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Our Adventures with: the Non-Fighting Irish

Tuesday, February 28, 2012

One of the very best things about traveling is all the people you meet. Sometimes you meet fantastic people, with whom you click instantly, and have a great time with them, no matter what crazy (and possibly shitty) things befall your expedition. This Irish couple whom we met, who I’ll call Ron and Kelly, were definitely in this category of people. We got a bit of Irish education from them, while getting steadily hammered during a drinking game at the hostel (the best way to learn history, in my opinion). Both Ron and Kelly are from Northern Ireland, but they explained that people there would view Ron as being British, while Kelly is usually viewed as true Irish by all except the most militant. Not even 20 years ago, Ron and Kelly wouldn’t have been able to date, due to the political tension. Of course, things have calmed down considerably in N. Ireland since the 90′s. A minority of people still feel really heated about either Unionship or Irish Independence, but they said that for the most part, most people their age don’t really care one way or the other. Also, they were quite amused by the existence of the Irish Car Bomb drink.

Part 1: The Reggae Rat House
We found out that we were all going to be in KL for a night, so we made plans to meet up again there, somewhere in the Chinatown district. Twinkles and I did our fishing trip, I rolled my ankle, and then we flew back to KL. By the time the flight was done, I was limping – I hadn’t realized it, but I’d also gotten a nice gash on the underside of my toe as a souvenir. I am very insensible to pain (and taking proper care of my body) so I just decided to ignore it and go ahead to Chinatown.

Traveler’s note: Asking for directions in a Chinatown, or any other place predominantly peopled by Chinese, is sometimes a bit of a challenge because their cultural instinct is to want to help you, regardless of whether or not they actually know the answer. So people will just tell you anything at all, well, anything besides “I’m sorry, I don’t know!” We kept asking for directions and being told to go straight, and then stopping and asking for more directions and being told to go straight but in the opposite direction. All of this was communicated with total certainty, and completely incorrect. We ended up having to take a taxi for a distance we could have easily walked.

We eventually met up with Ron and Kelly, and had a few drinks at a place called “Reggae Bar.” Reggae Bar is also part of a series of “Reggae” named establishments – they run a hostel, some higher end guest houses, etc. It’s the cheapest place in KL, a predominantly Muslim city, to get drinks. We sat around outside, drinking, having a good time, and Ron mentioned that usually they have pretty dire luck with places that have “Reggae” in the name. “But this place is actually quite nice,” he said. Cue soundtrack of foreboding.

I looked around and noticed that a few of the customers were smoking shisha (what many call “hookah,” or “narghile” if you’re in Lebanon). Feeling wistful for that first night in KL, I asked if they would be interested in getting a shisha. “Sure!” We ordered one and were smoking it, but it wasn’t quite as smooth and nice as the first night. Still, it was fine, right up until a drunk girl tottered out of the bar and crashed directly into the shisha, dumping the coals ALL OVER Twinkles’ lap. Twinkles was wearing shorts at the time, too, so it was directly on her bare skin. We were in shock, trying to get the coals off her, and I had to tell a waiter, who was busy trying to sweep the coals off the ground, to please get some ice because hello? My friend just got burned?

The drunk girl was far too trashed to apologize, but there was no such excuse for the others in her party, none of whom came over to say sorry. There was a guy over there, standing around like a dope, on his cell phone. Ron – remember, he’s Irish – was fuming, pondering going over there and socking the guy in the face. This other Irish couple (we ran into a lot of Irish while traveling through Malaysia, oddly enough) at another table said “it’s not worth it, don’t do it” and Ron was able to calm down and think rationally. Another travel tip: Starting fights can get you jail time in Malaysia.

We were still in shock and recovering from what had just happened, and the sheer rudeness of the girl and her party, when the manager came out and announced that the patio area was closed, and we had to move inside. Annoyed, I asked a worker to move the shisha that, you know, had just injured Twinkles. We got inside, where there was loud music and lots of people trying to dance, and I was nervous about the shisha tipping over again. We all had maybe one more puff of shisha each, before the manager comes out again and told us to go. “Bar closed! Finish your drinks and get out.”

Credit to "cidaq" at deviant art for such a nicely seedy picture.

What the fuck. (Or as the Irish say, “feck.”) We argued with the manager, trying to get our money back. “Who sells shisha ten minutes before closing time?” Twinkles even tried to get sympathy from the workers about her legs being ON FIRE and all, but they just…laughed at her. One of the workers seemed to feel a bit bad, but everyone else just glared at us like we were the troublemakers, and not, you know, one of the dickheads going around dumping coals on people’s laps and all. As we exited, still arguing, there were about twenty thuggish looking dudes who just stared us down. One big dude sang along with Bob Marley in the background, “NO WOMAN NO CRY,” staring directly at Twinkles as he did.

Twinkles, oddly enough, was very calm and collected about just having been scorched and treated as subhuman by just about everybody for the last ten minutes. Then she looked down and squealed, “Ohmygod I just saw a rat, we need to get out of here.” A big fat grey specimen was darting into the establishment. It was probably the nicest creature there.

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Langkawi: a beach bum’s paradise

Monday, February 27, 2012

The sun setting on heaven.


There are two types of vacations you can take in Southeast Asia: a challenging, spiritually / physically enriching holiday, which can involve slumming it in very third world hovels with no running water. Or it can involve trekking in jungles full of leeches and very scary parasites, with also no running water but that of the pounding tropical rainstorms that happen daily. I have mad respect for my friends and those who go seek out these types of challenges, but I have to admit that I am somewhat of a wimp and state my preference for the other type, the kind of holiday that involves rest and relaxation on a gorgeous beach. Preferably sipping something alcoholic out of a coconut. Actually, I think the best vacation involves a little bit of column A and B: sweetness punctuated by spice here and there. Too much R&R can get boring, whereas too much jungle trekking / slumming can get stressful and make you question if you’re actually on vacation!

Langkawi is solidly in column B. My time there was very reminiscent of my time in the Philippines, though with slightly less dramatically gorgeous scenery (through no fault of its own; it is hard business competing with places like El Nido and Coron). The water was warm, the sand soft and white, the people leathery and tan from the golden sun. I got some great snorkeling time:

Obligatory "finding Nemo" reference.



Stalking pretty fish with this fancy underwater camera.


Almost forgot to mention that there were sharks in these waters. Quite a lot of them. The people were feeding them. Sharks!


This photo's wonky perspective makes me look like I have some kind of monster elephantiasis of the left hand and the squattest torso ever. The fish looks about the right size, though.

Even though the snorkeling and the beaches were pretty great, I’d have to say that the best part of our stay in Langkawi was the hostel, Zackry’s Guesthouse. The owner, who I guess is Zackry, is a man of few words and straight to the point – “here’s your key, free umbrellas and mats here, check out at noon,” was all he ever said to me. But the social glue of the hostel is the bartender, a guy named Sam, who is a Malay of Maori ancestry who lived in Norway for several years and is fluent in Malay, Norwegian, Russian, and of course, English. Get all that? Sam has created an atmosphere at the hostel that is very convivial and social, no matter the current makeup of guests. Every night, the guests hang out in the common room and chit chat, share travel experiences, play cards, and go off to the one bar nearby for extra drinking. Sam brings the guests together, sometimes deftly: “we’ll all play cards here together around 10, okay?” and sometimes a little less smoothly: “hey, you Irish? They’re also Irish!” I think it also helps the mood that beer there is the cheapest in all of Malaysia; 3 ringits ($1 USD) for a can of Chang beer. (Malaysia is a predominantly Muslim country, so it’s hard finding good watering holes). Sam deserves mad props for helping run one of the most fun hostels I’ve ever stayed at.

Twinkles and I went on a fishing trip with Sam and a few other guests at the hostel. I’d never been fishing before in my life, but on that outing I caught 11 fish! (well, nine, really, if you discount the two that were roughly the same size as the bait I’d used).
When we were done fishing, we landed at a beach while the captain and workers grilled the fish we had caught. Being lazy, the rest of us swam around and laid out on the sand. I can now finally declare myself a swimmer, thanks to Twinkles’ assistance. Eli had worked with me on floating during the Philippines trip, so I tried to remember how to do that again this time. Then I got the courage to move my arms and legs while floating, and suddenly I was doing something like the backstroke. A real swimming move, not used by dogs! I’m still no Michael Phelps or anything, but that’s one more thing I can check off the list of Things I Need to Learn. Along with fishing, I suppose.

The fish was simply prepared – gutted, put on a stick and grilled over an open flame. They hadn’t added any seasoning at all, it was all the work of Mother Nature: ocean salt, whale piss, and what-have-you. It was really flavorful and took on extra richness from the smoke.

Grilling the fish, old school.


Almost meal time! Yes, that'll be our Captain No Pants in the background.


We swam for a bit more, and then got back on the boat. I slipped on the way, rolled my ankle and elegantly “turtled,” ending up on my back, with everyone around me all concerned, but I refused treatment because I could still move my ankle and thought I felt fine. Later, on the plane back to Kuala Lumpur, I happened to look down and saw that a big ol’ ostrich egg was slowly crowning from my ankle. Yikes!

Next post: the return to Kuala Lumpur and the Reggae Rat House.

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Malaysia: my new favorite country

Monday, February 27, 2012

I’m going to try something new, and this time I will actually blog about a trip (instead of, you know, blogging about the fact that I totally plan to blog later and then end up never doing it).

As you might surmise from the title, I really, really, really enjoyed Malaysia. Out of all the countries I’ve been to thus far, Malaysia has been the most diverse. I’ve been to places with lots of diversity and all, but none with quite such a successful melting pot like that of Malaysia – Chinese, Indian, ethnic Malay, Thai, all living, working, and eating side by side. The mix is apparent in the food itself, which has influences from those four types of cuisines and more. Throw in all sorts of other nationalities converging on Malaysia for business reasons, and you’ve got this chaotic – yet surprisingly peaceful – mix.

I traveled there with my friend Twinkles, another foreign teacher in my area. We call her Twinkles because she is always wearing heels and is twinkle-toed, lagging behind the rest of us on expeditions. She’d never been in a hostel before, always having stayed at hotels, and she’d also never been to another country besides Korea. Twinkles turned out to be a great travel buddy, always up for new things even if they were a bit uncomfortable. She also always asked for directions, which is something I am reluctant to do. (It’s not just a stereotypical dude thing! Us ladies can also be dude-headed and overly confident in our meagre navigation skills). Since she has kept up so well on this trip, we’ll maybe have to reconsider “Twinkles” and rechristen her “Sprinty” or “Explorer Woman” or something.

Our itinerary: we had only a week or so, which we spent in Peninsular Malaysia. We stayed in Kuala Lumpur for a night, then boarded a plane to Langkawi to soak up some beach time. Then it was back to KL, and we made a very quick jaunt down to Melaka to look at some historic buildings before jetting back up to KL.

An idiot's guide to the places me and my friends visited.


The very best little eat street in Kuala Lumpur.

I arrived in KL on the afternoon of the 18th, whereas Twinkles was set to arrive much later in the evening. By coincidence, I happened to be on the same flight as four of my friends, who were going off to different places – Mei and the Mountain Man were off to hike for 10 days in the jungles of Borneo (!), fighting off leeches and worse, while Arnie and Bex were staying a night in KL before heading off to the Perhentian Islands, another popular beach locale. I tagged along as a third wheel for Arnie and Bex as we made our first venture to what may well be my favorite little street in the whole wide world, Jalan Alor: a little strip packed with restaurants and food stalls in the neighborhood of Bukit Bintang.

There, we had my favorite meal of the trip, deep fried salt and pepper prawns, and crab in a black pepper sauce that was so good I actually moaned, something I never do on principle because it’s just too cheesy. (Later, Twinkles and I were hanging out with an Irish couple, and I took them back to this place to have the exact same meal again, and it was just as good the second time. The Irish guy declared that it was the nicest seafood he’d ever had. Go me and my food instincts!)

I'm a bad blogger and didn't think to photograph the meal until after we'd mostly devoured it. It was a messy affair but so. good.


Smoking out of a pineapple! This was a first for me.

Afterwards we found a nice little hookah place and hung out there for hours, smoking some really nice shisha and just chilling out. Usually I can’t do shisha for more than half an hour without my lungs burning out, but they’d prepared it nicely so it was smooth, and so relaxing. This was a great introduction to Malaysia!

Before this trip, I’d heard from a number of friends, who had traveled to Malaysia and loved the rest of the country, to “get out of KL as soon as possible.” Even Adventurous Kate seemed to dislike the city, so I’d had some trepidations. All those were erased that first night. I love Kuala Lumpur, even though on the face of it, it doesn’t seem like it would be my kind of city. I’m not at all into shopping malls and towers, which comprise most of the official tourist attractions. In fact, those were my least favorite parts of KL. The times I fell in love with the city were times when we were exploring different neighborhoods and either 1) eating something delicious or 2) happening upon something completely strange. It’s a great place to wander. We had some fantastic experiences in KL, and unfortunately some lousy things also happened to us, but more elaboration on that later. Overall, I can see why KL might rub some travelers the wrong way, but I can also see myself living and thriving in that electric, vibrant city someday.

General notes on travel: I knew next to nothing about Malaysia before arriving, planning to just kind of make it up as I went along. For the most part, that worked just fine. I maybe could have saved a bit more money, had I known that bus transport is easy and cheap in KL. Taxis are actually more expensive than what I’m accustomed to in Korea, and after a certain time, even the metered taxis turn off their meters and you have to negotiate a fee before getting into the car. The monorail also works, although it broke down on me once and I had to wait for two hours. That led to one of the best experiences in my life, however, which I’ll blog about later. (Promise!)

In general, Malaysia is a lot more expensive than other places in Southeast Asia. It’s considered the economic hub of SE Asia, and therefore you’ll run into a lot of people on oil and gas business, as well as some more shady enterprises (again, more on this subject later). I had managed to budget very severely while traveling through the Philippines, but with Malaysia I was a little more relaxed in spending. In total, including airfare, I spent about $1300 USD for a trip that lasted seven days, which is waaaay more than I was hoping to spend (especially since I’d done so splendidly in the Philippines!) but I don’t really regret much. It was my vacation, after all.

One thing I do regret, however, is neglecting to put sunscreen on my head. Or wearing some sort of hat. I’d planned on getting a hat in Malaysia, but never came across any I liked well enough to own. Now I am picking big sheets of dandruff out of my hair. Lovely visual, eh? Word to the wise, travelers: put on more sunscreen!

Next post: Langkawi!

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What I’m doing

Friday, February 17, 2012

* writing angry feminist rants on Facebook and my blog about this birth control brouhaha.

* packing for Malaysia, which is happening tomorrow (oh god where did the time go?) Thus far I have twenty skirts and no underwear in my backpack. I should probably rectify this.

* jogging – ! – every day this week! I know, I can hardly believe it too. We’ll see if I keep this up when I get back from my Malay vacay, where I fully intend to stuff my face with food and lay on the beach all day.

* saying goodbye to the teachers, including the Dog Lady. Update on that: when I got back, she told me, “I’m afraid I can’t give you the dog because he is too dirty.” Apparently, he has fleas. Phew!

Today I gave her a dog mug and some doggie treats as a going away present. She thanked me and said I should come visit her at her new school sometime, which is nearer to her hometown. “By that time, the dog will be clean, and then I will give to you.” D’oh.

* pinning pretty things on Pinterest. For hours, to the detriment of everything else I need to be doing right now. If you’re on it, add me!

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