Malaysia: Truly Asia (KL)

On SE Asia television, there are lots of commercials for Malaysia tourism. Much like the South Carolina ads have the tagline "Smiling Faces, Beautiful Places", the Malaysian ads have a tagline: "Truly Asia".

Well, the ad campaign didnt inspire me to visit (I was planning to go anyway), but after visiting Malaysia, I can at least confirm that the ads are accurate. Malaysia IS truly Asia.

Really tall, shiny tower complex: Petronas Towers

In the last month or so, we've made two trips to Malaysia. As Singapore's neighbor on the peninsula, it is an easy place to visit and can be reached by car, bus, train, plane or boat.
Our first trip to Malaysia, we headed to Kuala Lumpur, the country's capital. Prior to moving to Asia, my knowledge of Kuala Lumpur was limited to the fact that it had a really tall, shiny tower complex that was once the tallest building in the world and has been seen in a couple of movies. Which was enough to make me want to visit. I love tall shiny buildings. Also, big old things.




What I didnt know about Kuala Lumpur (or "KL" as everyone here calls it) is that it has great shopping (think Fifth Avenue in NYC meets Rodeo Drive. EVERY major label has a shop in KL) and is a destination for people around Asia to vacation. While there, we saw several other Westerners and also lots of Arab people.Malaysia - especially KL - has a high Muslim population and attracts Muslims from other parts of the world to visit. 

Me outside the towers

What I find interesting is the juxtaposition of these  things. For example, we were strolling through the mall (adjacent to the Petronas towers) and saw stores targeting the "modern Muslim woman" with robes and head wraps in festive prints. But then we also saw woman in full birkas carrying bags from expensive stores. Does she wear fancy clothes under her birka, like in the (just plain awful) second Sex & The City movie? Does she wear them at home? Were the items gifts? Maybe the bags were all for her husband? 

As I'm tooling around town in my J. Crew seersucker shorts and Old Navy tank top, I wonder what these people think of me, with my exposed white skin and North American accent.....

Anyhoo.

The line for towers tickets

Me in the basement of the towers,
next to a scale model of the towers.

KL had big shiny towers. The Petronas Towers, home to the Petronas oil & gas company (among other companies) is a mixed-use building on offices, restaurants and retail. The aforementioned mall is attached to the towers. They sell tickets to the observation decks at 40 and 80 floors up, which was something I REALLY wanted to do. We'd heard that they sell out of tickets pretty fast, so we went to the towers straight away. No dice; they were already sold out. The helpful ticket agent told us to try again the next day, that the doors opened at 9, but people queued up earlier than that. So we went on about our day, exploring the city and made plans to return. Despite getting in line at 7:50am, we were too far back in line to get tickets to the observation deck before our bus back to Singapore.*

So we didnt go up the Petronas Towers, but we visited the KL tower (another awesome, tall shiny thing with a revolving restaurant in the top) and the top floor lounge of our hotel, which faced the Petronas Towers. We got to see plenty of beautiful KL skyline during the day and evening. We also saw Merdeka Square, the site of Malaysia's first independence rally in 1957 and saw such a beautiful mix or architecture style, inspired by the Middle East as well as European settlers.

  

 

Merdeka Square

The hotel bar

An awesome diorama of the city, on display in the KL
City Gallery.

The hotel bar

*Due to some...uh...travel snafus we had more time in KL than we thought and might could have gotten tix up the towers. Something about thinking our bus was at 12:30pm and really it was at 12:30am and we missed it and had to book last minute tix on an overnight train back to Singapore....but yeah.

Adventures in Busriding

Yeah....I dont know what was going on here. I think I was trying to blog on my phone, from the bus. And actual LIVE blog post. But apparently it didnt work.

My bad.

Just another quiet evening at home

It’s a little after 11pm and I decided that now would be a good time to close my front door.

I opened the door a couple of hours ago because it was kinda hot in my apartment (it’s warm outside and my apartment is not air-conditioned) and opening the door allows for added cross breeze of the lovely (and cooler) night air. My door opens directly onto the walkway above the parking lot in back of my apartment building, but there’s really only one neighbor who lives on that side, so I wasn’t worried about weirdos walking by or anything.

I was really glad I had the door open when I blew out all the candles, because the smoke could fly right out the door. But then, if I had opened the door earlier, it might have helped with the smell and I wouldn’t have had to light so many candles.

Let me back up a second.

I took the bus home from work (I sat up front near a strange lady and her dog and got caught up on
LOLcats on my phone) and decided to get some housework done tonight.

I checked the mail, discovered most of it was junk and proceeded to throw it away. My trash can was full, so I pulled the bag out of the can to take it out. Only something gross had happened and the bag was dripping a radioactive ooze…or some kind of weird orange drippiness that reeked to high heaven. So I tucked my nose into my tank top (which I was wearing because it’s hot) and wiped up the ewww on the floor. I got a new trash bag, put the drippy bag in it and took it out.

Back in the kitchen, I tucked my nose back into my tank top and began trying to figure out how to clean the inside of my trash can before the goo in there turned some unsuspecting reptile into a 6-foot martial arts master who wears colorful bandanas, likes to eat pizza and shares a named with a Renaisssance artist.

Since I don’t own a hose, I figured the shower was the best bet. I put the trash can in the shower, turned on the water and let it run a bit. Then I got out the can of Scrubbing Bubbles and sprayed the inside of the trash can. But there was still some stubborn crud (that I didn’t want to touch) so I got the toilet scrub brush and scrubbed it clean.

That was when I noticed that the outside of the trash can was looking a little cruddy as well. A little more Scrubbing Bubbles, scrub brush and shower water took care of that. That’s when I remembered that the tub drain was slow and I had some Liquid Plumr under the sink.

I pulled out the gray bottle, read the instructions and poured half the bottle down the drain. While waiting the requisite 15 minutes, I decided to wash some dishes, to ward off any lasting damage that might have been caused by their proximity to the nasty trash can disaster.

I then went back to the tub, chased the chemicals with hot water (as instructed) and was quite pleased with the result.

Except that now, I’m quite warm and my apartment smells like Scrubbing Bubbles, Liquid Plumr and remnants of trash can ewww. After turning on the fan, opening the windows and lighting a slew of candles, it’s not getting better. So I open the door to facilitate added circulation.

A couple of hours later, my apartment has cooled off and it no longer has an aroma that would paralyze rats. And since it’s getting late, I decided to close my door.

Douchebag of the Week

I'm going to have to give this week's award to my bus driver. We're cruising through downtown on the way to the office, making all the regular stops, with a slightly crowded bus, but nothing out of the ordinary.

Then we pull up at the Pike St. stop (as in Pike Place Market, as in heart of downtown) and people get off, people get on, I assume we'll be on our merry way shortly. Wrong. The bus rolls forward a few feet, then stops again (despite the green light and moving traffic) and the door re-opens. I assume there's someone running to catch the bus. Wrong. The bus driver starts hollering out the door at a man on the sidewalk.

"HEY! Hey man! HEY!"

Young guy looks around confused, trying to see who the driver is yelling at.

"Hey you! Yeah you! Hey buddy...do you have another one of them cigarettes? Can I get one of them?"

Yes, my bus driver held up traffic and our bus route to scream out the bus at a stranger on the sidewalk to beg for a cigarette that he apparently was planning to smoke while driving my bus.

More bizarre than truly douche, but still.

OH! Did you want to exit our row?

I ride the bus to and from work each day. It's a great way to commute...I get to read/write/put on make-up/people watch/sleep while someone else deals with the traffic. I dont have to pay for parking and my company pays for a monthly bus pass for me. The bus comes often and is usually on time and picks me up a few blocks from my place of living and drops me off a few blocks from my place of employment.


During the morning and evening commute, the bus is generally filled with people like myself: people who work downtown but live the neighborhoods just beyond the downtown core. They take the bus rather than driving to work because it's fun, easy, cheap, etc.


Most people are very understanding of the awkward situations dictated by riding the bus. Accidental jostlings, bumpings, nudgings and the like are dealt with quickly and politely, with an understanding nod or smile. People are generally courteous, making apologies for accidental bumpings, saying excuse me when shuffling by someone in the aisle and so on.


But there is a large portion of the bus-riding population who are lacking the manners in one crucial area of the bus-riding experience.


When you are seated by the window, with someone seated beside you on the aisle, say EXCUSE ME when it's your turn to get off the bus. Don't expect them to just KNOW that this is your stop. Don't expect them to have noticed the special way in which you grasped your murse, which indicates you're preparing to disembark. As the bus slows, politely say "Excuse me" or "this is my stop" or "pardon me, may I slip by you" or "dude, I'm rolling out" or something. DO NOT grunt, roll your eyes or make other impatient noises at the person unfortunate enough to be seated beside you. DO NOT turn slightly in your seat and stare at me expectantly without speaking, waiting for me to a) notice you b) guess that you'd like to get out and c) react accordingly.

I mean, really.