by Dr Rahim Said
Only in Germany could a durian spark a full-scale emergency response. Four times in one day, no less. The Wiesbaden fire brigade was dispatched again and again to “gas leak” incidents—sirens blaring, meters clicking—only to discover that the supposed chemical threat was, in fact, Asia’s most misunderstood celebrity: the durian.
Yes, folks, the King of Fruits had landed in Germany—and promptly caused a national nose crisis.
Now, to be fair, durians do have a… let’s say distinctive aroma. To Southeast Asians, it’s the scent of heaven. To Germans, apparently, it’s the smell of the apocalypse.
Somewhere between the bakery and the bratwurst counter, shoppers in Wiesbaden must have wondered if Russia had switched from pipelines to tropical gas warfare.
Firefighters, armed with gas detectors and Teutonic efficiency, stormed into a shopping mall only to find a few innocent durians sitting in an Asian supermarket. You can almost hear the confusion: “Verdammt! It’s not methane—it’s Musang King!”
The scene replayed three more times that day. A residential building, too, fell victim to this olfactory onslaught. One fruit. One entire emergency response. Germany 0, Durian 4.
In Malaysia, of course, we’d laugh. This is the same fruit that sends Grab drivers fleeing, hotel receptionists hiding, and condo managers posting “No Durian” signs next to “No Smoking.”
Yet we still buy it by the truckload. We love it so much, we risk marital disputes over fridge space.
But in Germany? They treat durian like a biological weapon. Imagine the poor fruit, minding its own business in a Wiesbaden supermarket, now accused of domestic terrorism. If durians had lawyers, they’d sue for defamation.
Let’s face it—this isn’t about the durian. It’s about cultural incompatibility. Germans like their smells predictable: freshly baked bread, clean laundry, maybe a whiff of diesel. The durian? It’s unpredictable, wild, and rebellious—a tropical anarchist with spikes.
So, therein lies the peculiarity. The same nation that drinks sauerkraut juice for health can’t handle a bit of fruity funk.
Maybe what Germany needs isn’t a fire brigade—it’s a durian education programme.
Step one: taste before you judge. Step two: never call the police on a fruit.
Until then, Southeast Asians travelling to Europe should take heed: leave your durians at home unless you fancy starring in the evening news under the headline “Gas Leak Turns Out to Be Asian Fruit.”
Somewhere in Wiesbaden tonight, firefighters are still telling the story of the day they battled the smell of Malaysia and lost. Also, somewhere in Malaysia, a durian is laughing—quietly, but with pride.
WE