Penang -- Week 9, Part 1 -- Wet Market

Week 9
FRIDAY, May 10th
Day 57
More workers. All of our borrowed (nasty) furniture is out and the place looks really bare. We have everything now except our sofa. That arrives tomorrow. Shanti and I have a good rhythm now I think. George is home and we decide to leave Regin with her while we go out for lunch. Oh gosh! That's so scary. Especially when I start thinking about how little we know about her!

We head to an Indian place for lunch. Apparently it's a muslim Indian place. It's Halal and closes for Friday prayer time. We stress to the guys there that I can't have even a smidge of sugar. They swear up and down and left and right that there is no sugar in the foods I've asked about. It's odd. This country seems more sugar-obsessed than the States, and their cookbooks are filled with recipes all containing at least a teaspoon of sugar, it's also really very difficult in the States to find foods prepared without the slightest bit of sugar. But everyone here swears they don't use sugar (unless it's a sweet dish). How can that be? I'm not sure how many marinades I've come across in my life that didn't have sugar, and even the marinated steaks supposedly don't have sugar.

When talking with this guy, George becomes agitated and insists that his foods contain sugar. I tell George to relax. Even if the naan recipes I've seen call for sugar, that doesn't mean these guys definitely make it with sugar. I can't have naan anyway, because of the white flour.

I choose my dish, which comes with a salad, and I order some veggies on the side. I ask one of the guys to make sure my salad is without dressing, he says no problem. The food arrives. There is a sweet dipping sauce, and the salad is cole slaw -- a common side salad in these parts. To be sure, I ask if that's my salad. It is. Of course it's totally drowning in mayo (which has sugar) and probably has some extra sugar added. The original guy we spoke with comes running over at one point to let me know that the cole slaw has sugar. I eat the chicken and veggies. It's delicious, but I'm still skeptical. Sad thing is, even if I crash later, I can't be sure it's because of this.

I'm almost running back home after lunch, convinced that Shanti has made off with my son. I thought the same thing the first time I left him with our (temporary) nanny in the States. Naturally, he's fine. He's napping. When he wakes up from his nap again, he rests his head comfortably on her shoulder. He's totally at ease with her, and it's comforting to see.

We're busy setting up our office now. It's been a wreck, but now that we have some IKEA desks and chairs, it's slowly becoming a usable wreck. I haven't put that much thought into the design of this room. But when I see it all in there together, I'm totally loving it and glad that it came out just as I had pictured. Something that is going to be difficult after we leave this place is leaving all of our new furniture and things we can't afford to bring with us. I feel like I've really had a blank canvas with this place and it's starting to reflect me. Don't get me wrong, it's not like we don't still have some of the less-than-perfect furniture that came with the apartment. That's in the bedrooms. And the kitchen and bathrooms are still an utter embarrassment. But between my vistas and my airy white-on-white decor in the living/dining room and now my dark brown-red-white scheme in the office, I feel that I'm expressing myself more with decor than I have in a while.

In the evening, my boys have some fun with IKEA boxes.
George tries to build a play house, but Regin is more interested in tearing it down...

SATURDAY
We decide to go check out the wet market. We plan to leave first thing when we wake up, but we end up (as usual) struggling to get out by 10:30. It's already murderously hot, but the market is still there! We walk through some side streets and I stop to take photos with George's iPhone -- the memory card on my camera is all full!
You really can't believe the prevalence of mopeds and motorbikes here unless you see it with your own eyes.
The market itself is reminiscent of the fish market in Tokyo, only there isn't that much fish. There is fair bit of meat, but it's mostly fruit and vegetables. There is also a stall or two of flowers, and some people specializing in herbs and spices. What a treat! The fruits and vegetables look amazingly fresh and succulent, with wildly vibrant colors.
And there are several items we've never seen before like these enormous beans/peas!?! Those pods are about 1-1.5 feet long.

I'm almost depressed that we did all of our grocery shopping yesterday at the supermarket, and now I only have the excuse to buy cilantro (coriander), celery, squash (pumpkin), papaya, and bananas. I also pick up a newspaper -- need to start learning more about local politics and such.

It's funny. Before this trip to the wet market, I couldn't understand why it was so vital to go, and why anyone would bother trying to make it there instead of just going to the supermarket. Now I'm wondering why anyone would bother going to the supermarket instead of going to the wet market!

The afternoon and evening aren't quite as fun. We're expecting our sofa to be delivered, and so we stay home all afternoon/evening to make sure we're there -- there are very few assurances and guarantees here for customers, and I'd hate for them to say we missed out or something, because we weren't there to receive the delivery. But the delivery doesn't come! We call over and over again. At 10pm they're still claiming it's coming, but then finally they say it'll come on Monday instead. They claim it's because the delivery guys are overworked and have too many deliveries to make. That's crap. The truck drivers had called us a couple of times, but couldn't speak English, so George ran down to the guard at the gate for translation. They couldn't find us, so they skipped us, went somewhere else, and didn't come back. We'll see about that Monday delivery.

I'm starting to wish we'd made a down payment on the sofa instead of paying upfront. We're angry, but what can we do? I have to remind George of our cultural training when he is on the phone with them. His tone has gotten pretty intense, and we're told that if they can tell you are agitated, they will only make your life more difficult in passive aggressive ways. That is their way of avoiding confrontation or expressing too much emotion. George sweetens his tone, but it doesn't help us get our furniture tonight.

In the evening, we watch LOST, on George's laptop, in our office. It's OK though. We may be sofa-less, but we're sitting in our new, funky office chairs.