Noodles, Noodles, Noodles aka Mee Goreng

Noodle Eating Contest!!!!

While looking for my bus connections during the day, I had stumbled upon the night market and Ramadan Bazaar that would take place for two weeks, starting that evening. It was advertised for good shopping, local food and a few events, though one booth in particular caught my eye. The rows of chairs stood empty, but I saw the sign advertising the Mee Goreng Eating Competition. Mee goreng (mie goreng in Indonesian) is the basic, fried instant noodle dish that is very popular among the locals for being both easy and cheap, so the noodle dish had also become a favorite of mine, changing flavor slightly based on the seasoning used in that particular area. As you can imagine, I was really excited to see this sign, and I went straight inside to ask if there was still time/space to sign up for the competition beginning that night. The workers were excited to see a foreigner signing up for the contest, and there was still plenty of space left, so I filled out the form and got ready for my chance to eat a few massive plates of noodles (and get a free dinner in the process). I had never done an eating contest, though there has recently been some talk of a challenge involving Chipotle burritos back in the US, so I didn't really know how I'd do, but I couldn't stop thinking about it during the day.

The competition began at 8:30 that night, so I showed up at 8, actually feeling a bit nervous about the event. I have also become fairly proficient with chopsticks, though I was already to blame them for any shortcomings of mine during the event. Sitting under a large tarp surrounded by about one hundred plastic chairs was the stage, backed by the huge banner and basically just consisting of the speakers for the MC and a long, long table with fifteen chairs spread down the row. As the event began, the announcer introduced the event, and the crowd began to gather. I was actually the first one to be called up to the stage, and I attracted a bit of attention when she announced that I was from the US. The other fourteen contestants made their way up to the stage one by one, a mixed group of men all from Brunei ranging from a few teenagers to a few overweight, middle-aged men that would probably provide some good competition. As we sat at the table, the rules were explained - each contestant would have a heaping plate consisting of three packs of instant noodles, along with a bottle of water to help the noodles go down and a cup of tea that would have to be consumed only when the noodles were finished, since the tea company was one of the sponsors of the entire bazaar. The overflowing, steaming plates of noodles were brought out one by one, and I was happy to see that we would actually be using forks (perhaps as a result of me asking the coordinators whether we'd be using chopsticks or forks, since they first told me chopsticks), though the tiny plastic forks were way smaller than normal.

Just as they were about to start the competition, the speakers blared with music, people gathered around the table, pushing their way up to the front of the chairs to stand around and get a front row view of the feast that was about to take place, and I was both nervous and excited, not knowing how my noodle eating would fare against the locals. Then the announcer began the countdown and the plastic forks began to fly. We all started off with huge piles of noodles, trying to cram as much as possible into our mouths and not choke on them in the process. The cheering began, people yelling and screaming, cameras flashing, and it all became a bit unreal. Being at the very end of the table, I had a hard time judging my progress, but I felt like I was going pretty quickly. The two teenagers next to me were slowing down, and I hoped that was the case with the rest of the table. Then, as I was getting fairly close to finishing the huge plate, I heard a huge roar come up from the middle, and the announcement came that we had a winner. We were encouraged to keep eating, so I quickly finished my noodles and my cup of tea, finishing a respectable second place, though the contest wasn't all that close. I actually noticed that my hand was shaking a little bit from all of the excitement when I set down my fork.

As it turns out, there would be two competitions a night for the next 7 nights, with the winners all facing off on the last day of the fair for the grand prize of 30 cartons of noodles. The way they used the word 'cartons' and not 'packs', I think this actually meant 30 boxes of the instant noodles, since 30 packs would not be that big of a prize. So I would be in Singapore at the time anyway, so I justified not winning the event, though I was jealous when I saw that the winner did get a t-shirt. The second competition that night was a little more peaceful for me, watching the event from the other side as a Japanese tourist competed against the locals, though he was one of many who couldn't finish his entire plate. The announcers came by to talk with me afterwards, thanking me for participating and anxious to hear what I thought about the event and wanting to send me a few pictures that they had taken. Walking back to the hostel just around the corner, full of noodles, I was really glad that I had stumbled upon the event, since there was really no other nightlife to speak of in the quiet city. The next morning, I caught the bus heading South, making my way down the coast, back through immigration and back into Malaysian Borneo, ready for a few more hikes and adventures before leaving Malaysia.

(I randomly stumbled upon this Ramadan Bazaar, and the huge banner caught my eye. Mee goreng/fried noodles are a staple of many people here, including me, and so I couldn't pass up the chance to try my luck eating noodles against the locals.)

(Since I was one the first one announced, I got to sit on the end, ready to gorge myself. We had to eat a huge plate of three servings of instant noodles and then drink a cup of tea. The fastest of the 15 competitors would be...the winner...that's kind of how competitions tend to work.)

(Just before the start, I was sizing up the competition. I had about an 18 year old next to me, then a random guy, then a worker from the KFC booth inside and then a bunch of pretty fast eaters that I couldn't see.)

(As you can see (or can't, in this case), the tiny plastic fork was a little feeble for the heaps of noodles.)

(With the crowd cheering us on, we continued eating and eating, with a few of the guys eventually giving up, but I thought I might have a chance at winning, so I powered through it.)

(I'm in deep concentration here, but the guy next to me appears to be in disbelief. I was actually nervous before the start, since this was my first eating competition, especially on a stage in front of a bunch of locals.)

(We ate and ate, but as I was getting near the end, the announcer came over the loudspeakers and proclaimed that we had a winner, and then I finished up after that, claiming second place.)

(There were two competitions a night for the seven nights of the festival (mine was the first one), and the winners of each event would face off in the finals in early September, so I think I subconsciously let someone else win, since I wouldn't be able to compete again anyway...or maybe he just ate faster. Either way.)

(Once the MC gave the countdown, the music started, the forks started flying, and the crowd of about a hundred people pushed closer to get a good view of the action. Though I didn't win, it was a great experience, and it was also a free dinner, so you can't beat that.)

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Bandar Seri Begawan and Kampung Ayer

My second day in Brunei started off slowly, as many things seem to do in the quiet country. I took a stroll around the uncrowded streets of the city, trying to get a feel for the place. It sort of seemed like a mini version of what Singapore attempts, with the obvious Muslim doctrines and centerpieces of town being a difference, but it had the same sort of pleasant, sanitized feel. Though I only had a chance to talk very briefly with a few locals, it seems that the people are fairly happy with their arrangement. Though the sultan and his family aren't afraid to spend the country's bankroll on their own luxury items, they also provide well for their people with things like free health care, schools, etc. It seems that there's plenty of money to go around while the oil continues to dominate the economy. Being around during Ramadan was also an interesting time to be in such a strict Muslim country, seeing the dress code and watching people go through their daily routines during this month of fasting and self-control.

Not far up the street, I stopped in the refreshing air conditioning of the Royal Regalia Museum, where the sultan has been kind enough to donate just a tiny bit of his endless list of gifts and possessions, displaying presents from other heads of state, pictures of the royal family, his car collection and even some pieces and re-creations of the massive chariot and lines of cardboard people made from a real picture of the people that filled the street back in 1984 for the independence parade. The museum was free, so it was interesting enough for about an hour, though things start to blend together after a while. I asked about the buses getting to the other main mosque of the country, a short ride outside of the city, and I got a few different answers, so I decided I'd just hop on a bus and try my luck. Many of the people in Brunei speak a bit of English thanks to their time under the British crown, yet it was still hard to communicate, and the bus driver and I finally figured out that I was on the wrong bus. So I hopped off and headed back down the road, backtracking to a major intersection and hoping I'd have better luck there. The bus drivers and locals there told me I was on the wrong route, so I was getting a bit frustrated, as the infrequent buses and English speakers meant that I spent a long time walking up and down the road randomly in the hot sun. I made it up one exit ramp thinking I was going in the right direction, but I figured buses wouldn't follow that route, so I eventually walked most of the way back into the city and finally caught the correct bus, taking me to the next mosque in about 25 minutes.

Jame' Asr Hassanil Bolkiah Mosque was built in 1992 as a gift for the 25th anniversary of the sultan's reign of power over the kingdom. Though not quite as ostentatious as the city's central mosque, this one is still an impressive sight full of golden bulb shaped domes and soaring minarets, surrounded by a small garden and a few tiny pools and fountains, each crafted with traditional Muslim inspired shapes and symbols. Being Ramadan, I could not enter the mosque to see the inside, so I was content to just walk around, admiring the fine details of the building, the ornate archways and windows and the intricate paint circling up the minarets around the sides of the mosque. This was a beautiful sight, but after about 45 minutes, I had pretty much seen it all, so I headed back to the bus stop where I found a few helpful locals and caught my next set of buses, again bringing me back towards the downtown area before turning around and catching another bus back out of the city.

The next destination was the sultan's palace, Istana Nurul Iman. I had seen just a glimpse of it the day before, and I wanted to see if I could get any closer. The bus stopped, and I walked off towards the entrance of the gated complex, featuring gardens and trees blocking any sort of view of the palace perched upon a tiny hill in the area. Just before getting there, I was stopped by a policeman, though I didn't really know what was going on, but I knew well enough that I had better obey the officer. So I stood still along the sidewalk as the policeman and his cohort brought out a few portable traffic signals and stopped traffic both ways on the main road out of the city. A minute later, the gates opened, and I wondered if I'd have the chance to see the sultan and an accompanying motorcade, though it just turned out to be a friend or a worker, as it was an unimpressive minivan with no escort that came flying out of the gates, not having to stop thanks to the police. A minute later, the gate closed and traffic resumed, and I was told that I couldn't get past the gates, so I had to be content with the tiny glimpse of the top of the palace from the day before.

For the evening, I went back to the riverside near the main mosque and flagged down one of the many boat drivers/taxis in the river. These guys take tourists on a typical tour of the riverside area, highlighted by a trip into the stilt village of Kampung Ayer which just means Water Village in the local language. The never ending rows of wooden houses are built on tall stilts on top of the river below, much of the area only accessible by water taxi, though once in the village, the houses are linked by a series of boardwalks. The huge community even includes a few schools, mosques and a fire department. This is said to be the largest stilt village in the world, at one time housing over 30,000 people. My driver explained that a fire five or ten years ago burned down a large portion of it, so the population is now around 21,000, and I assumed that this was probably before the fire department had a branch in Kampung Ayer. The driver also stopped off at one of the rickety wooden docks to give me a chance to walk around amongst the village, as well as giving himself the chance to stop off at his house and have a few quick snacks, as the sun had just set, ending his time of fasting for the day. I found a few friendly kids, rows of houses and a couple of restaurants and a loud pair of cats snarling and fighting as they ran up and down the wooden walkways. The view along the river also provided a different perspective on the glowing mosque, and I had hoped to see the sultan's palace from the water, though my driver explained that it would cost extra, and it was already almost dark, so I opted to not make that extra portion of the trip. He also explained that people going out around 4 in the afternoon can ride up to a forested area where the proboscis monkeys play just before the sun sets, but I was too late for that as well.

I began my final night in town with another look at the mosque, lit up brilliantly against the dark night sky, but I was more excited about my next stop for the evening...a local shopping market and Ramadan bazaar with a few events to entertain the locals and the tourists...

(The Jame' Asr Hassanil Bolkiah Mosque was built in commemoration of the sultan's 25th year as ruler of Brunei. Not a bad gift.)

(As with Brunei's other major mosque, the golden domes and intricate designs are spectacular.)

(In the front of the mosque, the series of golden domes have a way of catching your eye.)

(I met a nice high school student there who took this picture for me and was interested in hearing my impressions of his country. I told him I hated it, just to see his reaction. Then I punched him in the stomach and ran.)

(A few of the larger buildings in the city, though obviously not as tall as the minaret of the mosque, as that's against the ordinance.)

(Geometric figures are always pleasing to the eye. Multi-variable calculus, time series or mathematical statistics - not so much. Don't worry, they are not included in any of the pictures...ever.)

(I headed back to the mosque for another night viewing. It was really that impressive that it drew me back, plus there's really not much to do in Brunei.)

(In front of the mosque, I met a nice guy from India who explained many of customs and etiquette with this particular mosque and also told me about how hard it has been for him and his friends to try to get Visas to come to work in America. It's very interesting to hear the stories from another perspective.)

(Here are more of the wooden shacks on stilts next to the river and right across the street from the mosque. The ones that are attached to the mainland by bridges are the poorest ones, as the workers that live there can't afford to live on the water and pay for water taxis every day.)

(I watched this fisherman throw in his net a few times, but he didn't seem to be that successful.)

(From the bridge over the river, you can see how the mosque and the poor village don't really fit well together aesthetically.)

(I was there during the slightly dryer season, though in Borneo, it can really rain at any time, so I have no idea if the water level ever gets up to the top of the wooden stilts.)

(Right before dusk, I hired a water taxi to take me on a tour of Kampung Ayer, the water village. This is the village of stilt houses that sit out in the middle of the river or near the other bank, requiring boats to go anywhere.)

(Kampung Ayer is said to be the largest stilt village in the world, at one time housing over 30,000 people. They now have around 21,000 people living there, complete with schools, mosques, a few restaurants and even a fire department.)

(Wooden boardwalks connect different parts of the village. On the left, you can sort of see the flag of Brunei, one that you probably don't see too often. While I was walking around, my driver walked back to his house in the stilt village to have a little bit of food, since the sun had just gone down.)

(After my tour, I went back for a few final views of the mosque, since it was my last night there.)

(The reflecting pool works particularly well at night.)

(And the palm trees keep that nice tropical feel, reminding you that you're still in Borneo.)

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Brunei. What? Brunei - it's a country. Seriously.

Brunei.

There are probably few readers that know much of anything about the country, perhaps hearing about the wealthy ruler here and there, and I'm sure even fewer people could actually place the tiny kingdom on a map. For me, it was a stop on my way down the coast of Borneo, and I thought it would be an interesting place to spend a day or two. The country's economy is based almost entirely on oil money, and Sultan Hassanal Bolkiah held the title of the richest man in the world for a few years back in the late 90s thanks to the oil money running through his family lines and this tiny country. Brunei Darussalam (the official name) became independent from England only in 1984, creating a small nation based on conservative Muslim laws and governed by the sultan himself, all fueled by the one precious natural resource that sustains Brunei. The prohibitive laws of the land create a fairly quiet, peaceful place, nestled between bits of Malaysia.

Getting there used to require a bus and boat combination, but a few new road connections meant that I was able to take a bus the entire way down the coastline from Kota Kinabalu; this route wasn't very far on the map, but a few administrative hassles made it a long day. I first had to cross from the semi-autonomous state of Sabah (Malaysia) into the semi-autonomous state of Sarawak (Malaysia), requiring a series of passport and immigration controls. We also had to make two small river crossings where there was no bridge, meaning that we had to wait for the slow moving car ferry to come across, load up with vehicles and then slowly make its way across the narrow river, creating more delays. We then passed through into the first section of Brunei, a tiny piece of forest and a few small towns, then back out into Malaysia, then finally back into the larger section of Brunei - all of this on a straight road following down near the coastline. Also, crossing into Brunei for the second time that day, each person had to enter a tiny room where we our body temperatures were taken with a laser gun, providing me with a "Not Sick" sticker on the outside of my passport. When the six hour bus ride was finished, I had another eight stamps in my passport from the day of passing in and out of immigration booths.

As the bus finally entered Bandar Seri Begawan (BSB), the capital and major city of Brunei, we passed just a few indications of the opulent lifestyle of the sultan in the otherwise quiet, clean, nondescript city. The golden dome of the royal palace stuck out just above the trees, though the iron gates surrounding the massive grounds left us wondering what it would look like up close. Known as the Istana Nurul Iman, the enormous mansion was built as the sultan's residence with plenty of space for his ridiculously large collection of exotic cars and other toys. No expense was spared, creating a palace with 1,788 rooms and a banquet hall large enough for 4,000 people, all at a cost of around $350 million. Unfortunately, the palace is only open to visitors one or two days a year, at the end of Ramadan and maybe one other day, when people line up to greet the sultan, tour the extravagance and are treated to a feast courtesy of the ruler, and my timing wasn't right, so I had to skip that opportunity.

Further into downtown, we passed a few museums and slightly stately-looking buildings, along with some of the usual apartment blocks and a few corporate buildings, though none more than a few stories tall. This is apparently because the sultan has mandated that no building can be higher than the mosque whose minaret stands at 44 meters high, and there is even a story of the top floor of a new building having to be removed to comply with this ordinance. Off the bus, I found the one hostel in the country; a clean, nice enough place with a few rooms with bunk beds next to a large athletic complex, sort of like a YMCA. The sun was already beginning to set, so I quickly dropped my bags and headed off for the star attraction of the country - the Omar Ali Saifuddien Mosque. I had caught a few glimpses on the bus, but it was truly a sight to behold, sitting majestically near the river, at the edge of downtown, surrounded by a small reflecting pool on two sides.

As with everything else that the leaders of the country touch, the mosque is extravagant. Built in 1958, supplies were brought in from all over the world including Italy, England and Belgium for pieces of marble, carpeting, etc. In the middle stands a massive golden dome, surrounded by a few minaret and even a re-creation of some ship, made of marble that sits in the reflecting pool. As I was circling the moat and the mosque, I was amazed to see that literally on the other side of the moat, just steps away from the bridge to the mosque were impoverished wooden shacks in very bad condition, set up on stilts in the mud flats on the banks of the river running past the edge of town. The disparity of the broken-down houses and the glittering mosque was huge, and I actually might have thought that the sultan would have simply cleared out those houses and created a park or something as the backdrop for the symbol of the country. Soon it began to rain, and I was ready for some dinner, though I struggled to find any good local food. Most of the places open after dark were overpriced tourist restaurant with Western food, and I was hoping for something a little cheaper and more local. With the people fasting during the day for Ramadan, I couldn't understand how it was so hard to find a few street cafes or restaurants that would be open for dinner after the sun went down. Apparently many of the people eat at home or purchase food during the late afternoon and take it home to be eaten after dark which was not really an option for me. Eventually I found a small Indian restaurant, and the meal was incredible. I had dhal (lentil soup), naan, chicken biryani (mixed rice) and a few other pieces - great food at a good price, though my ice cream cone on the way out was disappointing.

Back at the hostel, I found that I was the only one in my room, and the halls are sex-distinct, meaning that I was literally the only male in the whole country in a dorm room that night. Quite a claim to fame. Superlatives like this are the real reason I travel.

(One of my first views in the center of Bandar Seri Begawan, the capital. As you can see by the massive billboard with his picture on the right hand side, the sultan is not a particularly shy individual.)

(The side view of the Omar Ali Saifuddien Mosque. This beautiful mosque is the centerpiece of the city and really of the country itself.)

(Surprisingly, the reflecting pool around the pristine mosque had a bit of trash built up...kind of like the trashy people that surround the immaculate sultan. Not really, but amazing simile.)

(The sun was setting just as I was circling the mosque, getting my first feel for the sedate, peaceful city.)

(The mosque was built back in 1958 with materials from around the world, and it is a really impressive sight.)

(Literally across the one lane road separating the mosque from the other part of town stands part of the run-down houses set on stilts over the mud flat along the river. Just a bit of disparity there...)

(As the light was getting low, it was time for my trusty mini-tripod for a self-portrait. It really is so much easier than asking over and over for someone else to take the picture, plus there weren't many people around.)

(But these two little kids appeared, along with one other friend, and they were all anxious to pose for some pictures. As with the kids on the Kei Islands, they don't see all that many tourists, so they actually asked me to take pictures of them. Luckily these kids were a little more respectful...see the Kei Islands' posts to see what I mean.)

(As the lights come on, the mosque becomes even more amazing...you'll see.)

(Thanks to an abundance of oil money, Brunei had plenty of cash to spend on making this mosque incredible.)

(Right about this time, it started to rain just a bit, though it was not enough to keep me from taking more pictures.)

(Circling back to the start of the mosque.)

(The marble ship in the water looks decent during the day, but at night, the neon green lights just seem to add that extra touch of class. Stay classy, Brunei. Stay classy. And stay fresh, San Francisco - most of you won't get that reference.)

(Finding any food after dark proved to be a difficult task, which is surprising given that the people fast during the days of Ramadan. I eventually found this awesome Indian meal with roti canai, curry dipping sauce, some seasoned potatoes, a little salad, dhal (lentil soup) and chicken biryani. This was a great meal. Even though I wasn't fasting, I still treated myself to a feast that night.)

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