Rubber and Plastic

One does not get an ear bent down low like this too often. Two step: turning the head for the order, then lowering and grimacing. A few minutes before the clouds had opened properly. En route during the bus-ride it had been only drizzle, the lowest speed on the wipers (intermittent likely unavailable on that old model). The chap did not fancy his chances in this communication.
         A Tamil place. Chap spoke a little English. Directly opposite Hotel Mersing, chosen in preference to Hideo's old hang-out the Embassy, largely on the basis of the flimsy interior snib on the lock of the room of the latter. Hideo's mention of the Swede killed at the Embassy some time ago did not inspire confidence either.
         Teh tarik, kurang manis brought a smile. Easy after all. No need for all that anxiety man.
         Good to see the electrifying thunder crack during the earlier food order had the chaps squirming momentarily as much as the newcomer.
         Regular plumbing maintenance needed for downpours of this scale. The dripping electrical wires didn't inspire confidence either. What did inspire confidence was the broad smiling all sides.
         Yes, Tamil speakers at Restoran Al Hamid opposite the hotel. A Madrassi bending the ear. Took a while to establish, but we got there in the end. The panama possibly part to blame; chap had been looking harder than listening.
         Mersing. East coast of Johor State, Malaysia. The eastern side drew much less interest from the Brits, the Dutch, Portuguese and other marauders, peace-deliverers, traders and civilizers. Almost next to nothing known about the place. Some while ago Hideo, staying and writing at the Embassy, had found refuge here at a place he looked back upon as one of the sweetest in the world. (It had changed since apparently.) Quite enough recommendation. A Hokkaido fisherman laying eyes on the river and the old boats moored in the mud tied to trees might have instantly had the heart-strings tugged. The larger craft recalled the Indonesian asylum boats that have been sinking down in the south a number of years now. The Californian Buddhist monk met in Geylang raised Mersing as a worthwhile destination too. Confirmation, if any was needed.
         Most visitors come to Mersing for the ferry to the Tioman Islands — snorkeling, diving, beach resorts. No thanks.  Rawa Island where Shai had worked — Kota Bahru Shai, also met in Geylang — lay even closer. According to Shai, Rawa was a stronger draw on the tourist map, particularly for surfers, Scandinavians a large contingent. Thus far though it has been only Tioman signs calling out on all sides through the streets. On getting down from the bus the driver had asked twice whether Tioman was wanted. The smaller waiting bus must have been the link to the Ferry terminal.
         Two hours out of JB. The sign for the Ponderosa Golf Course and Country Club caught out of the corner of the eye about a half hour out couldn't be trusted on a fleeting glimpse. One of the new housing estates possibly. (Google subsequently proved the case. Had time allowed the clubhouse at the very least ought to have been inspected. Were Pa Cartwright and the lads over the fireplace — or beside the aircon perhaps?) Palm oil plantations again. The Sultan of Johor must have cornered the market in this part of the world.  Surprising the very few settlements visible along the road. The tall, slender trees with a look of olives about them must have been rubber. From Primary School days the memory of pictures of trees holding small cups tied to the trunks.
         The size of the Indian presence in these parts always recalls the British. The Chinese should do the same of course, coolie labour both. The former however was a more specific project tailored to the new plantations, just like in southern Africa.
         Russel Wallace, Darwin's friend and fellow naturalist, who came to similar conclusions on evolution more or less simultaneously, makes fascinating reading on these same parts where he traveled one hundred and fifty years ago. In the recent chapter on Java Wallace reflects on the secret of effective colonial administration, which he credits the Dutch for first developing. The opium recourse to stimulate earnest labour in the natives was nothing like as good as the credit bait, Wallace held. By enslaving the population with the extension of compounding credit you have thereby grasped a goodly stick with which to beat them. Hey presto! a disciplined, reliable workforce. The Malays were inclined to idleness otherwise, Wallace observed. (Dispensing justice and fair-dealing as part of the bargain oils the machinery.) As the old adage suggests, in writing and thinking about the past one always writes and thinks of the present of course.