A Catch-22 in the Urban Jungle

« Return to Malaysia

It’s a catch-22 and I’m caught. I find the most romantic places on earth, but tend to share them with middle-aged men like Mr. Khabir and Rama (hurry!) Of course, if I had that special someone to share them with, chances are I wouldn’t be able to find these places because I’d be at home cuddling and watching Six Feet Under on DVD. Point being, about 90 minutes outside Kuala Lumpur is a river in Kuala Selangor, where you can drift amongst thousands of fireflies. Picture this scene, because cameras are useless. The sky is clear and the stars are sparkling. A quarter moon is shining so bright it looks like a beam of light is channeled down to earth. A ring of clouds surrounds the moon, as they sometimes do. We get on a wooden boat, an old man is standing with crossed oars, and he gently rows us forward into the darkness. Suddenly, on the right bank, I see Christmas lights everywhere, in July. Orange or light green or yellow, they are strobing and blinking and glowing, reflecting on the black water, in perfect harmony with the twinkling stars.
“Mr Khabir, Rama,” I say, “I think you guys are great but I kinda wish you were beautiful single girls right now.”
“No offense Robin, but I wish the same,” says Mr Khabir. Rama (hurry!) informs us it is his birthday, and his wife is waiting at home, and he is already planning on bringing her here, because it is his first visit to the fireflies too. Adding to the amorous affair, I learn that the fire bugs glow as a form of sex call, the females three times a second, the male once every three seconds. As the raft quietly drifted up the river, I held my breath and felt God breathing down my neck. How beautiful a world we live in. Even when surrounded by fornicating bugs.

Back in KL, I visit the Sultan’s Palace, some mosques, churches and temples. We sneak into a landscaped garden (closed for repairs) to see the timid mouse deer, the smallest deer in the world. We pop by the ASEAN gardens, the war memorial, go shopping for rip-offs of every kind in Chinatown. Some schoolgirls get bashful when they recognize Rama from TV (he’s the Malaysian version of Mr. Bean), and I get bashful because he’s driving me around as if I’m someone important. I visit the massive Times Square complex to see Superman Returns, which, red underwear or not, has the coolest “look ma I’m flying!” scenes ever put to film. This led to a good half hour riding the glass elevator up and down on the outside of the Regent (I would have tied a sheet around my neck but this was a premier hotel). Later that night, I was more like Superschmuck, dancing to bad techno on the tables at a bar alongside a large shark tank. This courtesy of Modern Gonzo reader Nicole, who is traveling in Malaysia and arranged a rendezvous that involved too many drinks, three trashed Irish guys, an Australian doctor, Thai hookers, and upset German soccer fans.

Gonzo Tip: When bringing backpackers to your premier hotel bar, do not divulge your room number and wander off. Especially if the backpackers are Irish. Thanks for the drinks charged to my room you jammy bastards!

The night concludes at 8am, just in time to get picked up for the day’s activities. The 88-storey Petronas Towers are probably my favourite buildings on the planet, with their stainless steel shell and star-shape representing fourness in creation. Each building houses close to 10,000 office workers, but tourists can visit the sky bridge that link the twin towers (the third and fourth highest buildings in the world) on level 41, and Level 42 (the 80’s band notwithstanding). It’s free, but you have to line up and truthfully, you can save yourself the time and get a better view of the city at the nearby KL Tower. The towers are best enjoyed from the outside, where they stand straight out of the cover of a science fiction airport novel, even better at night when lit up like Roman candles. Inside are the offices of Petronas, the Malaysian state oil company, but you can find the executives at nearby hotels, making important calls using the phone in the toilet.

And now we’re off to Malacca, or Melaka (pronounced like the Greek swear word). It’s Malaysia’s cultural and historical center, having been an important shipping and trade portal for the Indians, the Chinese, the Arabs, the Portuguese, the Dutch, the British, the Malays, and lately the cruise ships. The old town has narrow roads and colorful houses that remind me of Brazil, as most have survived from the Portuguese occupation in 1600’s. Melaka also has its own unique culture, the Baba Nonyas, descendents from the offspring of the first Chinese influx and the local Malays. I grapple with a stingray at a BBQ, and tell Mr Khabir that a schedule of museums might just put me to sleep (in fact, just about anything would be put me to sleep at this stage). He checks the redness of my eyes the way he checks the redness under fish gills, and says he has just the ticket. This is how I came to play with snakes, macaws and leopard geckos, drink from a twice poisoned well, choose my personal effects for the Chinese afterlife, and visit the distinctly odd Museum of Beautiful People. I have long held a theory that somewhere in the world, there is a museum devoted to just about anything you can think of. Walking past the museum of kites, I mouth breathed in horror at an exhibition about the manner in which various cultures celebrate beauty. Particularly: lip plates; dental mutilation, scarification, labrets, corsets, neck elongation, skull deforming, bonded feet and tattoos (from the Tahitian word “tatau”, meaning “to puncture”). Across all the continents, it is quite unbelievable what people will do to look beautiful in their culture. From breaking the feet of Chinese girls to sharpening teeth to patterns of scars, it was fitting there was also a section about anorexia. Scholars in 1967 coined the phrase “Modern Primates” to describe a non-tribal person who responds to tribal urges to express themselves with their body. It has always been part of humanity, yet looking at photos of cut-up Ghanaian tribal women, or Burmese long necks, or Amazons with giant bowls in their lips, felt like I was looking at aliens. That’s when I noticed I have a rather large tattoo on my leg, making me, of course, a Modern Gonzo Primate.

Unbelievably, there’s more and it’s good, but it’s been a big week already and you probably have to get back to work. Next week: Cowboys, crocodiles, and Modern Gonzo enters China.

Hotel Puri
Malacca,

Gonzo Gallery for A Catch-22 in the Urban Jungle

view full gallery

Tweet