I walk cautiously along the narrow streets, staying as close as possible to the edge without slipping into the concrete gutters that separate asphalt from George Town’s parading row houses. A gaunt Chinese man pedals an ancient bicycle beside me, his flip-flops poking from beneath flowing pants with each downstroke. Out of the corner of my eye I spot a cluster of wiry, foot-long hairs growing from his bulbous black chin mole and giggle when I realize they are bouncing up and down in perfect time with his pumping feet. As he rolls away I am distracted by the rhythmic bounce of his flowing white hair and wander too far out into the street; a motorbike whizzes past me with only centimeters of clearance. On the other side a horn sounds and for a moment we are three: a car passing a motorcycle passing a pedestrian, a trio hogging both lanes, seemingly oblivious to the oncoming panel van. Focus, I must focus.
Concrete walkways cross gutters at edge of the street, providing access to multi-level sidewalks
At first, I tried using the sidewalks but in Penang they do not exist in the normal sense of the word. Shopkeepers and homeowners have each poured small concrete pads in front of their buildings without regard for the level of their neighbor’s stoop. In some places, steps access the multi-levels; in others the walkways simply end. Rare stretches of level sidewalk become obstacle courses of parked motorcycles, bicycles, or piles of merchandise for sale. And so, like everyone else, I walk in the street.
The occasional stretch of level sidewalk is inevitably clogged with parked motorcycles and bicycles
In Little India, shops roll merchandise to the edge of the street, blocking sidewalks
Pedicabs fall somewhere in the middle of the traffic hierarchy. One evening I hesitated a nanosecond too long in front of a row of lemon yellow pedicabs wrapped in a rainbow of plastic flowers. Sensing fresh meat, the Chinese driver smiled a gap-toothed grin and launched into his practiced spiel:
“You rike lide rady? Give you good lide. One hour. Thirty Lingit.” My feet were aching from hours of walking. I hesitated. He went in for the kill. “Give you velly, velly good lide, show you all praces in George Town.” Continue reading
