Three's Company

When I was a little girl, my sister and I just loved the show Three's Company ('Come and knock on our door...we've been waiting for you') and we used to watch it everyday...there would always be some shenanigan or funny little conflict that got Jack into trouble, but all would be harmonious and calm and any issue would be resolved by the end of each show. Who would have thought that 2 women and 1 man could make it all work out?!? Well, in Georgetown in Penang, Malaysia there are 3 main religious groups - Muslim, Hindu and Buddhists, but unlike the lovable, but slightly perverted Jack Tripper, tough, yet sensitive Janet and ditsy and absentminded Chrissy they do not always work out their differences and live peacefully. Now, it isn't quite so in your face, this unrest and conflict seems to be a bit more covert than overt, but we experienced some first hand today while innocently walking to get our delicious rice and noodle dinner from our local Chinese rice and noodle dinner maker.
It all started when we woke up this morning from what I would consider a very restful sleep. Alex was reading her newly traded book about some horrific child abduction and a rogue reporter who is trying to solve the case and we decided to make our way to the Thai Consulate to sort out our visas before we get to Thailand to ensure that we can stay for 60 days, as if you enter the country via bus you can only get a 2 week visa. We have learned that each country has their own little visa quirks and you really have to study up on them before hand so you don't run into any problems when you arrive in a new country. We walked down to the main bus garage and took the 101 to a stop about 15 minutes away from the Consulate and had a lovely walk down the street until we arrived. It was very easy...we walked in, signed in, got the necessary paperwork, filled it out, left our passports and were told to return at 3:30pm to pick them up. We had about 3 1/2 hours to burn...what to do, what to do...let's go to the Snake Temple. We had met some man named Thomas (though I have been calling him Tobis for days, as I could not understand his accent) in our hostel called 75 Travellor's Lodge. Tobis is from Sweden and has been living abroad since he was about 18 or so. He currently resides in Thailand where he sells golf equipment and does odd jobs that he can get resulting in a life of leaving the country every 2 months to sort out his visa and having barely any money to survive with no fixed abode...our nightmare life scenario. For example, we supplied him with water and cinnamon bread, as well as Mentos today while he was hanging out with us due to the fact that he has only 68 Ringgit left to last him until he can get a bus back to Thailand and that bus ride costs exactly 68 Ringgit. Now, he has helped us with visa information as well as tourist tips, such as, "go to the Snake Temple, it is cool." He has no contact with any member of his family and was, "raised by the system," since he was 16-years-old, as his family "fell apart." No other details were extracted from him other than he currently lives free of charge in a half Thai half Latino woman's condo that he is renovating in return for room and board and little lovin', but they are not yet boyfriend/girlfriend. He is an interesting man and came a long way from our initial assessment of paedophile so that says a lot. It is hard not to lump all of these middle aged white men with their tiny young (or young looking) Asian partners into the paedophile category, but it is not right to judge, as we often misjudge. So, based on Tobis's recommendation, we went to the Snake Temple on the 401E bus. Now, based on his description, we were expecting a Temple looked like a snake, architecturally speaking, and actually had snakes oozing out of random holes around the temple much like Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom! Both of these expectations were brutally rebuffed, as we walked up the stairs to what looked like every other Chinese Temple in the whole of Asia...red, glitzy, very ornate, smelled of incense...that sort of thing. Walking further inside the temple, one can see a group of people gathering around something of interest, and as one gets closer one sees several snakes sitting atop a counter being forced to rest on tourists shoulders and heads posing for pictures...poor little snakes. Behind this counter of snake torture, there is a fake plastic tree (like the ones Radiohead talk about) with about 7 or 8 colourful snakes resting precariously on random branches with a hand written sign saying, "DO NOT TOUCH! VERY POISONOUS AND DEADLY!" The one spectacular thing about this temple was the garden. There were many interesting sites to behold such as the row of stone benches with various Chinese calligraphy written on the backs and windows with gold dragons filling the glass from frame to frame. We also managed to finagle a poor innocent cat to come and hang out with us and pose for pictures, which is totally different than the cruelty experienced by the snakes I would like to add before you all start judging me...Alex wants to clarify that it was me and only me who forced the poor defenseless cat to hang out with us. We got some great photos while sitting on the lovely pagoda covered terrace with the cat, while admiring the flowers. In the way back of the temple, near the toilets was a sort of snake farm which you could pay 5 Ringgit to attend, but we passed, as we could only imagine what other snake tortures were behind that wooden partition. Now, Tobis went to this temple as a 12-year-old boy and remembers it so fondly that Alex and I were remiss to shit on his dream and memory of the place so we just kept our opinions to ourselves when we saw him later and he asked our opinion, but honestly...the Snake Temple gets the Mel and Al Gold Star Rating of 2...as in 2 big thumbs down!
Back to the Thai Consulate to pick up our passports and feel the excitement of a new visa in them and then a nice long walk back to the hostel, stopping in all the various shops, cafes and side streets we saw on the ride up there...some really great photo opportunities really. We also went into the local grocery store to feed my autistic obsession with grocery stores and this one was quite neat and well organized and easy to navigate..the air conditioning and product prices were an added bonus. We got some very cheap bottled water and good hiking snacks (bananas, raisins, peanut butter and crackers) for tomorrows' 6 hour (return) hike up Penang Hill. What a great and productive day all around.
Then, after we dropped everything off and headed out for our evening ritual of rice/noodle dinner then Internet cafe (yes, it is possible for one to create a ritual even after being in a new place for only 24 hours), we met a big white American Buddhist monk dressed in full burnt orange regalia with a shaved head and bare feet. He was quite smiley with a spring in his step and somehow lured us into the longest most painful conversation of all time! Initially, it was innocent enough...talking about tattoos and the local food, but it quickly turned into so much more. He has three names, Peter, Brother Mark and Bhikkhuaggacitto...now for the purpose of the next few paragraphs and this story we will just call him PBMB to respect his choice to have 3 names and due to the fact that I cannot be bothered to type any of them, though if I had to chose one, I would pick Bhikkhuaggacitto, as it sounds very funny when he says it and makes me giggle...I am a bitch! So, PBMB soon starts ranting about Buddhism and how Muslims and Hindus seem to think that all Buddhists do is hide away in Temples and never fight back when they are slandered or their doctrines and beliefs chastised. He makes it a point to write articles that he publishes on his blog Dhammaprotector.blogspot.com combating all of these negative comments and being...well...a bit racist towards other religions. He seems particularly hell bent on slandering Muslims...and he just loves the sound of his own voice. He was preaching to us for over an hour and we were starving to death...we were able to get a few interesting personal bits out of him such as he does not speak to anyone in his family. He was raised a Roman Catholic and his father is convinced that he has been brainwashed by a Buddhist cult. He has been a practicing Buddhist monk for over 15 years and is a travelling monk, which basically means that he only stays in temples for about 1 week to 10 days until he has to move on. He walks around every morning doing what is called "open arms" in which he goes around "taking donations" from people, in order to survive basically. We asked about eating and he is a vegetarian, as all Buddhists are and he cannot eat from the middle of the day until sunrise the next day, to which a nice snappy comment about Ramadan and Muslims followed. He must remain celibate and he told us a story about viewing an autopsy, which puts the human body into a perspective that it is nothing by skin and bones and organs and this seems to help him channel his sexual testosterone fueled energy into meditation and relinquishes him of any sexual desire...cue him starring at our chests during this conversation. He told us that all Buddhist monks view autopsies as a way of introducing a celibate lifestyle to their loins...interesting. We desperately tried to escape several times, but he just followed us down the street pontificating his racist soliloquies atop his soapbox and then an Indian man stopped right in front of us and stared PBMB down.........................................................long pause for effect...........................................Al and I kind of just stood there looking perplexed until the Indian man left. According to PBMB, this man follows him around on his bike trying to run him over and swats at him with his arms and other objects throughout the day...this led to a discussion about Hindus and people with mental illness issues who "freak out in the street and flail their arms about, but when it is time to cash their Social Security check (an American thing kind of like old giros), they can manage their behavior and this is all about prioritizing." Yes, I know, we were confused too, but felt a bit uncomfortable with such racist and judgmental speak! He basically said that anyone who does not agree with him or will not debate with his is afraid of his knowledge and is projecting their incompetence onto him. Now, call us crazy but we thought Buddhism was all about peace, harmony, living a life of tranquility and loving thy brother and sister, but like in all religions this is a farce. It would appear that despite the fact that on every street there is a Three's Company of Hindu Temples, a Buddhist Temples and a Muslim Mosques and on the surface all appears to be copacetic, there are entrenched belief systems and core racist feelings that are bubbling just beneath this plastic surface. And, unlike Three's Company the television show, these conflicts and beliefs do not lead to funny outtakes and a moralistic lesson at the end of each day. It would appear that even some of the most peaceful and harmless of religious men and women harbour some dark racist undertones beneath their colourful orange robes, hijabs and saris and would much prefer everyone to stay with their own kind and keep their belief systems to themselves. What an enlightening conversation.
He has seen us around, so he says and wants to teach us about meditation so we are on full avoidance alert mode and must dodge and weave our beloved Love Lane and find alternate routes to our hostel until we leave on Saturday morning...how do we always seem to get ourselves into these messes. In the mean time, we have a great hike all set up for tomorrow and will round the day of with a visit to the Chocolate Factory down the road from our hostel...that is if we can hide away from the angry Buddhist monk.