Weekend in KL

Returned from a marvelous sleepless weekend in KL, the birthplace of one Shaharris H Beh (why is H the best fake middle initial?). I was given an interminable list of things I was supposed to eat and sadly only accomplished checking off about half of them but then again there are only three meals in a day.

Day one consisted of getting myself thoroughly lost in the kind of way that only I can do. I’m so confident that with a map I can walk anywhere but KL got the best of me. Really not the world’s best walking city. Know how in dramatic desert movies the exhausted heroes at the point of collapse realize that they’ve actually been walking in circles? This happened to me, twice. I need GPS implanted into my brain.

Day two consisted of climbing high things. Petronas towers and Menara tower for bird’s eye views of the city, the latter bird being much higher up. The Petronas towers honestly weren’t that cool but what was phenomenal was waiting in line for two hours to get the tickets. Not a hint of sarcasm in Laura-who-has-the-attention-span-of-a-two-year-old’s voice. There were tourists from all over the world cramped into a small space that was supposed to have a ‘snaking queue’ without any of those little barrier things. So this was great because some cultures are very serious about their lines and orderly progression of such things while other cultures really don’t do lines at all. I watched this incredibly clash between and Indian woman who just sort of slipped in the line and a German man whose sense of self was offended by such a maneuver. He told the ticket seller on her and got her sent back to the end of the line from where she simply slid into another part of the line two seconds later. I think steam actually came out of the German guys’ ears. This went on for an hour, he’d get her sent back, she’d sneak back in. It was great. If she budged me I would totally have let her just out of shear awe of her persistence and due to the comical nature of it all. I sort of wanted to say to each of them “it’s a line! Get over it!” but instead chuckled to myself each time the event repeated themselves.

Day three involved grand plans to explore the Lake Gardens. They started with an aborted effort to walk there (didn’t learn my lesson on Day 1) and a phenomenal taxi ride to actually get there. I got in the taxi with this insanely old Hadj who gave me a long lecture on how Malaysia used to be and how it’s changing and what the future will hold. It was fascinating. So much so that when we arrived at the destination, we sat in the cab for another half hour talking (more him talking, me listening). We covered religion, consumerism, polygamy, the education system, and family planning. I forgot how much I love taxi drivers.

Upon arriving at the gardens I got my white pants filthy because frankly I’m not the kind of person who sees a tree swing and says “I better not swing on that because I have to walk through mud to get there and I’m wearing white pants”. Swing was totally worth it and I nearly had a heart attack when I realized I didn’t bring a pen with me so my romantic notions of journal writing in the shade of a tree with the smell of orchids wafting through the air was ruined!

I consoled myself by visiting the butterfly park wherein I got to see beautiful butterflies up close. The catch is they are not really beautiful up close, they look like bugs. Only when they are floating through the sky with shocks of color are they attractive creatures. Maybe Mother Nature was pissed at my sharp judgment of her creatures because it began to downpour. I found shelter under this tiny arch between the lizard cages where I stayed for the hour that it rained. I mostly had staring contests with the lizards and sang songs since the rain drained out my voice so only I could hear. I was actually quite contented. I love thunder storms and the lighting must have been right on top of us. After a full hour the staff of the Butterfly Park decided to send a guy out with umbrellas to rescue all the guests who were stranded under various structures.

My evenings were filled with the delightful company of Shaharris’s friends. Apparently all of Shaharris’s friends are named Johan with varying numbers of final N’s. They are all also wonderful and not just because Johann-two-n’s has my blog address :) If anyone is rolling through KL in August I hear there is a phenomenal play cast with rising stars about the life of the first Prime Minister.

Johann-two-n’s took me to a great dance performance of the traditional dances of different ethnic groups in Malaysia. It made me totally wish I was blessed with grace. The final piece was a modern dance about the balance of freedom and boredom which I don’t pretend to totally understand but there were some neat body movements that were particularly expressive. Fun fact: there are café’s entirely dedicated to board games. This is my kind of place. While I may be lifetime banned from playing spider solitaire, minesweeper, and boggle, there is no rule that I can’t start new obsessions.

Johan-one-n and I had a somewhat tumultuous attempt at meeting up that involved an Algerian man (see other entry) but when we finally connected we had a great time eating delicious food and driving around. Sad fact: apparently a little old man at Honda with a large sheet of paper covered in sketches and formulas did not design my car for me. Instead the company contracted out to massive firms like the one Johan works for to design different pieces of each vehicle. So much less romantic. I have also newly been inspired by him to do a proper tour of Australia for a few months if anyone’s interested.

My weekend ended with a really long wait (since I’m me and get places wicked early) in the low cost carrier terminal of the airport (read: crappy uncomfortable, cold, loud terminal). After a long delay, I flew out and when straight to work to be a zombie all day.