COMMENT Bukit Bintang seems to contain many of Malaysia's glaring contradictions in a nutshell. It is Sunday evening, and an Indian restaurant - a locally-owned venue with workers from south India - is full of young men watching Manchester United play against another team. The young men are mostly from Myanmar.
        
I recognise some faces from both the Chin and Kachin communities, two very large Myanmar groups in the neighbourhood. They are watching the game very intently, and they fill up almost the entire shop.

Nonetheless, hardly any of them is sitting in front of a glass or a plate. Management apparently does not mind (this would not happen in many countries - you would not be allowed to sit without ordering anything).

Not that otherwise the place would be full of customers. It is very late, and even in Bukit Bintang this is not exactly a busy venue. A Chinese Malaysian woman is begging. She is mostly ignored.

The irony of an elderly citizen of a supposedly medium-income country begging among a crowd of young foreign workers, from an economically and socially bankrupt society where they cannot hope to find a job, many of whom are besides refugees or undocumented, is not lost on me: she is a local beggar among nearly destitute foreigners who supposedly can never hope to become legitimate locals.

The place in question is often crowded with young men from Myanmar who live in the immediate neighbourhood of Jalan Alor, a famous entertainment district (as well as red light district) since colonial times.

They cannot afford cable television and therefore sitting up late in the evening at the Indian restaurant watching soccer is a common pastime. Many have television sets and DVD players in their cramped rooms, however. They therefore often watch series and movies.

I have heard many complaints from sleepy young men at various venues in Bukit Bintang to the effect that they have spent many hours sitting up watching videos or soccer at the Indian restaurant.

Series are particularly bad as once you start watching it is difficult to stop as you feel the compulsion to know what is going to happen next. Unfortunately, many have to wake up early and face very long hours at dreary, boring jobs.

It is however the cheapest entertainment available, and the fact that Indian restaurants do not seem to mind offers a small space for young men to colonise, at least temporarily (there are seldom any women). Young men are often very knowledgeable about soccer (often much more than I am, in fact, even though I come from a soccer-crazy country).

They are also knowledgeable about the latest movies in town; the latest Myanmar video clips; and television series. Some are also very keen on Korean soaps. The movies and series can often be rented out from Myanmar shops with Burmese subtitles or even entirely dubbed in one of Myanmar's many different languages.

Sometimes viewing is coupled to drinking (cheap) alcohol at one of the local Myanmar shops (venues doubling as shops, bars and restaurants as well).

Taking the game seriously

It is a very male world and also one in which friends and acquaintances are almost invariably around. Their day off, in case it is not a Sunday, is often spent sleeping or else going around town visiting friends.

If it is a Sunday, and the Myanmar worker in question is Christian, going to church may also be part of the programme, even though it means an early start (many dislike the idea as it is often the only day in the week when they can get up late).

Besides, the Myanmar shop, the shopping malls in the area are also popular. Suria KLCC is also another destination. Few venture out much further, unless they have friends or relatives (in which case they may even go out of town). Though many are very fond of soccer, in Bukit Bintang it is not easy to play a game.

There used to be a vacant plot near the current Imbi market that is no longer there. Now, if a team wants to play - and Jalan Alor does have its Myanmar teams - its players have to go out of town, some times quite far away.

The teams are often ethnic ones - say, made up of players who are only Karen or only Mizo. Nonetheless, some times they are mixed in terms of Myanmar's ethnic groups. In one case there was also a young West African on it.

The games are taken very seriously, even though the players are often unfit (no wonder, as they can only play once a week at the most. It is my impression however that at times weeks can go by without any games).

Everybody wears uniforms, often ones made especially for the team. The goalkeepers can be particularly well attired. Again, there are often no women around, not even as fan leaders.

Afterwards, a stop at the Myanmar shop may also be entertained. In one case I came across an entire team drinking at the shop (after having lost a game, incidentally).

Interestingly, some young men from the Indo-Burmese mountain borderlands, in particular the Chins, were often players in their hometowns and villages. They even integrated official local teams. On the Indian side of the border, the Mizo, for instance, are well-known as soccer players, including on India's national team.

Of course, a few young men have entertained the dream of becoming professional players, apparently a sheer impossibility or nearly so in Myanmar, especially if you are member of an ethnic minority as is often the case here. In India things seem somewhat easier.

I find it peculiar that a country with so many soccer fans should not have a recognised trajectory or itinerary allowing young men to become professional soccer players. Though I am not a soccer professional, my feeling is that it is not impossible that a good deal of talent may be going to waste here.

Back to the Indian restaurant, Myanmar fans seem to have strong preferences in what concerns different teams (Manchester United of course is a great favourite among many young men).

They can also be very vocal when their team scores, though seldom riotous. There is a very interesting, intriguing Southeast Asian sense of public propriety at work here. Or else they are deeply aware of their precarious status in Malaysia and do not want to call attention to themselves.

Whatever the reason, I find it personally reassuring to hear, while I lie on my bed in the middle of the night, all of a sudden, a loud, deep cheer piercing through the noise of Bukit Bintang. It almost lulls me to sleep, believe it or not.


FRED ROSEN has been gallivanting around Southeast Asia for quite some time now. He is interested in foreign communities in Malaysia's large cities. He has also been writing about Malacca, both in the present and the past, as well as other ancient port cities in the Indian Ocean.