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A little over a month ago I went on a road trip in peninsular Malaysia. The entire journey spanned close to 800 miles and over 22 hours of driving.

Starting out in Kuala Lumpur, I went up north to Penang and Kedah before heading eastward through a mountain range to Kelantan, Terrenganu and then Pahang before completing a loop back towards my point of origin.

And I immediately found a novel liking for life on the road. If anything, it taught me that truck drivers are not necessarily grouchy all the time. Life on the move — literally moving — can be enjoying especially in the hills and countrysides.

En-route to Kelantan from Kedah — the road least traveled — I almost drove into a herd of cows. They were huge. Maybe they were buffaloes, I couldn’t tell. When my car stopped, one of the animals looked at me straight in the eyes, and I stared back. They gathered in pack right in front of my car. A sane person would have pressed the honk but it was the last thing on my mind. I enjoyed my little communion with the animals, and it seemed like a minute passed before they cleared the road.

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I encountered interesting caution signboards in these remote places: Livestock crossing; Wild boar crossing; Deer crossing; and Elephant crossing. Like, seriously, they had an image of an elephant on the signboard! Wish I could’ve caught a glimpse of an actual elephant crossing the road. That would’ve been something.

I started out on the journey with no intention of going east coast. The Malaysian east coast highway is not as developed as its western coast; journey times are longer through the eastern route to anywhere with exception for Kuantan in Pahang, but I’ll get to that later.

What started out as a weekend break in Penang Island and rendezvous with couple of old friends turned to be an escape from the office for me. I developed suicidal thoughts after what could possibly be my 200,000th line of codes and had a glimpse of defects in the Matrix world we live in. I thought for the first time that everything can be easily explained if the following statement is true: God does not exists and humans are basically evil.

Let me first explain the number. Assuming I work 5 days in a week for 11 months in the past 7 years, I would have written 130 lines of codes daily on average. This is a logical figure since many programs that I work with in a day would have around 200 lines of codes written. I could be wrong, but this blog entry doesn’t call for precision.

Now let me explain the statement. It isn’t true. There are times I wanted to believe that God does not exists — purely because then I could choose to do whatever I want — but my firsthand experience with the unexplained, unseen, supernatural dimension has taught me that certain truths are undeniable even with science. There is definitely something out there and cognitive dissonance doesn’t go along with evidence.

Penang is a beautiful island city. I went to the beach and tried the local food for which Penang is legendary. The island could have been like Singapore if it wasn’t for the federal government of Malaysia’s armpit treatment to every other state that is not within its political party’s wing. For all it’s worth, Penang is still one of the relatively nicer state.

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Allow me to explain a little on Malaysia’s muddy political state of affairs. It is a racist state; one that the government denies but continues to improve. How could one race be given special rights and privileges when others in this multi-racial country sweats and bleeds for the real improvement of the nation? The Malays did not win their independence, no; The British liberally granted it, with condition of power sharing among the races. Yet today, a capable Malaysian Chinese or Malaysian Indian will not even be given the second post in command.

It is something that many Malaysian has possibly come to accept. Reluctantly. Citizens with rights, has given up hope to fight for such a cause seeing that the present day government liberally amends the Constitution to keep themselves in power; over 600 times in 40 years. In comparison, United States in its 200 years history only has 27 amendments.

Freedom of religion? They can throw that page in the gutter. A Malay cannot officialy embrace any religion other than Islam; which is funny. While they claim there is no compulsion in Islam, one cannot leave the religion without getting thrown in jail or receiving death threats. And these are not even the extremist among them. The victims are people with basic human rights, born into a Muslim families and were never asked to choose. It is a shame that Malaysia designed its flag based on the Star Spangled Banner, because they do not imitate the very cradle of freedom and justice that United States represents.

And we hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.

There may be no end to this inequity; Malaysians are after all, in my encounters, peaceful people. The only way this nation would heal is that, if one day the Malays wake up from their slumber and realize their actual worth: Less. Japanese came to invade and they couldn’t defend. The communist took over and they couldn’t fought. The British came and liberated Malaya. The Malays don’t deserve this country to themselves; they owe it to everyone else. Simply, what one cannot defend one do not own. Then maybe, just maybe, they’ll stop bickering for welfare treatment, get smart, see the world, acquire wealth instead of spending it, and start treating others as they’d wish to be treated.

I digress. Normally I would restrain from political comments, but having been here long enough and losing all faith in the conscience of men, certain things must be said. A friend of mine said, “the world needs a good spanking” and everyday I see this proves to be true. Our society is not so different from the Romans whom fed gladiators to the lions purely for entertainment. Even people whom are perceived to be cultured, driving Mercedes and Jaguars displaying success, spits and throw garbage out their car window and occasionally fails to flush the toilet. This is mankind’s endsville. Monkeys in pants and suits.

The journey from Kuala Lumpur to Penang is a little over 4 hours. Kedah to Kelantan close to 7 hours, and for 2 hours I drove through the mountain range in rain, fog, and complete night darkness of the surrounding. Not a gas station in sight. If I busted my wheels and stopped, I would probably be raped by some giant chimpanzee for invading their turf.

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All the time I was heavily relying on my Garmin GPS loaded with maps from Malsingmaps.com website. I had an external high-gain GPS antenna placed on the car’s rooftop and that got me through all the way.

Without my GPS, I could have taken a wrong turn and ended in Thailand. At one point the GPS showed that I was only 13 kilometers away from the border. Since Kedah and Kelantan borders with southern Thailand, I guess it’s possible that one could enter Thailand through the dense jungle. One thing for sure, it won’t be like crossing into San Diego from Mexico.

I reached Kota Bharu in Kelantan past midnight. My original route when I started deviating off-course was from Kedah to Dungun in Terrenganu, but that journey itself would take another 4 hours. I had driven over 6 hours without food and rest. I had to check-in for the night.

The following day I plotted my course back to Kuala Lumpur on my laptop. I was shocked to find that I had a 10 hours drive ahead of me. I immediately regretted not heading back south from Penang, but the sigh over didn’t last long. Driving had become a passion.

So, 6 hours into my journey from Kota Bharu I made a stop in Teluk Chempedak in Kuantan. The beach is small but clean. There are some restaurants but primarily McDonalds and KFC with outside seatings.

The east coast roads thus far had been country roads or local trunk roads serving as primary north-south route, but from Kuantan south-westward to Kuala Lumpur it’s a nice open highway. I left Kuantan around 9pm and cruised at 120kmh to reach my destination just after midnight. And I even raced with another vehicle on the highway for about 30 minutes! I’m too chicken to drive beyond 140kmh, so in the end I had to let the nincompoop drove past me by.

And oh, I played country tunes and truckers’ songs like East Bound and Down for most part of the trip. I feel like a semi-truck driver!

Epilogue.

Having returned safely from my road trip, I examined two facts that came prominently to my mind: (a) I traveled alone; and (b) I pondered about life. While I did not hear from God as I hoped I would, I remember a poem I drafted last year. It’s really about God.

Your words are like the depth of Uzboi Vallis,
In the broad of Crater Holden on Mars,
Your words they can take me to my knees,
In the broad of horizon into the stars.

Ironically, I wrote it when I was courting a girl whom couldn’t appreciate anything at all. Not flowers, nor diamonds, nor gifts.

And being alone with my gadgets isn’t as fun as it used to be.

I think it’d be really nice if I can take someone with me next time on my road trip. Someone whom shares the adventure, time spent together, and hopefully money for the gas tank too.

It was another morning in Egypt. For almost two weeks my friend and I had been traveling from Upper Egypt down to Alexandria and parts of Sinai. This day was our last day in Egypt.

We had breakfast in the executive lounge of Cairo Marriott and Omar Khayyam Casino where we stayed. It was on a very top floor and we could see the whole city from the glass window of our breakfast table.

The hotel concierge offered us a four door sedan and a driver-cum-guide who would take us around the city for 125 Egyptian Pounds. He’d take us to three major landmarks around the city in Coptic Cairo, Islamic Cairo and the city center itself. My wife declined.

For our duration of trip in Egypt, my friend had been assumed by the locals to be my wife. According to the Bible, when Abraham was in Egypt he denied Sarah to be his wife and claimed she was his sister. From the Bible we know that didn’t go so well, so for her own good she might as well be my wife rather than a sister or just a friend.

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We walked for about 20 minutes instead until we reached a subway station. Part of Cairo mass transit system is underground, and it’s something totally unique in Egypt. It almost felt like Chicago, until one passenger started reciting Koran verses out loud. In a different country such act would have triggered an alarm, but in Egypt, it’s probably a daily occurrence.

Taking the train was easy, although you may wish to know that there is a dedicated woman-only car. We didn’t actually see it, but it’s supposed to be there according to our guide book.

Our first stop was Mar Girgis, in Coptic Cairo.

Coptic Cairo houses most of the Orthodox Christians and Jewish community in Egypt. There are numerous small churches in the area and at least one synagogue. We were there at the right time to follow a church service; Sunday morning around 10 a.m.

The church procession was somewhat ancient. They sung hymns in a language I couldn’t decipher; not even sure whether it was Arabic. And they burned incense during the service; something modern churches don’t do. Their reverence amazed me, but I did not feel the presence of God nor was there a sense of liberty in the place. Maybe it was just me. They’re orthodox.

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While I found my faith in solitude and quiet time with God in His presence, my church atmosphere is somewhat vibrant, loud, and youthful. I used to attend churches like City Harvest in Singapore, various generic non-denominational International Christian Fellowships around Asia and Assemblies of God in America. I’ve always thought of the Orthodox to be more like the Catholics, but this visit shows they’re not.

Not all the churches in Coptic Cairo are open to tourist visitation during their service however. One usher actually turned us away, even though we were just standing at the back row and weren’t distracting the procession.

There’s also a peaceful cemetery amidst the plethora of worship sanctuaries in Coptic Cairo. Most of the tombs have lavish decorations on them, with carving of cherubs and other artistic form of Christian icons. Some of the tombs dated back to early 1900, and there’s a hint of Greek Orthodox influence in the way the cemetery was done.

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We took a cab to Islamic Cairo where we visited a Citadel. It was huge, but nothing impressed me. We visited a mosque and a couple of national museums within the Citadel itself before heading back to the hotel.

We spent less than 20 Egyptian Pounds for transport. Budget indeed.

Checkout was horrible, for a Marriott standard. We needed to book a cab from the hotel to get to the airport. I didn’t have time to take care of the details because I had to sign for checkout, so for one last time, I used the wife reference to my friend. I told the concierge, “Please book me a cab, my wife will take care of the details.”

And we left for the airport. There’s a small immigration counter next to the check-in counter. Most people don’t know this, so there’s no queue at all as compared to the line at the rows of immigration counters before the gates. We boarded our plane. The end of our Egypt trip.

Epilogue.

When I got back from Egypt, there were two things on my mind. First being the recovery of burns I suffered in the desert excursion. It wasn’t bad, but I just needed to get it off my head. Then there’s the line of wisdom from When Harry Met Sally (1998). “Men and women cannot be friends”. It’s somewhat true. Attraction gets in the way.

Since then I’ve discovered that I can write poems and I began to adjust my lifestyle. Some say I’m a changed man, but that’s what journeys do to people.

Saturday morning in Sharm El Sheikh. My friend and I stayed in Marriott Red Sea Resort. We booked the cheapest room. When we checked in they upgraded us to a suite.

After spending three nights in Sinai, we were leaving for Cairo. I was a little sad because we didn’t have time to visit St. Catherine Monastery and Mount Horeb, but I was also looking forward to leave the boondocks for civilization.

Breakfast was brief. We had little time to spare since we had to catch a flight. When we missed the hotel’s shuttle bus, we ran outside to catch a public van. It costs 10 Egyptian Pounds for two, although the price may vary according to one’s bargaining capacity.

The van dropped us just outside the airport’s entrance. As we approached the entrance, a plainclothes police officer stopped us to check our passports. I handed both of our travel documents. He looked at mine, then my friend’s, and asked “Your wife?”. “Umm… yeah!”, I replied, a little unsure whether I should say otherwise.

Now, it did cross my mind. According to the Bible, when Abraham went to Egypt with his wife Sarah, he told the Egyptians that she wasn’t his wife but his sister.

Our flight journey from Sharm El Sheikh to Cairo took us a little over an hour.

Upon arrival, we were greeted by bunch of touts. I was a quite agitated at that moment, that I saw the Arab touts as nothing more than clowns with bees in their pants. If I had a baseball bat I would have used it (to smash the bees). Amazingly, with what little patients I had left, we walked away from the airport to a bus terminal nearby where the average public are actually decent human beings.

Indeed, a decent local gentleman advised us which bus to ride on to get to Cairo city center, and he didn’t even asked for tips!

It then became very clear that knowing how to read Arabic numerals is crucial to getting around on public bus. My friend was prepared. My admiration for her escalated to a new level there and then, and I told myself never to belittle ten minutes of committing foreign symbols to memory. That’s what it took me to memorize Arabic numeral.

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We got off the bus in Medan Ramses. I believe Medan means square, but that’s just a guess. A good one. It was chaotic with cars, vans, buses and people trying to go places. It got a little bit confusing, and amidst the entropies all around us we managed to get on a van to get to our hotel in Saray El Gezira.

And the only reason we managed that is because a kind hearted aged man whom speaks English showed us how. Egyptians are nice and helpful, but touts in any country are flea-infested loose monkeys in need of a fix.

We checked into our hotel in Zamalek. Cairo Marriott Hotel & Omar Khayyam Casino is one of the better hotels in Cairo, albeit a little pricey. We didn’t get any room upgrades this time, but I booked on executive floor with a view of Nile River from the balcony.

It was a little posh, given that we were carrying backpacks and was supposed to be backpacking, but considering it was going to be our last night in Egypt, I wanted extra luxury and comfort before our long flight home.

Now, we weren’t too impressed with the hotel staffs. This Marriott, like the one we stayed in Sharm El Sheikh, lacked attention to detail. And I couldn’t get the room to cool down. The air conditioner was weak. Also, location wise, Nile Hilton would have been a better spot.

We went walking from the hotel to some place nearby Medan Tahrir. We were just strolling down along the banks of Nile River until we reached there. Along the way, a little girl was selling roses and offered me to buy a stalk for my girl. It costs 1 American Dollar. I was tempted to, but I didn’t know how my girl would take it.

We had a late lunch at Hardee’s.

One of the most interesting sight we saw in this city was a group of men standing outside a building, and a woman dropped a pail of water on them from a window on the second floor. It didn’t seem threatening. An old lady stood next by us and explained. We would have understood, except she was speaking in Arabic.

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Out of respect, we spent some time listening to her anyway. I came up with my own conclusion. I figured it was some sort of a weird engagement custom. One of the guys on the street was definitely courting the lady at the window.

The next weirdest thing to it would probably be a Vulcan mating ritual.

While we were in a shopping district hunting for a pair of walking shoes, an aged man approached us and started talking.

He was friendly. He wasn’t old, but he was definitely in his late 30s. He was a big sized guy, the kind that could take on a lion. At first he seemed mild mannered and was just being tourist-friendly, but I didn’t trust him.

We told him we were shopping for a pair of shoes, and he pointed us in a general direction. He then said he wanted to hand us his name card, just in case, except that his name card was in his office nearby. Just across the street.

So we went. Once in his office (which was basically a souvenir store) he asked me to write down my contact. We suspected something was amiss, and we turned to leave. I held my friend tight around her waist in one arm while I scanned the room. There was another man in the room, and he could easily block the door. The street outside wasn’t crowded. No one would hear a shout coming from this store. My senses were on full alert.

Just as I was about to walk away, the big guy pushed me hard on my shoulder and asked why I was leaving. I smiled and told him we’re not interested. I had my friend held tight in one arm, and was concerned for her safety. For a moment, she wasn’t just a friend. She was a Lady and she needs to be away from that place. My eyes scanned the room for anything that could be use as a weapon, in case things got ugly. Above all, I prayed.

We continued walking through the door and we left. I was glad, but I remember his disgruntled looks. Then I thought, maybe he wasn’t dangerous after all. I don’t buy that he was being tourist-friendly, but maybe he was just an average conman that posed no physical harm. Whoever he might be, I was glad that we were safe.

Later in the evening, we retired to bed early after a day of walking around the city.