The Road to Malaya

 THE ROAD TO MALAYA

Oh, how we rode the waves on "The Road to Malaya". You were more lovely and exotic than Dorothy Lamour. I was Bing, sometimes Hope -- campur as the Malays would say.

Oh, how we rode the waves on "The Road to Malaya". What a sight we must have been -- the cinnamon girl and the orang putih , strolling hand in hand along the shores of the South China Sea. We had a great time until those lads tailed us and traded jibes. But then, how embarrassed they were when I entered the mosque and you turned to scold.

Oh, how we rode the waves on "The Road to Malaya". You taught English at that old bungalow across the street from Restoran Bismillah. And I pounded out stories on a second-hand Underwood from a kampung house near Sungai Klang.

Oh, how we rode the waves on "The Road to Malaya". Every few months we would board a train for ol'e Siam, past jungle and padi . An Alsatian dog and soldiers would come aboard at Padang Besar. Visa stamped, we would travel on to the Pearl of the Orient. Take a ferry and stay at that Hermann Hesse hotel -- the E & O.

Oh, how we rode the waves on "The Road to Malaya". Once we played pat-a-cake with Immigration in Singapura. Heckle & Jeckle hassled us; didn't want us to get home. But with your cajolery and chatter, they let us cross over the border.

Oh, how we rode the waves on "The Road to Malaya". Most of the time with baby, pram and bag in tow, we made our rounds by bus and train. For hours and hours, we walked about from shop to shop. But we were young, strong and plucky, way back then.

Oh, how we rode the waves on "The Road to Malaya". The film Paramount never made. The one we lived. The scenes we acted out with nothing more than a song, a hope and a prayer. It was our life, our adventure.

Oh, how we rode the waves on "The Road to Malaya".

Oh, how we rode the waves...

Oh, how we rode the waves...

© Breyel, Timm Breyel, "The Road to Malaya". All rights reserved.