Opportunity Knocks

“She always returned to her theory that a young woman whom after all every one thought clever should begin by getting a general impression of life.  This impression was necessary to prevent mistakes, and after it should be secured she might make the unfortunate condition of others a subject of special attention.”   -Henry James, Portrait of a Lady

2am, somewhere outside Kuala Lumpur, a bus pulls over at a service station, and an American girl bounds out, exclaiming, “Ay, que frio!” before running around to the side of the bus to retrieve a sweater.  Why is an American speaking Spanish in Malaysia?  Or better yet, why the following night did she find herself in a cave at 4:30 in the morning?  Read on to find out.

I left Thailand without too much trouble.  The bus sector of the tourism industry is remarkably well connected, but this is not to say it is without aggravation.  All bus companies apparently being in collaboration, there is always someone pulling you one way or another; onto a boat to the mainland, onto the back of a truck with 6 other people, from bus company to bus company to mini-bus to big bus.  Although it seems confusing for the traveler, the people who work from the companies know exactly what’s going on at all times….or so you tell yourself as you board yet another form of transportation at yet another unknown transit stop at ungodly hours in the morning.  I prefer trains because there is none of this changing business, you just get into your sleeper car, and when you wake up, you’re there-even if it is 4 hours later than you expected.  For whatever reason, I decided to head to Kuala Lumpur via bus.  I was lucky in that from the beginning, there were 3 other guys in my mini-van who were going there too.  They were from Ecuador, Mexico and Spain, but were studying together in China, and now taking a vacation (hence my usage of Spanish, scant though it may be).  The final big bus they load us onto is quite miserable.  My last overnight bus seemed luxurious with wide, reclining chairs, blankets and pillows, and a bathroom.  This one had chairs.  Malaysia is hot and humid, really humid. But I don’t mind the temperatures, as I like wearing lighter clothes.  Unfortunately, my skirt and tank top did not work well with the arctic temperatures on board this particular bus.  So after being unable to sleep on “overnight” bus, we are dropped off in Kuala Lumpur five hours ahead of schedule, at 4 in the morning.  After being turned away from two full hostels, we opt for a budget hotel instead.  It now being 4:30am, the guy at the desk doesn’t want to give us a room yet, so we pass out all over his lobby until he wakes us around 6 with a room.  Then we crash till noon, at which point, I get my own room (With a TV.  Classy). 

 On the way here, I spoke a while with an older British couple who were headed to Penang, and said that this weekend is a big Hindu festival called Thaipusam.  Looking online, I find out that the biggest celebration is right here in K.L.  I think it’s interesting how often I just run into various holidays and celebrations.  It makes me wonder if it is more a thing of good fortune, or perhaps that there are more things in this world worth running into than I thought.  Or maybe people just like throwing parties.  This particular party consists of a hike from central K.L. to the Batu Caves…approximately 15 km south of K.L.  It was my understanding that the walking commenced the next afternoon, so I turned in early to take advantage of my HBO.  Well, as I’m watching Steven Segal in The Glimmer Man (It was all that was on!  You would have done the same thing!!), I hear something outside.  I walked up two flights of stairs to get to my room, so I assume it is ok to take a quick peek out on my balcony sans pants.  Quickly discovering that my room is still somehow mysteriously on the ground level, I retreat and put some clothes on before going back out.  Apparently the walking starts this night. There were tons of people walking through the streets.  I think I am tired, and that I should sleep, but then I think, oh why not, and grab my camera, a little money, a plastic bag (for my camera because it is raining) and head to the streets, knowing full well that I was embarking at 11:30 at night for a 15km no turning back walkathon.  The walking wasn’t bad at all.  For one thing, it was made much nicer by free handouts every hundred meters or so.  People giving you water, food, juice, candy, more, more, more.  Nobody goes hungry at Hindu parties, gotta love it.  In this case, my face did me a favor, as everybody seemed happy that the strange little white girl was willing to go out into the rain and march all the way with them, so I was a constant target for people trying to give me delicious halava.  Poor me.  I saw many women carrying these little metallic canisters on their heads; apparently, part of the custom is that they carry these things (I think they were full of coconut milk) all the way to the caves, on their heads.  Moreover, probably at least half of the people were not wearing shoes-a gutsy move in a big city.  I want you to get a good idea of how absolutely massive this procession was.  I’ve just checked on-line for stats, and there are over a million people who gather for this thing every year in K.L. alone.  That’s a big ole parade.  It’s not Macy’s, but it’s nothing to sniff at, either. 

 There were a couple of things I saw along the way that I won’t expand upon here, but you can see pictures up on webshots with explanations if you click the link over on the right side of the page.  I walk quickly, though I never come to the front of the line, and arrive around 4:30am.  Then I climb stairs upon stairs to get to the temple itself, where I just sit and watch the crowd for a while.  I ask someone something along the lines of, “what now”, and they tell me that now we wait for the chariot to come in.  I think this sounds like a plan, and that although I passed the chariot at walking speed some 4 hours ago, it is motorized, so surely will be there before too long.  6am rolls around and I’m manic with exhaustion, and decide to go back to the hotel to sleep for a few hours before returning.  6:30, I realize there are a good deal of other people who would like to do the same, but no one knows how to get back to town short of walking.  7:00 I resign myself to the long walk back.  7:30, I run into a packed bus-like New Years packed-but manage to squeeze on and head back to my room.

The next day is when the real celebration starts, all this other was just preliminaries.  Today was hot, but at least it wasn’t raining.  There were a multitude of people already there when I arrived this morning, so the streets in front of the cave were ringing with music and jammed with people sweating all over each other.  They stood along the sides of the street watching the line of party people go by.  And just how do they party?  By sticking hooks and pins through their skin, of course.  Duh.  I’m standing on the outside, with my camera held over my head to get a better shot when a guy grabs my arm (nicely) and leads me through the masses and into the line of the parade where I am able to get a picture close up.  It was really amazing stuff.  Apparently, they enter into a trance, or rather, their bodies play temporary host to a god, so they don’t feel pain, nor do they bleed, nor do they seem to be completely aware of their surroundings or situation.  They are photogenic, however.  Some people had spears through their cheeks or foreheads, some had hooks in their backs or stomachs supporting either flowers, assorted fruits, or large floats which they wore on their shoulders.  Then there were others who’s hooks attached to lines attached to another person or floats on wheels which they pulled.  Pretty hardcore.  So I wandered around for a while taking pictures and then sat down for lunch, where I was befriended by an early 30s couple, Angel and Ben.  They are both Malaysian, but Angel speaks Chinese while Ben speaks Hindi, so they converse in English, which is to my advantage as I also converse in English.  They invite me to walk around with them, which I do, and we go into the caves and around to the various stands selling music or carpets or sweets or anything else.  Then I take off to come here, because I knew downloading those pictures was going to take a considerable amount of time.  I took a couple of videos as well, but I’m not sure how or where to put those up.  If anyone has any pointers on this, please share.  I’ve got a bus to Singapore tonight, which, my father tells me is to immaculately clean, one is not allowed to chew gum.  Wonder if that’s a hangin offense.

Tags: Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, Travel

This entry was posted on Saturday, February 11th, 2006 at 04:41 and is filed under Travel. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.