On Friday, I crossed the border from Singapore to Malaysia, which was easier than anticipated. The bus was full of locals except for one other Westerner; a septuagenarian from Florida who was surprisingly sprightly despite being three times my age! Two passport stamps later (one slightly crooked, might I add), and we were free to go through to Malaysia.
Melacca is a beautiful, historical city. In the past, it was conquered by both the Dutch and Portuguese, and as such has unusual architecture. I took a boat ride yesterday evening along the Melacca straight, the famous shipping lanes, and then found some tasty food in the shape of roti masala (a kind of potato-vegetable pancake), served on a huge banana leaf. I was slightly concerned when I saw other people eating from banana leaves because I hate the taste of banana and was worried that it might have rubbed off onto the food, but my fears were unfounded and the roti was delicious.
Transport in Malacca is in the form of the tri-shaw: bicycles with sidecards attached that have been pimped up with flowers, cuddly toys, flashing lights and MJ blaring from the speakers. The added extras gives pedestrians the advantage of that you know when they are coming, unlike in Vietnam where they stealth bomb up behind you and graze your calves, then wonder why you are angry!
My hostel is very nice although I am the sole inhabitant in the 8 bed dorm...which to be honest, I should have expected by now! To compensate for the lack of human interaction, I have been doing yet more contacts, focusing on assertive first sound and also overkilling more words. Yesterday, whilst doing contacts, I was approached by 2 separate groups of Indonesian students, keen to practice their English. The first group interviewed me about my thoughts on Melacca and how it could be improved. The second group wanted the same information, but whipped out a video camera to record the 3 minute discussion.
To say I was terrified when I saw the video camera is an understatement, especially because recently I have been experiencing a lot of tension as a result of the challenging circumstances I experience daily. In my mind, the goal of the McGuire programme had warped into "Trying not to stammer", and I was judging my success/failure on how often I blocked. The actual goal of the programme is to become a "strong, eloquent speaker". Having realised this (with my coach Terry's help, obviously!), my mantra for the foreseeable future is now:
"There is a big difference between trying not to stammer and trying to speak well"
Did I speak well with the Indonesian students?
I'd have to say that most definitely, I did.
