Title: Adventures of the Sarong Party Boy
The words in Red are my own.
Origins
The original SPG (Sarong Party Girl) was identified in Jim Aitchison's 1994 series of books bearing the same name. He notes that there were certain local girls who only went out with Mat Sallehs [Malaysian slang for people of a Western origin]. But really, this dates back to the time when harlots would wait for sailors to pile off the boats. The SPG wasn't very bright -- her true assets lay in her physique -- and her ability to rein these lads in. White men were just a passport to a better life. The New SPG is just as calculating as her sisters -- but in a more up market way. Born out of the early 90s economic boom, the New SPG usually has a foreign degree which means that she can now talk shop with her Ang Moh [Chinese slang for people of a Western origin] boyfriends. But white blokes are still seen as social trophies [*puke*]. The Sarong Party Boy, in the last five years has been timidly emerging out of the closet. He exists for much the same reasons that the New SPG (and Bangsar) [local up market suburb where most of the "trendy" pubs are] were hatched -- money and exposure to the West. Plus, there are a lot more Caucasian women around for him to choose from nowadays.
It ain't just the girls who are after a bit of white flesh. Local boys are on the prowl as well. Introducing the all-new SPBs.
You're probably familiar with the helium-headed Sarong Party Girl and her grazing habits : the Hard Rock Cafe, the barely there dress, clinging onto a balding white man. And you may even have encountered, two rungs up the evolutionary ladder, the New SPG: credit-worthy, condom -carrying and cultured -- but still draped around a Mat Salleh.
Now, meet quite a different kettle of tuna ["kettle of tuna"???!!!] -- her male counterpart -- the Sarong Party Boy. Before you wag a disbelieving finger, just cast your mind back. You'll probably have picked out the SPB in your peripheral vision: the scrawny Asian bloke cupping the statuesque Ang Moh's hand, that Echo [a club in Bangsar] barman who's got a way with words and white women. Remember?
You may not have really noticed the SPB before, because aside from his sheer lack of numbers, historically, the SPB is a fairly new phenomenon. He's a lone ranger, not a pack hunter; and unlike his female cohorts, he doesn't look like a male slut [*puke*]. Frankly, the SPB would sooner announce on TV that he has a problem with flatulence than admit his penchant for Mina Sallehs [Western females]. So instead of flaunting his Calvins or preening down Bangsar's Jalan [street] Telawi in a body glove, he'll be soberly Smart Casual. Almost undetectable. Well, mostly.
For unlike the Sarong Party Girls, SPBs aren't a homogeneous group. Ask a girl why she dates an Ang Moh, and she might say she finds local blokes physically unappealing (read: less well endowed); or she'll intimate that white men are the stairway to social heaven. However, prod an SPB with the same question and you'll get a welter of conflicting answers. "Er, I do like local women as well but I prefer white women," splutters Razak, 24; or like Mahmud, 30, he'll deny that he's ever walked across a crowded bar just to chat up the odd Brit architecture student. Confused? You see, you can't place the same cookie cutter on the SPB -- he just isn't made out of the same flaky dough [is the writer (a female) implying that females are flaky??].
So what drives our guys into the arms of these blonde Sheilas? It's not as if our local lasses come with faces like the bottom of an unscrubbed kuali [frying pan]. On the contrary: ask an SPB if he finds Malaysian women attractive, and more often that not, he'll exclaim: "Of course!" Colour doesn't really come into the equation, either; for the sight of a dusky-skinned girl, he swears, worms his cockles more than an Artic blonde. "Actually, I've been out with a Jamaican before," bristles Paul, 27, "so I can't see any difference." No, the attraction is more than just skin deep.
Depending on which type of SPB you ask, your replies might either be: a) hormonal-charged, "Local girls are harder to get" [my assumption here is that most of them go for the white boys]; b) reek of snob appeal, "I am only into women with whom I can discuss Naomi Woolf and German expressionism" [so what happened to the new and reformed SPG... some weird contradiction happening here]; or c) a plaintive plea from the heart, "I'm into foreign women because they're independent, not possessive, or clingy. And they don't expect you to be a yuppie". Hmm. Are any Malaysian girls out there listening [please don't tell me that the writer is implying what I think she is implying!!]?
The SPB, despite his very Asian horror of unwashed bodies, does occasionally have to put up with the odd Caucasian one. "One French girl I was dating took a bath every three days -- and this was in the tropics," complains Sulong, 23, his nose wrinkling. But he still stuck with her anyway. So what does this say about SPBs? Or our women?
But here's one final reassuring point: it isn't the bedroom gymnastics that make the Minah Sallehs so popular with our lads. All the SPBs interviewed were keen to stress that both the Caucasian and local specimens are equally good at bed exercises, "I've had my share of both Asian and European women and I can safely say that there's no real difference in that department," confirms Kar-Wai, 25 [DUH!!!].
So sod the tall tales of sensual Asians and experimental Europeans. When it comes to sexual gymnastics, it's very much up to the individual girl [does the writer need a brain transplant or something?]. We know you can't make generalisations, but most SPBs fall squarely into three categories.
Human Coconut
Background: "I've been back for six years now, and I still can't accept the Malaysian way of life," confesses Andy 32. Brown on the outside, white on the inside -- this is the Human Coconut's dilemma. Although he's a Malaysian passport holder, he's lived abroad for a minimum of 10 years, which means that, like an overburden Bas Mini [mini bus], he's bogged down by far too much cultural baggage. To him, Malaysia is just another Third World Nation lacking in highbrow culture, real ale and decent football teams.
Job: Being a cerebral fart [???], the Human Coconut is drawn towards the more creative fields such as architecture and advertising. So far, he's resisted the gravitational pull of Manglish [Malaysian English] and only uses "lah" [Malaysians tend to use "lah" a lot at the end of words and sentences... eg. "yes-lah"] in a strictly ironic sense. And Bahasa [the Malaysian national language] is used only to address the Indonesian janitor.
Behaviour: The Human Coconut slaps his Mat Salleh-ness on as if it were a skin whitening cream; mentally clingfilming himself around any white woman who's read Samuel Huntington. Caught off-guard, he might stutter, "Well, er, I suppose it's a certain fetish of mine," but when more prepared, he flips you a nonchalant answer, "Oh", he says, "I just need someone I can relate to intellectually and culturally." [whatever happened to the "NEW Sarong Party Girls???]
Why he does it: The truth is, like Woody Allen, the Human Coconut is emotionally constipated. In denial, he's unable to say the he simply fancies the pants of English Sarah, or that he's suffering from a post-colonial hangover. But the truth is, the class WOG (Westernised Oriental Gentlemen) can't understand why he's been cursed with brown skin. He thinks exchanging bodily fluids with a Minah Salleh will, in turn, make him more Mat Salleh (like some sort of human osmosis process) [isn't this the most hysterical thing you have read so far??].
Where to find him: Art house cinemas, embassy functions, Instant Cafe theatre productions and the Actor's Studio.
Beach Boy
Background: The Beach Boy, naturally, hangs about beach resorts. This of any no-star A-frame hut to any five-star palace boasting external lifts in Malaysia and you'll find him idling around its margins: strumming guitar by day; and beer on a mat by night with white babe in tow. "Pulau Perhentian [an island] is a long-time favourite of mine simply because of the high number of female white tourists," says Farouk, 20. But any seaside spot with sun-kissed Minah Sallehs is basically a real honeypot for the Beach Boys.
Job: There are two kinds of Beach Boys. The first is the sort who's come to work temporarily in Club Med. This lad is young, at an age where his hormones are raging like an overheated nuclear reactor; bronzed, because he's probably the windsurfing instructor; and he's English-educated. Either that or he's the ever-so-cool musician who refuses to get a job because he doesn't believe in the system. Usually dreadlocked and looks like he's just gotten out of bed (because he just has). "Life is meant to be enjoyed and one of my favourite pastimes is chasing white girls," explains Joe, 22.
Why he does it: "They are so damn easy! They're here for a bit of fun, so you know what they want," Mark, 24, insists [don't you want to shoot him or perhaps, something slower and more painful??]. He's able to pull with little difficulty, especially if the target is a lone student backpacker. It's a bit trickier is she's with her family or friends. Still, it's not for nothing that Cherating [where Club Med is located] is also known as Club Bed [grounds for a defamation suit maybe??]. When he's finished sowing his wild oats at Club Med, the Beach Boy then returns to the capital, where, if he's not careful, he might metamorphosise into Accent Jackson (see below). The playboy busker, on the other hand, will remain in his own private fantasy island. A relentless succession of white women to pursue is reason enough for him to stay on.
Where to find him: Besides Pulau Perhentian and Cherating, you can also find him on the islands of Langkawi, Pangkor and Redang.
Accent Jackson
Background: Jackson has never been abroad but is able to tailor his accent to suit the Minah Salleh he meets. He is also unable to understand why Westerners constantly refer to Asian women as exotic. Baywatch is his idea of exotic. Jackson can't quite believe his good fortune over the last few years. "First, they were just tourists. Now they actually work here. It's just too good to be true." says Huang Seng, 25.
Job: Outgoing, he's usually in the service industry where the chances of him meeting white women whilst on the job are pretty high.
Behaviour: It doesn't matter if she's a dog as long as she's white [*puke*]. Since Jackson has never been abroad, his hunger for white flesh is far greater than any need for quality control [*double puke*].
Emerges from his first conquest with fists clenched and proceeds to let everyone know about it by draping himself around her like a cheap Petaling Street [a street famous for its cheap, low quality goods] dress.
Why he does it: Jackson is desperate to visit the Western Wonderland and hopes that by marrying a Caucasian woman he'll be able to obtain PR status to the land of bikini babes.
Where to find him: Modesto's, Citrus, Finnegan's, The Jump, DV8 [all nightclubs in KL].
How an SPB makes his moves:
Human Coconut: He doesn't pull -- he bonds. And usually over private dinner parties, or in rarefied expat hangouts.
Beach Boy: To break the ice, he might offer a traditional massage, or else, he'll be strumming "No Woman No Cry" on a battered Kapok guitar.
Accent Jackson: His accents change according to the nationality of the target. Believes the West is the Best, and superficial is his middle name but he doesn't care as long as he gets to date a white gal.
