In Kuala Lumpur, the Federal capital, I spent a day with a Chinese salesman, allegedly speaking English. I hasten to add that I am certainly not presuming to criticise his English, which was considerably better than my Malay. In addition to these two languages, he spoke Thai and Cantonese, but he had thrown me badly for a start by telling me that he used to sell "weakles". After querying it twice, I had to pretend that I knew what he meant and had, in fact, been no mean "weakle" salesman myself. The mystery was not cleared until after lunch, when he said "motor-weakles", and by then I had another problem to solve because he said:
"Afternoon, we visit Jinnah's factory."
"Jinnah?"
"Yes — Jinnah's factory."
Jinnah, as the founder of Pakistan, I had heard of, but Jinnah in Malaysia? And with a factory? Surely this could not be right. On the way he referred to it again, this time as "the factory of Jinnah's Towt" — and sure enough, within minutes we had pulled up by a signboard saying: "Guinness Stout."
The following day I drove to Port Dickson, past plantations of rubber trees, weeping latex tears into cups strapped to their trunks, past plantations of oil Palms and through the most dense and luxuriant vegetation I had seen. In addition to oil refineries, Port Dickson has a beautiful beach fringed with palm trees, and a motel offering:
"Meals in the garden, with the birds to keep you company." Perhaps 'birds' is used colloquially, because the introductory message continues:
"The motel is quiet, select and discreet ... You can enjoy a weekend or a longer stay."