One gets accustomed to overhearing other’s conversations.
Nah, too loud, others within earshot can hear, surely they weren’t sent by him.
‘They need to use their passports to come to Sarawak,’ says Desmond, ‘ and they only get three months. And if they want to work here, they need to apply for a permit.’
Desmond who runs a food court says that if anyone from Sarawak wants to go to West Malaysia, ‘all we need is our I.D. card.’
He says it’s one way for Borneo to deal with the rise of extremism.
‘It’s just too difficult for them to fly over and start trouble.’
Same applies to residents of Sabah, ‘they also must show their passports to enter and only get three months.’
It seems these measures were taken to prevent the entry of Philippine thugs who believe Sabah was once their land.
‘It was but it isn’t now. But they just don’t get it. So instead, they continue their piracy to the detriment of our island.’
At least from where I’m sitting, Borneo is pretty safe.
Ahh, the coffee is kicking in, I knew it would.
Two guys at the next table are talking in English and Malay.
It’s extraordinary, I think, as I anticipate that time when the caffeine will actually kick in shake off those the zombie feeling.
Being the walking dead has its advantages, but I couldn’t filter out the conversation next to me. It was just too interesting.
‘As my wife says, it’s a hot cold.’
Now what the fuck does that mean?
At first, I thought he said a hot hard one.
And once I got around to introducing myself, I actually told Jonathan that. He's a Chinese who runs a corporate real estate office here.
I’ve got the touch of bullshit about me.
Perfect for real estate, I say, imposing myself on their business meeting. The other guy was a dark-skinned Malay, immaculately groomed.
First, you need to set up a VOIP number from Australia, get the numbers from the Yellow Pages and then bingo bango, you got your slimy foot in the door.
Jonathan appreciated my upfront ness.
He told me he spent his last two years of high school in Melbourne, ‘then I continued studying at Melbourne University.’
Obviously he likes Australia.
How can I help you, I say. I’m a white guy with a white accent, do you want me to get on the horn and make some inquiries.
I had a five-day growth, was wearing a black T-shirt that wanted to go walkabout.
He handed me his card, all reverentially, and asked if I’d be at the same riverside cafe tomorrow.
Surely I would be, I said.
At last, someone who appreciates a bit of showmanship.
Man, the Chinese know how to make black coffee. Whatever anyone says about them, they can fuck off. Cos the black coffee just rocks and maybe have just got me into the exciting world of real estate.
“You really must love James Brooke,’ I said before my pals left to put their business meeting into practice. ‘I can see you are speaking to him and paying him respect by speaking English.’
Jonathan nodded. He wasn’t quite having an organism but I think I reached the right pitch for this dialogue to continue.
If you seeing me flogging condominiums, farms and industrial estates anytime soon, you’ll know the genesis of it.
Borneo: Everyone is thinking clearly. It must be the air, it’s clean.
Desmond from the food court lets me on a dirty secret.
He pulls out his phone and shows me a picture of a Thai whore is advertising her services on What’s App.
‘Fake,’ he says, ‘ fake boobs, fake nose, and fake personality.’
But the price she is charging for all this fakery is very exclusive, I say.
‘They follow the money,’ says Desmond.
They are always following the money.
Give me an Indonesian whore any day.
Desmond had to agree.
They were so much better.
That was something we both agreed on.
I had spent the last two hours showing Desmond the hot spots in Malaysia.
I could be bullshitting, I said.
‘And pigs could fly.’
I love it when a China Man takes me seriously.
‘To know your enemy is to be close to them.’
He was totally convinced that I was an old fart with nothing better to do than explore.
He spared me the orang-utan pitch.
I was grateful, thinking it was time to hang up my shoes and actually try a bit of real tourism for a change.
‘Where’s the fun in that?’
He had a good point. But where was the fun upsetting the Muslims?
’No worries,’ he says, ‘they are a minority here. If any trouble, the Christian Dyaks still know how to use a blowgun.’
Poisoned too.
‘It’s only a threat of excoriating death,’ he says, ‘Muslims don’t like headhunters who eat the liver of their enemies. It tends to calm them down when they settle in Borneo.’
Most of the mosques are on the other side of the river, far from the Chinese and the tourist haunts. I think the Muslims are treading very carefully in this part of the world.
‘Do you ever read about Churches burning?
Not in this part of the world.
‘Or crazy extremists hacking away Christians in their place of worship?’
Nope.
‘That’s what we call harmony around here.’
It was a harmonizing thought, a place where Muslims, Christians, and Buddhists could coexist together.
‘We even eat at the same places.’
This wasn’t the Malaysia I knew. I’m not sure what they put in the water but has a curative effect on extremism of any type.
I can see why Sarawak has thoughts of Independence.
‘We are sick of paying for lazy unproductive states. All our royalties should stay here for our own infrastructure.’
The rotting and decaying Observation platform opposite the Sarawak Club was a stark reminder of that.
‘Mainland Malaysia is robbing us dry.’
It was a familiar story. His gripe was real and I nodded in sympathy.
‘So how long are you staying?’ asked Desmond, who I could tell was sick of the usual tourist whose only concern was where they could find the cheapest room and an even cheaper bowl of Sarawak Laksa.
’As long as the stories flow,’ I said.
And they were flowing. I just don’twhy know people tell me shit.
‘So you can tell the world.’
I’ll try my best, I said.
‘That’s all you can do.’
He was reading my thoughts.
“You are safe here, but I can’t promise you’ll feel this safe in Sabah. They have their networks, one phone call and they’ll locate you.’
Stop fueling my paranoia.
‘It’s nothing to do with paranoia,' he says, it’s the way things are done. Being aware is the first step towards prevention of being liquidated.’
I was really liking where this conversation was going. I really was.
Desmond was right on one account, know they enemy intimately.
‘And somehow, anyhow, go around them,’ he says, 'it’s all we have. The Chinese are good at going around problems. So if we can’t confront them head on we’ll side skirt them.’
A middle finger to tyranny, now that was a good coffee thought.
Then a Thai ladyboy, big tits with nipples that said suck me, walked by. She even had a high forehead to match her very protruding hooters.The Malays sitting next to me went into a giggle fit.
Harmony, that's all we want around here.
