I heart KL

KL BABY! 28 July 2009

 

I will try and keep it shorter from now on, maybe

 I got of the plane and it hit me.  I was in Malaysia, at the LCCT, KLIA-LCCT to be precise (if you are not up on the Southeast Asia jargon: KL=Kuala Lumpur, LCCT=Low Cost Transfer Terminal).  Though, it was not this self-conscious realisation that enveloped my body as soon as I set foot on the stairs; actually it was the humidity.  Flying roughly and hour and a half south of Chiang Mai had somehow caused me to end up in a land of suffocating humidity.  Not going to lie, at this point - after living through Bangkok and living in Chiang Mai - I am somewhat of a humidity masochist, a glutton for meteorological punishment.  So, from my first step on Malaysian soil I had a smile on my face – to be fair it was there since I left home.

 The LCCT is a pretty big terminal, I would say about as big as General Mitchell in Milwaukee, and inside it is busy.  People darting every which way, not to mention there are people in Haz-Mat suits checking for H1N1 (the swine flu).  Aside: uh, hey, it’s the flu, normal influenza, which sadly hundreds of thousands of people die from every year; furthermore, the World Health Organisation has stated that it isn’t that big of a deal.  And, as for the masks, they don’t solve anything – viruses (or if you are from Thailand, “Wiruses”) are very small – surgical masks a) can’t protect you b) don’t cover all of your orifices.  Enough about that.  In the airport you are greeted by three languages: Malay, English and Arabic – which could have been Jawi script a way of using Arabic to write Malay phonetically.  Also, the LCCT may be one of the only airport which it is necessary and cheaper, to reserve your taxi inside.  If, by chance, you plan on hitting up KL, remember this it will save you time and money, as independent Teksis are hard to come by at the airport and on average 20 ringgit more expensive.

 While in the taxi from the airport to KL (not trying to be cool by using the jargon, nobody calls it Kuala Lumpur, except tourists and flight attendants – air hostesses / hosts, sorry) I noticed that my camera wouldn’t turn on.  At the time I had some choice obscenities go through my head, followed by the though that this could be an adventure.  An adventure it was and a comfortable one.  The ride from the airport consisted of rolling hills and little housing developments, and the best part was as you roll into the city the skyline is perfectly visible.

 The Concorde hotel (I could see the Petronas Towers from my room :) ) receptionist told me to take the monorail from Birkit Nanas to Birkit Bintang, since I don’t speak Malay this meant nothing to me.  The monorail is pretty amazing as I only had to walk out of my hotel about 100m and there I was at the first place.  It runs right through the heart of KL.  There is also a subway and bus system that I didn’t have the pleasure of trying, but if it is anything as user friendly as the monorail, I mean to try it.  Those of you who understand or are aware of my love of mass transit will get this, for those who don’t know: I love mass transit, especially if it efficient and cheap.  KL’s is, and even at peak time (rush hour) it is nothing like Tokyo or Shanghai, could be because there are only about 5 million people in KL.

 Eventually, 10 minutes later, I made it to the Sony kiosk at a mall where I was informed that my battery was not just dead (batteries are very dramatic, they are either alive, or dead) it was broken. I bought a new battery.  Next adventure, sim card, I knew from Thailand that finding what you want isn’t always easy due to the lack of good English in Southeast Asia.  I stood immediately corrected.  English in KL, fantastic.  I found it in 5 minutes and I was back on the monorail.

 After reaching my stop I noticed something looming of in the distance.  It was, yes, the reason I was there, the Petronas Towers.  Awesome.  I didn’t really look or even both to ask for directions, although up until that point everyone was friendly and knowledgeable, I just looked at the towers and went on auto-pilot snapping pictures along the way.  As I arrived at an island amidst the traffic, I was joined by two men a Malaysian and an Indian.  Their relationship was curious, they didn’t speak with words, only Navy SEAL-esque hand signals.  It was obvious the Malaysian man spoke English as he asked me to take their picture and then returned the favour.  I couldn’t figure it out, he wasn’t deaf.  It turns out that they had met that day, they found they had mutual goals of getting to the towers and the Indian didn’t speak any English. 

 Friendships between people of many nationalities are quite common.  Though what I find amazing is that English, or “inserr-shortened-demonym-here-lish,”  is the language of choice.  Which is funny considering that I have dedicated a good portion of my academic experience to training myself in foreign languages, so that just this phenomenon would not occur with me because I ostensibly I could carry on in the other person’s tongue.  This raises two points of significance. 

 One, the more simple of the two, is that English is, obviously, and indeed,  “ the universal language” – in quotes as I am alluding to the future a moment, these are the words of my Hokkien Chinese (minority) tour guide while in Brunei. 

 Second, it illustrates the overwhelming penetration of the west in Asia.  That is not to say that it is always a bad thing, however to me it is somewhat disappointing.  Being that, all of these linguistic groups come together not sharing their native languages but a foreign language (just how foreign is a real question when we consider aspects of globalisation, such as pop culture, as well as factoring in a possible past colonisation).  It is impressive to see people struggle with what I have deemed the Cantonese of western languages.  On one instance I overheard a Chinese friend of mine speaking with her Thai friends boyfriend, who is Korean, on the phone in English, she doesn’t even speak to me in English.  I believe it is precisely these instances that should motivate Americans even more to learn foreign languages.  In general they seem reluctant to try.  But, it is the latter example of my Chinese friend that gives me hope.  People love it that much more when you speak their language.  See what I said about rambling, maybe someday I will flesh out what I mean by all of this.

 Let us return to the majesty of the towers.  At dusk, the lights begin to shine atop the towers, like two diamond-cached sceptres the rise into the sky.  I stationed myself in the park ever so close to them.  There I ran into a group of girls and took a picture of the three of them.  One of whom, was named, Singhua, Malay-Chinese, and believe-it-or-not a recent grad of the University of Michigan.  I asked why they were here, being that three of four people I had now run into around the Petronas’ were Malaysian.  They replied that it was a fun place to take pictures and a place of national pride.  Understandable.  But, being from Chicago, another city with a tall building, I interjected, “I’m from a city with a tall building, no one goes near it, and there are not too many people working there.”  After the small talk and introductions, I asked them what all I should see for my 28 layover in KL.  They giggles, talked amongst themselves, looked back and said they didn’t know.  What kind of locals were they? Apparently, when one lives in KL, they feel as if t is like any other city, boring, and that there is nothing to do.

 As there was no help there I went to dinner at the Hard Rock Café, must admit it is my second trip to one of these establishments.  On the walk back I realised I hadn’t eaten all day amidst the excitement of a new city, my appetite disappeared.  I must say I gorged on possibly the best Western cuisine I have had since late May when I left the states, moreover two-for-one bevvys from 5-9. Tummy ache, and sleep followed.

 My goal for the following day was to get to the top of the towers, were apparently you can see the curvature of the Earth, amazing.  Unfortunately my trip was cut short because tickets sell out by 0900, I arrived at 1000.  So decided to go to Chinatown and Central Market (a shopping area that was been around for nearly 200 years).  Though, no sooner did I get in a cab did I realise that I was informed, it was a special “standing” taxi.  30 ringgits for hailing it! The driver was nice enough to drop me off at the closest taxi stand where the ride would be a total of 5.50 ringgit.  Wow.  Customer service in Malaysia is at a premium, I will explain further soon.

 Central Market is a bustling area full of women in muslim garb and men in T-shirts and jeans.  There are little shops and kiosks everywhere selling sweets, trinkets and souvenirs.  Unlike most markets, this one is inside and air-conditioned, I found exactly what I needed as I was greeted by the woman at the information desk.

 In Chinatown, I bargained with a man and his wife, in Chinese.  I was paid the highest compliment I have ever received, prior to being called an “egg,” (white on the outside, yellow on the inside), I was confused for a Chinese person (take that Professor Chen!). Flattery, because he knew he'd just screwed me on the sale of a t-shirt, maybe, but I'll take it.  He said it was  more or less because of my speech patterns and pronunciation, and because I had my sunglasses covering my eyes, when I removed them he said that was the first time he had a white person carry-on with him in Chinese.

On my return to the hotel / airport, I made friends with a taxi driver, now when I got to KL he is my driver, Kopal.  When I met him he attempted to charge me 10 ringgits for a 6 ringgit ride, I called for the meter and he agreed. He said, in Malaysia, as the sign in the cab reads, “the customer is always right.”  He said at maximum he would only make about 5 ringgit of a person who didn’t say to use the meter, much more fair then the Tuk-Tuk or Songtaew drivers who will stop at nothing to screw the foreigners.  I took his word for the price to the airport and told him to run the meter as well.  He was spot on.  Simply said I now have a driver.  All I need now is a personal assistant and a message therapist.

 KL, because of the people and because of the energy of the city has taken a piece of my heart.  It has eclipsed Shanghai as my favourite city, which is saying a lot.  It has inspired me to learn Malay – I would slay this language, like fish in a stream, it even uses the Latin alphabet and there are no tones, game over.  I also wish to return, the people are friendly, the public transportation is great – although a bit discombobulated, the don’t really coincide with one and other too well and the LCCT is cut off from that system almost completely (one must take a shuttle bus to KLIA and then get on a subway, then get on the monorail), the food is fantastic, there is nightlife, and the price is right, reasonable.  For the short stay that I had it left an impression.

 But, from KL it was onward to Bandar Seri Begawan, Brunei! (The exclamation point I found wasn’t really needed after all, you’ll see.)