MALACCA 22nd October 1988, Mid-day.

Malacca is a mixture of Dutch / Portuguese / British / Chinese / Indian architecture, the place where a deep love was found and replicated for the past 15 years, so as we arrived in our luxury coach from Singapore, the first thing we noticed is that the bus station was not situated in its original position. As we had seen as we approached Melaka, it is said by the high born and the ones on the lower rungs heading up the society belt tremulously, 'Melaka is a dirty Portuguese town', but to Noi and me it glowed with the resonance of jade, the lucky jewel of the Chinese.
BUT, after disgorging ourselves from bus, I was glad to be on dry land again; the swaying of the bus journey felt like being on the high seas in a storm. After grabbing our bus-soiled cases we headed off to the Bus Inspectors' office, to use the phone after poring over our accommodation book supplied by the Malay Embassy in England. I spoke to the Malay Inspector speaking of the journey and he said that our Malay driver was the best they had, and we were lucky to have him, as the Chinese drivers drove too fast and were dangerous. (This conversation in Malay spattered with English whilst betel juice spluttered out of his mouth onto his white shirt in exasperation of this white man expressing doubts over his driver's ability.) "Boleh, Boleh" I said then we walked off, Noi telling me off for complaining ha ha.

We selected the Palace hotel, on 50 Malay Ringitts (£12 per room per night). We got a taxi and only a short journey to the Palace. It looked ok, not top of the range as it was a budget hotel, as it still is today. We booked in and arranged safekeeping of our passports and stuff. Rigorous checking as it was in Pattaya which gave us peace of mind.



 

The balcony looked out onto a busy road, where hawkers were shouting out in Malay and Indian, trying to sell their goods.

After a short time we went out to discover the Malacca as we remembered it, but of course things are never the same, the roads were congested with traffic, but I always remembered a meal we used to eat here so I asked Noi 'Let's go and eat some Cai Fan (boiled chicken allowed to go cold, sliced into strips, with boiled rice and cucumber dressing) and see if it is the same?' The one thing that never changes in Malacca are the Portuguese-style Shopping arcades, a collection of all sorts, tailors, food shops, herbalists, Kedai Kopi (coffee shops). It was really nice walking around getting a feel again.
We passed Baba Nyona house, Malacca is famous for this culture
 

We had our Cai Fan in a small restaurant, then walked down to the harbour area, where on the high ground we were married in the old Dutch Registry Office. It was being refurbished on our visit there. We had a Chinese type wedding in Chinese and English. The Chinese Registrar spoke a long time to Noi. I asked later why he spoke so long and she told me that the Registrar didn't want her to marry a foreigner, ME, ha ha. This is us on our Wedding Day outside the same building. Noi took this photo in front of the Red Church.

Not too far away are the ruins of the Portuguese St Paul's Church and graveyard where a photo of Noi was taken. It's strange but I never ventured down here when I was here before, so we are tourists.

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We went back to the hotel, freshened up and decided to visit our old home on the beach road. The proper name was Limbongan, where memories would come flashing back. We enquired at the desk as to how much a journey to Limbongan would cost by taxi or trishaw. This is a good principle and has worked many times. Find out 'How Much' a local person would be charged, then after asking a price of the taxi etc, approach the mode of transport and negotiate a price. There is always a kind of fireworks display of emotion from the taxi driver, but don't worry, it's all part of the Asian negotiating principles.

After waving down a trishaw, I said we wanted to go to Limbongan, he said 'Long way John', I said 'How much' I said, he motioned us to get in but, its best to finalise a price we thought. Noi asked me if we should get a taxi ?, after an argument with this scrawny bloke, we agreed on 5 $Ringitts he wanted 10$R, it was about 2 miles away along the beach road, great remembering all the houses and little temples, when we reached the lane where we lived it was emotional, no doubt about it, 4448c Limbongan, a one storey house, where the bath didn't work, we used the Amahs bath, a bucket of cold water thrown over us as we lathered, No hot water, No air conditioning, but on seeing the house now, modernised with a balcony, fencing, an extension, we just looked in awe. When we married Aunty Loh Kan bought us the furniture as we had no money. The day we got the furniture I hired 5 trishaws bed on one, chairs on the other, dining table on another and so on, it was the Malaccan way of furniture removals.

When we went to market Noi used to buy live hens and I would home in a shopping basket, tie to the tree in the back garden, and near tea time, Noi would go out cut its throat, drench in a boiling hot saucepan pluck and we had an old fashioned Chinese charcoal burner, she would cook the dinner over the burner, its best to forget the chicken was scratching in garden 30 minutes earlier ha ha, she would call me 'Les Sek Fan'  Its dinner time.

After we had been to our old home we decided to try  and find aunt Loh Kan on Tranquerah Road, which was on our way back, she was not at the old house and we were told a family member lived along the main road.
After waving down a trishaw, I said we wanted to go to Limbongan, he said 'Long way John', I said 'How much' I said, he motioned us to get in but, its best to finalise a price we thought. Noi asked me if we should get a taxi ?, after an argument with this scrawny bloke, we agreed on 5 $Ringitts he wanted 10$R, it was about 2 miles away along the beach road, great remembering all the houses and little temples, when we reached the lane where we lived it was emotional, no doubt about it, 4448c Limbongan, a one storey house, where the bath didn't work, we used the Amahs bath, which was a bucket of cold water thrown over us as we lathered, No hot water, No air conditioning, but on seeing the house now, modernised with a balcony, fencing, an extension, we just looked in awe.

The army would NOT provide me with an house as I had got married without official permission, so we had to rent this empty house as it was out of my single mans pay (Married soldiers got extra pay)
Aunty Loh Kan bought us the furniture as we had no money. The day we got the furniture I hired 5 trishaws bed on one, chairs on the other, dining table on another and so on, it was the Malaccan way of furniture removals.

When we went to market Noi used to buy live hens and I would home in a shopping basket, tie to the tree in the back garden, and near tea time, Noi would go out cut its throat, put in bucket of hot water then pluck it. Noi did all the cooking on an old fashioned Chinese charcoal burner, she would cook the dinner over the burner, its best to forget the chicken was scratching in garden 30 minutes earlier ha ha, she would call me 'Les Sek Fan'  Its dinner time.


After we had been to our old home we decided to try and find aunt Loh Kan on Tranquerah Road, which was on our way back, she was not at the old house and we were told a family member lived along the main road.







There are Chinese houses on this stretch of road with the backs to the sea, it was in olden times a place where the rich lived, Noi was uncertain which house Mrs Gan may now be living in, but after a few minutes of chatting to locals Noi found an house and we knocked on the door, these were large Mahogany doors, and I suppose my knocking could not he heard, so I went to investigate around the back ---- I saw a Chinese girl putting out some washing, she was startled in seeing a white man, but my winning smile lessened the fear, I asked if Mrs Gan was in residence in English, blank stares, tried a bit of Malay and she smiled and pointed to the inside of the house, I collected Noi, told her we may be in luck and she came around, the Amah (Chinese girl servant) looked shocked at seeing a Chinese lady with a whiteman, in old Malacca ways, white men are racially impure, I have been spat at many times by old women in Malacca when out with Noi, in the 60s)

A tall Chinese man in his fifties came out and asked in English what we wanted, I said we were looking for Aunt Loh Kan and her employer Mrs Gan, I told him that Noi was Aunt Loh Kan's niece--- he smiled and recognition prevailed and he invited us into his home, which was very, very long, Not wide ---- it was very beautiful highly decorated with fine Chinese paintings, there was an altar in the front room made out of rose wood, very highly carved, the chairs and dining room set was also highly carved.

*/ Noi had one sent from Hong Kong a carved Rice table with six stools */

Mr Gan we were speaking to was a rich playboy, ( As we found out later) he didn't work, just enjoyed life, he spoke perfect English, he said his sister Mrs Gan and Aunt Loh Kan now lived in Kuala Lumpur, he invited us out to dinner that night, the town was very busy, there was an Indian festival Deepavali This 'Festival of Lights' symbolises the triumph of good evil, and is celebrated by Hindus in the seven month of the Hindu calendar. This is a time for cleansing rituals and thanksgiving prayers at temples and household altars. Hindu homes are gaily festooned with lights and oil lamps, and 'open houses' welcome relatives and friends to delicious traditional Indian sweets and savouries and there was a street parade of  Kerbau wagons had some Indians highly dressed sat inside the wagons, flowers and orange peel ? was being thrown in front of the wagons with an Indian band, very festive.




After a large dinner at a restaurant, Mr Gan dropped us off at our hotel, we were ready for our next trip to Kuala Lumpur

 

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"Copyright Leslie Parkin (A tribute to Noi) © 2005. All rights reserved."



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