Anak ku is Bahasa Malayu for “my son”.  Anak ku has been quite a celebrity here in Malaysia.  People are not at all shy to come up and touch his reddish mohawk or chubby feet, pinch his cheeks, or grab him out of my arms to hold him.  Besides the questions about his eating habits, people ask his gender, age, and tell me he looks just like me.  Most of this is done while he is in the snuggled comfort (or the sweatbox) of the Ergo carrier.  I don’t know where I would be without that thing.  No one is afraid to dispense child rearing advice, either.  In the morning, I’m told it’s too cold to take him out (where’s his hat? bare arms! bare legs!), even though its 75 degrees, and in the afternoon it’s too hot (where’s his hat? bare arms! bare legs!).

Our temporary apartment was right next to the Methodist Girls School, a primary school with open to the outdoors classrooms that has a pre-teen students from Malay, Indian and Chinese background.  The Malay girls dress in a white headscarf, long sleeved white tunic, floor length blue skirt, and usually some sparkly pink jelly sandals.  The Chinese girls are mostly in a white peter pan shirt with a short blue jumper uniform over, and the Indian girls are in one or the other, with their heads uncovered.  They all love Miles.  “Cute baby, auntie,” a Malay girl with incredibly long eyelashes told me from the other side of the gate.

The move has probably been hardest on Miles, and he is really taking it in stride (not literally, yet).  Just like at home, days when we stay quiet and nearby are the best days.  Unfortunately those have been few and far between so far in the past 3 weeks.  He’s endured hours in cars driving around or in the Ergo.  He even tolerated the stroller for a while the other day.  Hope that continues.  He smiles at strangers, and I think he is winning over the heart of Penang.  I love our little Anak ku!

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