A Hankering for Penang-kering

I just spent a long weekend with a truckload of Fulbrighters in Penang. Penang is a world apart from the Malaysia I know and love (to complain about). Like the rest of Malaysia, it has some yummy street food, only better. Unlike Kuantan, it has a great arts and culture scene, with street art down every dilapidated-yet-alluring alleyway, tons of bookstores, and plenty of lovely cafe/gallery spaces. By the way, I had a great conversation with my pal Achsah about street art vs. graffiti, and she satisfied me with a good, non-obnoxious definition of the difference that made me regret my flippant last blog post. (Of course, regretting a flippant statement is a total first for me, so I hardly knew how to handle it.)

I had a really good time eating my way around the city with friends. As luck would have it, my old travel buddy from Laos, Lien, whom you may remember from my fishing trip photos, is now making Penang her home base. It was fun to see her and get her tips on what to do in the city. One night we even accidentally stalked her to the super hip bar/cafe where she works.

Shockingly, that's all I really have to say about Penang, aside from some informative photo captions. Stay tuned for a much-delayed "snapshots of life around town" post about Kuantan.

These photos are from the "Blue Mansion," aka the Cheong Fatt Tze Mansion. Like the Baba Nyonya Museum in Malacca, it is the former home of a wealthy Straits Chinese merchant. The house is gorgeous and extremely spacious, although unfortunately no original furniture remains after heirs sold it off. Interestingly, the mansion was in total disrepair for decades, home to squatters and businesses. People even drove motorcycles through the grand entryway! It has been beautifully restored since concerned Penang residents bought in 1989. We enjoyed a delicious Malaysian high tea inside the mansion, including the Penang laksa, a famous type of noodle soup.

 


 

Sampling of streetscapes.

Scenes from China House. It's basically paradise--cafe, art gallery, bar, performance space, library, bakery, you name it. The first picture shows the homemade chocolate peanut butter ice cream and chocolate buttermilk cake with Earl Grey icing that we enjoyed. Later in the night, we wandered through a lovely courtyard, watching the rain fall on the reflecting pool, to enjoy the sounds of a very talented and charismatic jazz singer who performed in drag. Is this Malaysia? 

Nasi kandar at Line Clear. This alleyway establishment is famous in Penang. A teacher friend from my school in Kuantan recommended it to me, although she said she's not sure what the big deal about nasi kandar is. It's basically rice with various dishes that you can choose from. I agree with her; I'm not sure what the big fuss is about, but it was tasty, at least.


Unfortunately I don't have a photo of the view from the delicious Thai restaurant we at ate on a clan jetty in Penang. Back in the day, Chinese clans set up jetties to welcome new immigrants from their clan to Penang. There's the Tan jetty, the Chew jetty, etc. Talk about an organized immigrant community. Read about it here.

READING: Forgot to update for a while. 

Flatland: A Romance of Many Dimensions by Edwin Abbott Abott. Better in concept than in execution. I have recommended this book to many math-inclined people, so I thought I should finally read it myself.

The Brief and Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao by Junot Diaz. Really good, but didn't live up to the extreme hype. 

The History of Tom Jones, A Foundling by Henry Fielding. Excellent! Loved it! Such snarky and self-aware narration! Basically an 18th-century cross between Pride and Prejudice and Don Quixote. 

The Master and Margarita by Mikhail Bulgakov. Highly recommended. This was a re-read. It's gleefully madcap at times and sorrowfully beautiful at others. Really takes off when it describes the main female character becoming a witch and having no regrets. 

Tropic of Cancer by Henry Miller. You ban it, I'll read it. Made me want to go to Paris. 

1915: A Novel of Gallipoli by Roger MacDonald. Bought for $1 in Australia when I realized I had never had a single lesson on Australian history in school and didn't even know for sure whether Australians fought in WWI. Turns out they did, in huge numbers. The novel kind of sucked, though. 

Borstal Boy by Brendan Behan. Behan in prison at age 16 for IRA activity. I'm in the middle of it (the book, not IRA activity). Best line so far: "Fugh the begrudgers."

Wolf Hall by Hilary Mantel. In the middle of it. Incredible. I want to be Thomas Cromwell.