Malaysia, Part I: The Seduction

Oh, Malaysia, you sweet, sly temptress. You invited me to relax on your pristine white-sand beaches; to swim in your crystal-clear waters; and to explore your lush tropical jungles. You invited, and I obliged. Oh yes ... I obliged. Malaysia, you had me at, "Hello"...

Tropical. Islam. Two words you don't often hear together. But that's what Malaysia is about. The stifling humidity, the never-ending waves of palm trees, the pounding rain that seems to come from nowhere: you could just as easily be in Florida, Tahiti, or Costa Rica. But the domed mosques, the black burkas, the daily prayer calls: there's no mistaking the central role that Allah plays in all of this. Welcome to Malaysia.

My introduction to the country began as it does for many travellers, in Kuala Lumpur. As the capital city, it is like most other large Southeast Asian capitals: crowded and noisy. But to describe it in only these terms would be to unfairly sell it short. It's an incredibly diverse city - while Islam is the dominant presence, there are significant Indian and Chinese minorities. (Most budget travellers find themselves in Chinatown, which is, to be polite, a shithole.) It also has a touch of modernity that many Southeast Asian locales don't as well as an efficiency that is seemingly incomprehensible to its neighbors farther north. To wit, the city has not one but two reliable public transportation systems: an elevated train/subway that was easy to navigate and a monorail that quickly cuts through the city from end to end and goes all the way to the airport (which, for some unknown reason, is 70 km from the city center). And nothing is more indicative of Kuala Lumpur's efforts to bring itself into the 21st century like the city's pride and joy, the Petronas Towers. Previously the tallest building(s) in the world (until Taiwan came along and built something taller in 2004, spoiling all the fun), these towers are home to the government-run petroleum company. Sleek and tall, a graceful marriage of glass and steel, they loom large over the city. And just to show off how much money runs through this building complex, the lower levels of the lobby include a shopping mall with all the designer names you'd find on Rodeo Drive. Yet someone decided that having the second tallest building(s) in the world wasn't enough, so they went on to build - approximately 300 yards down the road - a communications tower called the Menara KL Tower that dwarfs the Petronas Towers in height. (Apparently, the people keeping track of "Tallest [fill in the blank]" make separate categories for buildings and for other man made objects, like communications towers. Who knew?) The Menara KL Tower sits at 421 meters high, making it the fourth tallest man made structure in the world, behind communications towers in Canada, China, and Russia. I don't remember exactly how high up the observation tower is, so let's just call it "way the hell up there." From the observation deck, everything looks like ants. On a clear day, visibility extends well beyond 25 miles. And what do you do when you're an oil-exporting country with too much money pumping into both of these tall structures? If you answered something like "spread the wealth among your impoverished populace," then you need a reality check. What you do is light up these buildings every night like they're Christmas trees. Makes for a wonderful city nightscape, which I quietly enjoyed while sipping a delightful after-dinner Coke (not beer, because it's a Muslim country and alcohol, while available, is ridiculously expensive).

Even though I really only came to Kuala Lumpur to visit these two architectural marvels, once I was here I just started exploring the city on foot and found lots of things worthy of visiting. I came across this mosque almost by accident, but it happens to be historically and culturally significant because I think it's the oldest still-standing mosque in Kuala Lumpur. Despite what you might think of Islam and some of its followers, I think there is little denying that much of the art and architecture in the Muslim world is quite splendid. The domed ceilings, the ornate archways, and the color schemes make for some interesting viewing (and a welcome break after seven weeks of seeing nothing but temples and pagodas). I tried to go in the mosque and explore the interior sections but I happened to be there during prayer hours so I could get no farther than the outside gate. The gatekeeper, who I later learned lives at the mosque and studies there, began engaging in a friendly conversation with me about what he assumed was my interest in Islam. I had to bite my tongue before I said, "What interest?" Anyway, after a few minutes it became apparent that this was his "soft sell" to try to get me to convert. He wasn't agressive or militant; he was just doing his best to spread the faith. Well, good luck pal. While he was going on about the virtues of Islam I was thinking, "I wonder how differently this conversation would be going if he knew I was American and Jewish?" Next to the word "futile" in the dictionary should be nothing more than a picture of the two of us with this guy is trying to convert me. Better luck with the next tourist, buddy.

After visiting this first mosque, I figured it was worth it to visit the National Mosque of Malaysia. I'm not sure why I was surprised, but they actually let tourists into this place. The only caveat is that you have to be dressed "appropriately" to enter, which I was not - my t-shirt and shorts didn't pass muster. (Add this to the long list of times I've been kept from entering a building/bar/nightclub based on my substandard wardrobe.) They outfitted me with this lovely robe so I could go in. The mosque can hold up to 14,000 people for prayer and the main sanctuary is right over my shoulder. (The sanctuary is off-limits to non-Muslims, so that's as far as I could get.) The people were very friendly and, once again, began handing me brochures about Islam and encouraged me to learn more about the religion. Here's an A.P.B. to the good people of Malaysia: you won't convert me. Don't waste your time.

There's a good deal more to see in Kuala Lumpur - some historical buildings, a lovely botanical garden, etc. - and I'm glad I toured most of them during my two days there. But my one night staying in a crappy hostel was all the motivation I needed to get a move on. (This was actually the first true hostel I lived in during my trip, and once this trip is done, never again. My room was basically the size of a prison cell; the whole place smelled; the common bathroom was as you'd expect it to be; and you could hear everyone's business all night long.) So where does one go after a night like that? The Perhentian Islands, a sublimely perfect beach locale spread over two tropical islands in northeastern Malaysia. An acquaintance described this place as one of the better beach spots in Southeast Asia. Not only would I agree with that, I'd go farther - this place ranks high on my all-time list of best beaches. The Perhentian Islands are just south of the Malay-Thai border on the east coast of the country. An hour flight from Kuala Lumpur to a city called Kota Bharu, an hour drive to the port town of Kuala Besut, and a 30 minute speedboat to the islands are the three steps along the path to beach nirvana. These two islands - called, quite descriptively, Big Island and Small Island - are tiny. By speedboat you can probably circle them in 10 minutes. Each island is roughly oval shaped and has about three or four separate small beaches on its circumference. Most of the backpackers stay on Small Island, ergo I chose to stay at a "resort" on the Big Island. "Resort" is a loose term here - think along the lines of a few wooden bungalows on the beach with a small outdoor restaurant. Not that I'm complaining. The place I stayed - Flora Bay Resort - was divine. I was told by a guy who organizes scuba dives on the islands that the resort was located on the best beach of all of them, and it's not hard to imagine why. Located on a bay on the south side of the island, the white sand is so fine it feels like baking powder and so sun-bleached it's almost painful to look at it. The water is clear to the point of being eerie. The weather, finally, was cooperative, so I got several days of never-ending sun at just the right temperature: hot, but not sweltering. Cars don't exists on the islands since there are no roads, so quiet is the name of the game. In fact, there is nothing on the island beyond the beaches except jungle. Looking towards the island from the water, the sequence goes like this: water, beach, bungalow, jungle. And the best part - which I had no hand in - was that I came during the lowest point in the tourist season (just before the monsoons start to roll in), so there were about 15 tourists on the entire beach. (I think capacity during the high season is about 500 people.) There were stretches of hours when I saw no one and heard nothing but the gentle crash of the waves. Truly awesome. In fact, my only interaction with someone on the beach itself was as follows: there was one point where I had been lying out, half-asleep, for about an hour. I was face down in the sand, no towel or belongings with me - after coming out of the water I just did a big ol' belly flop on the shoreline and checked out of reality for a while. (That's my standard beach m.o.) Then, this middle-aged British guy comes up to me and the following conversation took place:

Nice British Guy [pressing on my shoulder]: "Hey, are you ok?"
Me [dazed and groggy, coming out of my slumbers]: "Huh?"
NBG: "Are you ok? Do you need help?"
Me [confused, lethargic]: "Huh?"
NBG: "Are you hurt? Do you need a doctor? I passed by you about an hour ago and you were in the exact some position, face-down in the sand. You haven't moved an inch. You have sand all over your face. You have no belongings, no towel. I thought maybe you had a seizure or heart attack or something."
Me: "Oh no, I'm fine, thanks. This is how I beach."
NBG [bewildered; probably thinking how bizarre Americans are]: "Ok then. Very well. See you around."

Nice guy. Never saw him again.

After lazing on the beach for a few days, it was time to explore the ocean. Scuba and snorkeling are big here. Being the wimp that I am, I stick with snorkeling. You don't need to get in a boat and be whisked away to some remote spot in the middle of the ocean because everything that's worth seeing can be reached just by swimming from the beach. My favorite was Shark Point, and indeed I saw several sharks. They're not particularly big - black tip sharks range from two to four feet in length - but scary enough to see when you're in the open water all alone. The coral was interesting but nothing special while the variety of the fish was impressive. Overall, good but not great. Can't win 'em all

I could have stayed for weeks at this beach, for months even. This is one of the things for which I had been searching. A paradise all my own (almost), a place that felt like mine, a place that felt right. But then -- the death blow of all solitary travellers: I finished my reading material. Spy novel - done. Murder mystery novel - done. When you run out of reading material, and there's no tv, no radio, no internet, and basically no one who speaks your language (other than Nice British Guy, who I saw only once), you start to get a little antsy. At first, it was ok. I'll admit, I sometimes talk to myself, and I'm an interesting enough person that even I can entertain my own brain for a while. But then the hours drag on, and as often happens when I'm out of things to think about, I start making Top 5 lists. Nothing out of the ordinary - Top 5 burgers I've eaten in California; Top 5 roads I've driven on in America; Top 5 action movies. And when I get to something like the last one, I start subdividing because there's too many to choose from. So I'll go with Top 5 action movies where the villain/enemy/bad guy isn't human. That let's me toss out "Die Hard," "Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid," and "Die Hard." So too go "Braveheart" and "Heat." Now I can start making some progress. First to mind is "Predator" - great action movie. No love story, no character development or arc, and - let's be honest - no real plot. Just Arnold Schwarzenegger, Jesse Ventura, Carl Weathers, and a few other guys on steroids chasing an alien through the jungle. Next to mind is "Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan." William Shatner doing his thing and any movie with Ricardo Montalban is worth watching. But then I'm thinking, is it really an 'action' movie? There's no prolonged gun fight or hand-to-hand combat or car chase (although there is a short 'spaceship chase' at the end of the movie through the 'Mutara' nebula. I'm such a dork for knowing that). So then I start thinking, "well, what makes something an 'action' movie?," and I begin making a list of criteria. Anyway, this has gone on long enough - you get the idea. When I get to the point where I try to define what an action movie is in order to pass the time, it's time to leave so I can have some legit human interaction. And so I did after a lovely few days...

I figured that a nice contrast to lazing on a great beach for several days would be roughing it in the heart of the Malaysian jungle, so that's what I did. After a full-day drive through the Malaysia back-country, I arrived at Taman Negara national park. It's located right smack in the middle of peninsular Malaysia, covering about 4,000 square kilometers. The town that serves as the base camp for hikers is called Kuala Tahan. Despite its being the gateway to this popular national forest, it's a small scruffy town with no real infrastructure. There's one mini-mart, no banks or ATMs, and most of the restaurants are on river barges. And there are roosters everywhere, roaming wild and free and making noises at all hours of the day and night. Roosters, why do you squack at 3am? WHY?! You're on notice, roosters: I hate you all.

Malaysia claims that Taman Negara is the oldest rainforest in the world, although I have no idea how such things can be measured. Oldest or not, it's beautiful and worth at least two full days of hiking and exploring. There's a 50km loop that takes at least two days to hike (i.e., it requires that you sleep in the jungle) and I thought, "Yeah, I can do this. I'm in good shape, and a few insects near my sleeping bag won't bother me." But the jungle, upon hearing my thoughts, said "Are you kidding me?! I'm going to beat you down, chew you up, spit you out, and then for good measure, take you out back to the woodshed and beat you again, just for kicks." And it did. I woke up early the first day to begin my hike, but after about 3 miles, I knew that I was in trouble. It isn't so much that the hiking is incredibly tough, because for the most part, it's not. The trails are clear - if not altogether even - and the highest rise in elevation is a 'mere' 2000 foot hill (which I climbed, barely... More on this in a second.) You don't have to make your own path, machete in one hand and flashlight in the other. And no compass is needed, at least on the short hikes. The real killer: the heat and humidity. The air just sits still on the jungle floor and it's so thick it's almost palpable. I know I've droned on before about the weather in these parts, but this took it to a new level. I swear, the sweat coming off me felt like (and may have looked like) this:



So instead of a major multi-day hike, I had to break my time into two day-long hikes. Fortunately, most other people I met felt the same way and had the same experience, so I wasn't alone in my wussiness. In fact, when you come back to town, you see a parade of hikers coming in for the night, all of whom looked beaten, tired, sore, exhausted, and utterly defeated. The jungle is universally unkind. (Plus, there's the added bonus of a shower, air conditioning, and a real dinner.) The most brutal part of my day hikes was a climb up to the 2000 foot high hill called Bukit Temeresk. For those who don't hike often, 2000 feet is not really a major climb. But this climb was epic. It was one of the most physically humbling experiences in my life that I can recall, particularly since I fancy myself something of a decent climber. The first 1000 feet or so were tough but doable. The second thousand required a rope to make my way up. It was so intense that I couldn't go more than one minute without stopping. So for about an hour and a half, it was climbing for a minute, then pausing for a minute. I was sucking air like oxygen was going out of style. I wanted to turn back so badly, but I was determined to make it to the top. Why? Because that little voice inside me said I could do it? No, it was nothing so courageous. The previous day, I chatted with two Russian girls who made their way up this hill; they were, to say the least, "big boned." So all I kept thinking as I made my way up was, "If those fat-asses can do, so can I." Mean? Yes. But effective. I made it.

Two days of exploring the jungle, while rough on my lungs, legs, and feet, was worth it. I didn't see many animals during my hikes - a few flying squirrels and some birds - but I did hear all sorts of monkeys, bats, foxes, and insects sing and hum and bark. One of the few "touristy" things they have in this park is a canopy walk - a series of 20 meter wooden planks suspended by rope from the tops of the trees stretching for 600 meters. Unlike the canopy walk I did in Singapore, which was anchored in concrete and made of steel beams, this was beyond wobbly. "Don't look down, don't look down, don't look down..." The view, while intersting, is not terribly impressive - you just end up staring at tree leaves from a closer perspective.

Since I didn't see many animals during the day, I opted to take a night safari in the back of a 4WD jeep. The jeep took five of us around a path in the jungle for two hours at night with a guide sitting on the roof holding a high-beam flashlight pointing out animals in the dark. There are not many big animals in the jungle but it's full of leopard cats, foxes, owls, snakes, birds, all of which we saw. The 10 foot long python was busy swallowing something so we just sat there for a few minutes and watched it slide down its throat. Pretty damn cool. There was one hitch to this ride, however: the rain. Just as we took off for the jungle at 9pm, the rain began pouring down like nothing I have ever experienced. One minute it was clear, the next minute it was like we drove under Niagara Falls. It was so intense that we had to pull over and seek shelter. You know you're in trouble when, in the middle of a rainforest, the guide says, "Too much rain." So there we are, waiting for the rain to clear. And then, after 20 minutes, it passed. So it goes.

That's the first part of Malaysia for me: city, beach, jungle. That cycle will be repeated again at least once more, so stay tuned...