The people of Malaysia

Just one example of how this country makes us feel at home.

Starting from the southernmost point of Asia, we cycled north along Malaysia’s west coast. We were completely surprised by the beautifully paved roads, right in the heart of Johor’s rainforest. As we cycled through this biodiverse region, we encountered our first cheeky monkeys. It felt like a safari, but with the luxury of perfectly smooth, flat roads. A paradise for cyclists like us.

But what truly sets Malaysia apart isn’t just its landscape—it’s its people. Like the family we met that night.

That night, still searching for a good spot to pitch our tent, we passed by a farm. We spotted a guy working in the field and asked if we could camp there for the night. He looked a bit surprised, probably because tourists rarely come through this area. On top of that, he didn’t speak much English. Still, he understood us and made it clear that it wouldn’t be a problem. A little later, after speaking with his mother, we felt completely welcomed.

His father shook Bernardo's hand. Out of respect for his faith (he is Muslim), he didn’t shake mine; instead, he gave me a friendly, welcoming look. Similarly, when Bernardo greeted the mother of the house, she didn’t shake his hand but acknowledged him with a warm smile. They welcomed us to use the shower and relax in the living room, where we could protect ourselves from the mosquitoes. We can be thankful if we don’t get infected with Dengue, but aside from that, the place felt like a little paradise.

As the evening went on, we got to know the family better. Their youngest daughter arrived home after a long day, exhausted but still smiling. The 20-year-old part-time student told us about her hectic life—working at a kindergarten during the day and studying from 1 to 6 during the night. That leaves her with just three hours of sleep per night. For us, it’s hard to imagine, but for her—and many of her peers in Malaysia—it’s just a way of life. Knowing how little rest she gets, made us appreciate her time and attention even more.

We offered to cook for the family, but they insisted on cooking for us instead. Soon, the table filled with freshly made dishes: sticky rice wrapped in palm leaves, noodles with vegetables and beef, fried octopus, rendang, lychee in rose syrup and a creamy strawberry drink, all prepared by the mother of the house. It felt like a warm family evening, with everything we could have wished for.

We spent the evening chatting and laughing, feeling as if we had been part of this family for years. To help Bernardo recover from the long ride, the father massaged him with tiger balm, saying “This will make you feel strong.” When the family discovered that Bernardo is a YouTuber, they passionately explored his channel and took plenty of photos and videos. Meanwhile, the father was caught up in his own form of live reporting. With his camera rolling, he enthusiastically narrated the entire event in Malay. We couldn’t understand what he was saying, but from few words we recognized—"Portugal" and "Hollanda"—it was clear we were the main topic. It was hard to tell whether he was filming a documentary or an abstract piece of art, as his camera wandered between us, the room, the ground, and occasionally nothing in particular. Yet, he kept chatting away, completely absorbed in his storytelling. Then, with great importance, he sent his masterpiece off to his family.

He was clearly grateful to have us as guests and even prayed for us. You can only imagine how thankful we were to be there.

Although we had set up our tent, we ended up sleeping in the living room, on a bed the mother and daughter had prepared for us. We woke up to the wonderful smell of Nasi Lemak, once again prepared with care, by the mother of the house. During breakfast, an aunt joined us—most likely informed by the father’s ‘live report’ from the night before. She welcomed us like a warm silk blanket and, to our surprise, even gave us some pocket money for the journey ahead.

We’re still getting used to the generosity here. Whether it’s food, drinks, or even money, our instinctive Western reaction is to politely refuse, even when we appreciate it. But here, that’s not how it works. When people offer something, they genuinely want you to accept it, and declining might even be seen as impolite. We’re learning that sometimes, the best way to show gratitude is simply to accept. And so, we accepted the money —a meaningful reminder of our time with this family.

After breakfast, we said our goodbyes and left with full bellies—and even fuller hearts.

Little did we know this was just the beginning of the many wonderful moments we would share with the people of Malaysia…

Jule Noah