A’Malaysian My story is spun from my experience

A'Malaysian Day' is not to be conceived as a day celebrated by Malaysians to symbolize any particularoccasion. Indeed it should denote a typical day of any Malaysian, a microcosm of what is in the daily life a Malaysian amidst the rapid developments in the urban areas and the well-conserved rural environment. My story is spun from my experience during a five-day holiday in Malaysia.
"You're going back to Malaysia", my parents announced unexpectedly, handing me air tickets, thus ending weeks of indecision as to where I was to spend my month-long winter break. I was to spend four days in Malaysia, my birth place, a place I hadn't seen in 16 years, since we moved to Birmingham.
Day 1All doubts seemed to fade however, as I stepped on board Malaysia Airlines aircraft. I was greeted warmly by the smiling kebaya-clad air stewardesses of the airline. Hours seemed to fly as the flight progressed, leaving London in the evening and arriving at dawn in Kuala Lumpur, the capital of Malaysia. I gazed out of the window, awed by the rolling acres of palm trees which sprawled over the humongous oil palm estates. We landed in the space-age designed Kuala Lumpur International Airport. After two hours of transit, I caught a connecting flight to Kuching, the capital of Sarawak, the southernstate situated in Borneo.
Greeted by my granddad at the airport, I was whisked away on a bumpy3-hour drive to Sri Aman, where I boarded a boat to Lemanak. Low hanging trees formed canopies at some parts of the river, emitting an eerie green glow as we manoeuvred our way along it. I dipped my hands into the murky brown river, only to be warned by the boatman that it was'infested' with crocodiles. Needless to say, my hands made a hasty retreat and I spent most of my time looking at croc-like logs drifting down the river. I arrived at the Iban longhouse, the traditional wooden home which sits on stilts. I was gr…