our room before we lost the wireless connection. What an historical election and how hopeful everyone is for improvements in America. The fact that it has to be even mentioned that Obama is black, the first black President in the States, however, just shows how far we are from there being true equality in the world. Still, the election's importance will go down in history. It's as if Mandela has successfully passed on the torch to the next generation. Let's hope Obama can also leave generations in debt and with gratitude for all he does.
