|
|
 |
Tale
Two - Hong Kong/Brunei (No one walks in this nation!) -
by Malik
This Travel Tale of mine picks up after my visit to Hong Kong
(Tale One - Hong Kong/Brunei-
Where there's a will, there's a way!) as I continue my travels
through Asia.
Three Days in Brunei
With their heads covered, they looked like students of King
Faisal University for Women. In fact, they were airhostesses
of Royal Air Brunei. In a world where dress is becoming brief,
transparent, skin-tight and provocative, the airline is following
the Islamic code of hijab. The guiding factor is modesty to
avoid flattery, sweet talk & entrapment.
The plane landed smoothly at Bandar Sri Begawan, the capital
city of Brunei Darussalam. Immigration and customs formalities
were brief and soon I was out of the airport terminal. I looked
for a bus or a minivan, but all I could see were Volvo or BMW
cars. I contacted Tourist Bureau and was advised to take a taxi
or wait for a bus. After about a one hour wait, I contacted
a cabbie. He asked for US$25 equivalent -- outrageous as the
city was hardly 8 kms away. I tried to beat it down, but met
a straight face. It was useless to try other taxi-drivers, no
one seemed interested. Finally, I played my Muslim Card and
spoke a few words in Arabic to establish my bona fide. He agreed
to reduce it by only two dollars, he needed money to feed his
two wives and seven children he told me.
The first thing I noticed was that the city was neat and clean,
the roads wide, signs in English, Arabic and Malay. The taxi
dropped me at Pusat Belia, the Youth Centre where I got a bed
in an air-conditioned dorm for US$6. The only other occupant
was a guy who had left Palestine long ago to settle in Libya
initially and later migrated to Australia. Though he had become
an Australian Citizen, he was still not contented. He had a
plan to move his family to Brunei, as he didn't like his daughters
growing up in a permissive society.
No One Walks in Brunei
When I stepped out of my hostel, I found the whole footpath
deserted. No one walks in this oil-wealthy nation. Brunei's
population (only 300,000) enjoys a high standard of living.
Most people have 4-wheel-drive vehicles and spacious houses.
Health facilities are free, as is education up to university
level.
From the covered walkway of Yayasan Complex, I saw a golden
dome dominating the skylines to the west and shanty-houses to
the east. The contrast was mind-boggling. First, l went to Sultan
Omar Ali Saifuddien Mosque. Inside, I noted the rich brass-framed
stainedglass windows and marble floors. The abolution area where
they washed before prayer, had been designed on the pattern
of a Roman bath. Leaving the mosque, I walked to the adjoining
village, a long stroll on the wooden walkways and bridges. Pleasantly,
what at first glance had looked like a cluster of shanty houses,
was in reality a Venice of the East. Called Kampung Ayer, it
was a conglomeration of water villages sitting on the stilts
in the Brunei River.
| Not
shanty houses at all- in reality, a Venice of the East! |
 |
The villages have electricity, fresh water, telephone and gas.
There were markets, mosques, schools, medical clinics, fire
and police stations. Private motorboats and water taxis negotiated
the labyrinthine waterways, at death defying speeds.
Many house-owners were sitting in their galleries with obvious
ease and pride. One, Sulaiman Abdul Kani, asked me to come in
for a cup of tea. The house was made of wood, bamboo and bark.
Inside a child played a game on the Internet, while an action-film
in English played on the TV. Soon, due to low tide, the area
was stinking. Sulaiman explained that they were used to it.
Many times he said, they had refused the opportunity to move.
Next day, I covered the most of the city on foot. Many times
a car stopped and offered me a lift, but I responded by "No
thanks" as I enjoyed walking. In the process, I visited
Brunei Museum and admired Islamic Art. Also, I went into the
Royal Regalia Building, which was full of a glittering array
of ceremonial regalia.
My stay had been limited to only three days. In fact, it was
no fun to stay any longer without a chauffeur-driven car. By
the evening, I was boarding a flight to Manila ... but that
is another story.
Submitted: 17 May 2002 |
|
BACK TO TRAVEL TALES
|
|
|
 |
 |
Malik - Pakistan
Travel tale author |
|
|
