The world is full of strange phenomena that cannot be explained by the laws of science or logic. Hadi Awang is only one example

It’s cool this morning. In fact, the Kiara hills outside our apartment are cloaked in mist. 

OK, Siri says it’s a 28-degree morning and accounting for winds, a person accustomed to daily 32-degree swelters might consider it a chilly day.  

On mornings like this back when I was working, I used to wish it was a holiday. It’s grounded in science too: bodies in motion tend to remain in motion while bodies at rest – on a cool morning no less – tend to remain in bed. 

OK, I digress but if you think I’m exaggerating about the chill, three days of this weather in Singapore is, officially, “sweater weather,” ergo  the prudent make a beeline towards Uniqlo where long lines of palm-blowing shoppers have already gathered.

My daughter, Raisa, wishes Malaysia was cooler. 

Although born and bred here, she’s been living in Europe for over a decade, and it shows. Beads of sweat pop out on her forehead the minute she steps outside KL’s airport. It necessitates a mighty effort from the car’s air conditioning to reach a sufficiently Artic equilibrium to satisfy her. 

But she snaps back quickly and is acclimatised in no time at all. I suppose we all possess it to some degree. 

Example: Singapore is far more humid than Malaysia on account of it being an island, but we rarely sweat even when we walk. That’s unlike most tourists who sweat profusely and very obviously. 

In fairness, they might enjoy it. They would if they were, say, from Alaska where, because of climate change, the winters have become so cold even the polar bears are holding out for fur coats.

It’s interesting to observe things from another perspective. The English husband of my cousin visited our place the first time he visited Malaysia. A downpour ensued and he seemed fascinated by its severity. 

Then he walked into the deluge, and I was surprised to see him grinning, “It’s warm,” he said, delighted. He had the same reaction when he plunged into the sea off Langkawi. 

An American friend who’s been in Malaysia for over forty years once told me that he could no longer abide the cold, and he couldn’t think of living anywhere else. I knew exactly what he meant, and I share his sentiments.

I was in my 30s when I first went abroad for higher studies. It can get very frigid in New York, but it wasn’t so much the cold that bothered me.  It was the limited light.

Trudging to classes in the cold and dark at 4 in the afternoon is a grim prospect at the best of times. One suspects that man, like all life about him, not only needs the sun, he craves the sun. 

And yet, he is admirable because he has a tremendous ability to adapt. Consider the person who lives happily in Norway, the Land of the Midnight Sun, but where entire months go by in darkness.   

My daughter says she prefers the cold of Amsterdam.  So does my brother who lives in an even colder place, Connecticut. After Hurricane Sandy lashed America’s northeast, he sent me photos of his backyard. The snow had piled up to the top of his garage. 

Shiver Me Timbers! 

Now we might say we don’t want that but I remember most of my US classmates either gave me pitying looks or looked aghast when I said we had no seasons in Malaysia.  

They need the changes. “If (the weather) didn’t change once in a while, nine out of ten people couldn’t start a conversation here,” noted journalist Frank ‘Kim’ Hubbard by way of explanation.

It’s as good a reason as any.

ENDS