“Wheeler, the manager of the Bukit Merah Rubber Estate in Malaya, lived alone in a huge gloomy bungalow submerged in an ocean of rubber trees. He was an unhappy and frustrated man. And the day I arrived out from England to start work as an assistant he addressed me as follows: “You’ll find me a pretty easy-going boss on the whole—but there’s one thing I will not tolerate on this estate. And that’s miscegenation.”
I said uncomfortably, “I’m not quite sure what that means.”
“Messing abou...t with native women.”
I glanced round the somber cage of mosquito wire that was his living room. The shelves were cluttered with books on mountaineering, the walls covered with pictures of mountaineering feats torn from magazines. Clearly Wheeler found an outlet for his emotions in dreaming of the conquest of glittering peaks. But how, I wondered, did others fare under his prohibition?
I soon found out: it had affected his assistants in various ways.MoreLessRead More Read Less
User Reviews: