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November 21, 2003
The Cameron Highlands are a 60 km drive up mountains on dangerously
narrow winding roads on in central Malaysia. If you manage to notice as you whisk precariously close to swaying trucks and
avoid carsickness, the temperature drops a good 10-15 degrees Farenheight and the climate begins to resemble the Pacific Northwest
rather than the usual Southeast Asian hot stickiness. The mountains are densely crammed with all sorts of jungle-like trees,
ferns, and lichens, and strangely enough, many of the tourist buildings resemble ones you would find in the Alps or in the
British countryside. Im talking about whitewashing and exposed wood beams and chalet-like huts. Up here in the mountains are
tea plantations, vegetable farms, honeybee farms, and strawberries. Having always associated strawberries with Southern California,
this was a big surprise for me.
We finally found a place to stay in a town called Tanah Rata which is filled
with small dingy looking backpackers joints, internet cafes, and a Heritage Hotel. Guess where we stayed? Youre right, the
Heritage Hotel, our third Heritage of this trip (reminder, this is not a chain so this was pure chance). This time the Heritage
was a large hotel that reminded me of some of the ones I stayed at in Northern China- large marble foyer, nice but slightly
faded rooms.
The change in climate and scenery was just what I needed, but unfortunately
I got very sick right before we left for the highlands. In fact, Mom thought I might have come down with typhoid or a reaction
to the Hepatitus A virus (I already have the vaccine). I had a fever and a headache and severe bodyaches and a stomach ache.
This all added up to a fairly miserable me, though by now (this was a few days ago) I feel much better. I think it was the
fault of a rather nasty little clam I ate in Kuala Lumpur. Damn clam.
Other
than driving around windy roads, we went to a butterfly farm, a honeybee farm, and toured a tea plantation. The tea plantations
must be one of the last bastions of British colonialism. The one we visited was the Boh tea plantation, owned for the last
hundred years by a British family. This 230 hectare plantation, set in the steep hills, was a self contained community. The
workers live in blue painted huts in the middle of the plantation, with their own temple, school, and general store. I can
easily imagine that some of the children that are born here dont leave this place more than several times a year. The plantation
imports workers from Bangladesh and Indonesia on one or two year contracts. The tea plants are short and stout and much of
the tea is picked by hand. This is backbreaking labor since it requires stooping over and the plants are planted very steeply
on the mountainside. In fact, the mountains look like green tortoiseshells.
We had a great Indian meal at the neighboring town at a place called Shals.
Ive heard that the Indian food you get in Malaysia is better than what you get even in India, but I will find out for myself
in a few days! The food at Shals, however, was excellent despite me being quite sick and not able to eat much more than a
bit of Mulligatawny soup with rice served on a banana leaf. The soup had coconut in it, unusual for this type of soup and
Im sure not something my stomach thanked me for later. This place made great mango lassis, but they had a goat-ey aftertaste
that made it hard for me to drink more than a sip or two. The curries were served sizzling in large clay pots and the food
we ordered was more than enough for 6 people and we barely put a dent in it. The roti, however, was far inferior to that we
had at the Kuala Lumpur Heritage Restaurant.
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