Get Giddy in the City - the George Town Symphony (Part Four - Finale)
Instructed by a Certain President of a Foundation Supporting Local Artists in How To Feel Like a Native Penangite, and Inspired by 'Kapten Bas' Suhail Bin Abu Baker To Marry the Indian Ocean at Once
Today’s post continues the story of how it is to get out of a month of silence and right into a buzz of excitement of a multicultural entertainment centre that George Town on the Island of Penang certainly is.
I wrote the four-piece symphony on July 28, 2018 and it is now part of Other Eyes for Johnny Rocco in the chapter:
George’s Marvellous Medicine: a pint of Tamil adrenaline, a sniff of a grimy latrine, a quart of Malay idle gene, a pinch of Penang cuisine and lots before, after and in-between.
The music was composed by Ravi Shankar and is performed by his daughter Anoushka Shankar with London Philharmonic Orchestra.
On my way to the bus stop, I get accosted by a very iconic President of a Foundation Supporting Local Artists. He extends his invitation onto the terrace of his wife’s eatery, which is also a front gate to his backyard gallery. ‘But of course, Mr President’, I smile and sit with him.
Soon, I am not only filled to capacity with mackerel, vermicelli, tamarind, lemongrass, galangal, dried slices of sour mangosteen, mint, pineapple and torch ginger with an admixture of hae ko (蝦膏)* in my delicious Laksa Pulau Pinang**, but I am also full of a sense of how it feels to be a native Penangite.
Before my laksa lands on the table, I learn about the distribution of votes between the fundamentalist southeast and the liberal northwest. It immediately reminds me of the venomous wedge that has been sledgehammered right across the heart of my darling country all along its southeast-northwest demarcation, so I make Mr President of the Foundation Supporting Local Artists well aware of the burning pain in the Polish arse as well.
Then, I learn about how Malaysians feel about their Singaporean brothers, whom they unceremoniously kicked out of the Kingdom of Malaysia in 1965. We sort of agree that the black sheep is several corners ahead, but Mr President adds that ‘at least everything is so much more expensive down there than up here’ and that ‘Singapore is such a small and crowded place, isn’t?’ I think of Mark Twain for a moment and tell Mr President that ’it’s not the size of the dog in the fight that counts, but the size of the fight in the dog that wins’***. He ponders Twain’s words for a while, smacks his lips twice and starts talking about art instead.
This way, I learn about artistic events and street art on the island of Penang,
about the upcoming festivals as well as about Mr President’s share in the illuminated street-art project that he is directly accountable for.
I say that the post-colonial heart of Mr President’s city is unrivaled by anywhere I have been before, that I would like to stay longer, preferably forever and that I have always wanted to be part of the liberal crowd. The president asks: ’Why can’t you?’ and now I smack my lips twice and change the topic.
I ask about ethnic distribution in one of my favourite cities in the world. I learn about the shapes of facades and ingredients in bowls and on plates depending on where you are in the city, but also about how his wife keeps travelling to London at the turn of November and December every year, as well as about her Malay background with Chinese admixture reflected in the ingredients of my Laksa Pulau Pinang.
Over coffee, we touch upon his perception of Poles and my perception of Malaysians. He knows about us Poles much more than expected, so we go far beyond Lech Wałęsa and John Paul II. I only know about Malaysia's number one export: Michelle Yeoh, so Mr President smacks his lips twice and finally points to the oncoming bus 101 to Batu Ferringhi.
On the bus, Kapten Bas Suhail Bin Abu Baker eccentrically refuses to deal with petty cash. ‘Either exact change or no beach on this lovely, sunny day, sir!’, he says. Everyone but me seems to know about Kapten’s unorthodox fancy. I begin poking around in my travel companions’ wallets and swapping banknotes for coins. The Kapten is patiently waiting and the bas won’t budge. Fortunately, local residents are very well prepared for the unwritten quirks of their kaptens, so just in case, they weigh down their wallets with unusual volume of mintage.
Next time, I promise to be stuffed with a wealth of baby ringgits. I will dutifully sit next to my Kapten on another bas and will work off my karma by helping out erring unawares like myself.
I soon learn that we will traverse the nearly 20 km of Northern Penang on Kapten Bas Abu Baker’s air-conditioned deck for paltry 60 cents. No wonder he dodges onboard counting and totalling if the total is hardly motivational.
Some miles away from George Town, at the latitude of Jalan Pantanau Batu, as soon as the Kapten has sniffed the ocean azure, he starts vigorously trampling on gas and brake pedals for no reason really.
‘May he be as desperate as myself to dip his enervated body in the endless depths of the Indian Ocean?’, I ask in silence. He may well be, because he looks like he wants to slam the bas door from the outside and ostentatiously leave this congregation of petty cash magpies.
‘Yes, Kapten Bas Suhail Bin Abu Baker,
when the ocean comes to you as a lover,
marry at once, quickly,
for God's sake!
Don't postpone it!’****,
I whisper on my way off the bus and run straight into the huge waves of the Indian Ocean!
* President’s wife’s laksa features an admixture of hae ko (蝦膏), which is a thick, sweet shrimp paste. It makes it special among other laksas, as well as makes the President extremely proud of his wife.
** Laksa is a spicy noodle dish popular in Southeast Asia. Laksa Pulau Pinang, also known as Asam Laksa, is a specialty of the Malaysian island of Penang. The soup is made with mackerel and its main distinguishing feature is the asam or tamarind which gives the soup a sour and appetizing taste. Other ingredients that give Penang Laksa its distinctive flavour include mint, pineapple slices and otak udang (Wikipedia).
*** In fact, this quote doesn’t originate from Mark Twain as I mistakenly thought on Mr President’s terrace. It was first printed in the April 1911 issue of Book of the Royal Blue by Arthur G. Lewis, a relatively anonymous travel agent from Norfolk, Virginia (https://marktwainstudies.com/fightinthedog/).
**** ”The Seed Market” cf. Coleman Barks, The Essential Rumi, HarperOne, 2004.
This concludes the four-piece George Town symphony:
Get Giddy in the City - the George Town Symphony (Part One- Scherzo)
Get Giddy in the City - the George Town Symphony (Part Two - Allegro)
Get Giddy in the City - the George Town Symphony (Part Three - Lento)
Get Giddy in the City - the George Town Symphony (Part Four - Finale)
Below is the whole thing performed by Asian Cultural Symphony Orchestra and conducted by Adrian Chiang. Krsna Tan plays the sitar and Govin Tan the tabla.
I would like to thank the Shankar family for this divine music by posting a fragment of Anoushka performing her father’s Concerto for Sitar and Orchestra No. 2 “Raga-Mālā” with Berliner Philharmoniker:
Also, my story continues well until after dark on and around the beach of Batu Ferringhi. I am not going to post it here now, but let yet another piece of great music by Anoushka Shankar illustrate the rest of the day:
Today’s Symphony: IV. Finale - Banjara also illustrates a Singapore chapter in Other Eyes for Johnny Rocco. It is called Lee Kuan Yew’s Savory Spice Blend and because of Banjara, it will feature in next week’s newsletter.
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