Malaysia, and South East Asia, in general, is not a land of sleeping in. When the temperature can reach 95 F/35 C or more by noon, it makes sense that you would get the heavy lifting done before lunch. I, however, am not normally one of those people who rises early. I'm not one of those people who can sleep till 2pm, either, but rousing me from bed before nine am is normally a re-creation of Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead.
Not so in Malaysia, thanks to organized religion.
The Muslims tried their best. They start their
call to prayer around 5:45 am this time of year. Yesterday's morning guy was considerably better than today's, the call to prayer starting slow and sweet, but he got some vibrato into it towards the end. Today's guy was either very ill, or maybe had lost his vocal cords in a freak washing machine accident. It sounded like he did the chanting thorough one of those electronic voice boxes. But for either of them, it was simply too short. What, three minutes of amplified warbling is going to wake me up pre-six am? Come on Mohammed.
Yesterday being Sunday, the Catholics tried their best, chiming in with some serious bell work at 6 am, probably just to remind their flock that if they didn't get out of the house while the Muslims were chanting then they were going to be late. But it was pretty weak.
But the Hindus: well now, that was something spectacular. Yesterday they started with some chanting around six thirty, and then about five minutes later a bell joined in. It doesn't sound like much yet, but this 'chanting' could be described as 'yelling', and the 'bell' would be better called a 'gong'. After five more minutes of that, we started in with the drumming. This was not one guy with a bongo- it sounded like the entire drum corps of a NCAA Championship Football Team- back beat, syncopation, a cymbal. This is actually when I woke up the first day. And I blamed it on the Catholics, assuming that because it was a Sunday, they had decided to assemble an actual marching band as a piece de resistance to show the other denominations in town what was the what.
At about the twenty minute mark, this little wake up call has the force of a jet engine and the excitement of a snake charmer, and this is when the horn comes in. The horn doesn't really play a tune, it justs sort of chimes in to underscore that sleeping is over. Hindu scholars might argue that the horn represents Vishnu, or maybe Amber, the destroyer, but for all intents and purposes, Horn says Get On With Your Day.
And that's how I woke up yesterday, and this morning. And because I got up so early, I got to eat this, Masala Thosai (also spelled Masala Dosa in some places). It's like a crispy crepe filled with curried potatoes and served with three separate and delicious sauces. So, in the new world order, the Hindus of South India are invited to be in charge of waking and breakfasting.
Yet another picture of me looking rather odd in a public eating place. Note to self: quitting looking weird on film. PS, to All the Stick People (prior travelling partners extrodinaire), it breaks my heart to be eating this without you. Get your shoes on and meet me here.
