KP in KL

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.