KP in KL: May 2010

Good morning Kuala Lumpur!

Posted by Katherine Stern ,

Good Morning Kuala Lumpur! For some reason I had the urge to scream that from the hotel balcony this morning, but then I remembered we don't have a balcony and the windows don't open. So I'll settle for screaming that on the internet. The past few days have been very good, although there's nothing extremely exciting to talk about. I have had more cases of "User Errors" which I'm sure I will continue to have until our last day here. But, I continue to laugh at myself with each mishap and laugh even harder when I realize I'm probably the cause of lots of laughing commotion between the locals here who are so "lucky" to be a part of my learning experiences. After all, things could me much worse. I could be forced to order an unknown meat in grams instead of an unknown meat that is at least labeled as turkey! So, thanks to everyone for the words of encouragement, tips, and tricks. They remind me that I'm really not so far away from everyone.

I've been reluctant to take my larger SLR camera around with me, because I never know when I will find myself lost again in Bukit Bintang or Timbuktu and would rather not take the chance of having my camera taken from around my neck by a passing motorcyclist. As a result, the pictures I have today were taken on my iphone and are a little fuzzy.

Yesterday I woke up bound and determined to walk down Jalan Ampang to see what kind of stores might be useful when we actually move into our apartment and mainly to take Paul to see Hock Choon, one of the local grocery stores on the street. Jalan is the word for Street, and Ampang is the street name, aka Embassy Road. Our apartment shares this street with many Embassies such as the British, French, and several others. All of the embassy buildings are highly guarded with very tall fences and look like large mansions with giant chandeliers hanging over the front entryway outside. As we walked we discovered this Embassy was very serious about their security. Paul quickly snapped a photo so not to draw too much attention to himself to prevent questioning from the 3 guards who sat at the front gate. Take a good look at the top of the fence line.

If their fence is covered in glass shards there's no telling what kind of Jack Bower inspired interrogation they might do! We kept walking down Jalan Ampang, passing more embassies, and the heat of the day began wearing on us. While we dreamed about the cold a/c and water we would find at Hock Choon, Paul started to question just how far this Hock Choon place I described actually was. Of course my excellent sense of direction finally got us there, but not after quite a long walk and quite a good amount of sweat beading down our faces. Our excitement upon our arrival was quickly extinguished when we realized they are closed on Sunday. Oops!

While not exactly the most fun adventure, it was a very good thing we went. We discovered the grocery store is not exactly within walking distance, and most definitely not within walking distance to the apartment when carrying several bags of groceries on a hot afternoon. I will be taking a "teksi".

We crossed from the boarded Hock Choon side of the street over the street bridge to a little restaurant called Secret Recipe. I think it's like McDonald's here with over 160 locations in Malaysia and some 50 or more in other Asia Pac countries. We both ordered Lemon Frosties to cool us down, and take a look at what was on the menu!

I gobbled down this salad like a very large rabbit and was so happy to get my vegetables in for the week,... or maybe these will have to last me the month. Since our Hock Choon exploration had been quickly cancelled, we decided to take a trip to Ikea. We knew there was one in the area, and planned on relying on the taxi to make the short jog around the city and drop us off, so we jumped in the Taxi.

Staring me in the face on the back of the driver's seat was this sign:

Thanks to the internet, I believe this translates to, "Be polite. Do not do indecent acts in the Taxi". I suppose this guy must have been a witness to some PG-13 incidents. In addition to the sign, we noticed a strange smell, and Paul asks me if I thought the guy had been tooting in the car. Very embarrassed, I whispered no and told him to shhh! Paul whispers to me that the guy doesn't speak English so I felt a little better. After all, Paul was the one doing all the talking trying to get the man to understand we wanted to go to Ikea, or E.K.I.A as the taxi driver called it, and not KLIA the airport. So we drove and drove and drove, and while looking at the beautiful green exotic scenery we realized E.K.I.A was much farther than we thought. It took about 30 minutes but we finally arrived and the taxi driver began telling us in very good English all about the Damansara are we were in and showing us the entrance to the Ikea building. I still think he completely understood Paul when he asked about the taxi driver passing gas, but Paul seems to think "tooting" is not a word they would have in their vocabulary. I guess that's another thing we will never know.

At Ikea, we were on a mission to find some casual dining dishes for the apartment. We could have shipped our dishes from home, but from Paul's moving experience, he said they always had a few things broken, so I didn't want to take that chance. So, we started at the beginning, and made our way around the long path through the store, following the arrows. If you've ever been through Ikea you know very well there is really only one way in, and one way out, and you can't get to the exit without walking the entire store which is quite large. We quickly realized we were the only people on a mission like typical Americans and would have to fight the crowd moving at a snails pace. This place was completely packed which reminded me of the museum we visited in Taipei. We were going no where fast. We reached the end to find no full sets of plates, but a very very full cafeteria. I'm wondering if some people go to Ikea just to eat, because this place was unreal and this picture doesn't do it justice.

We walked across the street to another mall, (I've been in more malls in the past two weeks than I have in my lifetime) to find an open air market in the center of the mall with more handicrafts. Paul insisted I take a picture of the cow because it was "like a little reminder of home".

After another fruitless search for dishes, we headed to a mall called the gardens, where we had spotted some that I liked earlier in the week and bought them. The hunt was over. Keep in mind there is not a Target or Walmart, or any large one stop shopping kind of store. So, finding these dishes has been a rather tedious event. I had previously shopped at both department stores in the KL area only to find that if you're not a fan of Corelle dishes with viny flower like drawings on the sides, then you're almost out of luck. I've also decided that department stores are where you buy everything that you might usually find at walmart, including school supplies or goggles, which after an hour search I finally found the goggles for Paul's morning swim next to the Monte Blanc pens inside Parkson department store.

I thought these dishes were fun and with an Asian design, especially with the rice bowl, it was fitting for our location.I guess we will be eating a lot of rice! Especially since after much deliberation we "had" to buy 8 sets. We thought about two just for us, but that idea grew to four sets in case we have people visit, which then grew two 6 sets since that's how many people our table here sits, and finally we stopped the count at 8 for when we bring them back to the states. Our table there sits 8, so it made perfect sense to me that we would have to have the complete set.

On our way out of Robinsons department store (which is very much like Macys or Dillards) we were carrying loaded down bags of dishes in both arms and I was stopped by the makeup ladies, or as Paul referred to them as, the makeup "lady boys". Three of them were trying to sell me eyelashes, and had it not been for their deep voices the only way I would have realized they were lady boys and not just ladies was when they one by one but very quickly got up in my face close enough to show me their left eye without the fake eyelashes, and the right eye with the fake eyelashes, pointing to them and saying "See, see!" I was a little surprised to have lady boys in my face so quickly, and a little shocked that they weren't just ladies that I had a hard time focusing on the eye lashes. I told them I would take a look next time I returned. Not sure I will be returning to Robinsons. I wish I had a picture to show for that one! We took the taxi back to the hotel after cramming our four bags of dishes and ourselves into the back seat. The trunk of taxi's here have the gas tank actually in the trunk and it looks like a large bottle of propane. Is that dangerous?

Saturday was for the most part uneventful, besides our shopping trip to Mid Valley. This is the area outside of KL city that has what's called the Mega Mall, and we've heard people rave about it. We walked around for quite a while, but to us it was just another mall. I think we'll stick to the two big malls here in KLCC.

Friday started with a trip around town on the way to my meeting with the UNHCR. UNHCR is on the street Bukit Petaling Jaya, which is not to be confused with Jalan Petaling. We of course confused the two, so we took a very long detour on the subway to Merdeka Square, and walked the rest of the way to Jalan Petaling, or the China Town area. After the usual confusion and sweat at 1pm in the afternoon, we decided the taxi should determine our fate and rode to the actual location of the UNHCR. We passed the king's house on the way, which was very large with really pretty landscaping and a tall wrought-iron fence around the entire property.

The UNHCR is in an old mansion situated on top of a hill. We had to talk through the fence to the 4 guards on the property to let them know why we were there. Security seemed pretty strict as they wouldn't even let us through the gate until someone from the building came to meet us. I figured it was probably not the place to take pictures seeing that the code of conduct I was given layed out many rules for not making pictures, people,and places related to the refugees public. The meeting went well with Yante, the woman I will be helping with the design work. I am designing their corporate folder, and she's asked me to be a sound board for some design ideas for World Refugee Day in June. They've also asked me to help design a catolog of some sort by the end of the week, as another volunteer has just bailed on that project. She also said whenever I feel ready to teach English, let her know and there are always plenty of positions available. The English classes are taught to school age children by incorporating other subjects and activities such as science, math, art, singing, etc. I might start doing that after the move to the apartment, which by the way has been moved to June 16th. Two more weeks in the hotel.

I cancelled my meeting with the YMCA. After meeting with UNHCR and realizing they have enough work to keep me busy if I want it, I decided to spend my time with them only. The big downside to the YMCA is there is no easy way to get there. Especially since I don't have a car. It's also in an area that I would be very nervous in by myself. So, I'm thankful the UNHCR has lots of volunteer opportunities for me.

Afterwards we headed back to Petaling Street and went to China Town. Paul was determined to get a good deal on something. He was very happy to find a knock off Rolex, which of course he did all his research for to make sure it was a "grade A fake".

Of course the rest of the weekend was filled with lots of eating. We attempted to eat at an Italian restaurant, with Italian owners and chefs, but got their 30 minutes too early. We'll have to try it out next week. And in case you're wondering, yes all this eating out twice a day for the past 17 or so days has lead to my very blimp-like state. I feel larger than the Hindenburg, but thankfully I can still get my pants buttoned! And as for this week, there's nothing special on the calendar, but I'm sure I'll find some trouble to get myself in. Friday is the King's birthday, so it's a public holiday! Hopefully we can make a trip to the beach or somewhere that would make for an entertaining story! Enjoy the pictures below.

The concierge said this giant moth/butterfly is part of the hotel staff. He lives in the bushes by the hotel entrance, but hangs out all day on the window.

The main street by our hotel at night with a weepy kind of tree that are so common here.

The chocolaty indulgence I helped myself to while Paul was at work.

The grass partition inside the hotel lobby. They are serious when they say it's a green building!

Petronas Towers over the tree tops of the hotel pool area.

The Pavilion Mall. Ground floor is nothing but message chairs and salesmen.

Chicken on hooks served for Chicken Rice.

Another mall

Donuts that people eat for meals here well after breakfast time.

The hotel pool at night. I'm tempted to get in that hammock, but I'm sure I'd be the one to flip a few times and land in the pool.

2 comments

USER ERROR!

Posted by Katherine Stern ,

I have come to the horrible realization that my hard learned math skills from elementary school are going to do me no good here in KL. As most of you know, I have a tough enough time just doing regular math, and now I have to learn a whole new system of units! I've gotten a decent grasp of converting US dollars to Ringits (thank goodness for that or we might be broke). However, today at the grocery store I went to buy lunch meat and asked for a 1/4 pound of sliced turkey. It seemed like a normal request at the time until it dawned on me that the reason my turkey was causing so much commotion in the back was because they only knew how to serve it up in grams. I wish I had an automatic built in converter in my head. It would be useful in so many ways. I ended up just asking for 8 slices of turkey since I didn't even know where to begin in grams, and the guy behind the counter laughed at me. I've decided the second best thing to an in-head automatic converter is an engineer husband who is light years faster than me when it comes to doing anything with numbers. He will be coming with me on the next grocery trip.

To update you on my volunteering status, I've got a meeting with the UNHCR Friday to discuss the requirements for the corporate folder. I'm officially going to be working on that project since they seemed impressed with my portfolio. As far as I know the photography and English teaching positions are still being worked on. Also, I'm meeting with the YWCA on Monday to discuss volunteer options. The trouble is I'm not exactly sure how much time will be required by either, and if it's even possible for me to volunteer for both groups. I guess it's a good thing it's called volunteer so that I can be a little picky about my times if I need. I've decided that I will meet with both organizations and then decide after the meetings which organization to work with or how to split up the work. I like having options.

Paul and I have been getting some good experience with the public....I don't even know what you call it...systems here. You have to make an appointment for almost everything here. We needed to get some papers notarized so we began our search on the internet for notaries in the banks. We found it very strange that here you must be an attorney to be a notary. And, you have to make an appointment to see one. So it took us 4 days to get in with the attorney to get a single notarization. We are going to have a good experience at the bank Thursday to open a bank account, which we also had to make an appointment for 3 days in advance. We've been told to bring a book and expect about a 2-3 hour wait just to open an account at HSBC. I thought the post office, or POS as it's called here, would have a similar wait and was surprised I didn't have to make an appointment! So, I experienced the POS wait today, which was surprisingly efficient and almost quicker than the USPS. My wait lasted about 4 minutes, but it would have been shorter had I been able to read Bahasa Melayu. You have to take a number either from ticket line A or B, and for some reason B seemed like it was calling my name, so I chose B and sat for a few minutes. Then I realized that B was to pay bills. Why people are paying bills at the post office, I'm not sure. So I threw away my B number and pulled an A number and was buying stamps in no time. So, I won't complain about the post office system. When I went to drop the mail in the correct box, again it wasn't entirely in English, so my mail may be going to Timbuktu before it reaches the States.

While I'm shedding light on my Delayed Adaption to all things Maylay Disorder, let's talk about cell phones. First, we're using a prepaid sim card that you reload in 30 Ringit increments. We've had them for over a week now, and my card's balance is 29 Ringits. Paul's however has already been reloaded three times in 30 Ringit increments thanks to his love for a game where he shoots cows and gophers with a slingshot. And yes, it's just as exciting as it sounds. I tried to explain that just because we're on wi-fi doesn't mean it's not using the 30 Ringits on the sim card, but he didn't believe me. On his third reload, he finally deleted the slingshot game.
In addition, phone numbers here are just weird. Some have two dashes, some have one dash, some have more digits than others, and I can't figure out how it works. I've tried calling the realtor a few times and can't get it right, as well as the bank and some other places. Apparently sometimes you leave off the first number or add a number to the beginning. Maybe I will catch on to the number thing when I start successfully ordering my sliced turkey in grams.

Any way you look at it, I have a serious learning curve to overcome. I feel like I've had a big sign on my forehead that flashes the words "USER ERROR" at everyone who's watching me drop the mail into a box that I have no idea where it's going, or when I hold up the line for the subway because my card is out of money, or when I go on a hike practically to Thailand trying to find the subway. On the upside, the process of getting the apartment that we want requires absolutely nothing from me except moving in. Looks like unless they use some sort of secret sorority knock or Bahasu Melayu password for entrance instead of keys, we might be in the apartment by June 1st!

3 comments

Nightmares and Sweet Dreams

Posted by Katherine Stern ,

On a hunt for the elusive hair dryer, I began my weekend. I like to think my weekend really starts on Friday, so Friday a.m. is where this very non-fictional story begins. Wednesday and Thursday last week I kept talking myself out of going to the Pavilion Mall by myself with the help of some very convincing words from my parents like, "The taxi driver might try to sell the blonde girl for 10,000 Ringit!" But, by Friday I was so tired of not only being a sissy tourist, but a sissy tourist with extremely bad hair, so I took the plunge and called a Taxi. Actually, the hotel called the taxi for me, and not just a regular taxi but the blue taxi, so I was riding in style. The blue taxi's are newer and larger cars with drivers who speak English well enough that I am able to understand them (now that's some good English!). They usually double as tour guides around KL, so on the way to the Pavilion I got the run down on places to see and things to do. The ride alone was not near as intimidating as I thought, and I tried to take note of street signs and landmarks on my way there in case I ever needed to get somewhere on my own. When the taxi stopped, I dug through my change in my wallet sized purse to give him 10.60 RM (ringit) or about $3.00, and I was successful at finding 10.50, but I was very confused why he would not accept the last ten cents I tried to give him three times. Finally he told me to get out of the taxi, that the 10.50 would suffice, so I got out and confidently walked myself through the sliding glass doors of yet another wonderful mall and began my 3 hour journey to discover every store in the mall while Paul was at work.

On the list of important places to find was a hair salon, which I successfully uncovered accidentaly while I was happily distracted with the huge contemporary arts and furnishings wing on the 6th floor of the mall. So I took a card from the Andy Ho salon for future reference, and inquired about a hairdryer. By the way my hair looked, and the way the manager/top hair dresser was looking at my hair so grossed out, I felt desperately in need of not only a good hair dryer, but a good makeover as well. I decided to save that for another day and trekked on to the bookstore while I waited for the new hairdryer to arrive in an hours time. FYI All of this nonsense is leading up to a very good story. So, I looked around the bookstore, found some good books to buy and headed back to get the hairdryer.

Note: I have to talk about money here so you understand exactly how I found myself in the upcoming predicament. When I left the hotel room, I heard Paul's voice in my head reminding me, "Always leave with enough cash to get you through the day," because usually I never carry cash and usually rely on debit/credit cards because it's easier. In KL, few people use plastic, and they deal in such large numbers that I have to make a conscious effort to fill my purse with paper money. I left with 400 ringit ($117. 64) in my purse thinking that would be more than enough.

So back at the bookstore, I spent a little less than $60 US, which comes out to a whopping 200 something Ringit. More than half of my money is gone, but no worries because I still have almost 200 Ringit left for the hairdryer and taxi, and should be able to pay with my credit card to ensure I don't give away all of the cash. When I go back to buy the hairdryer, it's 180 Ringit, so I reach for my credit card only to find it is sitting happily in the safe back at the hotel room. The man at the salon was not thrilled when I told him I didn't have enough money for the hair dryer and taxi home, especially because he made a special trip to his other salon in the last hour just to get the hair dryer for me. So we had a very friendly discussion/argument and from his side everything was fine because I had enough money for the hair dryer. On my side, I was trying to get him to realize that a hairdryer would do me no good if I had no money to get back home to even dry my hair! In the end he won and I payed him the 180 RM and lugged the hair dryer and my books out of the store realizing I only had 9RM to pay for a taxi, and it cost me over 10 to get here. So I walked with plan B in mind - I would just walk home as I had done from various other places throughout the city already in the past week.

Before even leaving the mall, Plan B was overthrown by Plan C which was to use my already purchased subway (or LRT) card and take the subway back since the woman at the concierge desk informed me it was a 45 minute walk back to the hotel from the Pavilion Mall. Plan B was obviously not an option in the heat of the day. The security guard outside of the mall points me in the very indirect way of what he assured me was the nearest LRT station. So I take off like a pack mule with my 55 pound bag of books and hair dryer box bigger than me, determined to make it back without having to call Paul to rescue me. As I'm crossing through traffic and walking through mud puddles where the side walks have caved in, I tried to find this LRT station that I'm beginning to think is non-existent. I keep walking and crossing traffic, and walking and crossing traffic to find myself back in Bukit Bintang, the area where the motorcycle riding "gangsters" are notorious for purse snatchings, and I begin to get a little nervous. If I was a motorcycle riding gangster, I would totally snatch my purse hair dryer and books. I am confident that I looked like a maimed duck with a giant target on my back as I was sweating and so tired of lugging the books around, with a total look of exhaustion and confusion on my face, not to mention my neon yellow shirt that made me additionally stick out of the corporate lunch crowd walking around me so quickly. When I finally come to the realization that I will never be able to find the LRT station, I decide to ask the two cops who look to be very friendly if they could just point me in that direction. That was a terrible idea. One cop started laughing uncontrollably to the point where he just turned his back to me, and the other got enough words out in between his laughs to tell me there's no LRT around. I would have to take the other train to the last stop, then get on the LRT to take it back to the hotel. I had no idea how to even find the other train, so I turned around in humiliation to attempt to find my way back to the Pavilion mall, in the heat, and still with my weighty now 500 pound bags weighing me down. Back through the traffic, through the mud puddles, and somehow through one of the malls Stephanie took us to a week ago, I recognized some street signs and managed to see the Pavilion in the distance. It was like an Oasis. Sweet sweet air con (as they call it here) and a place to sit. I high-tailed it back into the Pavilion very discouraged that after all that effort the only progress made was in crossing plans B and C off my list. I was back to the drawing board.

As I sat and thought for a while, I decided to dig out every last coin and do a recount just in case I might have a last cent for a taxi to take me to my destination. While I was counting, I realized half of my change was actually Chinese money which I acquired from who knows where, which is why the taxi driver wouldn't accept my last 10 cents. Ah hah! So the grand total in Ringits came out to 11.20, and I went to find a taxi home. Surely this would be enough! The taxi driver took me for a rookie, or probably even a maimed duck as I felt, and said he'd take me back for 20 ringit. When I told him that was too much, he shrugged his shoulders. No help.

Then a last resort which I was so dreading came into play. I would simply return the books and get my money back to pay for the taxi. I got my receipt out to begin the exchange and realized no returns are allowed. In the entire mall! By this time you can imagine my frustration was to the roof. I reassured myself that things could be much worse. After all, this was my dream scenario: me, trapped in a mall, with no way to get out. So I calmed down. Now onto plan X,Y, or Z. I swallowed my pride and called Paul to see if he had any words of advice. He said to take the taxi and he would leave his meeting to come down and meet me upon my arrival and pay for the taxi for me. What a bright idea!

So I made my way to the metered taxi stand and hoped they would be more merciful than the 20 Ringit driver. After driving me back to the hotel, I realized the metered taxi is the way to go. The grand total came out to 5 ringit. Enough left for me to buy lunch for myself now, and I didn't even have to call Paul to save me. What a nightmarish start to the weekend. It's all part of the experience right?

While my lovely little outing to the Pavilion was not exactly a complete success, the rest of the weekend did not follow suit, thankfully. Friday night we went to a street called Changket and tried a Spanish Tapas and Wine bar. Surprisingly, the food was really quite good and did make the list of places we would go again.

The whole street is lined with little restaurants and lit up signs which you can't really make out from the picture. It seems to be a popular hang-out among British expats, so I did manage to find a fellow albino-like woman along the way. While we were leaving a young girl was scolded by her mother for staring at me.

Saturday started out with a bang as we made plans to visit Merdeca Square, the area famous for the many historical buildings.

It used to be the capital for the area and the government building is still there. We took the subway, which I should mention isn't usually pleasant smelling, through 4 or 5 stops and walked out of the station to a very rainy street where we took cover under the Burger King awning and bought an umbrella at the 7/11. It rains almost every day here, but only for a few minutes. The rain comes in spurts just long enough to cool things off so it's quite welcome in KL. We managed to see the minaret (the tower like structure where the call to prayer is done) peeking over the tops of the palm trees, which then pointed us in the proper direction towards the oldest mosque in KL. The architecture was like nothing I've ever seen in person, so it was a great find. There were a few men on mats in the mosque, but we didn't really get close enough for more details than that.

When we got to Merdeca Square, people were setting up for the Colors of Malaysia festival that was going to happen that night. We were only a few hours early so we missed out on the singing and dancing that goes on, but did manage to try some new foods. And with Paul's charm and good looks, he convinced a woman who didn't speak English to let him stir a giant vat of some sort of sweet sugary treat, that really didn't look sweet or like a treat. She quickly took the stirring paddle away when she realized he was burning her form of income to the bottom of the pot, but was happy to have her picture taken.

Afterwards we continued our trip to China Town once again to see what kind of deals we could walk away with. Anyone who is familiar with my lack of ability to haggle or give anything less than asking price would be very proud of me. The man wanted 350 ringit for this Jimmy Choo purse, so I stood firm at 125 rm, but somehow I ended up paying 150 rm. Still, it was a steal in my mind. However, I've since thought to myself that I don't know if Jimmy Choo even makes purses to even model a fake one after. I guess I will have a one of a kind original fake! Paul made friends with the movie selling kid and got a few DVD's. Next time we go back we're to ask for Ubi Ubi to get a good deal. Working up a rapport with these China Town people could be beneficial. We'll see in trips to come.

China Town then lead us to the Central Market which is within walking distance to China Town. The entire China Town and Central Market area are definitely marked by lower income families with many people begging on the side of the streets. These beggars look sincerely in need and make you want to throw your wallet in their plastic cups of change. The streets are significantly dirtier, and the buildings older. Nevertheless, the people seem just as friendly and willing to point us in the direction of Central Market. We arrived to find lots of food stalls outside and kids playing soccer. People were sitting all around eating and talking like it was their regular place to be at lunch time on a Saturday. Inside the building it was set up like a two story shopping mall with small shops everywhere. Vendors selling handicrafts and clothing, scarves, silk, jewelry and anything else you might want with a Malaysian flair lined the walls. Paul followed behind while I touched almost every piece of fabric in every store, wishing I had a reason to wear a beautiful wool scarf. After a few hours a British man tagged along with his wife who seemed to be in a trance like me and said to Paul, "You'll be mad by the end of all this!" I was glad to know I'm not the only person who was enthralled with this stuff.

Of course any good blog post can't go without mentioning food. We went upstairs in the Central Market to the food court for our first try at Chicken Rice. No, it's not Chicken and Rice, it's just Chicken Rice. It's the number one Malay food, so we've heard. The rice is cooked in Chicken Broth, or you can order another kind that's cooked in coconut juice. We had the regular chicken rice (cooked in chicken broth) for a small price of $1.45 US. Now I understand how everyone is able to go out for lunches. The food was actually pretty good but you have to eat the chicken from around the bones that will surprise you because it's not a regular chicken breast or wing. Not sure what part they cut up to get this shape, but there were a few crunchy parts to it that I left on my plate.

At that, we retraced our steps back to the LRT station and rode the subway to the hotel where we finished the night up with a movie from China Town. Sunday was another good day since it lacked any lost adventures of mine. We started with Church at St. Andrew's again, which was so busy we ended up sitting in the prayer closet because the seats were full. So of course I took a picture while we were in that closet so you could see the old style of the chapel. After the service was over the fellow Texan, who we met last Sunday, invited us to lunch with her husband and three children. We headed back to what has become our stompin' grounds, the Suria KLCC mall, All the kids all wanted Chilis, so we were happy to do salads again. It was great getting to know them and hearing tips they have learned from their 2 years here. One thing I found interesting was they have witnessed several motorcycle accidents where the crash is almost always the fault of the motorcyclist, and several times they have passed bodies on the road side. I am glad we will not be driving here. Apparently if there is an accident traffic will come to a halt because everyone gets out of their cars to take pictures. Not sure what that's all about. Maybe the same sort of thing that causes the entire movie theater here in KL to scream like little girls when the kid in the Twilight movie removes his shirt. Not sure what that's all about either. As you can see we had some interesting discussion at lunch.

Another tidbit they told us about is during the summer, most of the expat women and children go back home for summer vacation, and many women from the middle east come to KL for summer vacation because the temperature is cooler here. Imagine that! So the malls are filled with women in all black during the summer. The traditional Malay garb for women is to cover their heads but not their faces, and they may or may not wear a long tunic like shirt/dress. All of their clothing is very colorful and some has very bold patterns. Pay no attention to the man in the turquoise shirt.

Another thing to clear up. In mentioning the heat and humidity here, I think I've made it sound just scorching. So here's the real story on the weather. It basically feels like a Houston summer here year round. So days like today the high is somewhere in the low/mid 90's and the lows at night are mid 80's. The humidity again is about the same as Houston. The frizzy hair, sweat, and other problems come along with the fact that it is very common for many public places not to have AC in many parts of the building. For example, the little mall across the street with a food court does not have AC unless you're actually in one of the stores, so the walk there, the walk up the stairs, and while you're eating at the food court just stays hot and there is no relief from the heat unless you get to a place that's open with a breeze. Also, on my trip through 9 high-rises the other day, the waiting area and elevators did not have a/c or even a fan of any sort, and then the elevator lobbies and units I viewed did not have a/c turned on. As you can imagine it just starts to get very hot when the majority of your time during the day is spent in the heat.

On another note, I heard back from the UNHCR! They are searching for volunteers and had me fill out an application so they could place me in the area I'm interested in. Today they wrote back again and said they have reviewed the application and I should wait to hear back from them on my final placement. They would like me to teach English or do some external photography work or both. They have also asked if I could help design a new corporate folder for them. Hopefully my portfolio can be dusted off enough to get me this volunteering gig. I'm looking forward to getting started in that and hopefully making a difference in some people's lives. Aside from the billion dollar malls and hotels here, it's very obvious that so many people here are in need. Maybe I could make a small dent in the big picture. Here's a link if you would like to know more about the refugees the UNHCR helps. http://www.unhcr.org.my/project/unhcr/theme/images/swf/refugeesinmsia.swf

Also, the only American Association here is pretty much on break for the summer, so once we get our permanent address (keeping our fingers crossed for June 1) we can join the group and then start joining in on activities when they resume in August or September. And last but not least, food, food, food! It seems like that's all I talk about. We found the dumpling restaurant that we ate at in Taipei, called Din Tai Fung I believe. So we had some pork dumplings and again, they didn't let me down. Now the old adage that "you are what you eat" has never seemed more true. I am almost positive that at first glance in the mirror this morning I saw a pork filled Chinese dumpling staring back at me. And I thought being lost around the Pavilion Mall was a nightmare!

(That's the end of today's novel. But at the request of several people I'm including lots of pictures below.)

Paul ordering food and neon green lime juice.

Enjoying the lime juice and umbrella.

Trying to clarify what kind of meat is in the food exactly.

The lawn area at Merdeca Square where the festival will be.

Nope, not a lollipop. Actually it's chicken on a stick breaded in bright orange stuff.

Paul trying to stir the dessert but actually letting it burn.

Flowers like this seem to grow everywhere in KL.
The awesome looking bag strapped to me is actually my camera bag.

A giant fountain of some sort.

I liked the giant weird looking leaves.

For 2 RM you can use this public squatter behind the blue sliding doors.

The Ice Cream Man with paper cups for bumpers. Lucky for that car he

didn't run out of cups for the day!

Fresh coconuts they will cut up for you to drink the juice.

Tallest flag pole in the world with the Malaysian flag on it.

A famous fountain at Merdeca Square with the yellow and grey train in the background.

The chili pepper sculpture in the hotel lobby.

Paul wanted to make sure everyone knew there's a western union

should anyone have the desire to wire some money to us.

Traffic. Green China Town facade in the background.

Some more interesting architecture.

5 comments

You say Teksi, I say Taxi

Posted by Katherine Stern ,

To satisfy our craving for vegetables last night, we found one of the few restaurants that served salad was Chili's. Of course their salads aren't even that nutritious, but even the thought of lettuce was enough for us to give in and skip the local food for one night. We noticed the local ketchup, while still Hines 57, was favored at every table over the US ketchup.

Stephanie verified today that there aren't any salad or vegetable restaurants because Maylays like meat and rice. So, the countdown has begun to June 1 when we will move into the apartment complete with a refrigerator so I can at least keep a head of lettuce or Chinese spinach. The apartment we've chosen is a good size and had the most well equipped kitchen of any that I saw. I'm wondering if most people here eat out though because the oven is about the same size of a microwave and only has one rack inside. I will have to learn to cook for only 2 instead of 10. Some upsides to the new place, called Ampang 183, is it happens to be right across the street from Paul's office and has a patio large enough to sit on if we ever get used to the heat. The private medical center is within walking distance, as is the grocery store, Hok Choon. We were lucky that this unit has a dishwasher, which is outside with the washer and dryer by the maid's quarters. This is the usual location for those appliances here in KL as many people are able to have live in maids. The unit is not fully furnished however, meaning it lacks a cutlery set, dishes, and bed sheets. And the bed sheet topic is something new as well. Standard size beds here are smaller than US beds. I'm not sure if that's because the people here are smaller or because we're so accustomed to bigger and better things. I've included a link to the show unit in the building we're moving in to give you a better idea of where all of you could be vacationing! Hopefully it will entice you to come visit and not turn you away. I'd recommend turning off your volume and trying to ignore the large writing they placed smack dab in the middle of every picture.
Click here for the video.

For lunch today, I went with Stephanie, Paul, and another project manager from the office to a little restaurant where they serve American food and Maylay food. Since we've only eaten Chinese since our arrival with the exception of Chilis and CPK, I decided to give my taste buds the 'ole switcheroo and have a traditional Malay meal. Stephanie chose it for me since I couldn't read the menu, and her decision turned out to be a good one. She asked them to 86 the seafood so the server brought me a mountain of noodles and chicken covered with a thick, dark, gravy like liquid. It happened to be quite good with no spicy heat attached. Paul on the other hand, ordered Chicken curry which looked just as spicy as it smelled. Of course that was also served with a mountain of rice. No vegetables to be seen on that table.

Something else I've noticed that seems strange to me is that in all the eating out we've done this week, the servers usually do not refill your very very small glasses of boiled then chilled water, and they almost always expect you to order the minute you sit down. The usual, "Can we have a few more minutes?" question would not fly with these speedy servers. And, while they do not expect tips and rarely ever receive them, the customer service and attitude is still top notch. My food stories will probably be never ending for the next few weeks as Paul and I will probably have the chance to try every restaurant in Malaysia. The one box of Quaker Chewy bars in the room probably won't last us very long.

The remainder of my afternoon was spent scouring the internet for any signs of what might be an opportunity to volunteer my time. I've decided it's best if I get out of the hotel and interact with some people and do something useful with my time. Therefore, today I did just the opposite. The internet here is extremely slow, and happens to be that way in the entire country. I've also concluded that very few companies and organizations have websites unless they are large franchises. So, after 4 hours of searching I was lucky to find the YWCA and the UNHCR which asked for volunteers on the website. I've contacted both, so I'll wait for a little while to see what happens. The YWCA here provides a service to underprivileged young women where they teach the women a vocational skill like sewing, baking, hairdressing, etc. so they can be productive in society without having a formal education. The UNHCR stands for the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees. In Malaysia there are about 12,000 refuges who come to KL to flee persecution in their home country due to religion or race. They are looking for volunteers to teach English or creative skills like photography, art, and craft skills. I guess we wait and see if they need me.

While I was reading up on the UNHCR, they mentioned that many of the male refugees live in small apartments with 20-30 other men very close to the construction site in the city where many of them work. So this got me curious and wondering about the lives of the construction workers right outside my window. There is a whole site set up with a tall fence, large crane, re bar, and the whole nine-yards. After taking a further look and a much nosier and longer watch, I realized that our conveniences in the US are not always as prevalent here. The construction zone is completely fenced in by corrugated metal, tall enough that the only person who could possibly see anything going on inside the construction fence is the nosey girl from the adjacent building peering through the window from 11 stories above. So, I'm pretty sure I violated some people's privacy with the help of my trusty Canon zoom lens. What I saw was a little disturbing and pulled at my heart strings a bit for these men who spend 15+ hours/day working in these conditions and then going home to,... well maybe not even going home. They have built a very simple version of a set of three porta-potties out of ply wood and slapped a piece of corrugated metal, just like the fence, on top for a roof. While I watched the doors swung open while not in use to show only a 5 gallon plastic bucket in each one, presumably their makeshift toilet. The workers would go in and shut the door, and come out like it was normal. Next to these bathrooms is a large well-like structure again with a piece of the fence for the roof. I'm not sure that the water in the well or trough is even fresh or running. But as I watched there was a man using a bowl to dump water all over his body while standing in nothing but his underwear. He grabbed a bar of soap and washed his hair and body and then wrapped himself in a towel and washed his clothes with the same water and bar of soap. A few other men did the same after him. I'm wondering if these men have a place to sleep tonight.

I'm also wondering if maybe these conditions are common in the US and I'm just naively unaware. If so, I guess I'm giving you a few laughs and learning at the same time.

I feel now is a good time to mention a few things I've forgotten to share. While most people here speak Malay and/or Chinese, we have not run into a single person who doesn't speak English. Some speak it better than others, but for me it's almost always a battle to understand any English they are speaking as I have to sift through the sentences to find the words I know and use context clues to piece together the phrase. As you can probably imagine, any communication that goes on with me and anyone else, taxi drivers, servers, concierge, Stephanie, and Paul's English speaking coworkers from the UK included, happens very very slowly with lots of "huhs, what was thats, and say it agains" from my side. Paul, on the other hand, is able to understand and communicate even with the people of the thickest accents just as well as my mom can talk life stories with her friend who only speaks Spanish, Lupe. It's a mystery to me how that works. I'm just hoping one day before we move back I will catch on.

The language is supposed to be fairly easy to learn. I recognize lots of words on signs and the entire language is spelled just like it sounds. A few words I've caught onto are Lif, meaning lift or elevator, Teksi, meaning Taxi, and Tren or Train. Other words like Keluar I've still got to figure out. That either means Exit or Stairs. Not sure which one since that sign is always by a door and stairs with a picture of a person walking.

As for all this food... I really have no idea what I'm eating. I've only ever ordered chicken or beef, but who's to say it's not something else like a foreign animal I'm not even aware of its existence. For all I know they could be throwing in the big fat tree worms. But, so far my stomach has handled everything like a steel cage so I'm not too worried. If Anthony Bourdain can eat guinea pig and iguana, I think I can handle a small amount of the unknown as long as it tastes good.

I've mentioned the traffic before, but never experience rush hour in the rain until yesterday. Never have I heard so many pointless horns in one night as the traffic literally filled the intersection to the point where no one could move in any direction. Not sure what it is about the rain, but here it makes traffic so congested that rush hour lasts a good 4 or 5 hours as we witnessed last night from the window.

We ended the night tonight with a trip to Cold Storage, the "supermarket" here. Compared to HEB and any other grocery store in Katy, you could barely call Cold Storage a supermarket. I would compare it more to the Midway grocery store in old town Katy. The isles are just small enough for the miniature carts to go through, but they do have a lot of the same brand foods as Katy, just with a smaller selection. I was very excited to find Kashi brand cereal, but not so excited to find that it costs 34 ringit per small box, which is about $10. So, I'll be doing without my Kashi and probably a lot of other things once I actually start buying groceries. Nevertheless, a trip to the store was fun, and I'm saying goodnight from my blogging chair. I'm devising a plan in my head to very quietly and inconspicuously transport this chair down the elevator to my new apartment. I don't think the hotel will miss it as much as me.