Well, after 39 long hours of transit between Terrace and Penang, we have finally found our feet and I have enough energy to make a post to the blog.  And by “found our feet” I mean we have developed rather tender pedal extremities after much walking around the lovely UNESCO world heritage corner of the city of Georgetown.

It’s hard to know quite where to start in an account of this place: the orderly traffic, the wonderful and extraordinarily varied architecture, the exquisite cuisine all vie for a mention, but really, more impressive than any of those is the ancient culture and tradition of inclusion.  

The mutual respect shown by one group to another here is extraordinary.  Muslims, Hindus, Christians and Buddhists do not simply tolerate each other, they appear to honour and respect the cultures other than their own.  On another vector of difference, Indians, Chinese and Malays seem almost proud of each other, proud of their true multiculturalism.  Missing is the slightly sneering disrespect we so often battle in Canada as we struggle to reach “tolerance”: in fact, the whole world could learn a big lesson from the Malaysians about actively celebrating diversity.

 The Masjid Kaptian Keling was built

the first mosque built by Indian Muslims:

its name honours a British Captain.

The historical feel is everywhere.

This trading entrepot sat at the crossroads of the world’s greatest and most powerful civilisations for centuries.  The rich and powerful here were among the richest and most powerful traders on the face of the earth for those centuries, and their mark has remained.

The homes they built and the objects they collected around them are often intact, and the streets are filled with museums, mansions, temples, churches, mosques and gardens built by the elite and maintained or renovated.

 Exquisite glass sculptures fill an entire room of a 

Baba-Noya trader's mansion: extraordinarily eclectic

collectors of the finest arts from around the world.

Once again, though, that gentle Eastern spirit is evident:  in one living museum people were allowed to touch objects, to sit on the elaborately inlaid and carved chairs of the privileged.  Here staircases were closed to the public by the simple expediency of placing a vase of flowers on the treads: no dire warnings, no security cameras, no uniformed compliance officers: just some delicate blooms.  

So we end our first days with delicate blooms.  And sore feet.