I'm presently writing to you from a PC in a Malaysian hostel. I am putting this piece together in MS Notepad, as this computer's MS Word program takes every word I write in English and transforms it into a series of crazy Chinese characters. No time to dwell on that, though. I am also 12 hours ahead of you all. So far, the day has been pretty good, but I'll let you decide for yourself.
First of all, it's my friend's 21st back there in Charlottesville. In honor of this, we left the port city of Georgetown this morning, taking a ferry, a bus, another ferry and a cab before arriving at the lovely Pangkor Island. Total cost of this? Something like $10. Malaysia doesn't have that weak of an economy -- they just know how to be reasonable.
To be honest, I really don't know where we are in relation to anything else geographically, except that we're somewhere roughly near Australia, or maybe Austria. And there are poisonous snakes in the ocean. But the water's really, really warm!
As I was saying, things around here are very affordable. Honestly, aside from plane tickets (and even those are as low as $15, depending on how far you need to go), everything costs less the farther east you travel past Europe. This, of course, is as much a numerical truth as it is a matter of conception: Once we're told the conversion rate for whichever port we've just arrived at, I find myself constantly dividing prices in my head by two (Brazil), seven (South Africa), 32 (Mauritius), 44 (India) or 3½ (Malaysia) to figure out how many dollars something's going to cost me. I know our own economy has had its highs and lows recently or something (I don't actually pay attention to it in the slightest), but no matter how you slice it, I will never think of five lousy bucks as just five lousy bucks ever again. From what I understand, our currency carries even more sway in Vietnam, our next port of call. They use the dong there, which is what I will be using to buy my friend a classy black suit for his birthday.
What is my main point here? I guess it's that our money talks, and the rest of the world listens. Except for Western Europe. I'll bet a lot of you won't really feel successful career-wise until you're pulling in six figures or so, which is fine -- I may well feel the same way, and it's most definitely a part of the American dream. But you don't need to have too much at all to be a big spender anywhere else.
In India, as you might recall from several lines ago, one rupee is equal to approximately two cents. Money is worth less, and that's part of the reason why the poor people there are so much poorer than the poor people at home. The volume and density of human life that I experienced in India is something that will stick in my mind for the rest of my life, but that's a story for another time. What matters is that you could hand the most desperate of beggars two cents, and they would look at you like you just handed them the world like it was nothing. A lot of people were really bothered by what they saw there, and that doesn't necessarily make them the archetypal "ugly American" I spoke about last time. There are just certain things our Western senses and "sensibilities" aren't prepared to deal with the first time we set foot in a place like India.
OK, "Home Alone 2" is about to start, and there's nothing like watching a classic American film on Starz with Malay subtitles to satisfy that craving for an enlightening cultural experience. I hate cliches, so I won't tell you to count your blessings or anything like that. Let's try this one instead: We are rich. Money rules. Good night, and I'll see you in the Third World.
Erik's column runs weekly alternating Tuesdays and Thursdays. He cannot be reached because he is lost at sea.
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