Dealing with Pos Malaysia

  

   

Thursday, June 17

An article in today’s papers from Australia makes uncomfortable reading. 

The account of the report by the Human Rights and Equal Opportunity Commission which found Muslim women and girls in Australia are the targets of increasing vilification is disturbing.  I can only imagine how difficult it is for these women to go about their daily lives;  I am an outsider here in Malaysia, but I have never been on the receiving end of the same sort of treatment as that being dished out to these people in Australia.

Certainly, I am an object of curiosity at times, but it has never been malign.

If it becomes generally known here that Muslim women are subjected to that treatment in Australia simply because they wear the identifying hijab, it would be understandable if foreigners here were castigated in retaliation.

I hope it doesn’t come to that.

(later)

What a frustrating day – we had received notification that a package was waiting for us at the Pos Malaysia courier service at KL International Airport.  When I say “received notification”, that’s a bit too strong – a form arrived, totally in Berhasa Melayu (admittedly, the official language), telling us something: what, I wasn’t sure. 

With the aid of the hotel reception and some of David’s co-workers, we translated the document, which outlined our various options for taking delivery of the package.  We have a fair idea of what it contains: it should be a GPS device Dave ordered from a Brisbane electronics shop.  Because it is a commercial transaction, it is obviously being held in Customs (although it doesn’t say that).

So, I optimistically thought if I fronted out to the ‘Komplex Kargo’ at KLIA, I would be able to pay the import duty or get them to waive the duty and take delivery.

If only it was as straightforward as that.  What happened was:

  1. 11am: train out to KLIA

  2. be told that the Kargo Komplex, although at KLIA, is reachable by road only by a further 15km trip.  No bus. Fixed fare in a taxi: RM50.  Price to go there, wait and then go back to the CBD – about RM170. No way, José.

  3. Advised not to go there, as it was nearly noon, and “they probably wouldn’t be able to help you until after 2 o’clock, because it is lunchtime”.

  4. “After 2 o’clock, it would probably only take an hour or so for them to find the package.  Maybe a little longer”.  An hour or so??

  5. Spat the dummy, and took the train back to KL, minus the package.

  6. Rang the Komplex Kargo from our hotel.  No answer – lunchtime.

  7. Ticked the box on the form asking for Pos Malaysia courier service to deliver the item to our hotel, when we will pay whatever exorbitant fee they will probably have imposed.

  8. Decided to fax the form back to Pos Malaysia, with (probably) the right boxes ticked, and asking for a waiver of any import duties since the item will be taken out of Malaysia again with three months (this is apparently the critical period, according to the Customs’ website).

  9. 2.30pm.  Rang the Komplex Kargo to check if faxing was the right thing to do, still no answer.

  10. 2.50pm. Tried again – no answer

  11. 2.53pm Tore hair out.

(later again)

I finally plucked up the stamina to try Pos Malaysia again, and this time, spoke to a very charming man, a Mr Lee.  He told me he had received my fax but that it would take at least two days for delivery, which is OK with me.  The actual amount of import duty would be up to Customs, he said,  but I was not to worry – and he welcomed me to Malaysia!

Friday, June 18

Finding it hard to get motivated today – there’s a few errands to run, but I am putting off thinking about them. 

It appears I have caught a Malaysian disease – procrastination, which according to the other guys, is widespread here.  Perhaps the workers they are dealing with have been cushioned for too long, and now they are coming face-to-face with the realities of global business, as instigated by Americans, and they don’t like it one bit.  Of course, it is relevant they are paid only a fraction of what the highly-paid imported staff is.  And they know it too, a knowledge which would not inspire one to work 12-14 hour days. 

DB tells me the ex-pats’ daily out-of-pocket living allowance for sundry expenses (which they get in addition to their salaries and having other costs such as hotel bills met) exceeds the total salary the locals get.  No wonder they are resentful.  At the same time, the locals would have to concede they don’t as yet have the skills required of them.  So they are really under pressure.

***

Brooke just text-messaged me to say she’s arrived in Bangkok, but desperately needs a shower!

***

I must spend some time today checking out our maps for our weekend drive – it will help if I know the way out of the city to the east coast, a direction I’ve never headed in before.  It would have been good to have had the GPS to take on this trip, a new little computer gadget for Dave and Rob to play with.  Oh well.

Saturday, June 19

Now I’ve heard everything.  Last night, at a nearby French restaurant, I thought I heard a familiar tune in the background, so I listened closely, only to hear a French rendition of Waltzing Matilda!  Very Frenchified version, sung by Yves Montand, a Gallic film star of many decades ago. 

The restaurant’s owner brought us over the soundtrack CD, and sure enough, there was a track called “Mathilde”.

When I arrived back at our apartment, I turned to the Internet for more information on this version, only to find that credit for having written it was given to another Frenchman, Francis Lemarque, who allegedly composed “Mathilde” in 1946.  Talk about plagiarism!  He didn’t even change the name.  However, he may have had to re-write the lyrics – a song about a suicidal sheep-stealing swaggie wouldn’t have much relevance in French culture.

Anyhow, we are now off for the weekend to parts unknown (at least, to us).

Continue