China

Beijing

Monster between cities, Beijing offers to the eyes a giant show of urbanism and colors. One thing that visitors- who want to know something about Beijing- should see is the view from the plane; when you travel by plane you can really see how big this city is. And this can offer you an image about where you are really going. From a plane you can see how the urbanization is shaped in Beijing: areas covered just by flats which have mostly the same shape but different colors. You can also see areas covered only by houses which are- how I could later discover- mostly in poor condition and pressed together in such a manner that those neighbors know everything about each other. But you can also find combination of huge flats with poor small houses, mixture which has not so many features common with some urbanization.

Another modern symbol is the new center which is created by skyscrapers and other buildings signed by the modern architecture. Skyscrapers are not so big like in Shanghai and Hong Kong but the city is growing up very fast and with it also is the number of new buildings.

Air pollution in the city during our stay in Beijing wasn’t that big as expected but still from plane was possible to see cloud which I can connect with fog but the difference is (as I know from Czech Republic or Norway that fog is white) but in Beijing it was always yellow.

Let’s move inside the city. After our arrival at the airport we took the bus to the city. When the bus arrived people were pushing each other as they wanted to get inside of the bus. During the way to the center of the city I had to sit on the floor of the bus.

When we arrived to a bus station near central railway station in front of the bus there were waiting few persons who offered travelers accommodation as close as possible. In first night we took some cheap hostel but next few days we had accommodation with one Chinese guy in his flat (guy that I met on Couch Surfing).

When we arrived to his house I was a little bit surprised that he lives alone and his home is so big when many bigger families have to live in small flats; but we were happy for this because it meant more space for us.

If you want to have a picture about how big is Beijing, imagine that if we wanted to get from our accommodation only to Central Railway Station which is near to the center of the city it took around 40 min. by metro; and if we wanted to get on the other side of the city it could have taken more than 2h by metro. When I’m talking about metro you have to know that this is the right place where you can feel the overpopulation in the city. When the metro arrives in the station it is hard to get inside metro but also out of the metro. Inside the metro you can feel like tuna in the can.

Living style in Beijing for me seemed quiet strange: flats everywhere; from plane how I said We could see many flats, but when you get in the city you think that there must be maybe 30 times more flats than you could see from the plane. Some people even if they live in the huge flats they have in front of them small cages with chickens or some other home-bred animals.

As well, drying clothes on the streets is a normal thing which We have never seen in Europe. Just imagine that you are driving a car on a big road with many lines and next to the road there are trees which are connected with ropes and on this ropes people dry clothes. So now you know that Chinese use every space in the city. I can say that actually Beijing is not such a modern city comparing to others. For me Beijing is a city created from Chinese villages where houses are pressed on each other with the only difference that they have access to hot water and sanitation but this doesn’t change the fact that inside their homes you can find a total mess. Yes, Chinese people don’t have such a big sense of clean household as western countries. Our sense of organization of our own things doesn’t say anything to them. You can find it maybe in educated families which are numerous in China but if we will think about how many people live in China the proportion is not in favor of this number.

Security in Chinese big cities is high and I can say that many times also annoying and this is the security that checks places like metro, train stations or some other areas where can be a lot of people together. Only when we wanted to get near the Forbidden City we had to pass through a small area we had four security checks which were as usually busy so we have spent also a long time waiting.

When we talked to some people they told us that they don’t understand why the security checks are such a big deal and what exactly the security guards are doing. Because many times when we went to the metro we just put our luggage inside the roentgen and person who was responsible to check the screen didn’t care about it. So it seems like that government is wasting money for some security which is not effective.

But on the other side, the Government manages in this way many working places for people. A city of 20 million inhabitants cannot provide jobs for all of them using just the help from investors, it needs to create also its own work places.

Also you can see in the city many workers who have to clean the streets sometimes you can even see that they are working in Chinese highways, work that has to be really dangerous. Nice thing is that you cannot find so many homeless because most of the people have job even those jobs which from outside seem a waste of money. But I don’t want to say that there are no homeless. Comparing with Prague there are not so many or at least is hard to find them.

Shanghai

(Shanghai as center of Chinese Economy)

Not an historical city but a rich city. Master piece which constitutes a symbol showing the growth from fishing village to a giant monster between cities. I cannot say that there is a difference between lives in Beijing and Shanghai. The advantage that Shanghai has comparing to other cities is the port and the sea which bring more goods from other countries. Nevertheless, the rest is similar to Beijing. Many constructions, poor parts separated jus by walls. Many poor parts in Shanghai are separated by walls from beautiful parts. When I was walking around one wall in a poor part at the end of the wall I arrived to a new street with beautiful shops.

Way in the train to Yunnan province

36 hours in the full Chinese train that was real experience. Because we wanted to save some money we chose hard seats in the train.

People were everywhere. Some of the people had ticket for standing as we discovered and that was the reason why the train was so full and carriages for sleeping were locked so all this people had to stay in the same carriages where hard seats were. I don’t know if I should say we were lucky or we had bad luck but around us was a Chinese family.

A grandmother and two married couples with four kids and between them there were always sitting some other two persons. And for these 11 persons plus Liga and I, there were 10 not so big and- I can say- hard seats. In front of me was sitting the grandmother which was always carrying one child and many times it was really annoying to have these two persons in front of me because the kid was always putting his legs in my space and the grandmother also. I felt like fish pressed very well in the can. Also if you travel a long way with the train you can see some advertisement in the train for selling some goods like special towels, energy banks for phones or some electronic devices or what looked special and have big

success was presenting a book for math. The promoter started to give passengers math exams and many people started to buy this book.

One week in the village

After the long way by train we arrived to Kunming capital city of Yunnan province.

We also visited HQ of HPP in China and with their help could get more experience between people; we spent two days in one city where we could see school for small kids who can learn English and we were also invited there for Chinese lunch. We could also try there to teach these small kids. It was nice because the kids were willing to learn English and I can also say that it gave me some ideas which I hope I can use in my project.

Another experience from Yunnan province is that Euclid and I spent one week in a village which is 40 minutes from Dali, being hosted by a local family. We could see how it looks in normal Chinese village how the life is going on there and we also tried to work in one of the many brick factories which were around the village and also, one day we went with the family to the mountains where they have tea fields and nut trees.

The paradox in the Chinese village is that buildings are very simple but sometimes you can find expensive car inside. But on the end of village there are the poorest people. Chinese houses in the village are very simple many times the rooms in the house are missing front wall so that some rooms are open and you can see inside if there is no wall around the house.

We had a beautiful room but with a bad odor. People in the village were mostly friendly and neighbors were visiting each other as they wanted. Small kids had fun seeing people like us in the village because most of them have never seen people from other parts of the world.

I remember when we arrived in the village in the first hour I smoked around five cigarettes because everybody we met gave us cigarettes. It looked like it is a Chinese hobby to smoke like mad. I didn’t see any woman smoking cigarettes, it seems like they are not allowed. It looked also like that man was the head of the family and had the only authority. We couldn’t see this exactly, but the woman in the family was doing almost everything: cooking, working, washing, taking care about home-bred animals.

As well, when we were in the brick factory and worked with them, women were working really hard. And some of them were older so I can say that Chinese women are really strong. We also went to see how the work in the mountains was.

The field of the family who hosted us was around 1h far from the village at the beginning of the mountains. During the walk there we could see other people from the village how they have to work. I was surprised how heavy were the boxes they have to carry up to the hills and that they have to bring up to the hills water in leather bags on the horses.

Is it Communism?

This is a good question: which system is working in China?! Is it Communism? I believe that people who have experience with communism, I mean people from countries which were under Soviet Union will say that there is no connection with communism. But censure is one of the biggest sign of communism as I know and I’m not talking only about blocked facebook or youtube but they are also checking the personal things which you can send from your PC.

When we were in village (we were there for one week) it looked that they don’t even care about the fact that they would be under communism.

The people that I could see there, looked as they had everything they needed. They wake up, go to work, work which maybe doesn’t even have some strict schedule after work at home, chat in the streets and that’s all. I didn’t even saw during this stay that somebody got angry.

People in the big cities for them have higher living conditions than the people in the villages and it makes them satisfied. It seemed that if they had enough electric devices they wouldn’t need anything else.

When you get in the metro you can see that 80% of the people are using smartphone and are playing games, listening music or watching videos. This is the way they make time pass faster. But 90% of them?

That is way too much people! I couldn't see this anywhere in Europe. I could see in Europe funny picture about what Chinese people do in the metro and there were five persons, two of them were playing with smart phone, one was reading a book, one was reading news and the last one was an old lady. But I have never seen anybody read a book in the metro and even old ladies were playing games on smartphones.

Hong Kong and Macau

Hong Kong and Macau are very interesting cities which are still somehow part of China but just because of their own government the living style is completely different. We could as well feel that the atmosphere in the streets is different, I don’t know why but we felt freer and also people were a bit different. Hong Kong in comparison with Shanghai looked for us more modern, even if Shanghai has a higher development index. Hong Kong looks newer and you can feel the influence of colonization from the British part. A city built especially for businessmen and the biggest and strongest economic companies in the world, Hong Kong is for China what the Western countries are for Europe. Main land China is like cities which are still in developing process but Hong Kong is fully developed and the poor parts are hidden very well that you cannot feel them. It is a city made for rich Chinese people who own flats here, go for shopping and enjoy typical western rich live. Huge buildings with the most famous and expensive brands for clothes or other fashionable brands as HUGO BOSS, CHANEL, LOUIS VOUITON, ROLEX and many others and rich Chinese are ready to stay in huge queues just to shop in this shops. When I was walking with the guy who hosted me during my first stay in Hong Kong he told me that these people are 90% Chinese and it is something when you have in front of the shop PRADA 60 persons waiting to get in this shop.

Macau is another interesting city which is not build that much for shopping and typical business but especially built again for rich Chinese which are coming here for another kind of fun. This kind of fun is now hazard and gambling in the casinos. Yes Macau is a city built mostly from the income brought by casinos. And life seems also different than life in China or Hong Kong. In Hong Kong you can see people with very nice fashion medium class cars, but Macau is fashion somewhere in the middle. I think I can say that I never saw so many expensive cars as in Macau, Ferrari, Lamborghini and many cars with very expensive tuning. Hong Kong and Macau- these two cities are good examples how you can build city with help of rich people- on one side, strong economies of the big international companies and money from Chinese people which are spent for shopping and on the second side is spending money for fun in casinos.

In these two cities there are also differences in what people do on the streets. I mean spitting on the ground, smoking or riding bicycle. These things are in many places forbidden. Also it is hard to find parts where people dry clothes in the streets. And population in these cities is multicultural. You can find many people from other countries.

Conclusion

It probably seems that this report is full of criticism but really I cannot imagine my life in China. There are so many things which don’t look good for me probably just thanks to the very fast development. I’m used to live in cities which don’t have a population counting more than 100 000 people and this is probably what makes China different. Being in the village for one week, living and experiencing with the locals was the best time spent in China.

Malaysia - A country with beautiful people

The first things I heard about Malaysia were not positive. A relatively high crime rate, a large number of tourists robbed, car crash, dirt and indifference. Moreover, Johor Bahru, the first town on the border, was known in the past as a vanity city, with mobs, gambling and prostitutes.

Fortunately, our statistics were old and in the meantime the situation had changed for the better. The government took action in eradicating corruption, imposing drastic laws and punishments, cleaned the country of mobs and prepared the city for a peaceful existence. Moreover, tourist programs have been successful, as 2014 is considered the year in which Malaysia brings the highest number of tourists in the country, giving all its best in terms of tradition, religion and beauty of the country and its people.

Thus, while fearfully reaching Malacca, a city which was declared a UNESCO World Heritage, our surprise was huge.

We met Howard by mistake, but we went to his house. He had a villa with 11 rooms where he was receiving tourists from all around the world at low prices. But this was not his main quality. In the eight days that we lived in one of his rooms, we became good friends. Howard is an open-minded person, friendly and eager to show to everyone that people of Malaysia are more than nice.

He invited us to have a lunch with his friends, sharing some of their traditions with us: how to prepare tea, how to wash the cutlery before the meal and their eating ritual.

In addition, I first entered the house of a man found in the lower strata of society with Howard. The house was simple, with Chinese signs at the entrance, a statue of Buddha and a special altar for prayer. It was consisted of a simple room for guests and a dormitory where the old woman was sleeping. Howard was careful that his mother did not miss anything, but the mother chose to live modestly, as she had done her entire life.

Then, Howard took us to visit a local market, away from the tourist area of the city. He explained to us that ordinary people gather weekly in the market for nutrition or for selling various products for locals.

There, friendly people made us feel the atmosphere of the place by giving us traditional dishes, telling us how they prepare them and by expressing joy and hospitality.

One evening, Howard told me that a family in the village remained homeless after a fire. I immediately asked what I could do to help them. We took his car and, after a long way in the night, we arrived at the house where those escaped from the calamity found refuge. When we

arrived, the firefighters had already left and despite the darkness we could distinguish somewhere nearby something what I suspected to be the remains of the house burned.

We did not spend too much time there. All that we did was to get those poor men and to go to Howard’s home. A child of about ten years with mental problems, a man that looked older than he was because of the hardships and misfortunes that he had to pass be and his wife, a lady who remained paralyzed because of the fear that she felt when she saw her house burning.

We went back to Howard’s home, where the generous man offered them a place to live. The next day, I went cycling with other people who wanted to help the family after we told them about the tragedy to buy food. Apart from the other persons that we took the day before, other three children and an aunt that were living in the same house arrived. They were away on the day of the fire and had the misfortune to come back and no longer find their house. Howard hosted everyone and bags full of food were offered by all who were mobilized for charity. Besides food, I felt the urge to offer a sum of money for the affected family. Words could not explain what I felt when I saw the father's eyes when he shook my hand. He was a man burdened with needs that had lost all his savings in a fire that became homeless with five children, among whom one had mental problems and a paralyzed wife. No matter how much money I would have given to them, it would not have been enough to give me a feeling of relief. However, people cried out of gratitude for any amount that they received.

Also in Malacca, we saw another face of the Islamic religion, which was nothing like the pictures full of malice that we had to see every day presented in the media. I was with Smaranda and Mark, and, as we were walking under the scorching sun, I saw a towering mosque few steps away from us. It took more than a moment to understand that my colleagues share the same desire to enter the courtyard of the mosque. Admittedly, it was impressively beautiful with its clear crystal waterfall that we saw glowing from the street. I slowly entered the yard and stared at the imposing building, when I heard a friendly voice that welcomed me inside the mosque. We all entered inside, but not before taking a coat suitable for Islamic ceremony.

The Mosque was gorgeous and smelled like peace and quietude and we walked with small steps in order not to disturb the tranquility from inside. Then, a middle-aged woman with a serene face approached us and told us that we could take pictures if we wanted. She stayed there looking at us with a friendly grin on her face, and after I asked her to take a picture with us to have it as a souvenir, she began to tell us about the real significance of Islam and the relationship between Christianity and the Islamic religion. She spoke with such warmth and love that I could not peel it long. So, I learned about Islam and about life in general and after an hour spent in the mosque I felt like an old friend of the community. After she told us everything everything that could be said about Islam and mosques, Norma (this was the name of the woman) invited us to sit with other members of the community, offered us as a gift an Islamic perfume and invited us to eat with them. We joined them and I was charmed by the friendliness and warmth that I felt from all those present. At one point, Norma sent someone to buy ice cream and served us with ice cream, while talking about the importance of accepting that you could make mistakes and the will to admit when you were wrong. That ice cream has meant a lot to us and I was impressed by the generosity with which we were accepted by the community. As we wanted to thank them, we found out that that day was very special for Muslims because it was a celebration. In fact, Norma and other community members were living in Kuala Lumpur and they t came just to visit in Malacca. We said goodbye to each other with friendly hugs, but not before we promised them a visit in Kuala Lumpur. Even after they left Malacca, we felt the warmth which welcomed us in our hearts and we put our little Islamic perfume bottles that were to remind us how friendly were the members of the Malay community with us in our backpacks.

We left Malacca after saying a hard goodbye to Howard and the grieving family, while thinking at the friends that we had made in the local community and the beautiful places we had been through. Nevertheless, we headed with big smiles on our faces to Kuala Lumpur, the meeting place of the entire team.

There followed three days full of joy and enthusiasm that we were all together again, each of us recounting stories from the road. It did not matter too much who, where and how it was, as each

of us wanted to do what the others did or at least to overcome the limits that he did not manage to pass over before.

Following the advice of the loved ones from Hornsjo, but also of Ole who came here to meet with us, we devised a new plan to try to accomplish more in the last weeks of the trip spent in Malaysia than during the whole journey. And I could say I did.

It is said that Cameron Highlands is a dream place. We have seen and can vouch for it. The huge mountains with forests, springs and rivers, the very diverse flora and fauna and the constantly serene sky, make this place a towering paradise of Malaysia.

As the place became more and more popular, fame went on to place as fast as investors began to buy land that indigenous people still spend their lives in tents far from civilization that they consider to be harmful . And as soon as the news went, the tourists invading the little paradise multiplied. The investments increased, living standards evolved and natives were forced to take their tents and to give the lands where generations lived before. And if all this would not have been enough, a government decision that is no longer recognized by anyone but nobody wants to cancel allows explorers to „invest in the area „by any methods. Thus, the forest is cut for wood, the mountain for stone, while houses, commercial complexes, hotels and gas stations are built in a large scale. All these are done in the name of attracting investments and tourists. Unfortunately, the abusive investment unstoppable now because lands have ghost owners, will completely destroy this place. Yes, it is true that Cameron Highlands is still a dream place. But in the next few decades it will become nothing but history. But, until then...

I got a local ride with Smaranda, Lili and Alina in the evening. It was very cold and the weather continued to cool down. I had been advised that in the area the temperatures fall down from 30 degrees during the day to just 2, 3 degrees at night. But we were armed with sleeping bags and prepared to sleep in the woods if necessary. But we were willing to fight to stay without being forced to choose a hotel resort. Remembering Norma and the fact that she told us to mention her name if we go to a mosque, we went to the only mosque that we found in the area and we mentioned her, relying on the fact that she was well-known all over the country. Thus, we went to talk with the people from the mosque and we agreed to get accommodation in a location of the church. Kind as they were, the people drove us cars a few miles away, where we were welcomed by other people and after carrying another discussion about our work as volunteers, we were offered a room. Unfortunately, after those who brought us left the place, the host came to us asking us an exorbitant amount of money for one night of accommodation. After we politely explained our situation, people seemed to have vanished and we did not manage to find them even when I went to look after them yelling. We did not meet them next day either and we left the house without managing to find someone to say goodbye to and to thank for hospitality. I deduced that they felt ashamed that they asked for money after we were brought there with the promise to get free hosting.

After leaving our first place to stay, we started to explore the surroundings. Thus, we woke up in a place full with strawberry farms. Trying to enjoy the red fruits, we were surprised to discover everywhere depleted stocks. All farms that we were had been selling their production of strawberries for the day first thing in the morning, most often on demand made a few days before. From place to place and in talking about, we managed to get into discussions with some local people and find out more about these farms. All belonged to the people around the place and they were opened and developed only on personal investments.

However, business became prosperous and experienced profit because that one was the only place from Malaysia where they grow strawberries. Fruits had three purposes: they were sold in large quantities for food companies, in small quantities to various local producers and what remained was processed into jams, compotes, natural products, which then were sold across the country. We did not get any strawberries for free, but they were offered for sale, even if they officially announced that the stock had been exhausted. We were allowed to visit the farm and then they told us how the simplest process that gave the best results worked (note and the photos that each plant has its own irrigation system that allows irrigation in controlled amounts by plant growth). That day was warm and sweet there in the mountains, but the real challenge was to come in the next days.

Although, I do not consider myself a very religious person , I felt a warm shiver that reminded me of home when I read on a plate of Tanah Rata town ( Queens of Cameron Highlands ), the place where we went to collect information about the life of local farmers, The Catholic Church. It was unbelievable that in a Muslim and Buddhist world, which seemed so far away from Europe, I found traces of Christianity. Yet so it was. I headed to the gate of that chapel with small steps, a little doubtful, but sure that there I would find something more than I was looking for. Near the entrance of the chapel, a man with a friendly voice asked me from what country I was. But I was scared and I rushed up, as if awakened from my dream state. I had not given any attention to that friendly, with curly black hair, tanned skin and eyes of an extraordinary clarity. A few hours later, after I choked fear and entered into conversation with him, I found out that his name was Father Eugene Benedict, priest of that parish. I searched for a few hours for the priest, asking for its address without knowing that I had actually talked to him. One of the people I asked one who worked to repair the church (I forgot to mention that the front part of the church resembled a building site) called the priest and so I had the chance to talk to the man to whom a few hours before I did not even answer the greeting. But he did not seem bothered by it. On the contrary, he received me with a warm smile and a familiarity like we were friends for a lifetime. Encouraged by his attitude, I began to talk to him about me and about the program, about the journey and what it means for me this travel. I said I wanted to go for answers about what it meant to be poor, to see hope in the eyes of poor people , to see how was the life of refugees and that I was not afraid to explore the world that so many people chose to ignore. Then, he offered me something that I would remain grateful for a lifetime: to accompany him in his visits he made weekly to immigrant families that were working in nearby farms and a school where their children learn. He suggested talking with other colleagues of mine who would be interested about and to meet in the afternoon in downtown, near the Indian restaurant nearby. I was anxiously waiting with my colleagues for the priest and he came with his car to pick us up. After we got in the car, Mr. Father asked us if we were to walk behind the main street. The question seemed to have no meaning and I answered honestly that I had not explored that area. Then, the father of the crankshaft on a street that leads behind the hotel and asked us to look at the alarming danger that threatens the region. After a seeming forest, a huge brown abyss in which they were immersed fifty cranes that were digging the ground that was part to the mountain few days before dominated the skyline.

Vali rushed to take some pictures, deeply impressed by what he saw. The priest explained that what we see is the site of a government project to build a new housing district with the price of cutting piece by piece large parts of mountain and forest deforestation. As all things were intertwined, employees who handle these machines were illegal immigrants from poorer nearby countries like Myanmar, Indonesia and Bangladesh. They had an extremely hard work that many of them end up in a car accident because they fell asleep at the wheel. So I found out that the priest is a passionate defender of the environment and sent numerous petitions to denounce illegal logging and the type of housing projects. After the visit to the site, we headed towards the school for refugee children. We found out that the school was founded five years ago at the initiative of Father Eugene and there, from Monday until Friday, 17 children aged 4 to 13 years studied. Although the school was recognized in 2011 by the UN, most of the funds came from the church and from contributions of $ 400 per month that parents pay to give their children the chance to study and have three meals daily. The school was a small building, dusty, near a Christian chapel, which consisted of a dormitory, a classroom, a tiny kitchen and a dining room. I could not get inside the dormitory, but I understood from the priest that children slept on wood, there as there were no mattresses or beds.

The classroom left a bitter taste to all of us, because there were only few old and dusty books, no toys and a little board that seemed sad in the whole ensemble. Just a dirty illustration with alphabet letters on the wall and a neatly written schedule of classes were giving little optimism to the empty and dusty room. But the kids were happy. The priest asked each of them to hold small conversations with us in English, and each, with small, large, came in front of us smiling and serene to shake hands and tell his name in English. Their joy made me cry even harder because these children, who proudly presented their blue UN backpacks were kids who could no longer return to their homeland and remained in the world without any protection. School was nursed by two teachers and the wife of one of them, dealing with cleaning and kitchen.

After about an hour we got in the car with a bitter taste, but still smiling, because these children had shown that we could smile and we went to a Burmese refugee center that was in our way. I took the opportunity and we asked what advantages did legal registration as a member of Chin refugee community bring , what one’s need to be registered and how dangerous it was to get from Myanmar in Malaysia. We found out that he spent 12 days in the jungle along with other refugees and one year in prison for illegal border passed in Malaysia; then, he paid a large sum of money to get his wife into Malaysia. We understood from him that this was the way in which all Chin refugees arrived in Malaysia, but the situation of conflict in the country forces them to resort to illegal border crossing. After one was accepted as member of the Chin refugee community, it passed at least one year to be registered by the UN. The process was very long, but it was their only chance. That was because this community could protect a member if its rights were infringed or was physically abused.

Then, the priest took us to a Burmese family. I did not know who was more scared: us or them, but I remember the efforts he made to made us feel at ease. He showed us their home kitchen, what they cooked and talked about their financial situation. There were two women and three men in a small house, poorly isolated. The husband of one of the women, who was also head of the family, showed us that he had a diploma received after graduating a course organized by the UN in the field, but he was working on a nearby farm and was sometimes dealing with the illegal cutting of trees to support his family. After a few minutes, we got in the car and we ventured with the priest through some rough roads to reach a flower farm managed by a family of Indonesians. I deduced that they were more fortunate than many of their nationals, as even if they stay in a shack iron, it was clean and spacious. There were seven men, a woman and a newborn, who I found out that, was declared by the priest in order to be registered. Probably that was a reason why they were friendly: they had a reason to celebrate.

Later still, in the hours of the night, we left the priest with a handshake and a great regret that the next day we had to leave Tanah Rata. I thanked him for the day he offered to me though the words were not enough for what I got. I was lucky that I met him, and for me, Father Eugene would remain a man that I would always admire.

Malaysia was surely a blessing for us: amazing places and beautiful people, simplicity and desire for life. Every man that we met, even by chance, gave us, first of all, regardless of his social condition, a smile. That smile was for us one step ahead!

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