Kuala Lumpur - Give Me Shelter!

Kuala Lumpur - Mon, March 1, 2004
Mid Afternoon

(copied from scribblings while cafe squatting, and desperately seeking respite from being lost in the sweltering and teeming street scene)

It's my first full day in KL. I finally got a good night's sleep after 40 hours of mostly sleepless traveling, fast decisions, and lost bags. No doubt about it, this is a city in overdrive! I've spent the first half of today running pragmatic shopping errands and getting directions and advice, for hours. Often via pantomime with people who's language I don't speak. Seems there's at least 3 languages I don't know how to say "thank you" in. I'm slightly embarrassed, and beat!

How hot and humid is it? Steam drifts off of my iced drink, and my journal pages curl as I write. And this is in the shade, which is even further cooled by clouds of mist billowing from the loudly roaring swamp cooler fans surrounding the umbrella bedecked cafe patio. You gotta give Starbucks credit for trying to cool the expats and wilting tourists. Yes... I've succumbed to the comforts of iced coffee and the familiar! Knowing a place takes the edge off of it, for better or worse. In the case of KL, it'd be a good thing. Meanwhile, there's (still overpriced) Starbucks. I'm glad my laptop is safely encased in a large ziplock and it's new moisture resistant backpack. It will be a challenge to protect all my digital equipment from corrosion and overheating during the next 6 months in SE Asia. No doubt, I'm pushing the bubble. Unfortunately, ridiculously vigilant overcompensation will be the key... and extended warranties! Dehumidifier pellets anyone?

How loud and hectic is it? Delivery trucks back into swirling crowds while their warning signals repeatedly and murderously screech like limp versions of that famous music from Hitchcock's shower scene. Buses double park during driver breaks, locals jaywalk whenever impossible, and cab drivers miraculously negotiate what's left of the narrow streets. This china town / little India/ Central Market area, where I'm staying, is teaming with endless processions of people with a mission. Throngs of Asians in every hue, mill and glide. Mostly Indian, Malaysian, and Chinese live here, though other Asians seem to be visiting. Some women in head scarves float by in extravagantly colored loose fitting robe and skirt combinations, with smartly placed decorative pins holding it all together. Some lazy gangly adolescents bunch their headscraves over modern tight fitting clothes. Bare headed women also abound in varying dress and degrees of modernity. The Indian women seem to prefer the extremely loose fitting outfits with tapered pants. Frankly, the women were such peacocks, I don't remember what the men wore. Most all the women are wearing lady like shoes and nice handbags. Despite my Indian outfit, my Tivas and backpack give me away as a tourist. Still, I delight in confusing some. It seems that most assume that anyone Asian looking, and not toting hello kitty items, must be from here. I plan to bridge the awkward gap a bit, by learning a few courteous and useful phrases via the internet and helpful locals.

Well... off to find my way back to my guest house.


Kuala Lumpur - Mon, March 1, 2004

___ Evening In my room___
After many false starts, and conflicting directions from well meaning locals, I finally found my hotel. I recharged most of my batteries (metaphorically and literally)... courtesy of stuff I bought today (new electrical adaptor, shampoo, talcum, face powder) and a fabulously thorough scrubbing and cool shower. I was glad that the bizarre looking adapter combinations didn't short anything out, or otherwise fry my expensive digital equipment.

Well, it's time to forage the streets for dinner. My appetite couldn't keep up with my intriguing culinary opportunities today. There were many locals only haunts I was loathe to skip. But, considering my penchant for traveling in circles, I'm bound to run into at least one of them again! I hope to find a fellow traveler to share a meal with... it would cut down on the intimidation factor of being an outsider, especially as a woman alone that doesn't speak the language. I feel safe (mostly), though I feel awkward and a little lonely. Where's Chantal?

Oh... I almost forgot to mention. My first night here, the young owner of the downstairs reggae bar leapt at the opportunity to engage my services as a muralist and web designer. I'm afraid the exchange rate is NOT in his favor... especially since he's made noises about his thin profit margin. I gave him free advice, and put off all decisions with the understanding I was WAY too tired to consider new business on only 2 hours of sleep in 30 hours. The fact that he didn't pick up my overpriced dinner tab of fried rice and bottled water didn't bode well!