I have spent close to a month in Malaysia now and it hasnt ceased to amaze me in its complexity and ability to baffle the f*** out of me. As time passes, I pick up on the small local habits and traits that I recognise in my dad and his sisters and in sooe cases, ones that ultimately come back to me. For example, I never understood this weird noise that my dad makes but in the local restaurants, people purse their lips together and kind of pout to get the attention of the waiter. Its incredibly rude in my view but it seems to work. There is the local dialect of what I'm going to call 'Manglish', a mash up of English and Malay idioms with 'lah' interspersed wherever they feel like. Granted, these habits dont really apply to me at all but the general stubborness of the Malaysian populus is something that I see in me. What a stubborn b****** I am.

Like anywhere, I have encountered a certain amount of rudeness such as people pushing into queues for taxis and trains but it would be naive to think that this sort of thing doesnt exist outside of the UK. However, I have been struck by the number of random acts of kindness from the locals, complete strangers over the time that I have been here. One example of this would be the owner of a chinese restaurant in Batu Arang paying for our meal at the local chapati/roti telur joint. A couple of days later we went to have tea with him. He normally closes his shop at 9 but he kept it open cos he thought there might be the chance that we would drop by and he enjoys the company. When we asked him why he insisted on paying for the meals he said that he was so happy to have people come all the way from Europe to Batu Arang. He picked up the bill again without us knowing a couple of days later. We asked him about his life, of which he seemed contented with, and he said he had a 14 year old son who died of downs syndrome and now he lives at the back of his restaurant where he keeps his supplies. The thought of sleeping with cockroaches and other nasties freaks me out but he obviously has no problems with it.

Since arriving in Batu Arang and particularly at the project that I work on, i have been humbled by what I have seen and the people that I have met. The 1st time I met the residents that live in the rehab centre was at a theatre production that they were putting on in KL. Within rehab they use drama as part of the process and as a tool to educate people in HIV and drug abuse. For a bunch of guys who have been throughsome seriously f***ed up and s***ty times, they show a fantastic amount of enthusiasm and a willingness to learn. Rufus, one of the residents was asking about my background, where I come from etc and I mentioned that Dad was from Malacca. He asked me where exactly and I told him Banda Hilleh. Rufus' response to this was, 'I have been to Banda Hilleh. But I was in jail there, I didnt go to visit'.

Since working on the project, I have learnt a lot about their situation. the stigmas attatched to recovering addicts and peoplpe with HIV that were rife in the UK during the late 80's and early 90's are still hugely evident in Malaysia today. It seems that the Malaysian government acknowledge there is a problem but refuse to do much about it. it baffles me to think that millinos and millions of dollars are spent on towering skyscrapers (pertronas towers are a prime example) but social problems are largely ignored. As a result, many of the projects dealing with drug rehab are privately funded by the people that run them so day to day survival is somewhat of a struggle. I fail to see how money can be continuously pumped into ridiculously tall and shiny buildings but the basic level of infrastructure is still pretty rubbish. Its not uncommon to see huge blocks of mega swish flats go up slap bang in the middle of nowhere, surronded by nothing but open drains. In a way, it seems the Malaysia has forgotten who or waht it is. Its mad efforst to show the world that it is part of Western civilization have failed to address the needs of its people who obviously suffer as a result. Going back to the drug abuse and HIV issue, if these people are still being treated like s*** then how can the nation possibly progress? I'm probably being terribly naive. What do you reckon, spice?

Since being in Malaysia, I have experience the concept of rubber time. You can have strict arrangements to meet at a certain time but the malaysian party will almost always be at least half an hour late. In its broadest terms. its total f***ing chaos and mass disorganisation. Take for example the day I was waiting for a lift to one of the houses to run some english tutorials. I jumped in the van but was unexpectedly taken to the rehab centre instead. All the residents were running around like headless chickens. it turns out that at half 9 that morning that Alex (the director of the rehab operation) had decided that the group were going to attend a ceremony at World Aids Memorial Day. In Kuantan. A 4 hour drive away. By the time we had everything together it was half one. We were driven there in a Proton Kiara at breakneck speed. I say breakneck speed but the speedometer didnt work but I could tell it was fast cos I couldnt hold a conversation due to the noise coming from the engine. We drove through monsoon conditions without seatbelts. Our driver was a recovering addict. In hindsight its quite funny.

We were told before setting off that even though it was hundreds of milies away, we would DEFINITELY NOT be staying the night and we would be coming back to Batu Arang in the evening. However, we arrived an hour and a half late and so missed the ceremony completely. It was at this point that Alex said that we were now going to stay the night. Malaysian disorganisation at its best. We visited another rehab centre that has managed to get some funding from the state's sultan. Their operation, although still fairly rudimentary in comparison to western standards was far superior to that in Batu Arang. I met one of the pioneers of drug rehab in Malaysia. He was sat in a dark room but still took the time to tell stories about his time in the UN as part of some humanitarian aid program. He had spent the past 30 or so years helping people with drug addiction. My details get a bit sketchy here cos I learnt he too was dying of AIDS.

As much of a massive cliche it is, my time as a volunteer has made me realise hoe much I take for granted. During the week I live in a glorified shed with a leakygated roof. The bathroom doesnt have a light which makes any toilet dashes in the middle of the night a bit hazardous if the torch has been misplaced. My room doesnt have a fan and is normally a gathering place for a f*** load of mosquitos. The toilet flush is operated by a bucket of water. I'm lucky that it isnt a squatter. Can you imagine using one of those f***ers in the dark with a bout of dehli belly? My meals are provided by the rehab centre. They are largely self sufficient apart from their meat. Although they are largely meagre offereings, they are always very tasty and nutritious. the cook is NEVER away from the stove!

Part of my time has been used to help train some of the residents to be english teachers. Although at times the saying'the blind leading the blind' springs to mind, I have managed to string together some sort of programme that can hopefully be used to help the less knowledgeable residents improve their language skills. many of the Burmese refugess hope to one day relocate to the US. God help them. I have alsop set up a blog for the rehab centre to help them gain exposure and hopefully lead to some funding in the future. It seems a pretty small thing to have done but I hlearnt that extravagent schemes have a tendancy to fall on their ass, especially in somewhere like Malaysia where efficiency soesnt seem to be on anyones agenda. Seeing as the residents IT training is pretty limited, a blog seemed to be the most logical resource to use. AQ full blown website would probably baffle the residents as much as it would me.

At weekends I have been going back to Sri Hartamas, an upmarket suburb of KL where I have use of a house that belongs to one of the i-to-i coordinators. This has been a great bas to explore KL with. I advise anyone who finds themselves in the capital to get down to the Petronas towers and see them at night. Truly awesome.

Before I sign off, a mention must be given to the truly industrious 1978 Datsun Bluebird that ferried us around for all of 4 days. One friday night, the gearbox packed in on us and we had to continuously turn the engine off and put it in gear and rev the f*** out of it. We got back to our house in Sri Hartamas by the skin of our teeth. Coming to a complete stop in the middle of the higghway was somewhat of a brownpants experience.

Also went to a Narcotics Anonymous meeting last night but I'll save that for another occassio ncos my fingers are going numb. x