my first leap

I’m back at the internet cafe opposite the 7-Eleven on the main road near Fragrance Hotel Emerald. Yes, back here again. We’re only going to stay one night before we catch our flight tomorrow afternoon. Kallang MRT (nearest station) is on the same green line as the airport. We just wanted to keep things simple. And it’s kind of cool to come back here and have that familiar feeling where you feel at home, like it’s a childhood neighbourhood.

Catching the KTM train from Kuala Lumpur was easy enough. We packed last night. As usual Seb whooshed through while I took my time. And as he got ready for bed, I was still packing and finding bits of his stuff that he had forgotten and was frustrating him by creating a neat pile for him to deal with when he woke. Remember what I said about the tortoise and the hare. This is a great example. Once I had finished, I had at the same time managed to tidy the room whilst putting away my mess. You should have seen Cullen’s face when he checked out the room he left me in; it was the uncleared aftermath of a bomb site. Cullen is very sweet; I later found out he had given me the room with proper twin beds and he slept on the sofa bed in another room. That is trully gentleman-like of him. I appreciate it Cullen! 

Seb and I did not get to bed until 1amish. He set his alarm – a new cheap watch he bought (we saw good-looking watches but you don’t really want to attract attention with good-looking watches), I set my alarm which I’ve figured out how to work finally and Seb asked for a morning wake-up call. We were well prepared.

After Seb exchanged emails with the guy on the reception desk; we left. My backpack, rid of many things posted or dumped, was still as full because naturally I had bought other things. It’s maddening how that happens and you always say to yourself, I’m going to have to dump stuff every time you lumber, stagger and struggle with the big lump on your back.

On the train, I try to hitch this monster lump of a backpack by first climbing and standing on the armrest. But as I yank, Seb always manages to come to the rescue. He tells me he doesn’t me to hurt myself. Really he doesn’t want to carry me, my backpack and his backpack as well if my back breaks or something. I reassure him telling I have travel insurance; if I die, all my visa debt will be covered and my family doesn’t have to weep in their sleep. Still he’s right and as it just takes a finger for him to lift it, I move out of his way and leave him to do the manly thing. 

Crossing the border from Kuala Lumpur to Singapore and vice versa is a puzzling affaire. On the way to Kuala Lumpur; we got stamped out of Singapore but never got a stamp to enter Malaysia. And on the way out of Kuala Lumpur, guards enter our carriages, check our passports and entry forms and with a red ballpoint pen, squiggle on my passport. This squiggle is my official stamp out of Malaysia because later we get stamped into Singapore. But this time going out of KL unlike going out of Singapore, we have to take our luggage with us to be scanned. It just goes to show how serious Singapore is about people coming into Singapore compared to Malaysia where one man’s squiggle is enough.

At Hotel Chinatown 2 there’s a shelf of books people can exchange their books for. I saw Bill Bryson’s ‘Neither here or there’ and took it without an exchange but hey, I am travelling budget-style and I can’t help it if I have no book to exchange. I read half the book on our train journey. Bill Bryson doesn’t like the French. I show extracts to Seb. Seb asks ‘Is he American?’ Yes, Bryson mentions he’s American and I guess he should know. Seb replies in his French way ‘Pur!’, a ’nuff said’ type of gesture. I tell Seb he can read it after. I ask Seb if he’s read the 2 Buddhist books the doctor gave him. He tells me ‘no’. I skimmed read one of the books; not fun reads.

I bought lots of snacks at Kuala Lumpur Sentral station – a modern hub of sleekness compared to Singapore’s KTM train station – to get rid of the Malaysian ringgits we had. Later I find out Seb won’t touch the crisps, prawn crackers and chocolate. Instead he went to search for proper food. He came back with a box of fried brown noodles which would have been more appealing if it wasn’t cold. I was concerned about how long it’s been cold. He tells me they have rice, a more appealing option. Luckily when the women came round with the food trolley, they accepted Singapore dollars as we had no Malaysian money left. One snack I bought at the 7-Eleven that Seb took a real liking to was a sweet dough-like thing that reminded me of the flubbery flubber jelly-like but thicker in the Robin William’s film. This sweet is called ‘mustiara dodol’. We tried the durian brown one and the pandan green one. At the food festival we saw how it was made, mixed in a vat by giant metal arms.

Got to go for food.

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To Andrew: Thanks for your comment. It means a lot. Everyone’s comments have meant a lot.

To Amy: Thanks. Yes, please tell me what mum and dad thought.

To Simon: Will try call mum tonight.

***

The shortest answer is doing the thing. – Ernest Hemingway (writer, novelist).

Just arrived in Kuala Lumpur today, late; just had lovely Chinese claypot rice meal in Chinatown, I liked; our hotel ‘Hotel Chinatown 2’ is dead bang in Chinatown, so cool; and this internet cafe is hardly just a minute walk away, mega cool. There’s a handful of internet cafes; this one is run locally and is much better than the opposite one which is part of a hostel.

On the 13th, we tried to book a hotel in Kuala Lumpur and after several telling us that they were fully booked, and one particularly telling us it was because of some Arabic holiday (I looked it up and couldn’t find a thing on it); Seb and I decided to stay the 2 more nights. We had originally planned to go to Kuala Lumpur and then back to Singapore (for our flight to Vietnam) for another 2 nights. But in the end, we did all 4 nights in a row at the same hotel ‘Fragrance Hotel – Emerald’ 

The area is great; the locals come for the food stalls that go on til late in the morning. Yesterday night, Seb and I met up with Kelvin and Joanna, a couple Seb met at the airport. Both are from Singapore and speak Cantonese, Mandarin and Malay I’m sure. Kelvin is really into music, plays guitar and Joanna works in the film industry. They introduced us to frogs legs (without the congee), which tasted nicer than expected – but the weird stuff always do or no one would eat it. And it’s different when you don’t have to see them alive just before you eat them. Grilled crayfish and oyster omelette were mmmh mmmh. I tried Teh Tarik (stretched tea) which is tea with a taste that stretches out into a twist – really seriously, the taste has that sense of movement once swallowed. Weird I know but very tasty.

Our hotel is smack bang centre of the red light district so it’s not surprising that opposite is Hotel 6 (we found loads of hotels with simply numbers at the end of ‘Hotel’ eg Hotel 12 and Hotel 81). These hotels offer a ‘transit’ rate of $12 and an overnight rate of $40. Hotel 6, Seb and I studied a little more. Pretty slim (very young girls according to Seb; I’m blind so I can only tell that they’re slim) stand in front of Hotel 6. Men who stay in our hotel stare at pretty young slim girls dressed in tight short dresses on the other side of the road. We thought about staying over there to get a closer look at the going ons but we decided that we probably wouldn’t get much sleep with all the expected noise. We passed a group of gorgeous looking women until one of them spoke with a very masculine male voice – they were gorgeous looking women who were men! The area sounds really seedy but it’s not. Locals bring their family here for food and around the stalls it could easily be somewhere else. And we didn’t see any trouble at all.

Seb and I love the ginger tea you can get in Geylang, though we didn’t know how good it could get until Joanna and Kelvin took us to Little India; Joanna tells us that it’s properly done in a Muslim food stall as others offer instant powdered versions. You have to taste the real thing to tell the difference and we did. Kelvin and Joanna showed us the Mustafa Centre that is owned by this one guy called, yes you’ve guessed, Mustafa. They tell us this guy has CCTV cameras all over the place checking on his stalls. So we joke about this guy who sits in his mansion up high watching as he rakes it in. Anyway, this centre is amazing. It will blow your mind. It’s open 24 hours a day – the claims department is open 24 hours. And I do not exaggerate when I say, you can find anything and everything here, even things you didn’t know you wanted until you’re looking at it and you’re suddenly thinking ‘I need that’. With toilets on every floor – this guy wants you to relieve yourself quick and return to shopping quick time – and a labrynth of piles, rows, columns – name it they’ve got it – of merchandise. Just the torch section, man, I’ve never seen so many sizes, brands, choices – and cheap. You get brands from all over the world; same item, billions of brands from even the Arab countries, everywhere! Things you didn’t know existed or could get. Suddenly everything for everything you can imagine under one big gigantic store. I was tempted by the 2 CDs claiming to teach you 31 different languages, up to 5,000 words each language. You really must not move from the central path or you are lost forever. I found more insect repellent patches and candles. I found a hankerchief which I couldn’t find in Taiwan. I was looking for Camphor oil, an oil Ling mentioned that might help keep the insect buggers at bay (though Citronella oil and Eucalyptus oil are also natural insect repellents) while the others were checking out the many many many allsorted varieties of condoms. They do durian flavoured condoms! Joanna tells us that the durian is so popular here that it’s available (engineered) all year round; she remembers the days when it was more delicious and only available naturally at a particular time – though she and people have forgotten the season that it grows naturally. On buses, there’s a ‘no durian’ sign so it’s illegal to take them on a bus. Want to durian, walk home or persuade a taxi to take you and even the taxi driver might refuse you because they stink! Here, the same as in Hong Kong, you have to have the exact fare for the buses; no change is given. MRT stop around midnight but there are always taxis. Blue light on a taxi means they’re free. Red; they hired. Blue but with a sign means they’re on call but if you’re going the same way; they can take you. Singapore has take signs to another level. Not only do signs tell you how to behave but also encourage spiritual enlightenment. The tracks at the MRT tells you to ‘Value Life. Act Responsibly’. And TV screens not only advertise while you wait for the train; it gives you meaning quotes, not too dissimilar to the ones given at the end of my blog entries.

For our last couple of mornings, Seb and I cannot resist eating plain prata; an Indian pancake-like grilled bread. Just right next to Bugis MRT, a guy works the dough so you get fresh prata for breakfast. At the same food court, we also love the Yung Tau Foo stall where you pick the veg, the meat balls and the variety of tau foo (beancurd) for a soup or noodle soup or just-sauce-on-top dish. 

Seb and I have done most of the green and red MRT line. HarbourFront; try kaya toast at the Wang Jiao House of Kaya Toast. Kaya toast is a combination of coconut mix, sugar, egg, butter-like, jam-like substance slapped in the middle of crispy toast. For me, it was too sweet on it’s own but I can imagine tamed with black coffee. I can’t have coffee and Seb said his black coffee was equivalent to 35 espressos so he finished off the toast. The touristy food stalls near Newton MRT called Newton Circus is swamped by tourists and where there are tourists, there are pushy stall owners/waiters. The cost of a meal could have fed a family for a month. The food was good but I didn’t like the pushy waiters. Orchard Rd is another touristy area. Touristy areas are not great areas to hang out in. There are food courts close to most MRT stations and there is at least one fruit juice stall. Two new favourites are starfruit and kiwi; and kiwi and green melon. We do a-guess-what-I-got-you-contest. Seb is not very good at guessing. It tastes like green grass?!

I found the National Skin Centre (Novena MRT) on a list of hospitals in Singapore. Having called them, they were able to see me the next morning. They train doctors there so I was seen by a doctor who had a trainee doctor watching as well. I showed them the damage (it looks much better now – it’s now, like the doctor said, just a pigmentation problem). This centre is very efficient and clean. There is a number system though numbers are called at random so don’t disappear thinking there’s a long time to wait. Numbers are random and can jump up or down missing out numbers in between. A number system to see the doctor, a separate number system to collect medicine (random as well) and another for paying for medicine! They like numbers and signs in Singapore. The doctor said the scarring (pigmentation problem – the affected bits will be obviously browner in colour) could last more than 2 years. I believe him. He gave me some cream. When I found out I was getting just cream at the medicine counter, I didn’t want it. The Taiwanese doctor gave me cream which had side effects of burning and itching! After 10 mins of application, I got the ‘adverse side effects’ so Ling and I agreed to not use them. I dumped them at Singapore airport. Seb said cream would help. I made sure they weren’t the same cream. I asked the lady if she can ask the doctor to prescribe me some pills just in case the itching and burning came back so I got myself some more pills. At the moment, I take about 4 different pills twice a day and one, before bed. I haven’t got bitten like Seb has but I think it’s because the insects can smell my toxic body and decided against being drugged as well.

***

To Nick: Thanks : 0 ) The pigmentation will even out but will take 2 or more years, the doctor said. But all is well, no itching, no burning means a peaceful mind.

***

Poster $8.99 (81 x 115 in)

For beautiful eyes, look for the good in others; for beautiful lips, speak only words of kindness; and for poise, walk with the knowledge that you are never alone. – Audrey Hepburn. Belgian born British Actress and humanitarian.

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