Thursday, August 6, 2015

No, she is not my girlfriend

Some of you may be aware that I chose to forgo a career enhancing internship opportunity this summer in favor of a less practical option, traveling to Kuala Lampur and Bali. Well, two weeks and one iPhone 5S later (more on that later), I can honestly say that I made the right choice.

I don't come from a "vacation family." The Robertsons are not known for jetting off to the Caribbean, or hitting the slopes in Colorado. No, our vacations consisted mostly of 13 hour drives to Canandaigua, NY to visit family and swim in gramma's pool or heading an hour north to Smith Mountain Lake in Virginia, and I'm honestly OK with that. I never felt like I was missing out on anything. Plus, I can't stand the ocean.

Pop quiz:

  1. Which body of water will make you vomit if you swallow so much as a mouthful of it?
  2. Which body of water contains multitudes of animals that could either kill or maim you? 
  3. Which body of water promises to fill every crevice of your being with sand for the rest of time?

The answer to all these questions is the ocean. Take me to a lake any day.

We had originally hoped to have a four person party on this trip, but two people had to drop out, leaving just my friend Natalia and I. This proved to be a running problem for us during this trip, as every taxi driver, hotel clerk and stranger on the street was absolutely convinced we were a couple. I became quite used to creating awkward situations with the phrase, "No, she is not my girlfriend."

The trip began July 10 with our flight to Kuala Lampur, Malaysia (I've chosen to skip the ticket buying process, because I don't have enough electronic ink to describe how stressful it is to buy tickets through Chinese websites). Nothing interesting to report other than how strange it feels to go to a country where you do not speak the language.

I realize this might sounds ridiculous coming from someone that already lives in central China, but it's far from the same thing. I long ago grew comfortable with the fact that, push comes to shove, I'll be able to communicate in China. Here, I am more than just a tourist, or at least I don't feel like a tourist. I speak the language, I understand basic cultural norms and that seems to afford me some level of dignity.

In Malaysia and Indonesia, however, I am no better than the next stupid tourist, walking around hoping to find someone that speaks English to help me find a bathroom. I felt helpless in a way that I sincerely did not appreciate. It should be noted that English is prevalent in both nations to a degree that astonished this Chinese immigrant. For example, I had a fascinating conversation with a Malaysian taxi driver who used to train bomb sniffing dogs in Virginia. Try having a conversation in English with a taxi driver in Beijing. You can't.

Our first day of actual sightseeing brought us to the world's largest free-flying aviary. In other words, lots of birds there. All jokes aside, it was a pretty amazing place, and the animals were beautiful, when they weren't pooping on you from the trees (you know I can't put aside jokes for more that one sentence at a time).

I met a friend
Our next stop was the adjacent exhibit of the legendary mouse deer. OK, maybe legendary isn't the right word, but they are pretty great. My pictures of them suck, but the internet has my back.

Was I right, or was I right?
The following day we visited Batu Caves. I normally prefer to avoid super touristy spots. Living in China, I see enough people as it is, so the idea of cramming my way into another subway car or bus to visit a site that ten million people a year come to see doesn't really get my juices flowing. This trip, however, taught me that sometimes these sites are popular for a reason. Take these caves, for instance. They are stunning, not only for their natural beauty, but for the human creations that surround them. Again, my photos sucks and/or were killed by the ocean (Sorry, we're still not to that part of the story), so I have raided Google images.



As you can imagine, it's far more impressive in person. If they'd let me, I would spend the night in there. Except for the monkeys, which are scary.


You might be saying, "But, Ethan, they are so cute! Look at it eat that juice box!"

Sure, but he stole that juice box, and probably from a child! Somewhere, there is a child crying, wishing they still had a juice box. So if you like monkeys, you must hate children. You should be ashamed of yourself. Plus, they have sharp, scary teeth. Need I say more?

Our final day was spent in the central market buying gifts, which, for obvious reasons, I will not discuss here.  Stay tuned for the next installment, when we head to Bali, Indonesia.

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