Malaysia day 2
I am beginning to write this as I sit in the cavernous LTTC terminal in KL. It is a special terminal that deals only with budget airlines, like Air Asia, on which I am about to fly. Everything about the terminal reflects its budget based business model, but it seems to work, so I have checked in, eaten and cleared security in under 45 minutes. However, back to the past.
I woke on Sunday about 7 having slept well. It didn't look like Kuhen had stirred all night, and wasn't in any hurry to do so now. Soma called a little later, proposing that we all meet for breakfast, before going our separate ways for the day. We chose an Indian place to eat, but it was owned by Muslims, so there were few vegetarian options, which reduced our three Vegas to packets of chinos to hold them until something more substantial could be found. I had a very tasty egg roti, without condiments, and was well set up for the day when I added a coffee made with evaporated milk. Kuhen and Syam were off to Grandma's, Soma and Viji had plenty of errands to run, and the newlyweds and I were headed for different destinations in town. We would all meet again at the sari shop in Little India at about 3.
My objective for the day was to do a couple of walking tours from the Lonely Planet book that Anne kindly bought me. This required leaving from Tamen Bahagia station near where we were staying and getting off at Masjid Jamek, named after the nearby mosque. Armed with both LP and the Off Exploring app on the iPhone, I was able to orientate myself for the Chinatown walk after stumbling across a film shoot just outside the station. Everyone seemed to be there - massive spots, sound people, wardrobe, makeup etc. at this point my description gets a bit sketchy, because, as I may as well reveal up front, just before the end of the second section of the day, in Little India, the aforementioned book fell out of my bag when I wasn't looking. I retraced my steps with no luck. I only hope whoever has it can read English! While it didn't cramp my tour that day, it has been a bit of a damper since. I thought I could download the book on my Kindle, but it seems not to be available. The absence of the book means that my tour description will be lacking in detail, I am afraid.
Other early part of the Chinatown tour focused on some of the remnant colonial buildings, the old "shop houses" with businesses downstairs and residences above, and a couple of rather striking temples. A couple of observations- in the absence of names and addresses. While he section of town is called Chinatown, the first thing to strike you is the Masjid Jemak mosque across the river. This is typical of the interwoven way in which the different cultures of KL share their space. A second non-scheduled sight was the queue of guest labourers standing at a Western Union type of place, sending money home, I guess. There were scores of young men, smoking, chatting, and waiting their turn.
Among the more striking sights on the journey were the Sze Ya Taoist temple. I stood inside and just watched the worshipped go about their business of making votive offerings, buying joss sticks, lighting and placing them. I was also impressed by some of the arts and crafts in the Central Markets, by the elegance of the old Petronas building (influenced by Arabic styles) and by the fact that so many fine buildings have been preserved. Jalan Petaling Markets are like Paddy's on steroids, with every form of knock off brand known to humanity, bootleg DVDs, and plenty of touts. Much more polite than Ho Chi Minh though!
By lunch time I was ready for a break, and found an air conditioned peace to gather thoughts and make plans for stage 2, Little India. The good thing is that the two walks share a common origin. I wanted to start in the Mosque I had spotted earlier on, but for some reason, could not find my way in. It looks like the place was being restored. I did, however, get a good long look at the Moghul inspired Magistrates' court building next door, at least from the outside. There were fewer specific buildings in the Little India walk, more a general sense of the area. Along the way, a wrong turn helped me find the Madras store, where the saris were to be bought later on. A little after that,when I went to get my LP from the outside pocket of my pack, I realised it was gone. But you know that story....
I wandered a little further, sans guide, and it the skies began to look increasingly threatening. Ma mamma didn't breed no fools, so I took cover in a cafe just opposite the sari shop, and settled don on a verandah, just far enough back to avoid the rain when it came. Not long later Van and Shadhinee appeared, ad we had a drink or two. The rain did start, and like magic, so did the umbrella sellers.
Delayed by traffic, the ever present reality of downtown KL, Soma and his family and his Aunt who has a contact I the shop arrived. Then began the most fascinating few hours as the women chose series for the whole bridal party on one floor, and the guys chose their outfits. Van was, of course, the centre of attention, and his choice became the pivotal one for his two brothers in law. The major item of clothing for each was an ornate knee length jacket. This was accompanied by light trousers, and, in Van's case, eventually, a pair f curly toed shoes. Soma had selected a simple kurta - a long, loose shirt, but was persuaded by his aunt to go for the jacket style instead. Yours truly was persuaded to get a kurta- but in a subdued white with gold trim. Wouldn't want to outshine the bridal group! The whole experience was absolutely fascinating. The range of colours and designs was enough to bring on sensory overload.
Once the basic purchases were selected, there was much discussion with sales staff and alterations to be organised . At this point the boys headed off to have a snack - which meant sallying forth into the rain. In this instance, I rolled up my pants and wore some cheap thongs I had purchased in the morning.
Back to the Madras store to rejoin the troops. It was now getting late and Soma had organised a dinner at a KL establishment called the Coliseum, a place hardly changed since the colonial era. Because the parking spot he had earlier secured was at such a premium, we set off with his Aunt in a cab and delivered her to her high rise home, had a short visit, then cabbed it back to join the Aussies and three of Soma's old Brunei friends, two with their wives. The company was good, the food was good and the head waiter wore a name tag that said Captain Morgan. No one had to walk the plank :-)