my first leap

I’m at the internet area in Hotel Chinatown 2. I didn’t know this existed for a day or two – so blind – it costs just a little bit more and there are only 5 computers (compared to Kafe Internet (my favourite) which has over 30 high speed connection) so if you don’t like someone standing by waiting for you to finish or you like the buzz of hearing over 20 youngsters play computer games beside you – then Kafe Internet would suit you more where you can pay by the hour or pay when you finish. The other night, Seb and I were on the computers when there was a blackout. I remember the two deaf teenagers on my left sign languaging to half a dozen other deaf people on their computer and every now and then they’d make me jump with some squeeking and horse-like laughing; behind me this older guy was having a very very serious emotional one to one (well, one to one with many listening in – via Skype no doubt) in Cantonese with, I thought from the language used, a loved one who either is a guy or unfortunately has a guy’s name. Seb was in the middle of a long email; I wasn’t. We checked out another place close by which looked a bit dodgier but I did see it in the dark – it too was experiencing a blackout at the same time. There’s no short supply of internet cafes here in Kuala Lumpur but I personally liked Kafe Internet close to Chinatown.

After yesterday’s post on Seb’s hyper-energetic superhuman physical presence; I got back from the internet cafe to him knocked out for the day. Next day, he was still not feeling very good, which is unusual for him it seems. He tells me he’s seldom ill so this was worrying. He tells me he saw a Chinese medicinal place where you can get a free consultation but of course pay for the medicine prescribed. So after some beef noodles and collecting the laundry from the hostel place nearby that does laundry by the kilo, we go to this Chinese doctor. I leave him to do some shopping for my family. I come back and he’s got really chummy with the Chinese guy behind the counter. I later find out he got really chummy with the doctor as well, so chummy the doctor gave him two books ‘Setting back into the moments’and ‘Now is the knowing’ – Buddhist books. He has a way with men. Okay, he too has a way with women. Man, he has a way with people, children, cats and dogs and rats! Am I envious? Yes. Is it like walking with Buddha sometimes. Yes. Can it be frustrating sometimes? Yes. It’s difficult to live up to Buddha-like people, especially when what you want to hear is plain biased bullshit and you get wisdom instead. Actually, I lie, Seb gives good bullshit as well. Anyway, he shows me these bags of bits of herb crush to bits of dust; it didn’t look appetising.

We shop and we take everything I bought to the nearest post office within reach of Chinatown. It is within the bus building where there are lots of food stalls – but the air conditioning is either non-existent or broken or not working well so it gets hotter than the outside – and booths to buy tickets. People hassle you talking jibberish in my eyes but are probably trying to get you to buy their tickets. The post office is near booth 27, up the stairs and on the next floor, in an area where no signs lead to it and you only know it exists by asking people. The young thin guy in the post office is bored of his job but still manages to do a good thorough job. We’ve met him before. This time Seb encourages me to send everything in a box. We discuss the merits of a box that can’t go through the letterbox or four A4 envelopes of stuff that will. The box wins because sticking the stamps on envelopes with glue can take some fiddling time. This time, it’s going recorded delivery and by the fastest simplest route.

After the post office, I thought I’d give this Chinese doctor a try. I’ve started to develop prickly heat around my neck area and my ankle area the last couple of days and the pills don’t seem to work for this. I see this doctor. He asks me where I’m from originally. I tell him Vietnam and that’s it, I’m Vietnamese in his eyes. He asks me if I know this Vietnamese person, that Vietnamese thing, this Vietnamese thing etc. No, I respond to them all. He prescribes me herbs that look exactly like Seb’s. He tells me these herbs will cool the heat down in my body, same thing he said to Seb. This friendly woman weighs out bits of herb dust and I find out I have a weeks worth, a packet to be taken in the morning and one at night. I’m really looking forward to drinking herb dust sloshed in water, yum yum not.

Back at the hotel, we decide on tonight’s food choices. Seb disappears to leave me to nap for a while. He’s chummy with the guy at the hotel desk – no surprise there. And he comes back with a list of recommendations. The hotel staff are really friendly and very helpful. I like this hotel. When we first got here, they gave us a twin room, but Seb didn’t like it. They gave us another room, but I just mentioned that it feels claustrophobic – Seb is off downstairs before I say the rest of the sentence, that it’s okay. When he’s back, I learnt that Seb went downstairs and explained that me, his wife-to-be (we thought it would be better for us if we pretended as it’s a muslim country; wherever we go people naturally believe I’m his wife for some reason so we just left it – oh, to people we are getting married in November) is scared of small spaces; the man Seb’s really chummy with said he’d give us another room next day. The room we have now is big and has windows – the advantages of having Seb being the way he is, chummy and energetic, and me being the neurotic wife-to-be and to many the traveller-actress-drama queen-maniac-itch pot-blogger. We didn’t leave the room til really late today; Seb not feeling himself; me enjoying sleeping til late for once and yet they still cleaned our room when we got back. I was pleasantly surprised. It’s either very normal and I’m just so easily pleased or this place is pretty cool. Though, if you do go here, there are rooms that have no windows and at night asleep in your bed, you’d be surprised to hear the snoring man next door and think that you’re really just in a thin cleverly disguised box in the middle of a hall and every now and then people walk by talking very loudly. It depends on which room you’re given. I later find out the room we ended up in – a good room – is a deluxe room and Seb had to pay a bit extra for it. In the end, we had Indian food. We were recommended this place on Lebur Ampang called ‘Sangeethar’ – I would so recommend this place. The food is simply out of this world. The lemon ginger tea is as delicious as the Triveni drink of, yes, a reminder, apple, pineapple and ginger.

Tutup (Closed)

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Thanks William and Adrian for your comments on Silent Witness.

To my bro Si, you repeating 2 of my lines made me realise watching myself would be so embarrassing! Man, that Chinese accent, how embarrassing!

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It’s not the mountain we conquer but ourselves. – Edmund Hillary (explorer).

Tags: Kuala Lumpur, Post Office, Travel

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