Penang today is very much an amalgam of the old and the new – a bustling port, a heritage city and an industrial base. Perhaps it has more to offer per square mile than any other place in the world. For sheer variety of locales, cultures and foods, Penang is hard to beat. Here are stories about Penang and more.
"Thousands of candles can be lighted from a single candle, and the life of the candle will not be shortened. Happiness never decreases by being shared."—Buddha.
Vesak Day falls on the full moon of the lunar month of Vesākha (either in April, May or June). Also known as Buddha Purnima, it is considered as a holy celebration for the Buddhists as the day commemorates Gautama Buddha's birth, enlightenment (nirvāna) and death (parinirvāna).
One of the most fascinating things that struck me when I was in Japan in the autumn of 2012 had to be its extraordinary dessert culture. In Nara, my family and I witnessed Nakatanidou showcasing the ancient art of mochi pounding, where skilled artisans rhythmically transformed steaming glutinous rice into soft, delicate confections with astonishing speed and precision. Watching the craftsmen work was mesmerising, a beautiful reminder that in Japan, desserts are often deeply intertwined with tradition, craftsmanship, and theatre.
Wat Buppharam may not appear on every traveller’s must-see list in Penang, but those who step into its tranquil embrace are often rewarded with sacred and unexpected discoveries. Can a silent statue whisper the truth of your wishes? Within its shrine hall rests a humble, one-foot-tall figure known as the “Lifting Buddha”, a sacred icon believed to be able to reveal just that!
The Buddhist flag is a common sight in Buddhist communities today, often seen hanging from temple ceilings or columns indoors, or flying high from flagpoles.
“You should wash your hands using water poured over the inside chambers of a hollowed durian skin. It will remove the strong odour from your fingers", urged Mr Teh, my neighbour who accompanied me on a durian feast at one of the many durian orchards in Balik Pulau. That morning, we had a satisfying breakfast like no other, amidst the natural surroundings of the orchard, shaded by towering durian trees.
I have often wondered about my paternal grandfather, Cheah Siang Tee, a man I never met or even seen in a photograph. Yet I carry his surname, and with it, many unanswered questions. There is so much I would like to know about him, especially the flavours he loved and the comfort foods of his time.
As 21st century Malaysia hurtles deeper into the recesses of globalisation, an urban rat-race and the 'kiasu' syndrome, does Buddhist culture still bear relevance in preserving traditional values?
The beggar readily sees a bare floor as a place for a good sleep. The rich man, on the other hand, will have nothing else but the softest bed in a 5-star hotel.
Both men, poor and rich, have one similar need - to sleep. But they have completely different levels of craving, different heights of desire.
Choosing a restaurant for Mother’s Day was a decision I approached with care. The luncheon would bring together three generations of my family, from my 92-year-old Mum to my 23-year-old daughter. I wanted a place where everyone would feel comfortable, and where the meal itself would be worthy of the occasion.
In the quiet hush of a cold morning at the Dachau Concentration Camp Memorial, I stood amidst the lingering mist, each breath a visible puff in the air. I saw hills of shoes, silent witnesses to lives extinguished. Then came the photographs, frozen in time, capturing emaciated bodies, hollow eyes, and unspeakable suffering. I stepped into the remnants of the gas chambers, where silence screamed louder than words. The chill was no longer just physical; it was emotional, moral, spiritual. It was a searing reminder of the horrors man can inflict on his fellow human beings. The hatred. The cruelty. The machinery of death carried out with cold precision.
People have their own preferences when it comes to durians and mine lean strongly towards fruits from older trees. These tend to yield durians with a smoother, creamier texture and a deeper, more pronounced aroma and flavour. Interestingly, even durians from the same tree can taste different from one season to the next, influenced by soil composition and changing weather conditions. For instance, the much-coveted Or Chi (Black Thorn) does not always deliver the same profile each year.
Born into a Chinese Peranakan family, I often find my culinary cravings leaning towards other cuisines – whether it is Chinese, Thai, Italian, Japanese, Vietnamese, Continental, Mexican, Indian or Malay – when dining out, unless I am hosting guests from abroad who crave for Nyonya cuisine. Sometimes when time allows, I will gladly roll up my sleeves and prepare a Nyonya feast to ensure that they depart Penang with a lasting impression of the vibrant and unique flavours that define Nyonya cuisine.
It was a bright, sun-dappled morning when I stepped into the grounds of Penang Buddhist Association (PBA) and there it stood – the magnificent Bodhi tree (Ficus religiosa). I marvelled at its presence, imagining the journey of the sapling that once was – now grown into a towering testament of faith and endurance. This is no ordinary tree. A sacred gift from Sri Lanka, it is believed to be a direct descendant of the very fig tree under which Siddhartha Gautama attained enlightenment in Bodh Gaya. Its lineage, through the revered Jaya Sri Maha Bodhi in Anuradhapura – planted in 288 BCE – connects Penang to a living legacy of over two millennia.