Whirlwind Run Out

Here it is, the last night before we head back to the United States after 13 months away and I have to say, we are so excited about this. Homeward bound! Woot woot woot!!!  But, as happy as we are to be US bound, we are also sad to be saying goodbye to beautiful Vietnam and our adventures in Asia.

You probably noticed that we dropped off the virtual abyss the last few days while we were in Chiang Mai and Hanoi. This, unfortunately, is due to food poisoning and tummy bugs in northern Thailand, and simply a lack of time here in Hanoi. So, I’ll do my best to catch you up in the next few minutes.

Our voyage out of Koh Tao was epic and nothing but pure luck. Unlike on our voyage there, we took enough Dramamine to knock out a horse before getting on the boat. The ride to the mainland was nothing but smoothing sailing (aka snoring) and we got on the bus to Bangkok without mishap until a couple of hours outside the city when the traffic all but stopped. I was more alert by then and started to panic as I watched the minutes tic by. We were scheduled to catch a train at 10 pm, with the bus supposedly arriving in Bangkok by 8:30 pm. Well, 8:30 came and went and we’d barely made a dent in the last 30 miles of the trip. We inched closer to 9 and still weren’t in the city. By that point I was pretty sure we were in trouble. Our initial experience in Bangkok showed us just how huge and how sluggish the city could be. I didn’t see how we would make it to the station in time. Breathe in. Breathe out. In. Out. Andy said if we could make it off the bus by 9:30 we’d be ok, but I wasn’t sure we’d even be in the city by then. Nine-fifteen arrived and suddenly I recognized a building. We were in the city! With luck on our side, we made it off the bus at 9:30 on the dot. Again, luck was with us, as our luggage was already being pulled from under the bus as we disembarked. We hailed one of the waiting taxis and he drove like a mad man, getting us to the station just in time. Whew!

The fifteen hour train ride from Bangkok to Chiang Mai was mostly passed in sleep. We were booked in a sleeper car and though the bunks were ridiculously narrow, it was rather comfortable falling asleep to the rocking on the train. Chiang Mai was hot that first afternoon and sunny. After checking into our hostel run by a ran eccentric man (we suspect he was one of Thailand’s famous Lady Boys), we walked around Old Town, discovering an assortment of Thia massage parlors, food places and travel agents. Much of our time in Chiang Mai ended up being spent this way except on our first full day there, when we voyaged up into the mountains to an elephant sanctuary.

Thailand is well known for its elephants and it is said that the country was built by them, as they were used as transportation in war and as workers in peace. Despite the country’s love of the beautiful creatures, they are often mistreated. As we learned during our day at the sanctuary, wild elephants are protected as endangered animals, but elephants used in any manner by people are counted as livestock and thus not protected. This is incredibly sad because as the country has modernized, the tradition ways of raising and treating elephants have become a bit lost. Admittedly, however, the traditional ways of taming an elephant were often brutal, so it seems that they have rarely been treated well. This is why The Elephant Nature Park was created. It was started by one woman trying to save one elephant and has since expanded into a huge refuge run by several people and many volunteers. Today there are almost 40 elephants and 400 dogs at the sanctuary.

During our visit we got to feed the elephants, walk around the sanctuary with them and play in the river to wash them. It was simply incredible. I LOVE elephants and despite feeling sick the entire time we were there, I was so happy we had survived the crazy drive up there (our driver literary drove like a MANIAC!). When we weren’t with the elephants, we were learning about elephants in Thailand as well as the stories of how the elephants came to the sanctuary. Some were orphaned after their mothers were killed in one way or another; others were too old to work or had been too injured to be of use to their previous owners; two had stepped on land-mines; some were rescued from abusive owners; so many stories, each one weighing heavily on my heart. Nonetheless, it was an amazing experience and I would love to go back and volunteer there for a while.

The last stop on our whirlwind journey was Hanoi, Vietnam. We ended up here simply on a whim, picked because I had seen a beautiful picture of the city during our planning stage and viola, here we are. Before we arrived, we had no idea what to expect. There were a few things we’d noted to see, but that was it. As it turns out, I am thrilled that we got to come here! Hanoi and Vietnam are fantastic and this has been one of my favorite stops on the trip.

Our first afternoon here we went to the lake near our hostel where we happened to meet a group of students from the university. The students were part of an English club and they were looking for some foreigners to go on a sort of scavenger hunt with them, so off we went along with a man from Switzerland. Almost the rest of the afternoon was spent wandering the old quarter of the city, following clues all around. We went by the house where Ho Chi Minh wrote the declaration of independence for Vietnam, past the opera house, to ice cream shop favored by the local students, and to a park where we chatted and played a game. It was nearing dark by the time we headed back to our hotel, parting ways with our new friends. I have to say, meeting the students was definitely a highlight of the whole trip for me. They were so nice!!

The next day we wandered the city, seeing an old fortress, Ho Chi Minh’s mausoleum, pagodas and a beautiful red bridge. It was a nice slow day of wandering. By the end of the evening we were feeling pretty fantastic, having nearly mastered the art of crossing the street in Vietnam. As people warned us, scooters don’t really stop. Traffic just kind of weaves together at intersections in a never ending stream. If you were to stand on a corner waiting for a clear time to cross the road, you would be waiting until the early hours of morning. Clear moments on the roads seem to be rare. Instead, in order to cross, you just start walking. The key is to walk slowly and be prepared to pause, even if it is in the middle of the street. It is nerve-wracking but sort of entertaining too!

Today, the last of our adventures, we went on a tour to Hoa Lu, the old capital city of Vietnam, and to Tom Coc, a small town surrounded by beautiful rock hill/mountains. The tour took us to two temples, on a boat ride down a river and through the rock mountains, and on a short bike ride. It ended up being a super long day, but really, truly gorgeous. Vietnam is a beautiful country and if anything, my curiosity about it has only been piqued. I wish we had planned for more time here!

For now though, our thoughts are on tomorrow. It is nice to know that our next stop is home and family. Our bags are nearly packed now, a taxi booked for the ride to the airport and our excitement only growing by the hour. We can’t wait to see you all!!!

With than, we’ll see you tomorrow (hehehe, I have waited a long time to say that!)!!!

Love,

Kali and Andy

Smell good: Crazies in Koh Tao part three

“First, oil then garlic, for smell good.”

Our cooking mentor ladled oil into our pans and dropped in several spoonfuls of chopped garlic, watching us carefully as we stirred it around. As soon as the smell of garlic wafted from the pans, we dropped in the vegetables and noodles we prepared  moments before. First on our list of culinary delights for the evening were spring rolls, followed by spicy prawn soup, fried rice, fish with pepper sauce and finishing with banana coconut milk. Our teacher was a good-natured Thai man around fifty years old. The moment we walked into the class he welcomed us with a smile, making his eyes crinkle at the corners. We were immediately at ease.

Since planning our adventure around Asia, we have wanted to take a cooking class. The only problem was, where to take it? After living in Korea for a year, with its abundance of spicy red-sauce covered dishes, we were looking forward to some variety. And, it seems there is no better place to go for food variety than South East Asia. The culinary cross-roads between countries, their intertwined histories and traditions have created an amazing array of tastes and foods. From seafood to curries, extremely spicy to richly sweet, salty to sour, there are so many flavors to try. While we considered all of the countries on our trip, we settled on Thailand, quite simply because we love Thai food, have always wanted to learn how to cook it and there are classes everywhere.

Vegetables cooked and wrapped in rice papers then fried, we started into our first course. Crunch, crunch…Mmmm! The spring rolls were simply amazing. Crisp wrappings, perfectly cooked vegetables, nice clean flavor. Perfect. I am a big fan of spring rolls and have had them on several occasions during our trip. These blew all the others out of the water. Our mentor explained that most restaurants do not make them fresh, so they aren’t as good. We couldn’t help but agree. Freshly made is the key, we learned.

In mere moments our spring rolls seemed to disappear and then it was back to the cooking table to make the soup. Upon our return to the table, our eyes immediately landed on the two giant prawns sitting on a plate. Grey with red legs, they looked a bit less than delicious. We were talked through the preparation of the broth, cutting vegetables just so, adding just enough of this and that, then we set about cooking the soup. Once it hit a boil, we poured it into bowls and sat down to enjoy, only, we weren’t exactly sure how to do that given the six inch long prawn in the bowl. I took a few spoons of broth, loving the slightly spicy, salty taste. Our mentor stopped by to see what we thought.

“Um…how do you eat this?” I pointed to the prawn.

He laughed and set about de-legging and de-shelling the prawn. In mere moments it turned from a creature ready to escape into something I could figure out how to eat. Now, I’m not much of a seafood person, but it was delicious! Just the right hint of fishy-ness to complete the soup.

Spring rolls and soup finished, I was starting to feel full, but we were just getting started. While we’d been enjoying our soup, our teacher fried two pieces of fish, which he set aside for later. When we returned to cook, we made a very simple fried rice then a pepper sauce (to go on the fish). Fried rice is so easy to make and it looks so fancy when its pressed in a cup then flipped upside-down on a plate to make a perfect mound of rice. Accompanied by the fish, it was a very pleasing main course. Unfortunately, I was so full that I barely managed a few bites before I felt like exploding. Our mentor seemed to understand and kindly boxed up the left overs for us.

After digesting a bit, we went to the cooking table one last time for the dish Andy was most excited about: banana coconut milk. Thailand, being tropical, warm and wet, has so much fruit. Stands along the road sell fruit shakes of just about any kind. Ladies with trays of sliced fruit board trains and walk the sidewalks, selling these delicious, rejuvenating bites. All the fruit is one thing I will surely miss when we leave. Of all the fruit, bananas and coconuts were extremely popular on Koh Tao. So, it seemed only logical that desert put the two together.

Banana coconut milk is exactly what it sounds like. Bananas are chopped into pieces and added to coconut milk. A bit of sugar is added and then everything is boiled together until it begins to thicken. We ate it exactly like that, but our mentor suggested trying it with a scoop of ice cream or a dash of whiskey, or swapping the bananas for pumpkin or sweet potatoes. Our minds got to whirling with ideas for making it at home.

Two hours after started the class, we were completely stuffed and thoroughly pleased. Our mentor gave us a cook book, aprons and chefs hats as souvenirs and to encourage us to try everything at home. Walking back to our bungalow, we couldn’t have been happier. It was the perfect, most delicious end to our stay on Koh Tao.

 

Big Blue: Crazies in Koh Tao part 2

One by one the divers disappear beneath the waves. Flippers, masks, snorkels and air tanks are all I can pick out as they sink into the depths of the water.

We’re off the coast of Koh Tao along an undeveloped section of beach. Several years ago Koh Tao was a little known island off mainland Thailand. Tourists rarely came out to its beaches and only the really intense divers ventured its way. Today, however, it is a different story. Over the last few years Koh Tao has become a diving mecca. With beautiful warm water, an abundance of sea life and the relative cheapness of its diving schools, people flock to the island from around the world to both dive and learn how to dive. We didn’t know this all those months ago when we stumbled across a picture of the island in our Thailand guidebook, but the sheer beauty of the water was enough to capture our interest.

As I lay on the deck fighting off sea sickness along with one of Andy’s diving mates, I wonder how everyone else is feeling being meters below the water. They’ve spent the last two days preparing for this moment, first in a classroom and then in the pool. Now is when they get their first taste of what it is to be a diver. There can be no mistakes here. I try not to worry and assure myself by thinking about how skilled the instructor and school are.

Big Blue, the school Andy is diving with, is fantastic. The instructors are super friendly, the system is structured and organized, ensuring  students are prepared and above all, Big Blue is all about having a good time safely. Andy is safe. He knows what he is doing, I tell myself. Hanging around the school is enough to make me have doubts about not diving, but then, watching everyone gear up and jump into the water, I am sure that not diving was the right choice for me. All the gear and going so far into the water…no thanks. I’ll stick to the snorkeling, provided I ever stop feeling sick.

Time ticks by slowly for us aboard. Andy’s dive mate is curled in a ball on a bench and another diver, who freaked out as soon as he hit the water, lounges nearby. The boat rocks in the waves and overhead the sky looks like it could let loose yet another downpour. It’s monsoon season which means it has rained every day, but fortunately only for a few hours a day.

The rain has kept me inside more often than I expected, but in a way it has been restful. Aside from a yoga class and swimming, I’ve most hung out while Andy has been in class. Our bungalow is off the main road, down a dirt track, which is rather perfect. Like many island paradises, Koh Tao has a plethora of resorts along the beach, almost all of them full of divers, young and old. Partying, drinking and late nights are on schedule nearly every night at most resorts, which really didn’t sound like our sort of thing. Away from the beach it is quieter, more secluded and peaceful, much more our style. And the walk to the beach and town is a mere five minutes through coconut groves, so it is beautiful.

The boat begins to rock more, sprays of water splashing up the sides. I peer into the water, looking for sign on the divers. The clouds darken above and just as I think it is going to really storm, I spot the first diver poking out of the water. Heads emerge in groups and make their way to the boat. Weighed down by their air tanks. they struggle up the ladder and to the benches on deck where they de-gear. Everyone is grinning from ear to ear. Soaking wet and dripping, Andy is beaming- diving is just up his alley.

Dive one = success

Now for dive two.

The next dive site is much closer to the resorts, just off a tiny island within sight of the main beach on Koh Tao. This time after the divers vanish in the waves, I jump in after them, snorkel gear smooshing my face. The water is warm and so clear. Fish swim mere inches from the surface, but are invisible from above. Far down below me I can just make out several divers moving along the bottom. They look like sea creatures to me, their air tanks a shell and their flippers fins. As I paddle about, I understand the draw of scuba diving, the joy in seeing a part of the world that is usually so inaccessible.

It is beautiful in a eery, unreal way.

I climb out of the water long before the divers emerge. The skies have cleared some and the waves calmed. Andy’s dive mate is on her feet, still shaky, but no longer sick. When the divers pop up a little over half an hour after going down, their is an air of confidence about them. They are getting more and more comfortable with the water and the equipment. Andy can’t stop grinning as he slips away from the air tank and takes off his weight belt. Tomorrow they’ll dive several more times, but for now, it’s back to the beach

Dive two = success

♥

On his last day diving, Andy got to see two whales, which is a super rare treat. His instructor has been on the island for two years and had never seen a whale before then. Like his first two dives, his last dives were also successes and he had an amazing time. After four days, he is now a certified open water diver, which means he can dive up to 18 meters in open water as long as he as a buddy.

 

Lost Cookies: Crazies in Koh Tao part 1

Our adventure in Koh Tao began with a breakfast of champions: truck stop cookies and strong green tea. The cookies, bought at 2 am, halfway through the muggy, camped, eight-hour bus ride from Bangkok, weren’t bad. They were really rather tasty even. The tea was deplorable, but warm, and after laying curled up on a wooden bench for the two hours since being dumped on the pier at 5 am, warm was all that mattered.

Nibble of sweet cookie, sip of bitter tea. Glance at the ocean.

Despite checking in some hours before, we still seemed to be waiting- waiting for both the boat to arrive and the sun to rise. So, we sat on the damp bench watching people mill about wearily and with some impatience. When the sun finally emerged from below the horizon, it brought a short, but violent rainstorm, sending everyone scrambling for cover. The sky afterwards was dark grey, waiting to let loose another storm.

Cookies gone and tea sipped to the dregs, it was finally time to board the boat. We were called to que and with a hundred others slogged out the long, wet pier to the boat. The water around us was anything but the picturesque turquoise we had seen in our Google search. I should have known then that a rough ride was in store. As it was, I survived the first fifteen minutes before my tea and cookies were sloshing around as the boat tossed us all about. Twenty minutes in and I knew sleeping through it just wasn’t going to happen. Twenty five minutes into the ride a passing boat attendant handed me a plastic bag, a not a minute too soon. The remainder of our trip found me wedged in my seat, my forehead pressed hard against the seat in front of me in an attempt to keep it still. Rain pounded the windows periodically and the boat bounced over waves.

By the time we arrived in Koh Tao, the water has stilled some, though the sky was still overcast. We piled out of the boat, many of us thankful for still land, me included. In a daze I followed Andy, carrying nearly all our luggage, off the pier and into the throngs of people along the dock, some from hotels, holding signs with passengers’ names and others taxi drivers, waiting for people like us. We hailed the first driver we crossed and after loading us in his truck (all the taxis in Koh Tao are trucks so that they can accommodate scuba gear) he went to retrieve a few boxes to drop off at a shop en route to our hotel.

Settled and still, at least for a few minutes I breathed a sigh of relief. We were in Koh Tao.

Andy turned around in the front seat.
“Guess what.”

“Hum?”

“You actually lost your cookies!” he said with a smirk.

And so, like all good adventures should begin, we started off our five days on the island in good humor.

Works of Wonder

The moment we landed in Siem Reap yesterday Andy and I both flashed back to Africa. The wave of heat rising off the tarmac as we departed the plane, the intense jungle greenery, the dirt roads we’d seen as we flew in, all of it looked and felt like Tanzania. Even the air, a mix of wood fire, freshness and forest, smelled the same.  Coming from South Korea and Malaysia, both of which are overflowing with infrastructure, it was a bit of shock, especially the revisiting of the horrifying contrast between rich and poor. One thing I never adjusted to in Tanzania and which I will not adjust to here, is the way the fancy hotels cast their shadows on the tin roof one-room homes next door. Our hostel too, is part of this. That guilt at having everything while many of the people who live in Siem Reap have nothing pulls painfully at my heart. I want to help every single person who asks for it. I just don’t know how to do so.

Aside from the brief culture shock, which we have now mostly readjusted to, we have had some great experiences so far. Our wanderings around the town last night were utterly different than anywhere we have visited this year and we are loving it. Vendors call out their wares, competing with one another for customers; tourists meander along the sidewalks, stopping periodically to examine the beautiful things in the hundreds of street stalls; scooters zip here and there.  It’s a fantastic mix of movement and sound, so unlike the calm, quiet markets of Korea.

One thing we discovered pretty quickly during our walk last night is that while Cambodia has its own currency, the reil, nearly every shop will take and, in fact, posts all prices in USD. What makes this all the more interesting is that when we pay for something and change is due, it often comes in a mix of reil and USD. Needless to say, everyone’s math skills are pretty fantastic as prices are multiplied or divided by four thousand to make the right payment or change.

While our adventures yesterday kept us in town and on foot, our exploration today took us to the temples of Angkor, the biggest reason people come to Siem Reap. Angkor Wat, as many people call the area, is actually the name of the biggest and most famous temple in the area. Built in the 12th century, it was first a Hindu and then a Buddhist temple. Surrounding Angkor Wat are dozens of other temples, built as early as the 10th century, and this is where we went today as Angkor Wat is on schedule for tomorrow at sunrise.

This morning as we headed out of the hostel gates a tuk-tuk driver called out to us and rather than decline as we did a million times last night, we accepted and I am so glad we did. The distance out to Angkor and between the temples is quite far, especially in the heat, so walking it would be an exercise in exhaustion, because by the time you arrived at the temples, you would be too tired to explore them.  A tuk-tuk, on the other hand, is perfect. Tuk-tuks drive slower than cars, but much faster than bikes, which means that a nice breeze accompanies you while you take in the beautiful jungle surrounding the road. Cars zip by, unable to catch the temple ruins just visible in the trees or the monkeys climbing in the leaves overhead and bikers have to pay too much attention to the scooters and cars weaving around them to really appreciate the surroundings. Plus, with a nice tuk-tuk driver like our driver, Tomy, the stress of figuring out which temples to visit disappears. Going to Angkor is old hat for Tomy. He knew exactly where to go for us to get tickets and he had an awesome route in mind for us today. Plus,  he didn’t seem to mind that we took hours (literally) wandering through, in and around the temples.

The temples themselves are phenomenal. Being in them, walking through them, I kept wondering if they were really and truly real. As the saying goes, a picture is worth a thousand words, though in this case I might say that a picture is worth a million words. There is simply no way to describe the magnificence, beauty and detail of the temples and while the pictures can’t quite do it justice, I’ll let you peruse some of the nearly 400 we took today.

If ever you have the chance, Angkor is an amazing place and truly a wonder of the world.

Love,

Kali and Andy

 

 

 

 

 

Daily Journey Journal #134: Goodbye Malaysia

Some last pictures from Malaysia

Scooters, tuk tuks and massages

OMG!! SCOOTERS!

We are in Siem Reap now and though we have only been here a few short hours one thing has already made an impression on me and that is the scooters. I have never seen so many all at once. Watching them drive through traffic and around one another is incredible. Somehow they all weave together without crashing into anything. It is amazing. Undoubtedly, it takes a certain kind of skill (like not panicking or screaming) that I am sure I do not possess. The combination of cars, bikes and scooters would make me flip out, regardless of which I was driving. Fortunately, we do not have to drive here. More experienced, calm people will do that for us.

Our flight this morning was great. We had the fastest airport check-in of my life at the KL airport and then wandered around for a few hours until our flight. The two hours between Malaysia and Cambodia were gone in a flash and we had no troubles going through immigration at the airport. Everything was so smooth and simple, thanks to our E-Visas which meant we didn’t have to wait in the lines to get one today.

The hostel where we are staying is gorgeous. Although it is advertised as a hostel, it really feels like a nice hotel. We have our own room and bathroom, and  there is a pool and dinning area (complete with a huge breakfast menu and a complimentary breakfast, which Andy is thrilled about). It is a little way outside the central part of town, but that works for us because it is quieter out here. Town is small, but very busy. Despite Siem Reap being pretty remote (I think there are maybe two paved roads in the area) it is a very popular tourist destination. People are very friendly, but also very…pushy. Everywhere we walk people ask, “Tuk tuk?” (a tuk tuk is a motorcycle with a small carriage on the back for carrying people), “Lady, massage?”, “Sir, you buy?”, “You want?”, “Buy!”… After living in Korea this is a bit overwhelming, but I like the change of pace.

Tomorrow we will head to the temples. Our plan is to explore the temples for three days and on the forth to just chill out and perhaps visit one of the million massage shops in town. For now though, I’m off to sleep. The clock may say 10 p.m. but my body definitely thinks it is already past midnight. YAWN.

We’ll write soon!

 

Last Mission

After work on our last day of teaching last week, Headmaster took all the teachers out for a goodbye/welcome drink. A few drinks in, when we were all feeling emotional, he looked at Andy and me then said, “Are you ready for a last mission?”.

During our year at his school, Headmaster often phrased tasks like grading essays, meeting a goal in a specific class or making lesson plans in such a way. Somehow making it a mission seemed to make it better, I guess. Well, being buzzed and feeling sad about leaving, we of course accepted his mission.

“Take the school banner with you,” he said. “Take photos with it. It will be exciting to the students.”

We thought nothing of it and took the banner without question later in the evening when he stopped by to drop it off. He had folded it and put it in an envelope for us. Three days later in our K.L hostel room we opened the envelope and pulled it out. And pulled and pulled.

Both of us had excepted a small banner, one like that we used as a flag when we took students to the park to advertise our school. What we had before us was a giant banner, a good ten feet long, meant very much so for walls and not holding up between two people. We looked at each other and sighed.

No mission can ever simple. We forgot that rule.

So, over the last few days I have been carrying around a bright yellow, ten foot long banner in my backpack, trying to find a spot for us to stage a picture. The problem was, finding such a spot was proving difficult. We didn’t want to take it anywhere too busy and I refused to take the picture in front of any religious site, which significantly limited the places we could take the picture. During our adventure to Titiwangsa Lake yesterday, we thought maybe we would find a good place. The park proved to be too busy, however. The same was true of the nearby markets. With one day left, our options were down to one place: the Kuala Lumpur Tower, as our other plans for the day had us at a mosque and a Chinese temple.

Thus it was that we found ourselves climbing up a steep, winding road in the heat of the afternoon with our eyes gazing up at the tower looming over us. Sweat soaked into our already damp shirts, having previously been sweated through during a slight detour (ahem…getting lost) en route to the tower. At the top we were both panting and looking anything but picture worthy, but with the skyline behind us, the spot was too perfect to pass up, especially as we wouldn’t get another chance.

Foot by foot we pulled out the banner, Andy looking more and more uncomfortable. On one end of the banner is a large portrait of Headmaster with three teachers from many years ago. The words on the banner are rather faded and once it is all spread out, it just looks so ridiculously huge. In short, there is no greater way to call attention to us. Andy looked tempted to stuff it away, but I insisted. We’d climbed all the way up there, so why not? Besides, there was hardly anyone else around in that little corner, so I set up the camera and Andy pushed the button.

Stage 1 of Final Mission: COMPLETE

This one’s for you, Headmaster.

A world of wonder

The call to prayer, azan, draws us from sleep each morning. It is the first sound of humanity we hear, before the grumble of cars and grunting of buses on the road, before our fellow hostel mates begin to stir. I don’t understand the words, but the rise and fall of the mu’azzin’s voice is peaceful. In the room next to us I can hear Hassan, who works at the front desk, answering the call to prayer. His voice is low and quiet, a gentle awakening to the day. For a few minutes we lay in the dark. Our bodies are still adjusted to time in South Korea, one hour ahead of Kuala Lumpur, so we’ve been getting an early, but leisurely start to our days. When the azan drifts into silence, we crawl from bed, the first ones awake besides those hostel stayers leaving for morning flights. I drink my tea, write in my journal and we eat some toast before getting ready for the day’s adventure. This pattern is perfect, a true vacation for us.

In the last two days we have seen such an amazing diversity co-existing side by side in one city. After a year in homogeneous Korea, K.L. is such a breathe of fresh air. No one has pointed us out and shouted ‘Foreigner!’, no one has stared in shock at our differences. And, I would say, no one is as amazed and thrilled by everything as we are.

Our first day we went to the Batu Caves, a Hindu temple and shrine. A giant monkey-god statue stands guard at the gate closest to the K.L. Kommuter train station. Monkeys play along the buildings and temples nearby. As we neared the cave entrance, the 140-foot tall statue of the deity Lord Murugan came into view. This statue is the tallest in the world of Murugan and is probably the most iconic symbol of the caves. We took the 272 stair climb up, past the temple at the bottom and the statue, into the caves themselves. Inside are two additional temples. All along our climb monkeys frolicked along the handrails and steps, looking for things to eat and people to spook. The day we went was an important day for prayers, I think, because there were ceremonies happening at the temples and people were very dressed up as they entered. Not wanting to interfere, we tried to steer clear of the temples and instead took in the pure beauty of the caves. Like on the stairs, there were monkeys everywhere, stealing the offerings from the temples and barring their teeth at tourists who got too close.

Our next stop was Little India, where we had a fantastic lunch and wandered around the market. Bollywood-style music blared from one stall, vendors called out prices and traffic honked along in between the crowded sidewalks. The stalls were full of saris, dresses, men’s long shirts and pants, jewelry, snacks, groceries and decorations. Colors and patterns in every way imaginable filled the racks. I loved every second of our afternoon there. It was so bright and colorful, so vibrant. I have not yet been to India, but it is how I imagine a market might be.

In comparison to Little India, China Town where we visited later in the day, was so banal. It felt like walking into an outdoor Wal-Mart. The stalls were simply overflowing with knock-off brands of handbags, watches, shoes, clothes…just about anything. The narrow aisle-ways however, were packed with people. We didn’t last long before we were both overwhelmed and headed to the nearby Central Market where we had briefly explored the night we arrived. It was crowded, but not nearly as much. We finished our day with a quick dinner and an early return to the hostel.

Today we decided to start off with a nice walk at Titiwangsa Lake. It was a long way from the hostel, but the Monorail took us there no problem. Along the way we got to see K.L.’s business district, one of the famous shopping areas and a large part of the city. The park itself is beautiful and huge! All around it is almost 5 km of walking path and it was full of people exercising. Exercising! Do you know how cool it is to see people running outside, doing jumping jacks, pull-ups, walking in full sunshine, just for the fun of it? It is AMAZING! We are no longer the weirdos who like to sweat out in the sun. Woot! Our walk was fantastic and well worth the bit of wandering to find the park.

For lunch we went to a restaurant called Arabesque which had the best falafel I’ve ever had. All of our meals so far have been at little street-side shops, which has been fantastic, but we wanted to try a more formal restaurant,  just to see what they are like. We couldn’t have picked a better place. Our waiter was super nice and friendly. I think we were the first customers of the day and he was so generous to us,  giving us complimentary hummus and tea. The food was fantastic and we left feeling so full.

After eating we walked to the National Mosque, a short distance from our hostel. The National Mosque allows visitors at certain times of day, much to my excitement. I have always wanted to go to a mosque, as I have been told that they are beautiful, but had not yet had the opportunity to go. The day was super hot and humid so we were slightly wilted by the time we arrived.  After dressing in lavender robes, we entered the cool sanctuary of the mosque and instantly perked up. I thought that the robes might be hot, but they proved to be quite comfortable as we meandered. The cold marble beneath our feet, the quiet of the corridor, the gentle swishing of our robes, it was all calming after the busy streets we crossed to arrive. I fell in love with the architecture of the mosque, the open air rooms and angles, the latticework walls. Beautiful is not enough to describe it all. With visiting hours nearing an end, we left the mosque and headed back toward the hostel.

Our last wander of the day took us to the Hindu temple just three doors down from the hostel. We had passed it several times on our comings and goings, but had not stopped. At the time of day, it seemed fairly empty, so we figured we wouldn’t be disrupting or intruding if we went just then. The temple, like Little India, was so colorful and ornate. The details in the statues on the walls and the roof of the temple are amazing. A faint scent of sandalwood incense hung in the air as we walked around the temple. Just as we were getting ready to leave, the man who holds temple-goers shoes informed us that a prayer ceremony was about to begin and he motioned us back inside. We got to watch the priests give offerings to the main gods of the temple while drums, bells and a nadaswaram (a shrill sounding instrument that looks like a big oboe) filled the courtyard of the temple. It was a beautiful end to our day.

 

 

Malaysia, Day 1