Well, as some of you may have noticed, the sun does set. In fact it does so fairly regularly where I live, probably about 365 times a year. I may not have been the best at physics, despite pursuing it to degree level, but I know enough to realise the mechanics of sunsets and their frequency. Let's not get into David Hume, induction and whether the sun will rise tomorrow at this point....
I am actually referring to the British Empire, which famously covered such a stretch of the globe that there was always, somewhere, a Union Jack enjoying glorious sunshine. And probably applying insufficient sun cream, getting burnt, and swearing about mosquitoes, if they're anything like me. Although I'm not sure flags possess the same natural skill at moaning that I do.
So us Brits used to be pretty good at this Empire building business, if the history books are telling the truth. We, rightly or wrongly, traded, sailed, fought, basically obtained influence by some means or another until we had control over a fair few places far from this sceptred isle. This has had a massive impact on our standing in the world, our way of life and the culture of the places we controlled.
Which brings me to my family. My Grandad was in the army through World War II to the 60s. At this point the sun was setting on the British Empire in a less literal sense as changes in attitudes, combined with the great cost to Britain of the Second World War, made Imperialism terribly unfashionable. This period saw independence for many of the former 'colonies' and the Empire slowly fragmented with the Commonwealth emerging from the ashes. Talking of the ashes, the independence of these countries is vital for important events like the cricket world cup to take place- otherwise it would just be England vs Scotland. Oh yes, and because of self determination and freedom.
There was still a need for the British army to be stationed in several places which were part of the Empire. This was at the time when my father was a young 'un so he accompanied my grandparents when my Grandfather was posted in a selection of exotic locations. These included Germany, Egypt and Malaysia- or British Malaya / Federated Malay States as it was known back then.
So last year I decided I wanted to see the place my Dad speaks most fondly of- Malaysia. This resulted in a very enjoyable 4 weeks in South East Asia with Claire, 2 weeks of which were also with our good friends T and H. I managed to find the house in Ipoh where my grandparents lived. Ipoh, and the house itself, has changed a lot since the 1950s, as these photos show.
So how did the British end up in Malaya in the first place? Well, the same reason we were in most parts of the world- money. The straits of Malacca (also Italo-Greek for wanker or mate), the sea passage connecting the Indian Ocean to the Pacific Ocean, are one of the world's most important trade routes.
For a couple of thousand years one of the world's most lucrative trades has been that of spices. The great merchants of the past would earn fame and fortune through boldly trading spices from east to west. Some are household names still today, such as the Venetian Marco Polo. I wonder if today's equivalents will have the same longevity? Let me know if you see restaurants named after Mark Zuckerberg in a 1000 years. Anyway, back to the point. These spices first moved in long caravans over land but as wars and the rise of Islamic Empires (and the PR disaster of the crusades, NOTW should count themselves lucky) this became more and more difficult. So in the 15th century sea routes such as the Straits of Malacca became increasingly important to the spice trade.
And you know what spices are good for? They're good for FOOD. Which as you know is the theme of this blog. And I will be writing some stuff about Malaysian food and why it is so tasty next time, and probably throwing in a recipe for good measure.
