From Curiosity to Creation: Bringing Malaysia to Dordrecht Wereldstad

The juicy bite of satay dipped in rich peanut sauce, the sweetness of homemade kuih, the vibrant colors of batik — on September 7, pieces of Malaysia found a home in Dordrecht. At the Wereldstad Festival, what began as a simple booth grew into something more: a bridge between cultures and a personal milestone in my journey as a mother and creator.

Preparing for the Festival

The journey started long before festival day. I discovered the event by chance on Uitagenda Dordrecht and wondered if Malaysia or Chinese culture would be represented. Curious, I reached out to the organizers, and before I knew it, I was attending meetings, making plans, and gathering ideas.

What began as a small project quickly grew. Late at night, after the kids were asleep, I let my creativity flow again as I tested my ability to plan, organize, and create — beyond the role of full-time mother.

Because my mum is visiting the Netherlands, I asked her to help me manage daily life. With her support, I had the space to focus on this project, and in doing so, I discovered balance: the possibility of nurturing both my children and my own passions. I know that when she returns to Malaysia, I’ll carry more confidence to navigate daily life on my own.

Behind the Scenes

I discovered the festival at the end of July and joined the planning meeting in mid-August, leaving only a few weeks to prepare. On top of that, being a full-time mother of two under four years old, every step was a balancing act.

The week before the event, I often worked until 1:30 a.m., planning and designing how the booth would look, sketching batik outlines, testing colors, and experimenting with creative ideas to see what would work best. I also thought about what would make an interesting souvenir for visitors to take home, which eventually led me to create the temporary tattoo design. All of this unfolded while still managing the everyday rhythms of motherhood during the day.

But the real work started even earlier, quietly within me. For months, I had carried a heaviness — the ache of unmet expectations. Each time I hoped for support that didn’t come, I felt a little more alone. Eventually, I realized something both painful and freeing: I could not wait for others to show up in ways they never would.

So I decided to move forward differently — creating my own support system, my own “village.” With my mum at home, my husband’s encouragement, and the kindness of friends, I found the strength to bring Malaysia to Dordrecht and take the first step with The Mandarin Leaf.

I reached out to people I didn’t know personally, asking if they could help me gather props and decorations. Thanks to Mok’s Lions – Lion Dance Rotterdam, I borrowed a life-size lion dance head, once featured in the movie Kung Fu Leeuw. A friend brought a smaller children’s lion dance prop from the Malaysia Association of Belgium and Luxembourg. I contacted the Malaysia Tourism Board and picked up decorations and display items, which helped showcase Malaysia’s diversity at the booth. At first, these were strangers — yet their generosity reminded me of the warmth, solidarity, and sense of community that can exist even far from home.

A Little Piece of Malaysia in Dordrecht

Our booth formed a welcoming “U,” inviting visitors to step inside and experience Malaysia from three different angles.

🍢 The Left: Food Table

We grilled the chicken satay ahead of time at home and kept it warm at the festival. Even without live grilling, the taste was authentically Malaysian — juicy, flavorful, and paired with cucumber, onion, lontong rice cakes, and satay sauce. All 23 portions sold out, leaving both of us smiling. My husband, the satay grill master, had done all the prep.

For the sweets, I pushed myself beyond familiar recipes. I had never made kuih seri muka or kek batik until preparing for this festival. Because I wanted to share something truly Malaysian, I learned the recipes, tested them once, and the kuih and cakes we sold were only my second attempt. A few customers even came back for more — a small but meaningful affirmation.

The drinks also needed a little adaptation. I wanted something refreshing and familiar to Malaysians, yet still enjoyable to Dutch taste buds. I chose limau asam boi (lime with salted plum), but since calamansi isn’t available in the Netherlands, I replaced it with kumquat. The result was tangy, sweet, and cooling.

🎭 The Middle: Display Table

The centerpiece celebrated Malaysia’s diversity. From Sarawak crafts to the life-size lion dance head, every detail told a story. Behind it all, a screen played highlights of Visit Malaysia 2026: Truly Asia, reminding visitors that Malaysia is more than a country — it’s an experience.

🎨 The Right: Creative Table

This was where children and families gathered to play and create. The batik painting workshop was a crowd favorite, with kids dipping brushes into bright colors to bring Malaysian floral motifs to life. A temporary tattoo station drew curious smiles, while in a quiet corner, a flyer stand for The Mandarin Leaf and The Tangerine Circle quietly shared my mission — connecting bicultural families in the Netherlands.

A Quiet Beginning

During the festival, most visitors came for the food and activities. The flyers for The Mandarin Leaf stood quietly on the side. A part of me felt invisible.

Yet I also knew — this was only the beginning. Starting something new takes time, patience, and persistence. Just like the satay we prepared, the first taste may be small, but it plants a memory. I believe the same will happen with The Mandarin Leaf.

Finding Home in a Festival

As I stood in the booth, wearing my red and purple batik dress — a modern take on traditional Malaysian wear — I felt both nostalgia and pride. This was the first time I personally participated in Dordrecht Wereldstad, and I was honored to be a pioneer alongside the other participants.

I may not know many people here, but preparing for this festival showed me that reaching out works — sometimes strangers become friends, and sometimes help arrives from unexpected places. Friends came to set up the booth, contributed food like pulut inti, brought decorations, and volunteered their time. I could not have managed this festival without them.

Closing Reflection

Dordrecht Wereldstad wasn’t just a festival; it was a reminder that heritage can feel as close as home, even thousands of kilometers away.

In the end, I left with an empty satay tray, a full heart, and deep gratitude. Just as I had learned to make kuih seri muka for the first time, this journey reminded me that stepping into the unknown can open doors we never expected — and sometimes, the sweetest connections are the ones we never planned for.