Rocket Man

After 10 gruelling days on the road in Malaysia, we were pleased as punch when we found some lovely kampung durians on sale at the highway stop at Pagoh, Johor, en route back home to Singapore. It's not even supposed to be durian season!!!!

An old Chinese man was standing just outside the perimeter of the rest stop, behind the Petronas station, with a basket of durians, yelling at us to go taste some.

While eating, we started chatting about life.

"Why are you selling durians behind the fence? Why don't you go sell inside the rest stop like the other fruit sellers?"
"You think it's so easy? The local authorities won't give me a license!"
"Why not?"
He pinched the leathery hide on his right forearm. "Warna kulit saya." (because of the colour of my skin).

Apparently all the licenses go to Malays.




"Are you and your motorbike here everyday?"
"Most days".

The divide is startling. Malay fruit sellers were sitting cosy inside the rest stop, while the Chinese durian uncle had to stand outside the perimeter, yelping at unsuspecting motorists.

"So, who did you vote for then?"
He gave us an incredulous stare, disappointed that we even had to ask.
"ZOOM!" He shouted, his left hand shooting up to the sky, his glazed eyes staring up to the heavens.
(the rocket is the symbol of the Democratic Action Party, one of the main opposition parties)

"Oh..well they lost in Johor this time"
"Yes," he snapped defiantly, "but they'll win soon, they'll win soon. The times are changing."