This wedding is unlike what I would imagine for a romantic venue on a plantation…
We have been invited to a Champa wedding, in fact all the GIFT Foundation Champa community has been invited. Filled with curiosity and excitement, Shane and I were bundled into a truck with Dr. Firdaus’ three kids and another two that are staying in their house. Jam packed like sardines in a can, Shane was lucky to sit on the front passenger seat while I try to squeeze myself to the door. The children were squabbling, there was no air conditioning in the truck and opening the windows meant having my hair fly all over the place! It was better to stick my face out the window than being stifled in a 36°C (96.8°F) heat with sweaty kids!!! I love kids but five in the truck with one who is ADHD and oppositional defiance had me wishing we get to the wedding sooner. Luckily the boy who is ADHD decided he much prefer to sit on Shane’s lap for the rest of the drive. I was concerned for our safety but oh well….seemed this has happened many times before. This is the village style of driving.
We soon entered a dirt road filled with debris from a construction site. I have long gave up on tidying my hair so the dust that rose from the road as we drove by didn’t bother me much. The bumpy ride stopped in a small clearing in the palm oil plantation. There was a small wooden house next to the road and a few feet further inland were two tents attached to a ‘cardboard’ house. Thank goodness I had worn a pair of sensible sandals. Shane would have to piggy backed me had I worn heels!
We were greeted warmly by the parents of the groom. We found out Dr. Firdaus was the guest of honor and they had waited for our arrival to start the feast. She had funded most of the wedding preparation and the family was grateful. It was the first wedding event held for the community! Usually, a wedding ceremony is held secretly for fear of immigration raid. In her honor, we were invited to sit at the table with the bride and groom.
After the meal, Shane and I were given a tour of the surrounding area by our new friends. There are two families living in the ‘cardboard’ house. They rented this place from the owner of the plantation for a staggering MYR800 (US$198) a month! The minimum wage for a Malaysian is now MYR1,200 (US$283) per month. An undocumented person would earn less. There were no electricity and clean water. An outdoor toilet is built over a small stream. The landlord could demand for this amount because he knew they can’t go anywhere else. We were told stories of how the families would run deeper into the palm oil plantation to hide from immigration officers during a raid. They would stay hidden in the dark until everything is cleared. Sometimes, the officers would destroy what little they have of the house and property; other times they demanded a bribe. The latest news we heard is that the landlord has sold his plantation for a new housing development. They have a month to move to a new location. Such is the lives of undocumented immigrants.
