Note From Mitch: You may have noticed a drastic shift in my blogging from Hong Kong to Malaysia. Arriving in Malaysia and especially outside the relative safety of Kuala Lampur I realized that there were real issues that I had to concern myself with - as a Jew and an Israeli (though traveling on my Canadian passport) I saw several signs that made it clear to me that I did not have the freedom there that Might have enjoyed elsewhere. Every day the newspapers reported of bloggers being arrested and charged; members of minority groups (including their lawyers) were being arrested and charged with sedition and worse. I became very aware of the importance of watching everything that I said and especially what I transmitted, be it by phone, Messenger, e-mail, or blog. I began to keep a journal - a very well protected Word Document - which I will post here. It is divided into the order in which it was written, and a section break was added every time I began writing. This article is that journal as it was written in Malaysia.
I want to be clear that once I got my bearing - where it was safe to walk, who it would be alright to approach, and what shops and areas to avoid - I enjoyed Malaysia though I did not venture very far. I got to see a bit of Petaling Jaya, the city where I was staying, and got to see Kuala Lampur twice - once by night when a new friend took me around, and once by day - I left my hotel early on my last day and hired a taxi to show me around. The people that I met were nice and I hope to stay in touch with some of them. I hope that in the future the country does stabilize and addresses the issues that they are having because they hold a place of honour in the world's economy as an export economy. Perhaps one day I will return and feel safer.
Every word that I wrote in my journal was written in Malaysia - none of it has been edited or changed since I left. Here it is. -Mitch Garvis, Mumbai, December 17, 2007
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I am definitely not in Kansas anymore.
The tropical heat is not at the forefront of my consciousness, and the sweat that drips from my brow is unimportant. Because of my sheer ignorance I have wandered into a land that is not only strange, but potentially hostile to me.
I have removed any sign of religion from my person and checked my passport – I knew that it would not have any dangerous stamps but I double checked just to be sure. My name is not telling of my background, and no matter who or what I am talking to I am conscious of what I say, be it by e-mail, Messenger, or conversation – face to face or telephone.
My old training and instincts are back and hopefully not dulled because a stranger in a strange land has to be on his guard at all times. I am sure that if I were in the large metropolitan centre there would be no danger, but the headlines of the local newspaper this morning are awash with arrests of all manner of people – local and foreign – for seditious behaviour and other charges unheard of in the country of my birth. I have walked softly and unnoticed into the lion’s den… and have no way of escaping until Saturday.
My training tells me that every conversation, every word that I transmit can be monitored, and although I am hoping that I have flown in under the radar and that I am just being paranoid, still and all I will take all of the precautions that I know would keep me alive should that hope be incorrect. No matter who I speak to there will be no mention of religion, politics, war, or beliefs of any kind. There is no side to take until I am safely at the other end of this… saga? I do not know if that is the right term; ordeal perhaps, though I suspect that too would be incorrect as long as I continue on the narrow path of (perceived) safety.
The High Commission for Canadian in Kuala Lampur is not answering the phone today, though that is likely because I called too late. Once within the four walls of the training centre I was all business, and that business necessitated that I concentrate on the task at hand all day. I took 20 minutes for lunch – I had a salad at (of all places in Malaysia!) Kenny Roger’s Roasters. They are open tomorrow at 8am, and I will call at that hour to report my presence here. I doubt that they would be concerned – it is not because I am Canadian that I would be at risk. Nonetheless that is the passport with which I entered the country, and at this point I think it best that they know that I am here.
For the first time in a very long time I hope and pray that I am being melodramatic, that there is nothing to be concerned with, that I am making something of nothing. Because of my family – Theresa & Aaron, as well as the puppies – I have since leaving Canada counted the days until I return. For the moment I am counting for another reason and melodramatic or not perception is reality, and my spidey-senses are tingling.
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Thinking back to my arrival there are comparisons to be made of the train from the airports into town in both Hong Kong and Malaysia. Unfortunately from what I can tell that is where the comparison of public transportation seems to end.
Arriving at the station in KL I was dismayed to find out that I had to take another train to get to Petaling. Of course it only cost one ringgit, so I did not mind. The platform was not unlike that of any train station I have been on, but there were simply more people.
It was not air conditioned, but most countries would not spend that money. I stood on the platform, two carry-on bags and my suitcase, with people of all ethnicities who seemed to have in common only that they were all shorter than I am… the next tallest person in the station could not have been more than 5’8”.
The train arrived and people started cramming into the cars. It was a lost cause, and soon the doors closed, leaving still hundreds of people on the platform. A train came and went every ten minutes or so, and having noted where the first three trains’ doors were I finally positioned myself (luggage and all) to be right there for the fourth train, and used my size to ensure that I was getting onto this train, period. I did, and three stations later was deposited at the station in Petaling.
It should be noted for the record that I did not know until then that Petaling and Petaling Jaya are not exactly the same… and by the time I discovered this, and that the station at Petaling had no shelter from the rain, nor any taxis waiting to ferry me to my hotel, it was too late. Of course, if I had any local coins I could have called a taxi, but I doubt this would have been anything but a futile gesture as the only people who seem to understand anything but pidgin English are the people at the hotel and at the training centre.
Eventually (after forty-five minutes) the second taxi to pass came by… the first one sped off when I told him where I wanted to go, so this time I held what apparently is a substantial sum for a taxi ride in Malaysia in my hand as I asked him. Within half an hour – if you are counting it is three hours and change since I left the airport – I arrived at the Hilton PJ drenched, annoyed, tired, and hungry. Next time I am taking a cab.
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This morning I stepped out of the hotel into the tropical rain – it is monsoon season in this part of the world, and there are reports of flooding in other parts of the country. However in Petaling Jaya it is just extremely humid and as soon as I walked through the glass doors – I cannot help but think of them as the treeline – I started perspiring, despite being freshly showered and in clean clothes. Protocol dictates that I wear long pants any time that I represent Microsoft, and although in front of a class jeans would be forbidden today was a preparation day and I left the hotel in jeans and a light golf shirt. Tomorrow I will wear slacks and a company shirt, though it too will have short sleeves. I have three of them with me, and two of them are quite heavy. I will wear one of the heavy ones tomorrow because the forecast for Thursday is hotter.
Jeans may be comfortable but when sweating they get heavy quickly and I will be glad to be out of them tomorrow.
I asked the bellhop to get me a taxi, but when I told him where I was going he told me it would be quicker to walk. As today is a state holiday here (the sultan’s birthday) the route was practically deserted, and it gave me an opportunity to see where I was. Tomorrow I will likely not do the same.
Once inside the training centre I was safe; in fact inside the shopping centre (Info Teck is on the 3rd floor) I felt free to walk around, if not anonymously then as no more than a mild curiosity to the ethnically diverse shoppers and storekeepers. Malaysia is a blend of ethnicities, and my understanding is that the Chinese and the Malays do not particularly like one another. I feel safe among the former group, generally Buddhists I would think, but the latter group (the overwhelming majority) is Muslim. You can tell easily with the women – the Muslims wear modest dress and head scarves, while the others dress in more revealing clothing, not to be promiscuous but likely to combat the oppressive heat. We are closer to the equator than I think I have ever been (I have flown across it before) and even in December the temperatures do not fall much below 25C at night. Although there are a number of Muslims working in (and taking classes at) the centre, the staff do not appear to be – at least they are not overtly so.
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I took a taxi back to the hotel from the centre, and the driver was listening to what sounded like Hindi music. That group is also quite large here, but from the newspaper articles I have read they are likely an oppressed population; it is mainly people with names that to me sound Indian that are being charged with Sedition, and a group called HindRAF (Hindu Rights Action Force) seems to be public enemy number one here, and I suspect that I am safe with them… just not with large groups of them.
Back in my room I look up at the arrow on the ceiling that points to Kiblat… what I assume is either the Malay word for West or Mecca. Although it will likely exceed my per diem I will probably have dinner at one of the restaurants in the hotel, something I try not to do because of generally overly high prices. For the sake of not walking into further trouble I will happily pay the extra money. Maybe tomorrow (when the holiday has past) I will venture out, but in my experience holidays seem to be a popular time for problems in the street. I shall not suffer I am sure – there is a Japanese and a Cantonese restaurant downstairs, and I am sure one of them will have something that will appeal to me. There is also a lounge off the lobby with a walk-in humidor with what appeared to be a fine selection of cigars, and I might indulge in that, assuming they have a satisfactory list of scotches to go with it. First I will call home – just to let everyone know that I am okay.
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My class is easily the most diverse one I have ever taught, with IT professionals from Malaysia, Singapore, Indonesia, Viet Nam, Thailand, Nepal, and the Philippines, including Microsoft representatives from most of those places. Of course the local Microsoft TSP is here to connect with some of his Partners, but the field is truly international. The morning went smoothly, and I was in my ‘groove’. I have not yet figured out how to control the groove; I only know that when I am in it my classes go better.
We are off to a good start, though the centre representative did come in and ask me to have all of the attendees save their work before lunch because the electricians were coming back. No problem.
Interestingly the local MVP representative is in the audience, and it was comforting to see the familiar logo on his shirt. As well there are MCTs here, so I am in good company. At lunch I dined with an MCT from Singapore (C.Y.) and we had a very nice Japanese meal… it is hard to imagine getting anything nearly so good in Canada for the $7 it cost – and yet I had a very nice serving of grilled salmon, a bowl of garlic rice (yummy!), a bowl of miso soup, a cup of… it looked like custard, and CY explained it was an egg, and a piece of watermelon.
I am debating taking a trip – either tonight or tomorrow night – into Kuala Lampur. I would love to see the Petronas Towers – until recently the tallest buildings in the world. I don’t know if you saw the movie, but I am hoping that Catherine Zeta Jones is still there.
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The agent with whom I spoke at the Canadian High Commission did not think that I should be overly worried, but should be vigilant nonetheless. His assurance that the police and government do not usually bother us was… well, small comfort. He did say that as long as I was registered that they would alert me at my hotel should there be any unrest to be concerned with in the area – anywhere between Kuala Lampur and Petaling Jaya. If nothing else the conversation gave me an opportunity to have a conversation in French… and I am not sure when the last time I did that was.
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Did I mention that at Starbucks in Hong Kong an espresso cost about $35? Of course that is really about $6, but in either currency that is one very expensive cup of coffee. (No mother, I did NOT buy one, it was a curiosity thing.)
In comparison, and really it is not a fair comparison, there is a coffee machine in the training centre in Malaysia which sells a cup of coffee (Nescafe, but still coffee) for $.20 Ringgats, or about six cents Canadian. It is not a great cup of coffee, but it is right outside the door of my training room, and it is caffeine.
I suppose a closer comparison would have been the vending machine at the training centre in Hong Kong which sold cans of Nestle iced coffee for HKD$5, or about eighty cents. A better deal than Starbucks to be sure, but still about thirteen times the price of Malaysia :)
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I was excited about the cigar lounge in my hotel. I was planning to spend this evening there enjoying a cigar and a glass of scotch. They have a walk-in humidor whose back wall faces the lobby, and as I walked by yesterday I was drawn by many of the familiar boxes – Cohibas, Romeo y Juliettas, and Montecristo were all well represented.
As I walked in from work today I looked in and decided to walk in and check out the prices. They were competitive, or at least appeared to be. Unfortunately they were also counterfeit. There are a number of ways to tell on a familiar box, and I noticed several of the telltale signs. I am sure that they are still decent cigars, but when you pay for the real thing you want the real thing.
I walked out empty handed, and will go for dinner soon. One of the reps from Microsoft recommended a restaurant near the hotel, and I will give it a try. Tomorrow night he is going to take me into Kuala Lampur – first to the office because they are in the Petronas Towers (Or KLCC), and then for dinner. I am always happy to dine with colleagues, and tomorrow I will be able to do so with colleagues from Malaysia, Hanoi, and Nepal.
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Armed with the recommendations and assurances of a couple of local Microsoft employees I ventured out for dinner this evening to a restaurant called South Pacific. It was to be sure not what I had expected – it was little more than a hall in the corner of a building with the two outside walls missing, but that was part of its charm. Noel had suggested the grilled prawns and I took his advice. While waiting I got a plate of satay – essentially grilled meat on a stick, usually served with a thick spicy peanut sauce, and this differed in that it had obviously been marinated in the sauce but was not drowning in it.
As I have with every meal for nearly two weeks I ordered tea, but when my meal arrived I found it a tad on the spicy side, and wanted something cold to wash it down. My mate Bruce had mentioned that he ‘could picture me at a restaurant by the side of the road eating satay and drinking Tiger Beer…’ so I ordered exactly that. It was neither outstanding nor lousy, and I drank half of it not because I was displeased by it, but because I know precisely how beer affects my diet, which is back on track after a week of faltering.
Following the meal I realized I was nowhere near a taxi, but having been reassured that I was in a safe neighbourhood decided to walk back to the hotel, which would take me about 45 minutes. Petaling Jaya is a city different from any I have ever been in, a cross between Ramallah and Ras al Naqoura … and possibly Hong Kong if only because they drive on the left and there are a lot of Chinese here! I should also mention that walking around although there is no way for me to blend in I was viewed as a Britton or possibly Australian in town for a few days, wandering and snapping the occasional photo. The only ‘crowds’ I saw were in restaurants, a score of which could likely have been changed for South Pacific without missing a beat.
By the time I walked into the hotel I was tempted by the cigar bar, but only for a minute. I came up to my room, called Theresa, and answered some correspondences. Today went well but tomorrow is another day and I have to start all over; the manager of the training centre has invited me for lunch, and some of the Microsoft folks are going to take me for dinner in KL… their offices are in the famous Petronas Twin Towers which I have wanted to see if only because it is all I knew of Malaysia two weeks ago.
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I have now had two more Malaysian meals to compare. The manager of the training centre took me for aksam laksha – similar to a Vietnamese pho with a fish broth, clear noodles, and pieces of fish in it. It was quite spicy, and if I were more of a fan of fish broth I am sure I would have liked it more. Oh, did I mention the prawn paste that was the flavouring? I washed it down with a drink called chin chau, which is hard to describe to be generous. It wasn’t bad though, and I was assured it was made of all natural herbs.
Dinner was much better. There is a mall at the base of the Petronas Towers (KLCC as we in the know call them :)) and Noel took me for dinner in a fine Malaysian restaurant there. We shared a fruit plate and then a dish of shrimp and chicken dumplings. Then I had a dish that consisted of steamed rice, chicken in a mild curry sauce, and some vegetables; there was also a type of anchovy salad which I did not do well with. On the side there were pickled spicy vegetables with a peanut sauce (they love peanuts here... so do I!). Anchovies aside it was a great meal! I washed it down with fresh squeezed juice, a mixture of papaya, watermelon, and honeydew... I love juice!
No desert, I wanted to get back to the hotel to get an early night. I did get the chance to see Kuala Lampur, take some pictures, and of course I looked for Catherine Zeta Jones but she must have left early.
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I am not at the airport and feel much better for knowing that within the hour I will be leaving Malaysia. I enjoyed it, but am glad it is over.
Though my flight was not until 8pm I left the hotel at 2pm and headed for Kuala Lampur Sentral (the train station). I checked my bag in with Malaysia Airlines, and put one of my carry-on bags in a locker (which never made me feel too good). I bought a couple of souvenirs - replicas of the KLCC Twin Towers and such. I then hired a taxi to take me on a brief tour of Kuala Lampur. I got to see a lot of the sights I had seen during my evening foray with Noel, and felt that it was a beautiful city with some gorgeous landscapes.
Sitting in the airline lounge I am glad that I had the opportunity to end my trip on a high note. Having taken all of the precautions that I did take since arriving may have been overkill, but I am sure that Theresa and Aaron, not to mention parents, puppies, and friends are all glad that I am going to come home safe and sound. It turns out by the way that for rm18 (18 ringgets, the local currency) you can buy a venti latte and a muffin at Starbucks here... about $5.50. The carved marble figurines I purchased for friends and Aaron's teachers cost me about rm6 each. I honestly hope that more people buy the latter... they last longer.
It has been a stressful week, but it is over and I can breathe a sigh of relief... and head into my next new adventure, India.