Saturday, February 28, 2009

Well, my first week in Melaka comes to an end. I’m sitting at a Starbucks, a little taste of home. Last nite I went out with Rob to Junkor Street, and we ate at a place called the Geographical Café. It was good. Junkor closes to traffic Friday and Saturday nite, and the street is filled with vendors hawking all kinds of stuff. It seems that massage rollers and balls and stuff are a very popular item. And silly cheap toys for kids, poorly crafted carving of Chinese junks, and all kinds of strange food. The cafes and the bars are lit up, and there is dining in the street. Of course, you have3 to watch where you sit, so you don’t get wet from the condensate dripping from the aircon units above—as I quickly found out! I had a nice Thai fish dish, tho I wish it hadn’t been breaded. We had calamari for an appetizer, and it was fresh, cooked lightly (no rubber bands-whew!), and delightful. We had a nice time, and got home at a reasonable hour.

Work seems to be going well. I’m welcomed by the local design/construction management firm—MEI. I think they knew, as well as Rob/SunPower, that they needed more help—it seems obvious that the project had started to drift over the last couple of months. So I’m welcomed, accepted, and Rob reports my efforts to date are well-thought-of. Sweet!

The site is a broad flat red soil plain, with a forest of square concrete tree stumps in the middle. They are the tops of the pilings, which they are in the process of trimming off and recycling (by crushing them and using them as fill). About half have already be cut off, but there were 12,000 all together, so it’s kinda a weird sight—all these grey matchsticks jutting into the air 3 to 5 meters. In a way, it’s a little desolate. And they’re moving earth at the back in of the site, with loaders and dump trucks running fairly continuously—rain or shine. We work in a temporary facility—a large prefab metal building. It’s pretty reasonable accommodations for a construction jobsite. And they just moved in, so they’re still getting the bugs out, but nothing you would expect.

Speaking of bugs, I’m surprised at how few there are. And speaking of rain or shine, there’s been plenty of rain. Usually one good gully-washer every day. And when it’s not raining, it’s very (VERY) hot and humid.

Melaka is considered by many a rather provincial little burg. It’s smaller, and quieter, than Singapore to the south, or Kuala Lampur (KL) to the north. But it has an interesting history, and it’s already beginning to grow on me. Like all asian cities, it’s a crazy-quilt mixture of gleaming high-rises next to rusty corrugated steel huts, broad highway and narrow streets, huge malls and tiny shops. Equally mixed are there people—Malaysia is a real melting pot. Local Malays, Chinese, a lot of folks of Indian descent, Eurasians, and every a few of us white folks. Tho I must admit, I may be the tallest person in town. The religions are also diverse—Muslims, Buddhists, Hindus, and Christians—and there is a real spirit if tolerance. Everybody speaks English, and the few who don’t, well, we’ve managed. It’s nice, it’s comfortable here. I’m comfortable here.
Yet at times, there are pangs of loneliness. Sometimes talking to the family is worse than not, but it’s always a joy to here them on the line. I’m a little disappointed at not being able to be there for Sophie’s 11th birthday. I sent her a card, tho, and I hope she gets it in time.

Another focus this week has been finding a place to live. I stayed at Rob’s house on the golf course (huge, nice—but a bit Spartan and cavernous—clearly no one really “lives” there) when I first got here. Then, when he came back, I moved to the Equatorial Hotel. Fantastic place—5 Stars. And right in the heart of town, which makes bopping around easy, tho there hasn’t been much time for that yet.
I did find a place however. It’s called the Everly Resort, and it’s about half hotel, and half condo. I have a choice of 2 units: One is right over the beach on the second floor, and the other is a 14th floor “penthouse.” The penthouse is cool because of the view, and it has a spiral staircase to a very large, very private, roof top deck. Yet the 2 floor unit is more connected to the ocean, and is 3 bedrooms (it’s almost too big) and gets lite from more than one side, which is nice. However, the water here is not for swimming. The Straits of Malacca are a major shipping channel, and the water is very polluted. Still there is the sight and sound of the water. The penthouse is nice, seems to have a few more amenities, so I’m leaning that way. It needs some fixing up, and should be ready in about 10 days. So I’m a bit torn. The place has an adequate gym, all the amenities of a hotel, and an amazing pool. It’s the right place for me. They all come with a washer—everything is hung to dry here—as well as pots and pans and the like. None of the units have an oven, just microwaves and stoves. Any kind of grilling is done outdoors, and no one seems to bake.

Food here is cheap, and good—if you like spicy. And I’m talking putting Thai food to shame type spicy. We’ve been having lunch at a place where we spend 4 to 6 R (R for ringut), which equates to a couple of buck. Right now, there are about 3.5 R to $1.00 US. Dinner last nite was R15, or about 5 dollars. Other than that, things aren’t as cheap as the Philippines. My grande latte was R10.5, or about 3 bucks—comparable to the States.

Rob and I will go mountain biking at lunch every day, and that will be great, especially in this heat. I found a good local bike shop, and started pricing out bikes. The owner was real friendly, even telling me about organized rides and the like. I’ll buy a mountain bike to ride with Rob and Wayne. People do road bike here, but it seems a little risky. Traffic isn’t all that bad, and the roads, at least the major roads, are as nice as any interstate highway—broad and smooth and clean. But I haven’t gotten used to driving on the “wrong” side of the road (the left). It’s not so bad in the daytime, but at nite, when I see lites coming at me from the right, I get a little spooked. Too many years of training telling me “danger Will Robinson!” Not that it matters that much, I have a driver. His name is Afizul, and he’s a good guy. He’s a devout Muslim, and prays 5 times a day. His wife is apparently very pregnant with their 3rd child. He has 2 girls already, and is hoping for a boy.
So, car and driver, beach front condo—it’s coming together.