Going to Malaysia is like trysting with a lover who never ceases to intrigue me with such wildness and fun, old-school charm and urbanite sophistication.
The mosque of Shah Alam Blue
It’s my seventh visit to the country, but my first time in Selangor, watching eagles by day and fireflies by night, trekking up a historic light house, feeding monkeys, inspecting canons, touching Execution Stone (where the Sultan lopped off the heads of traitors), exploring half a thousand hectares of renewed forest, dangling over the canopy, homestaying with local folks, angling for catfish, and eating curried festival food with my fingers.
I took Air Asia Zest’s maiden flight from Kalibo, Aklan to Kuala Lumpur (KL). But my hosts took me off the normal tourist route to experience traditional village (“kampung”) lifestyle in Selangor, 30 kilometers from KL. The state took its name from the river, Sungai Selangor. Our guide said it’s Se-langau (one bluebottle fly), after the bug which landed on a warrior’s face as he slept by the riverbank that the name of the place originated from. When the fly escaped, the warrior took it as a sign he should withdraw from battle. Others maintain it’s “Salang Jemur,” being once a place of punishment where criminals were tied on wooden stilts (“salang”) then left to bake under the sun (“jemur”). Another argued it’s combined Malay and Tamil, “Selang-Ur” or city by the strait.
Petronas Towers
I was looking forward to my homestay. “Your host might even reenact a Malay wedding for you, or invite you to a real one,” our guide intimated. I’ve only seen the “bersanding,” sitting-in-state ceremony of bride and groom on a dais, handfeeding each other with sweetened rice, amid the fertility symbols of egg trees and sprays of mango blooms (“bunga maggar”), at our first stop, the Sultan Alam Shah Museum. Newlyweds don’t consummate their union, however, until the fourth night, when the bride, clad in white, lies down on a bed draped with white sheets. The next day, the bridegroom presents the bloodied white cloth proving his wife’s virginity. “Times have changed,” my guide shrugged. “These days, young couples take their honeymoons first.”
Outside the museum loomed the Blue Mosque (Sultan Salahuddin Abdul Aziz Shah Mosque), emblem of Shah Alam City, once famous for having the largest dome in the world, until the Sultan of Morocco built a mosque to outdo it.
Then we had a night tour of I City’s fun houses.
Red Carpet, Malaysia’s first interactive wax museum, houses 100 megastar figures. So, I introduced myself to Queen Elizabeth II, conducted a presscon with Obama and Putin, snuggled beside the Pope, sang with Michael Jackson, and danced “Gangnam Style” with Psy. I also met Guiness world-record holders, from the tallest man on earth to the girl with the biggest breasts, American Annie Hawkins with a bra size of 102ZZZ.
FRIM forest canopy
The House of Horrors had me ducking under mummies, past cadavers popping out of coffins, skulls, ghosts, and ghouls. It’s funny, not frightening, until the exit, when a live zombie swoops in. The guy ahead nearly knocks me down as he screams. At the Trick Museum, I crossed the abyss in the Pharaoh’s tomb and played matador with a charging bull before boarding the Space Mission transporter to blast my way through weird planets and escape through a wormhole. For Snow Walk’s minus five degrees Arctic experience, I picked my way through 100 tons of LED-lit ice menagerie of bears and penguins, igloos and ice ships, tobogganing down a chute and sliding on the rink.
Next day, I did the Keruing Trail, which winds through statuesque timber and magnificent buttressed trunks in the Forest Research Institute of Malaysia (FRIM)’s regenerated jungle. Trekkers clustered around the Tongkat Ali trees, used as natural Viagra and patches of Kecip Fatima, the female Viagra counterpart. Shaking off the crowd, I clambered over tangles of gnarled roots and boulders, onward to Rover Track and the Canopy Walk, swinging on a single plank almost a thousand feet high over the tree tops.
Next stop was Bukit Melawati, the highest hill overlooking the old royal capital, Kuala Selangor, and the Strait of Malacca. Its fortified summit was the scene of many battles with Dutch colonizers. Now, only its lighthouse remained, still guiding ships after a hundred years. At its foot stood a latticed structure for “new moon” sightings (Baitulhilal), where the sultan goes to determine the start of Ramadan (fasting month for Muslims), Syawal (end of fasting), and Hari Raya Haji (Feast of the Sacrifice).
Ancient cannons still point at the river mouth and on the hilltop stood Batu Hampar, Execution Rock. A palace maid lost her head there literally, for adultery, as did many traitors and criminals. Standing at the peak, I beheld eagles riding the afternoon thermals, half a hundred of them “kettling” overhead. Below, troops of silver-leafed monkeys and long-tailed macaques shadowed tourists looking for goodies, often jumping on people’s heads and shoulders.
Downhill, I walked by the Royal Mausoleum of Selangor’s first three Sultans and the legendary Meriam Penggawa-Chief Cannon, which “refused” to stay put in any other place, exploding on its own. It was only appeased when folks wrapped it in royal yellow cloth and brought it to Melawati to guard the old kings. Before calling it a night, I set off to the Firefly Park (Kelip-Kelip Kampung Kuantan), which hosts the biggest lightning beetle colonies in the world.
In the dark silence broken only by paddles hitting the water, a boatman took me upriver to Berembang mangrove trees flashing with thousands of synchronized lights, like Christmas trees in the infernally hot summer night. On the tree tops, bigger, brighter lights occasionally flashed—another firefly species luring their smaller cousins to eat them. Still, it’s breathtaking. People believe fireflies are tears of the moon princess or magical spirits living in trees.
Bedtime was in the home of my Malaysian “foster family.” Come morning, I rode behind their tractor to harvest vegetables before angling for catfish. Kingfishers flitted from my path, along with Asian fairy blue birds, peaceful doves, egrets, and eagles. As I cast my line baited with chicken liver, my Malaysian host whispered, “Let it sink. Catfish are bottom-feeders.” Soon enough, I felt a tug on my line and landed my catch.
Finally, I explored the river by kayak and tried my hand at batik painting before digging into lunch—Nasi Ambeng, white rice piled with salted fish, spicy noodles, fried soy meat, and curried chicken—a festive community meal eaten with the fingers. Driving back to KL, I glanced back at endless rice fields dotted with box-like buildings—condominiums for edible nest swiftlets.
They migrated to the village after the big typhoon.
I would have, too. Selangor is a spectacular home.
emmieabadilla@yahoo.com
SIGHTS, LIGHTS, AND SEAFOODS From left: Garden of Lights, Execution Rock at Bukit Melawati, and dried seafoods sold beside Selangor river