My drivers and chariot

I have been fortunate in meeting wonderful people in Malaysia.  This week is no exception to that statement. After the miserable return caused by airline greed, it was nice to find people who made the return a bit smoother and definitely more amusing.

After only four hours of sleep, I limped out of bed at the hotel I managed to find, and and began the quest to find a way home. I knew I had to figure out a way that was easy and with the least amount vehicles (hopefully one) to get me home.  Momar came to mind. He was the driver I hired on my journey in November. He drove me from Kota Tinggi to JB to begin the trip.  His number neatly stored in my smart phone was found and sms sent early in the morning asking if he would consider coming to the hotel in Singapore to pick me up and take me home. I offered a price I was willing to pay. Within seconds I had a reply with a positive response. I was delighted, but wrote back to confirm that the price was accepted and the route was known. Yes to both.

Packed and waiting for the chariot, I sat in the lobby watching for his blue limo. Eventually, after a couple of sms advising that the causeway was jammed, a smiling face and waving arms greeted my watchful eyes - from a beige car. Who was this? Did I forgot what he looked like (I had only met him once) No, this was Momar. he dashed to me, shook my hand and wished me a Merry Christmas. Also a gesture that is not common here - Muslim men to not touch women - ever. And a greeting of Merry Christmas was extremely considerate.  Hmm, I asked where his blue car was. The reply was 'on the other side of the causeway.  Was it broken? Was he in an accident? Not a lot of information, but he and his friend Ibrihim, who I now met, began loading my bags into this new vehicle. It was clear these two were friends, and off we went on our mission to hit the border before the traffic increased to the 1,000,000 crossings in a short while.  The two kind of explained what was going on.  Seems Momar really does not know how to drive in Singapore but did not want to lose an opportunity to make some cash.  He also wants to learn so he can do this in the future. So, his good friend who does travel to Singapore knew where the hotel was and was enlisted to 'teach' Momar the route and how to get around Singapore.  Now I had two chariot drivers looking after me. They babbled in Basah Malay frequently and chatted with me as well.  Suddenly, the two of them asked me "what will you say at the border"?  I said I will tell the border officer that these two Muslim Men have abducted me and I cannot get away from them. We all laughter and they indicated that yes, it would look very much like that sort of situation and they wanted to be sure that we all would be on the same page. It was suggested that we would all say we are all friends. We are now.  Lots of laughs and some cautious looks from them fearing I might not be kidding.  It was at that time that I was reminded his name was Momar - not Zabri, which I kept calling him. Ibrahim looked at my passport and called me Frances Anne.  Like all Malaysians do because they do not understand surnames.  So once names established, the pace was again picked up and we neared the first border crossing. The first officials took a cautious look at all of us and caught my eye to be sure I looked like I was safe and comfortable with where I was and with whom. Then we were waved on to cross the bridge. Momar was now very confident and by the time we got to the second officer, in Malaysia, he was chatting him up in Basah Malay. I could make out a considerable amount of the conversation. He was telling the man where I live, that he has visited me there often, etc. (he picked me up once).  After smiles and laughs, we were again waved through.  Now, to Momar's car, and a transfer of luggage and back on the road again.  It was so much better than multiple taxis, or buses that meant up and down stairways at the borders carrying all my luggage.  Nice to be a local indeed.  As per usual, he then had me as a captive audience, and asked if I could tutor his kids in my spare time. I said I would talk with him after I begin work and see where that can fit in. Since that conversation I have been invited to the family home for lunch on Saturday.  And I will be sure to call him Momar.  At the transfer of luggage point I asked if I could take a photo of each of them and the cars. I have friends coming to visit me in February and a picture of the driver would be a nice way to find him at the Singapore airport which is probably larger than the whole city of Victoria. 'No No', said Momar, 'I will pick them up'. He obviously feels he will have a handle on the driving in Singapore before that date. If not, my friends will be 'in for' a very interesting introduction to my part of the world.
And my plants - they look better than they looked before I left. Ya, my new friend next door looked after them beautifully. Even put some of them outside the patio so others can enjoy their beauty as well.  The gardenia is flanked by a few others out in the direct sun where they have turned into small trees in only a month. Wise woman.  She and I had a long chat today, and she wants to cook Chinese food for me soon. I told her I need to drop some weight from all the noshing I did this past month. Her discrete eye travelled down my pudgy self and it was clear she agreed with this through her body language.  She is a vegetarian, so maybe just maybe I will learn a thing or three from her about good health. And that is what kind of day it was on my return.  I kept thinking it was Wednesday, but constantly was corrected it was Thursday. That international date line plays with your head - a day lost is something that does not compute well especially when you are weary in the first place.  Ah, yes, Gordie showed his face finally. Dancing around my computer area he bounded around the ceiling and wall and eventually onto the screen of the window where he could cool his little self in the soft tropical breeze - knowing he was safe and sound indoors with me.  Maybe I will go now and try to get a bit more shuteye (it is now4:41 am). I can be lulled to sleep by one of Gordie's cousins who lives outdoors down the street, in the jungle. I cannot explain it, but is is nice to be home.