On a recent weekend excursion out of the city, I stopped for coffee at a cluster of roadside shops selling refreshments for travelers heading to the jungle-shrouded highlands that form the spine of Malaysia. A young man was sweeping the small yard outside the outbuilding that housed the restrooms; he was the janitor and handyman, he said, but he was wary when I tried to strike up a conversation.

He was from Bangladesh, he told me, and had been in Malaysia for three years. He was called Yunus, but there was no way I could tell if that was his real name.…  Seguir leyendo »