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On my way to Taman Negara from Cameron Highlands I ended up in a small town called Tanah Merah. I arrived mid morning and had a train ticket for early the next day. I thought “this is easy enough: arrive, get some food, find a bank, hotel, next morning off to Taman Negara.” Taman Negara, which I had chosen as a compromise for not being able to afford going to Borneo. I was instead going to a “tame” jungle. Yes, in quotations. I came to find soon enough the Malaysian concept of tame was different than mine. But that is the subject of another story. Getting off the train I realized how small Tanah Merah was and knew it would prove a bit harder to do those simple things. I had arrived with no booking or plan, so I wondered the streets and failing quickly on my first quest: find a bank. No English, Spanish or (broken) French to be spoken. On the quest for food, I found plenty of options but no signs I understood, nor had I many ringgits. In desperation, I went in to a KFC. As soon as I ordered I knew it had been a mistake. Well, the food anyway. Inside I enjoyed the company of a group of girls in hijabs who were chatting and eating happily. We exchanged “hellos” and asked them the location of a bank. One of the girls, Fatimah, spoke fairly good English; she was kind and gave me directions. We chatted on the way and I shared my background and reason for being there. Soon she asked if I wanted to visit her family farm. I quickly agreed. She led me through multiple streets, the bank, then soon off in a public transportation type of minivan. It surprised me that we ended up taking the highway for almost an hour. I worried slightly as to how I was going to get back into town. I am not sure how her family knew I was coming, but there was a sort of welcoming committee when we arrived. Her Mom, Dad and four siblings were there, and soon, neighbours and other family members joined. The conversation was incredibly fun, a lot of translation back and forth through my young guide. After a while, I got taken on a tour of the farm. As it is common in Asia, I was taken on a scooter. I have to admit, I am not keen on scooters, motorcycles, or even bikes – I know, a crime these days for avid travellers. In any case, my fear of two wheeled contraptions caused Fatimah to laugh heartily as she wheeled me around. The family had what seemed to be endless rambutan, mangosteens and langsat trees. They are so tasty! I couldn’t get enough. As the end of the day neared, I asked Fatimah how I could get back into town. Fatimah and her family wouldn’t have it. They invited me to stay for a dinner, stay the night and they would drive me in the morning to the train station. I was completely taken by their warmth and openness. In the gentlest way I was instructed in their customs, I was to shower before dinner and wear pants and long sleeves. At dinner we sat on the kitchen floor for a communal dinner, teaching me how to properly eat with my hand. I wish I could tell you the names of the dishes since it was one of the most delicious dinners I have ever had, but the names were too complicated for my brain to store properly. I was so moved when the whole extended family came to see me off the next morning, especially as it was so incredibly early. To top it off, they gave me a humongous sack full of fruit and a nasi lemak for breakfast. Another incredibly delicious food, which this time I made sure to remember. Nasi lemak is a rice ball, which can have chicken and/or egg with spices inside wrapped in banana leaves. I was dropped off at the train station, and needless to say I was sad to leave so soon.