This Can Of Powdered Chocolate Drink From Malaysia Introduced Me To A Van Culture I Never Heard Of

The weather here has been pretty crappy lately and neither my kid or I have gotten out of the house much. He really wanted to go to the big Asian supermarket to get some exciting snacks and soup dumplings and that kind of thing, so we took advantage of the mostly-melted roads and headed out. While loading up our cart with exotic-to-us junk food, a big green can caught my eye because, aside from being big and green, it had three interesting vehicles on it: a Volkswagen Type 2 bus, a three wheeler like a Piaggio Ape, and some van I couldn’t quite identify; maybe a Bedford?

At the time, I wasn’t really clear just what was in that can; it was big, it was mostly green, and it had the words Edisi Terhad and Warisan on it, which I later learned were Malay for “limited edition” and “heritage.” These words were sandwiching the main brand name, Milo, which is something I’ve never heard of. And that’s my own fault, for not being born in Singapore or Malaysia or Australia or any of the other places Milo is sold.

Milo is basically a powdered chocolate malt drink with (I think?) some vitamins and other stuff mixed in that was developed by an Australian named Thomas Mayne in the 1930s, partially as a response to help combat child malnutrition. The drink became quite popular in many countries, especially ones in Southeast Asia.

Oh, and it’s named for Milo of Croton, an ancient Greek wrestler who was said to have carried a full-grown ox on his shoulders into the Olympic stadium, and who died by getting devoured by wolves while his hands were trapped in a tree. That’s a hell of a way to go.

But this isn’t a site about being devoured by wolves; that’s our sister site, Lupulunch. This is a site about cars and vehicles, and, based on this can, those are a big part of the Milo story. Let’s look at this can again:

Two of the Milo vans shown here are pretty easy to identify; one is clearly a Volkswagen Type 2 microbus, and looks to be a ’62-’67 one, though it strangely lacks the split windshield and V-shaped front end detailing that are hallmarks of those. Still, that’s clearly what’s being depicted here. The three-wheeler seems to be a Piaggio Ape, which were popular in Malaysia and seem to have been the earliest of Milo’s promotional vehicles:

That picture is from the 1950s, and as you can see, these early Milo Apes had a big Milo can on the back, from which little cups of Milo were dispensed; these Milo Vans seem to have been something of a cultural touchpoint for many people in places like Malaysia and Singapore, where the vans seemed to show up at sporting events and similar places, handing out little cups of cold, chocolatey Milo, which seems to have been treated as a sort of sports drink? To analogize it in context more familiar to Americans, sort of like if we had a hybrid of Gatorade and Yoo-Hoo? Can that be right?

I’ll talk more about Milo Van culture in a moment; first we have to look at the third Milo Van shown on the can:

This one is trickier to identify; in other Milo Van-related depictions and merchandise and swag – of which there is plenty – this one is usually used to represent ’60s-era Milo Vans. But what is it, exactly? It’s not a Bedford, it’s not a Transit, it’s not an Austin – it definitely feels British, though, and the closest I’ve found I think is this:

Based on the look of that face, the shape of the grille, the position of the headlights, and that sort of nose-like flap in the middle, I think it’s likely a Ford Thames van, just a bit stylized.

The amount of nostalgia people have for these Milo Vans is pretty significant; there’s a lot of claims that the Milo one got from the vans was different than the stuff made at home, and better, somehow. There’s fan groups with clever names like the “Milo High Club” and Nestlé/Milo sells a lot of Milo Van merch, like these fun Lego-knockoff Milo Vans:

…and of course there’s die-cast versions:

…and even a run of golden Milo Vans:

So, Milo Vans are definitely A Thing in many parts of the world. Also, there’s another bit of Milo-related automotive connection here: it seems that a derogatory term for a crappy car in Malaysia was to call that car a “kereta tin Milo“ or “Milo-tin car.” Here’s what a Malaysian car site says about the origin of the term:

In the old days, circa ‘70s era when Japanese cars were pushing out European brands to dominate our local roads, it was not uncommon for workshops of that era to ‘recycle’ used Milo tins to patch up the bodywork of cars damaged from an accident. They would repaint the damaged area, painting over the word ‘Milo.’

…

How and why cars were repaired this way? I have little idea, but the older folks who lived through that era told me that was common practice back then. Probably because Milo tins were made from thicker gauge metal compared to Milkmaid brand tins?

So when these shoddily repaired cars were involved in another fender bender and the paintwork was scratched, the word ‘Milo’ can sometimes be seen. Thus giving rise to the ‘kereta tin Milo’ remark.

I mean, at least they used a heavier-gauge metal can for the repair work? It seems that Malaysia’s own indigenous car brands, Proton and Perodua, have had to fight for years to shake off the kereta tin Milo stigma.

Damn, that can of unexpected chocolate drink powder sure had a lot more automotive lore in it than I’d have guessed. And now I kind of want to try Milo? But I want it from one of the vans, dammit. Oh well.