The Smell of Rendang at Seven in the Morning
I wasn’t expecting it. The hotel lobby in KL smelled like coconut milk and lemongrass at breakfast, and the front desk guy — still in his baju Melayu from morning prayers — said something like, ‘Selamat Hari Raya,’ and waved me toward a tray of kuih on the counter. Free. For anyone.
That’s Hari Raya Aidilfitri in Malaysia. The end of Ramadan, yes, but also the month when the entire country collectively decides that hospitality isn’t just a value — it’s a competitive sport. In 2026, the celebration is expected to fall around March 30–31, though the exact date depends on the sighting of the new moon and typically gets confirmed only a day or two beforehand. Plan accordingly.
The celebration doesn’t end on day two. It keeps going for weeks. The concept of the open house — families literally leaving their doors open for visitors of any background — extends through much of the following month. It’s not performative. People actually do this.
Forgiveness First, Then the Feast
Before the eating and visiting starts, Hari Raya is about making things right. The phrase ‘Maaf Zahir dan Batin’ — roughly, ‘I seek your forgiveness, outwardly and inwardly’ — shows up everywhere: greeting cards, WhatsApp messages, said face to face while kneeling before parents and grandparents. The kneeling gesture is called sungkem, and the first time you see it happening in someone’s living room, it lands differently than reading about it.
The emotional weight of this tradition is hard to overstate. Families that haven’t spoken all year patch things up. Adult children who moved to Singapore or the UK fly back specifically for this moment. It’s not always smooth — family dynamics are family dynamics — but the intention is genuine.
Hari Raya Aidilfitri literally translates to something like ‘the celebration of returning to purity.’ After a month of fasting during Ramadan, the festival marks a spiritual reset. But for most Malaysian families, the religious significance and the communal joy aren’t separate things. They’re the same thing.
Balik Kampung — The Exodus
A few days before Hari Raya, Kuala Lumpur empties out. Not figuratively — literally. The highways heading north and east become parking lots. The phenomenon is called balik kampung (returning to the hometown), and it’s the largest annual migration of people in Malaysia.
If you’re driving during balik kampung, expect what Malaysians call ‘crawling’ on the major expressways. The North-South Expressway and the East Coast Expressway are the worst. Bus tickets to places like Kelantan and Terengganu sell out weeks in advance. Train tickets, same story.
The flip side: KL itself becomes weirdly peaceful. Streets that are normally gridlocked are suddenly empty. Parking spots appear in places where parking spots never exist. If you’re staying in the city for Hari Raya itself, you get a version of Kuala Lumpur that residents rarely see.
Open House — What It Actually Looks Like
The open house tradition is the thing that makes Malaysian Hari Raya unique, and it’s worth understanding how it works in practice.
A family prepares food — a lot of food. Rendang, ketupat, lemang, cookies, kuih, drinks. Then they open their house to visitors. Not just family and close friends. Colleagues, neighbors, acquaintances, friends of friends. In many cases, the invitation extends to anyone who shows up. You visit, you eat, you chat, you move on to the next house. Some people hit four or five open houses in a single day.
Non-Muslim Malaysians participate too. Chinese and Indian families visit their Malay friends’ homes, and the gesture gets returned during Chinese New Year and Deepavali. It’s one of those Malaysian things that sounds idealistic on paper but actually happens.
Even the Prime Minister hosts an open house. Tens of thousands of people attend. Free food, entertainment, handshakes with politicians. Whether that’s appealing depends on your feelings about crowds and politicians, but it’s a genuinely Malaysian spectacle.
If you’re a traveler and you’ve made even one Malaysian friend, there’s a decent chance you’ll get invited to an open house. Go. Bring a small gift — cookies or fruit — and take your shoes off at the door. It’s probably the most authentic cultural experience you’ll have in Southeast Asia, and I don’t say that lightly.
The Food Situation
Rendang is the centerpiece. Beef or chicken, slow-cooked in coconut milk with a spice paste that includes lemongrass, galangal, turmeric, and chili, until the sauce reduces and caramelizes around the meat. CNN once voted it the world’s best food, which caused a minor national celebration. Every family’s recipe is different, and every family’s is the best.
Ketupat goes with the rendang. Rice compressed in woven palm leaf casings, boiled until dense. Making the casings is an art — there are YouTube tutorials, but honestly it takes practice.
Lemang is glutinous rice cooked with coconut milk inside bamboo tubes over a fire. Smoky and rich. You’ll find people selling it roadside in the days before Hari Raya, the bamboo tubes lined up over charcoal pits.
Then there are the cookies. Weeks before the holiday, kitchens across the country start producing industrial quantities of pineapple tarts (tart nanas), kuih bangkit, kuih makmur, and dozens of other varieties. The cookie game during Hari Raya is serious — families judge each other’s spreads, though nobody would admit it.
Where to Go
Kuala Lumpur — Kampung Baru, a traditional Malay village tucked inside the city center, is the place to be. During Hari Raya it transforms into a street festival. The KLCC and Bukit Bintang areas get elaborate decorations. The malls compete for the most impressive Raya setup, which is its own kind of entertainment.
Melaka — Smaller, more intimate, and the food heritage runs deep. The old town is walkable and the Raya atmosphere in the Malay quarter is warm without being overwhelming.
Kelantan and Terengganu — The east coast is where Hari Raya feels most traditional. Village celebrations, traditional games like gasing (top-spinning) and congkak, and a pace that hasn’t changed much in decades. Getting there during balik kampung is the challenge.
Penang — George Town’s multicultural character means Hari Raya exists alongside Chinese and Indian cultural life in a way that feels distinctly, comfortably Malaysian.
Accommodation books up fast during the holiday period. If you haven’t sorted lodging a month out, you’re going to pay more than you’d like. Agoda usually has reasonable options across Malaysian cities — worth checking early.
The Practical Stuff
Dress modestly if you’re visiting homes or mosques. Shoulders and knees covered. Many Malaysian families wear matching baju Melayu (men) and baju kurung (women) in coordinated colors, which makes the streets look like a fashion show with a very specific dress code.
The new moon thing is real — Hari Raya dates aren’t fixed on the Gregorian calendar, so leave some flexibility in your itinerary. The first two days are public holidays, but life doesn’t fully return to normal for about a week.
Transport during the balik kampung period is genuinely difficult. If you need intercity travel in the three days before Hari Raya, book early or consider flying. If you’re looking at experiences or day tours once you’re settled, KLOOK has cultural tours and cooking classes that run during the festival period — not a bad way to get oriented if you don’t have local connections.
One more thing: mobile data. Your phone will work, but if you’re on a local SIM, top up before the holiday. Some shops close for several days.
After the Last Ketupat
The morning after my first Hari Raya open house marathon, I found three containers of cookies in my bag that I didn’t remember accepting. A colleague had also texted me an invitation to her mother’s house in Seremban for the following weekend — someone I’d only spoken to twice at the office.
I didn’t go, which I still regret. Next time.