December 5, 2007
"But I'm not going to Uzbekistan," I said, in Delhi's international airport as a woman from airport security handed me the wrong carry-on luggage tag.
She shrugged and told me it didn't matter.
And it didn't matter. The airport was so chaotic, so poorly designed and so incompetently staffed that nobody cared. I slept for all but a few minutes of the flight and woke in Malaysia--thankful for many things, but in particular that I had my carry-on bag.
The city of Kuala Lumpur, KL, is big, modern and Western. Traffic is orderly, confined to lanes and almost never honks. People are cosmopolitan, polite and helpful. The city mixes Malay, Indian and Chinese cultures, and is chockful of American chain stores. While nominally Muslim, the massive shopping malls have the biggest Christmas trees I've ever seen. In the local language, Malay, Kuala Lumpur literally means "muddy confluence".
The last several days have been in this mix. We've toured the city: to the tallest building in the world, the twin towers of Petronas; to the biggest aquarium in the world; to the largest walk-in free-flight aviary in world, to a massive butterfly park; to huge shopping malls; to big bookstores; to restaurants; and so on. And, we took pictures:
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| KL |
Restlessly, we are now off to the Tamen Negara, which yes, means "national park" in Malay. After not hiking or camping for two months, we're going to soak ourselves in both over the next two weeks. And since it's the season for the northeast monsoon, soak may be the appropriate word. Or maybe, the word should be muddy.
