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This is Malaysia, not your own country….

I live in a place where many foreigners like to populate. This is turning into another Desa Sri Hartamas. Must be something the govt worked out or perhaps it’s the offers by the developers or management companies. Give me two minutes to figure out how to write this without me sounding like a nun…. OK. Like this. This is Malaysia and we have comparatively stringent and restrictive laws about showing too much skin, or being overly sexually expressive with the opposite sex. Generally speaking, excessive touching and oral exchange of bodily fluid is acceptable, most of the time, behind closed doors…which also includes under the influence of alcohol provided you’re not behind the wheel. That one, another funky story. In pubs, in alleyways and in stairwells, you have all these desperate pubescent kissing up a storm and going on a touching rampage while adrenaline and hormones scorch their nerve endings. Some do the deed, some don’t. In short, if you’re not drinking in a night spot or hidden behind closed doors, kissy-touchy stuff is no-no. And don’t you think people would have the decency to act a little bit more respectable when there are kids around? No? My kids are not yet in their teens but trust me, I have been inundated with their questions relating to the opposite sex and one particular disturbing question that goes something like this. How did you actually make me? (Came from younger son) So, technically, answers like ‘you burst out from a rock’, the ‘stock dropped you’ or ‘you just appeared out of nowhere’ is not going to work now. They curious....really, REALLY curious and I would like to keep them away from this topic until at least the time they're ready to get married or when they discover the whole process for themselves. I’ve explained the birds and bees! I have! But maybe they just want me to BLOODDY REPEAT IT AGAIN for the sake of seeing me turn red in the face and squirm. And it doesn’t help when these foreigners living in my condo are so….liberal with their dressing and behavior. One lady was wearing a camisole about 20 sizes too small for her that it literally looked like a bra on her…like she’s walking around in a bra and her jeans! And her boobs were spilling out…the faint sign of her areola peeking out from the top of her camisole. (I can see you guys rubbing your hands together. DOWN, boy, DOWN!!!) I can’t imagine her finding a bra her size here in Malaysia….totally. And then in the swimming pool….sigh…..what can I say? If we were not there, I don’t think these few people would have stopped at just sneaking their hands into each others’ swimwear! I tried to shoot daggers at them with my eyes but missed miserably. The couples had eyes only for each others’ (privates). Dragging the kids to the other end of the pool didn’t help because my cheeky kids would try to sneak their way back to the other end of the pool when I try to do a lap. So, I stopped doing laps, sat there and watched over my kids while they watched the grope-fest. I mean, if there are kids in the pool, don’t you think these people should at least bring their grope-festival upstairs or at least hide behind one of those huge pine trees or something?

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