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Travel Review: Melaka, Malaysia

Nick Bourne taks a trip to Malaysia.

By Nick Bourne

24 Feb 2012, 13:54

On my recent trip to Malaysia, we decided to visit Melaka, a town located in the southern region of the Malaysian Peninsula which lies on the Straits of Malacca. It is approximately 150 km south east of Malaysia's capital city, Kuala Lumpur and is in the third smallest Malaysian state, also called Melaka.  One can reach there by car quite easily in just over an hour - unfortunately there is no train service from Kuala Lumpur to Melaka.  Few places conjure up the Far East so evocatively as Melaka or Malacca as it was before the wordsmiths of Malaysia got hold of it.   Legend says that the country got its name from Parameswara, a Sultan who was sheltering under a Malacca tree and who witnessed a generally timid mousedeer, kicking a dog into the river when it was cornered.   He named the town Malacca, after the Malacca tree which provided the excellent vantage point. The centuries old Malacca tree where Parameswara sheltered is apparently still flourishing and revered and the mousedeer is immortalised as an icon on the Melaka flag and Melaka's coat of arms.

Colonial masters from the Netherlands, Portugal and Britain ruled here and here the first Straits born Chinese settlers, made their homes adopting much of the local Malay custom, dress and cuisine with a slight Chinese twist.  Melaka is home to the largest section of the Peranakan - a blend of two major cultures where the people are ethnic Chinese but culture and language predominantly Malay-influenced. The Peranakan cuisine (known locally as Baba-Nyonya) is especially famed and our group was fortunate enough to secure a table in the courtyard of a typical Melaka Nonya house for signature dishes such as acar (a pickled vegetable dish) and Ayam Pong Teh (chicken casserole with salted brown-bean sauce generally served with potatoes) which represented a wonderful melange of Malay and Chinese cooking. Although the Peranakan food/culture is mostly known as a fusion of Chinese  (mostly from southern China - the Hokkien or Fujian clan) and Malay influence, it has also inevitably absorbed the nuances of its varied colonial past of a melting pot of Portuguese, Dutch, Indian and British cooking.  Many of its dishes that are pork based such as loh bak (delicately spiced minced pork roll and other delicacies deep fried and served with a special dipping sauce) and jiu hu char (diced turnips, carrots and other vegetables cooked with spices, minced pork and dried cuttlefish cut into strips) were as a result of its non Malay influence since pork is forbidden to the Malays.

 

Melaka, famed as a UNESCO world heritage site since July 2008, is also a modern city with more recent attractions.  We climbed to the famous Church of Saint Xavier and took a view of the town and area from the Melaka equivalent of the London Eye, walked around the centre of Melaka town through the throng of tourists to the square next to Christ Church which was populated by rickshaw owners with their vehicles that have been adorned heavily with artificial flowers, intertwined with strings of disco lights like twinkling Christmas lights.  Inveigled tourists are conveyed around the festive square or to nearby destinations to the beat of popular pop or rock songs and accompanied by the ringing of the bicycle bells of the rickshaw cyclists, all reverberating through the square like some rock festival.   Near the square, there is a paved pedestrian path next to the Melaka river which flows through the town.  When I first visited Melaka many years ago, the river was quite murky but with recent reclamation efforts, (like the River Thames) it is now teeming again with aquatic life.  It is now clean, the water has a nice emerald tinge and river cruises operate there now.  For a few ringgits, passengers on the flat bottomed fibre glass boats on the river cruise, whilst being serenaded with Malaysian folk songs will be able to get a feel of the multi-cultural and rich historical fabric of the country from the diverse architecture found along the Melaka river banks. Old buildings such as churches, temples, mosques, bridges, clan houses and warehouses can be viewed along the river.

We also decided to risk one of the modern attractions that have reached this place - a spa.   We could see through the shop windows, tanks housing a fish spa.   One of my group could not resist the atraction of the brown striped little doctor fish and we all decided to take the term "immersion" in the local culture literally.  There we were seated, feet gingerly immersed in tank esconced in the town centre shop window pour encourager les autres while hundreds of little brown fish swarmed over and nibbled at our feet - like in a live episode of I'm a celebrity, get me out of here!   The first moments were ticklish with the fish wriggling and nibbling between the toes but they certainly knew their job and the best way of getting their meals.   As one got beyond the tickling sensation, the feel of the fish slowly ministering to the feet was actually quite pleasant and revitalising. 

 

A near heart stopping moment was when in my tank, what I thought was a piece of large driftwood left in the aquarium, to make a more amenable home for the fish, suddenly moved and advanced menacingly towards my dangling feet, its intention clear.  It was, by comparison with the other fish, ginormous.   The black striped fish with an erect dorsal fin like a small shark also seemed really threatening and it looked as it would take a chunk of my feet or a toe with one bite.  Noting my consternation, my companions told me that this was called a bandaraya fish which was predominantly herbivorous (although as they wickedly said, there were exceptions, especially with my European complexion, my legs might be mistaken for tofu - charming!!).  I was then told that Bandaraya means Town Council, the authority responsible for clearing rubbish, hence the appropriate name for  this fish which would eat up all gunk and sediments in the water to keep it clean ... Great!  However, it proved a gentle leviathan and I could not distinguish its ministrations from the other hundreds of little fishes (especially with my eyes closed for the first few moments). 

 

Our fish pedicure done, we exited restored, contented, with feet tingling.  The fish seemed replete, the bandaraya fish reverted to its driftwood state till its next meal and the business owner looked happy as he pocketed our money - so everyone was happy!
 
From here we explored the many old Chinese temples in the town in Jonkers street which is particularly famous for its antiques shops.  Here in the shops,  you can still find some bargains although one has to look out carefully for those antiques which found their way through an aging process in a modern factory!   Some of the temples were very old.  The Cheng Hooon Teng Temple, a stone's throw away from Jonkers street is one of the oldest Buddhist Chinese temples in Malaysia having being constructed in 1646. The name roughly translates into ‘Temple of Evergreen Clouds’ and it was apparently constucted from building materials shipped directly from China.  Inside it reposes a statue of Kuan Yin (The Goddess of Mercy). The figurines, carvings and beautiful worked lacquer work and lattices in this temple make it outstanding. The temple was noted in the UNESCO list for the outstanding conservation work that has been done to this cultural building.

 

We then chanced upon another very old and smaller temple near one of the junctions of Jonkers Street.  A very mystical charm seem to envelop this temple which appeared to be wrapped up in serenity and peaceful tranquillity, next to a busy street.    We went in and were graciouslly invited by a devotee to have a dessert that she had prepared for the deities.  This is the kindness of strangers in Malaysia - a very inclusive, generous and gracious charm where lessons can be learned. 

 

Something in the temple ambience compelled us to have our fortunes foretold.  I followed the ritual of genuflecting, kneeling on the cushion and throwing 2 kidney shaped pieces of wood and seeing the way they ended up on the floor, then the shaking of scores of fortune sticks in an urn till the emergence of one stick - all these processes in front of the deities.   The stick with various engravings was then interpreted by one of the Chinese monks after consulting an old almanac.  Only one question was permitted per visit.   With all solemnity, after interpreting the engraving, I was promised great success after a short wait.  I am generally indifferent to such promises and soothsaying but yet there was something indefinable with this memorable encounter with destiny.   it is unsurprising that one of the most popular questions asked is about one's future spouse.   Another of my party was promised an ideal husband after a long wait. 

The temples themselves, bright in reds, terracotas, siennas and scarlets were havens of serenity and soothing with incense laden airs and embracing chants and mantras. We lingered long, asking many questions of our future but there was the siren call of a durian ice cream parlour.  Few Europeans love durian, the king of fruits, repelled by its overpoweringly pungent, acrid smell but I have been long converted to its heady charm.  The poor durian is badly discriminated against, banned on public transport and in hotels.  Durian parties are per force held al fresco but here, in its ice cream metamorphosed form could be experienced in the air conditioned cool of a parlour.  Other traditional snacks could also be purchased in this parlour, including the famous Portuguese egg tart.   The speciality of the shop which we went to, called Jonker 88 was durian cendol. The closest concoction here I can compare chendol to is the sundae.   Made with shaved ice, pieces of peanuts crisply roasted, mung beans cooked so that they softly explode in your mouth, strips of flavoured agar-agar, the signature al dente green noodle made with gram flour and topped with various flavored syrups. For durian chendol, this lavish creation is with a sumptious lashing of durian puree which adds to the richness of the taste. The very memory creates pangs of yearning or alternatively, a nauseating sense of sickness if you do not like durians.

 

Sated on ice cream we strolled through the brightly lit pasar malam or night market. I was delighted to find some beautiful sepia prints of old Malacca going for a song, now framed and hanging at home as a reminder of this wonderful town and country, eagerly awaiting my predicted success whilst my friend patiently awaits her promised bridegroom!