KP in KL

I've got a few discoveries (and no pictures) to wrap up the week to let you in on a pretty good story following this news in case you've not heard: we are still in the hotel. I think I've jinxed us getting so excited about the move and telling everyone it was going to happen Friday. The latest news is it could possibly be Monday, but that we shouldn't get our hopes up. Who knows, maybe this hotel with a half of a mini fridge will really be our permanent living quarters for the next two years. It could be much worse. I could be sitting on the sidewalk next to our hotel collecting ringits while I wait to fall asleep like the woman we saw tonight. I'm thankful that we have things so good.

The front page of the paper says all grocery stores in Malaysia will stop selling flour, sugar, and oil due to a recent licence requirement grocers are protesting. This comes at a terrible time for me, especially since my urge to bake in my "Easy Bake Oven" as many refer to it, is growing every day. The Julia Child in me is waiting to be set free! Hopefully the government can meet the grocers somewhere in the middle so I can have my private bake off. And, if you're wondering just how big our kitchen oven-to-be really is, let me make it clear. It's as if they took a toaster oven, yes the same ones you sit on your counter and plug into the wall, and built it into the kitchen cabinets adjacent to the refrigerator. You can imagine the difficulty I will have in baking 4 dozen cookies at a time for Paul's office,... or for just me.

The staff around the hotel is beginning to address me as Ms. Katherine, which sounds like "Miss Cat-er-EEN" instead of Mrs. Paul Stern. And, I saw one of the hotel staff members on the subway today in his t-shirt and sandals, and another staff member at the Ampang Mall across the street. Both addressed me by saying "Hello Miss Cat-er-EEN!" The city is becoming smaller and smaller.

Something different here is that everyone from here points with their thumb. No matter what they are pointing at, be it a menu, credit card, which direction to go, etc. They make a fist and then use their thumb to point. Paul and I have not yet picked up that habit.

Paul had chicken rice for lunch again today with guys from the office, who eat chicken rice as often as Paul and don't understand why I don't want to eat it for every meal. It blows their mind. So, while he did that I treated myself to a makeshift chicken salad sandwich with a side of fruit, and it was so so good to get a break from chicken rice! I say it was a makeshift chicken salad sandwich because the Irish Sandwich place I went to just put mayo on bread, with chicken, lettuce, and tomato. It was still pretty tasty though. I'm thankful they didn't put ketchup on the chicken sandwich as it's common to do. I got one of those accidentally already. It tasted like a hot-dog sandwich.

Another thing I've noticed that is a little sad is shoes here are just not the same. They have all the same high-end big name shoes, but for the less expensive everyday shoes there's something about them that just doesn't appeal to me as much. The two main brands they have that I recognize are Guess and Nine West. I like Nine West, but here the prices are about 30% higher, so the pickings are slim. Next time I go home I think I will have to make a trip to Dillards or DSW or somewhere to finally find some cute shoes. You can tell I have it really rough over here if my biggest problem is finding cute shoes!

We've also learned that while Paul thought he got a steal of a deal in China Town on the movies we bought last time, our movie selling friend Ugu Ugu, really got the best of us. According to experienced bargainers, we paid double the price of what we could have gotten them for. We'll know for next time!

And now for the story to get me through to the next big experience:

I met Paul's boss this afternoon. I've heard good things about him, and of course in my little mind since he works for Subsea7 he's bound to be from the UK, and he has no choice but to look exactly like the "guy #2" from the movie Notting Hill with red hair, fair skin, navy tie, a shirt tucked in too tight, and not exactly a million dollar smile. But, once again I was proven wrong and my ideas of UK men were made somewhat clearer when "The Boss" as I will call him, introduced himself looking like Bruce Springsteen's twin brother with long hair and a simple dagger tattoo on his right forearm. An interesting encounter since it wasn't even the slightest representation of who I expected to be "The Boss" which led to a rendezvous at his house this evening with "The Boss" and the boss's wife, Rosie.

The Boss asked us to arrive around 9-ish (that's almost my bed-time and he's almost twice our age) tonight at his condo, which happens to be just down the street from our possibly-if-ever-to-be apartment on Jalan Ampang. I learned the correct pronunciation of that street name today, and received a lesson on how to pronounce the letter "A" which I will get to in a bit. So, The Boss lives at 212 Ampang and our place is at 183 Ampang. 212 is just shy of Hock Choon grocery store which Paul and I walked to the other day. We opted for the cab this time, and of course the driver took some wrong turns getting there. It seems the hand-drawn map of Paul's was a little difficult for the man to read. When we did reach our destination, we walked from condo A12 to A1, without reaching A-2, and then went to the other side to find B1 to B 300 it seemed. We were suddenly reminded of the college days first trying to find the correct apartment complex of a friend's, jumbled amongst 3 other identical complexes, each with apartment numbers in the 4000's, so you have to find the correct complex, then building, then floor, then unit, and it always just ended in despair. Upon this reminder we turned around on the fact that since we've graduated, we must be smarter! So we turned around and retraced our steps knowing that we were indeed so smart we already passed up unit A-2. Turns out we were correct.

We knocked on the door and were greeted by The Boss, barefoot in his white linen pants with a black t-shirt, hair free to flow in the wind and a kind smile on his face. It's customary in Asian countries to take off your shoes at the door, and seeing there were five other pairs of shoes at the door we figured we should follow suite. To be sure, I asked if I should remove my shoes and he said it "might be best" and Paul removed his boots. The Boss made the comment that "It's hard to separate a Texan and his boots!" I've got another boot story coming up too.

In the home we met Rosie, the tall blonde Austrian cardiologist who sounds like she came straight from The Sound of Music with her wonderful accent, and noticed the never-ending collage of paintings and photographic images that adorned their stark white walls from the first to forth floors. Several candles were lit making it the only light in the room aside from the kitchen flourescents backlighting the sitting area. Paul and I sat on the sofa which was really an antique Chinese bed if I remember correctly from my Period Furnishings class in college, and they both sat across from us on a giant ottoman with a bold, teal, damask-like design. The coffee table between the four of us had a basket of mini scones, and the eclectic room was completed with a red Persian rug in front of the television.

In my life, between the people, furnishings, and art, I've never seen such unprepared, totally accidental eclecticism that was so true to who this couple was. The randomness and almost peaceful chaos made the night interesting an enjoyable. We learned they are almost the epitome of the term "world travelers" and have been collecting art here and there as they journey from country to country. The Boss is into photography, so he and his old Cannon D50 were responsible for several of the black and white photos adorning the walls. While we sat in the dimly lit room, he insisted we listen to songs by Michelle Shocked, since she is or was a fellow Texan. We talked about all sorts of things. I now have the name and number of a cardiologist and now business woman at the best private hospital here in KL, which is comforting in case I find myself with moped tire tracks across my midsection, or waist high in a sewer drain after the grate gives way as Rosie and many others have done. They have travelled extensively in this area, so we got more tips on where to go and where not to. They aren't the first people that have said Bali isn't all it's cracked up to be, and gave us the names of a few more remote beaches. Hopefully we can catch a few flights on Air Asia in the next two years for a little bit of nothing. Rosie mentioned taking me to the places around town where the locals shop so I can bypass places like IKEA. That's a possibility for next weekend's agenda. We all got to know each other better over several hours of conversation, and I have a feeling The Boss got to know more about Paul than the reverse. I think,... and hope it was a good thing. After our double cheek kisses goodbye, I asked Paul if that was more like a welcome to KL obligatory kind of get-together, or a just for fun likely to happen again get together, but neither of us know which it is. I guess for now we'll take it for face value and say it was a good night with nice people and nothing more for now. I might just send The Boss and Rosie some of my Julia Child 4 dozen cookies after my oven finishes baking for 4,237 hours in Ampang 183.

So Paul's boots seem to be creating quite the stir here in KL. If his coworkers comments weren't enough, there's more. We were walking by girls at the mall giving out perfume samples. When Paul refused, they started whispering in Malay and at the end of the sentence I caught the word "cowboy". Who knows what they said, but they obviously thought he dressed different. I think it's funny because he's as far from a cowboy as they come except for the boot wearing thing he's got going on. In addition, all the walking he's done in his boots since we've been here has worn off the rubber sole on the heel, so he took them to the cobbler as they call it in the KLCC mall.

The Chinese man was very excited to do this repair as he talked to us between the lonely 6 inch long hairs growing from the mole on his face. Apparently cowboy boots in general are extremely expensive over here, and Tony Llama are about $2500 US for regular, no frills boots. This cobbler I guess thought he was working on a very fine pair of boots because he questioned us on the price Paul purchased the boots for and couldn't believe he fixed a pair of "cowboy boots".

I think what was the most hilarious thing I've seen in a long time is we originally went in just for a quote on the boot repair. The man was so enthusiastic about repairing the boots that he said he'd do it "right now", so Paul said okay and handed over the boots. Only afterwards did the cobbler say he'd be done in an hour and was so kind to lend Paul a pair of his black leather sandals to wear to dinner while his boots were being repaired. First, if you know Paul who can't drink out of anyone's glass, or wear anyone else's anything, you know he was horrified to think of wearing these sandals which you could clearly tell had about 200 other people's foot imprints in them. But, he'd handed over his boots so he had no choice. We proceeded to walk through the mall to Chili's with Paul wearing these very Indian looking black leather sandals with the orange toes from his socks screaming from the ends of the shoes, and with every step he took, the sandals let out a loud wooosh sound from the air being released from a hole in the soles. With every woosh, Paul got an breezy reminder that he was sharing shoes with many people before him. It probably could have been on America's Funniest Videos, or in this case, KL's funniest videos.

As for my pronunciation lesson today, I got it from a taxi driver of all people. After leaving the monthly ladies fellowship at St. Andrews this morning, where I happened to have my name drawn to win one of the purple orchid center pieces (I never win anything!), I walked across the street to catch a Taxi back to the hotel, as we usually do on Sundays after church. Of course, I had to haggle with one driver unsuccessfully as he was trying to drive me for double the price. One of these days I might just start wearing a head cover so they don't take me for a rookie! I was able to flag down another teksi very nonchalantly, almost like a local much to my surprise, and he was running a metered taxi thank goodness. When I asked him to take me to Jalan Ampang, and I said it just like it reads with a Texas accent, heavy on the A's, and he looked at me like I was nuts. After thinking about it for a few seconds, he told me to get in, that he was familiar with the street. I was thinking that he better be familiar with it since it's one of the three main streets in KL! Turns out he didn't understand my accent and was very willing to "help" me out with that. I got a ten minute lesson on how to really say Jalan Ampang. Basically replace any A's with soft O's and you're good to go. So Jalan Ampang becomes Jolon Ompong, but you say it twice as fast. So we practiced, while he corrected as I recited while questioning in my mind why in the world I was getting a speech lesson in a taxi. Was this My Fair Lady? I had no idea when I got in that taxi I would be riding with the Henry Higgens of KL. I was beginning to wonder if I needed to say Jalan Ampang with ten marbles in my mouth. He was so kind to very bluntly say I needed to practice saying that for a week at least, and then after that I would sound like a full fledged KL native, and as a bonus, he wouldn't charge me for the lesson! What a trip! After this little experience, there was unfortunately enough time in the cab for him to be nosey and ask how long I've been married, if I have children, why not since I've been married so long, how much the company pays for of our living, where I'm from, how long I've been here, how long I will be here, and so on. We were told KL people are nosey and don't realize they are getting into people's personal business, but who knew to this extent!

On the agenda this weekend is pretty much the same thing we do every weekend Pinky: Try to take over the world! And, in addition The Boss is taking Paul tomorrow to a new place to get the best deal on watches and movies so he doesn't get suckered again. And I will call it a night as I have 50 more times to recite the words Jalan Ampang until tomorrow.