Nothing of great import happened between when my last email ended and wendsday night. On wendsday night, however there was a reception for the UBC exchange students where we heard some speaches, shmoozed, got a big cheque, and (most important for me) got to dress up. I wore my new suit and was defenately looking sharp (pictures to follow when I get a computer with that cheque...).
As soon as the reception was over at about 7pm, two other UBC exchange students and I left for Kuala Lumpour (KL). We took the MTR (just like the sky train) to a bus stop where we took a bus that got us over the border. The bus was unlike anything I had seen before. First, the bus dropped us off at Singapore's exit customs, once there we went up the escalator had our passports stamped and then went down the other side where a bus (the same route, but not the same physical bus) was waiting. We got on and it took us to Malaysian customs where we did the same thing. The interesting thing was that when we got on the third time, we were riding a Singapore bus in Malaysia, defenately a step beyond riding a West Van bus in Vancouver. The bus then took us to the bus station in Johor Bahru (JB, the Malaysians are big into acronyms), we got to the bus station at about 9pm.
The bus system in Malaysia is very different from ours in Canada. First, there are many different bus operators running the same routes at the same time, second, most of the smaller operators do not have set fares but rather charge you are rate that you have to bargain out, finaly and most advantagous to us, busses in Malaysia are much more comfortable having only three business class seats in a row as opposed to four on nearly all north american busses. After some intense and tireing negotiations with bus ticket vendors that did not lead anywhere, we opted for the only bus operator that had set fares and sheduals. We paid RM20 (C$1=RM2.7) for a seat on the 9:30 bus and we were on our way. The bus its self was all decked out. It had super big, plush seats and curtains on the windows, and the driver was playing arabic prayer music over the sterio system. Once we got on the highway, we went into our reclining position and passed out.
We were unceremoniously woken several hours later by the bus driver announceing that we had arrived in KL and we had to leave the bus. Groggy, we gathered our things and walked out towards the first hotel we could find (which was convieniently located across the street and was found for us by an indian man saying "backpakers, here"). After surveying the rooms we settled on a RM38 room with a fan instead of a/c.
The next morning we awoke and set forth onto the city. The other two guys, Ryan and Johnny, both in commerce, each had lonely planet south east asia books and some idea what they were doing, so we set out for china town. On our way we ate breakfast in a dodgy mall food court. China town, or at least the touristy part, consists really of one street, covered by a huge glass cieling, that has been restricted to pedestrian traffic and is full of stands selling counterfiet clothing, shoes, sunglasses, and almost anything else you can think of. I picked up a pair of "ray ban" aviator sunglasses, while Ryan and Johnny each got linnen shirts (but unfourtunately there were no linnen suits to be found :( from there we wandered by _____ square (I have forgotten its name but it is an important part of the story so I will continue refering to it in this way) where we took some pictures and were approached by a middle aged indian man who, unsolicited, gave us the best and most comprehensive tourist advice about KL that we could have hoped for. He went on to explain that he was homeless and living in the square, but the whole time he did not ask for money, nor was he a crack head like so many of those who give "advice" in vancouver. Johnny was so struk by his story that he twice returned to the square to look for this man.
Armed with the avice and an annotated map from this man, we set off once again. We started on the "parks, monuments and national stuff" (my words, not his) trail that he had set out for us. But, after seeing the sculpture garden and the national monument (both very nice) we decided to forget all this and go shopping at the golden triangle malls he had suggested.
Once again his advice was right on the money. As soon as we walked into the first mall he suggested, I saw at the other side a store called "factory outlet". Knowing that many (or nearly all) clothing is made in south east asia, I knew this would be no north american factory "outlet". First, it was not just one company, but had many different brands on sale, second, and most importanly, everything was in Malaysian prices for western brands and styles. I got a pair of real zara pants for RM20 and a two button collar shirt (not as nice as my other ones :P) for RM50.
That night we thought we would go out and experience the KL nightlife. Well... being that Malaysia is a muslim country it was not as good as I had hoped. We took a 15 minute cab ride out of town from our hotel to a bar district with many small bars. After walking up and down the strip, we walked into the most full bar. Being malaysia, the bar was mostly filled with chinese, but with a m:f ratio of about 65:35 or worse. To agrivate the situation, despite playing dance music, there was no real dance floor, just a bar area, so things were very crowded and not too pleasent. After one drink and 30 minutes, we moved on to the next place. We soon discovered that the only difference between this one and the first one was that the first one was popular. Disheartened we took a cab home. Once back in our neghiborhood we regained our drinking ambition and found a tourist oriented regge bar. There, to our surprise, we found three other NUS students at a table drinking. We pulled up with them ordered a few more pitchers and had a good time talking about thier native Sweeden, Canada, Singapore, and Malaysia.
The next day we all took a bus out to a cave that was also a hindu holy sight and filled with monkeys (yes, this one's for you Cameron), really. We took a few pictures (which I will send/post when I get a computer) and went back to town.
Since we had decided that we didn't want to do more shopping, there was only one thing left to do, eat. The day before we had found this place called the S&M food court and we decided to check it out. To our surprise it was clean and full of good food, we left happy. Johnny and Ryan went back to _____ square to find the indian guy and I went back to the hotel to write the last mass email. When they came back, we were off to the beach. Or so we thought...
The bus to Port Dickson was supposed to be at 6:30. We made our way down to the platform where we waited and waited in a poorly ventilated basement full of busses that passes for a bus station in this random third world country. Finaly at 7:15 a bus shoed up. There was a mad dash to get on and in the confusion, we didn't make it. The bus, already almost full when it arrived, left without us. We were told that there would be one final bus at 7:45 that we could get on. Not wanting to inhale more bus fumes that we had to, we went back to S&M food court and ate again. When we got back to the bus station at 7:45 everyone was still waiting, and waiting, until 8:15 when the second bus finaly showed up, but not in the bay it was supposed to, but rather two births over. There was a mad dash as weary travelers trying to make it home/to the beach fought their way onto the bus. Luckily this time there was enough room for everyone, although some unlucky people had to stand for the trip. As the bus started roling, I passed out.
Again with the unceremonious awakenings and we were in Port Dickson. Despite having eaten three times already that day, we decieded we should eat again. We went to the outdoor restaurant at the bus station and placed our order and waited, and waited... as we watched american wrestling on the tv we started to wonder what was happening, but we decided to wait more. 30 minutes after we placed our order we inquired about the status of our food. Unfourtunately the only one who spoke passable english, and the one who had taken our order in the first place, had left. Feelign pissed off, hungry, and mostly confused, we cought a cab to the area recomended for us and started looking for a hotel. The first two places we tried were closed for the night (it was by then rather past midnight) so when the third was open, we didn't care enough about the ants crawling on the wall to turn it down. We brought in our stuff, played cards, and drank some beer we had packed with us and went to sleep.
I was sleeping on the top bunk, and above me there was a hole in the cieling. It did not go all the way through the roof, but it was a hole above my bed. When we were checking in I complained to the manager that there was dirt on my sheet. He said that it must have come from the hole and he got me a new sheet. I thought the issue had been resolved... Unfourtunately it had not. At around 7am (which, if you know me, you must realise is the middle of the night) I awoke to the feelign of little tickles all over my body. I was shaked to consciousness when I realised they were ants, in the neighiborhood of 50 of them, having fallen from the hole in the ceiling, crawling all over me. I made futile attempts to kill them, then I realised that they had won. I got up, cleaned myself off, and bunked up with Ryan (who was in a double bed). Eventually, after I finaly got my mind enough off the ants... I fell asleep for another few hours.
We got up and went to the hotel's restaurant to have breakfast. I must say, if the ant experience were any less jarring, it would have made up for everything. Johnny and the hotel owner were both chinese so they got to talking and we got ourselves the best meal I had the entire time in malaysia. It was just claypot chicken and stirfry vegtables, but the were done so well...
After breakfast we bought some beer and headed for the beach. Until this point the whole islamic country thing hadn't really been an issue, but at the beach it was a real impediment. The beach we had gone to was almost entirely local and that meant that the women, the few that there were, were wearing headscarves and modest clothes. Talk about a downer. What is even the point of going to the beach? We sat, drank beer and played cards for a while before heading back to town to catch the bus to Singapore.
We got to the bus station at 6:08 to discover that the bus to the next town (who's name I have also not bothered to remember) had just left at 6:00. The next bus being at 8:30 combined with our desire to sleep in our own (sortof) beds that night lead us to charter a taxi for RM30 to take us on the same route. Like always, we passed out on the way. Again, we arrived at the station at 8:05 only to discover that we had just missed a bus at 8:00... So, after some looking we found one that would take us to JB at 8:30, so we bought our tickets and waited, and waited... at 9pm it showed up. We got on, and surprisingly didn't fall asleep. Maybe it was the nap we had just taken or maybe it was the aqua remixes being blasted by the bus driver on our business class bus but I stayed up reading The Economist by the light of my hand phone until the battery died.
When we arrived at the bus station in JB our luck finally changed; we just barely caught the bus to the border. Getting on this bus gave us all such a feeling of relief. This clean, air conditioned bus was taking us from the third world back into the first. We knew there would be no more busses that leave on time only when they are being missed, we knew there would be no more ants, we knew cleanlyness was job 2 (behind law and order), we knew we could again trust the food and water. We were home.
I start school tomorrow, and I will be getting a computer some time this week. I don't know if I should keep sending these long messages and I don't know if I will still have as many interesting things to say as I fall into a routine, but judging by the positive responce I have had so far I will keep sending more as circumstances warrent. Also, I have taken about 50 pictures so far on my digital camera and many of them go with much of what I have written in these messages (S&M food court, ants on the bed, monkeys, scotch in the club from the first email...) so I will send/post/find some way of conveying them as soon as I get a computer.
'Till the next one
Marc
As soon as the reception was over at about 7pm, two other UBC exchange students and I left for Kuala Lumpour (KL). We took the MTR (just like the sky train) to a bus stop where we took a bus that got us over the border. The bus was unlike anything I had seen before. First, the bus dropped us off at Singapore's exit customs, once there we went up the escalator had our passports stamped and then went down the other side where a bus (the same route, but not the same physical bus) was waiting. We got on and it took us to Malaysian customs where we did the same thing. The interesting thing was that when we got on the third time, we were riding a Singapore bus in Malaysia, defenately a step beyond riding a West Van bus in Vancouver. The bus then took us to the bus station in Johor Bahru (JB, the Malaysians are big into acronyms), we got to the bus station at about 9pm.
The bus system in Malaysia is very different from ours in Canada. First, there are many different bus operators running the same routes at the same time, second, most of the smaller operators do not have set fares but rather charge you are rate that you have to bargain out, finaly and most advantagous to us, busses in Malaysia are much more comfortable having only three business class seats in a row as opposed to four on nearly all north american busses. After some intense and tireing negotiations with bus ticket vendors that did not lead anywhere, we opted for the only bus operator that had set fares and sheduals. We paid RM20 (C$1=RM2.7) for a seat on the 9:30 bus and we were on our way. The bus its self was all decked out. It had super big, plush seats and curtains on the windows, and the driver was playing arabic prayer music over the sterio system. Once we got on the highway, we went into our reclining position and passed out.
We were unceremoniously woken several hours later by the bus driver announceing that we had arrived in KL and we had to leave the bus. Groggy, we gathered our things and walked out towards the first hotel we could find (which was convieniently located across the street and was found for us by an indian man saying "backpakers, here"). After surveying the rooms we settled on a RM38 room with a fan instead of a/c.
The next morning we awoke and set forth onto the city. The other two guys, Ryan and Johnny, both in commerce, each had lonely planet south east asia books and some idea what they were doing, so we set out for china town. On our way we ate breakfast in a dodgy mall food court. China town, or at least the touristy part, consists really of one street, covered by a huge glass cieling, that has been restricted to pedestrian traffic and is full of stands selling counterfiet clothing, shoes, sunglasses, and almost anything else you can think of. I picked up a pair of "ray ban" aviator sunglasses, while Ryan and Johnny each got linnen shirts (but unfourtunately there were no linnen suits to be found :( from there we wandered by _____ square (I have forgotten its name but it is an important part of the story so I will continue refering to it in this way) where we took some pictures and were approached by a middle aged indian man who, unsolicited, gave us the best and most comprehensive tourist advice about KL that we could have hoped for. He went on to explain that he was homeless and living in the square, but the whole time he did not ask for money, nor was he a crack head like so many of those who give "advice" in vancouver. Johnny was so struk by his story that he twice returned to the square to look for this man.
Armed with the avice and an annotated map from this man, we set off once again. We started on the "parks, monuments and national stuff" (my words, not his) trail that he had set out for us. But, after seeing the sculpture garden and the national monument (both very nice) we decided to forget all this and go shopping at the golden triangle malls he had suggested.
Once again his advice was right on the money. As soon as we walked into the first mall he suggested, I saw at the other side a store called "factory outlet". Knowing that many (or nearly all) clothing is made in south east asia, I knew this would be no north american factory "outlet". First, it was not just one company, but had many different brands on sale, second, and most importanly, everything was in Malaysian prices for western brands and styles. I got a pair of real zara pants for RM20 and a two button collar shirt (not as nice as my other ones :P) for RM50.
That night we thought we would go out and experience the KL nightlife. Well... being that Malaysia is a muslim country it was not as good as I had hoped. We took a 15 minute cab ride out of town from our hotel to a bar district with many small bars. After walking up and down the strip, we walked into the most full bar. Being malaysia, the bar was mostly filled with chinese, but with a m:f ratio of about 65:35 or worse. To agrivate the situation, despite playing dance music, there was no real dance floor, just a bar area, so things were very crowded and not too pleasent. After one drink and 30 minutes, we moved on to the next place. We soon discovered that the only difference between this one and the first one was that the first one was popular. Disheartened we took a cab home. Once back in our neghiborhood we regained our drinking ambition and found a tourist oriented regge bar. There, to our surprise, we found three other NUS students at a table drinking. We pulled up with them ordered a few more pitchers and had a good time talking about thier native Sweeden, Canada, Singapore, and Malaysia.
The next day we all took a bus out to a cave that was also a hindu holy sight and filled with monkeys (yes, this one's for you Cameron), really. We took a few pictures (which I will send/post when I get a computer) and went back to town.
Since we had decided that we didn't want to do more shopping, there was only one thing left to do, eat. The day before we had found this place called the S&M food court and we decided to check it out. To our surprise it was clean and full of good food, we left happy. Johnny and Ryan went back to _____ square to find the indian guy and I went back to the hotel to write the last mass email. When they came back, we were off to the beach. Or so we thought...
The bus to Port Dickson was supposed to be at 6:30. We made our way down to the platform where we waited and waited in a poorly ventilated basement full of busses that passes for a bus station in this random third world country. Finaly at 7:15 a bus shoed up. There was a mad dash to get on and in the confusion, we didn't make it. The bus, already almost full when it arrived, left without us. We were told that there would be one final bus at 7:45 that we could get on. Not wanting to inhale more bus fumes that we had to, we went back to S&M food court and ate again. When we got back to the bus station at 7:45 everyone was still waiting, and waiting, until 8:15 when the second bus finaly showed up, but not in the bay it was supposed to, but rather two births over. There was a mad dash as weary travelers trying to make it home/to the beach fought their way onto the bus. Luckily this time there was enough room for everyone, although some unlucky people had to stand for the trip. As the bus started roling, I passed out.
Again with the unceremonious awakenings and we were in Port Dickson. Despite having eaten three times already that day, we decieded we should eat again. We went to the outdoor restaurant at the bus station and placed our order and waited, and waited... as we watched american wrestling on the tv we started to wonder what was happening, but we decided to wait more. 30 minutes after we placed our order we inquired about the status of our food. Unfourtunately the only one who spoke passable english, and the one who had taken our order in the first place, had left. Feelign pissed off, hungry, and mostly confused, we cought a cab to the area recomended for us and started looking for a hotel. The first two places we tried were closed for the night (it was by then rather past midnight) so when the third was open, we didn't care enough about the ants crawling on the wall to turn it down. We brought in our stuff, played cards, and drank some beer we had packed with us and went to sleep.
I was sleeping on the top bunk, and above me there was a hole in the cieling. It did not go all the way through the roof, but it was a hole above my bed. When we were checking in I complained to the manager that there was dirt on my sheet. He said that it must have come from the hole and he got me a new sheet. I thought the issue had been resolved... Unfourtunately it had not. At around 7am (which, if you know me, you must realise is the middle of the night) I awoke to the feelign of little tickles all over my body. I was shaked to consciousness when I realised they were ants, in the neighiborhood of 50 of them, having fallen from the hole in the ceiling, crawling all over me. I made futile attempts to kill them, then I realised that they had won. I got up, cleaned myself off, and bunked up with Ryan (who was in a double bed). Eventually, after I finaly got my mind enough off the ants... I fell asleep for another few hours.
We got up and went to the hotel's restaurant to have breakfast. I must say, if the ant experience were any less jarring, it would have made up for everything. Johnny and the hotel owner were both chinese so they got to talking and we got ourselves the best meal I had the entire time in malaysia. It was just claypot chicken and stirfry vegtables, but the were done so well...
After breakfast we bought some beer and headed for the beach. Until this point the whole islamic country thing hadn't really been an issue, but at the beach it was a real impediment. The beach we had gone to was almost entirely local and that meant that the women, the few that there were, were wearing headscarves and modest clothes. Talk about a downer. What is even the point of going to the beach? We sat, drank beer and played cards for a while before heading back to town to catch the bus to Singapore.
We got to the bus station at 6:08 to discover that the bus to the next town (who's name I have also not bothered to remember) had just left at 6:00. The next bus being at 8:30 combined with our desire to sleep in our own (sortof) beds that night lead us to charter a taxi for RM30 to take us on the same route. Like always, we passed out on the way. Again, we arrived at the station at 8:05 only to discover that we had just missed a bus at 8:00... So, after some looking we found one that would take us to JB at 8:30, so we bought our tickets and waited, and waited... at 9pm it showed up. We got on, and surprisingly didn't fall asleep. Maybe it was the nap we had just taken or maybe it was the aqua remixes being blasted by the bus driver on our business class bus but I stayed up reading The Economist by the light of my hand phone until the battery died.
When we arrived at the bus station in JB our luck finally changed; we just barely caught the bus to the border. Getting on this bus gave us all such a feeling of relief. This clean, air conditioned bus was taking us from the third world back into the first. We knew there would be no more busses that leave on time only when they are being missed, we knew there would be no more ants, we knew cleanlyness was job 2 (behind law and order), we knew we could again trust the food and water. We were home.
I start school tomorrow, and I will be getting a computer some time this week. I don't know if I should keep sending these long messages and I don't know if I will still have as many interesting things to say as I fall into a routine, but judging by the positive responce I have had so far I will keep sending more as circumstances warrent. Also, I have taken about 50 pictures so far on my digital camera and many of them go with much of what I have written in these messages (S&M food court, ants on the bed, monkeys, scotch in the club from the first email...) so I will send/post/find some way of conveying them as soon as I get a computer.
'Till the next one
Marc
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