Kuala Lumpur - Chapter 2

In a hotel where it costs 1.15 USD to copy a single sheet of paper I would expect nothing less of the view from my window. The scenery outside room 2617 of the Kuala Lumpur Westin is magnificent. To the left is the “Menara,” Malaysia’s version of the space needle. I’m beginning to think it’s mandatory for each country to construct a similar edifice. To the right of that, and just a few blocks away, the twin towers stand erect – a phenomenon only Virginia Baker could bring about (Catherine Zeta-Jones’ character in Entrapment). Further to my right I see an extended sidewalk of rooftops leading to the base of the distant mountains. I plot out my course. If only I had taken up training that time I visited the Shoulin Temple traversing the rooftops might actually be a reality for me. Regrets. I’ll have to leave that one to my imagination.

As my eyes reach the end of the trail I notice clouds rolling in over the mountains. It must be 2:30. Each afternoon, like clockwork, a rainstorm waters the well-trodden ground of the Klang Valley – the most populous, urbanized region of Malaysia.

I turn away to continue my work only to return every few minutes and watch the show. Rainstorms are my escape to seclusion after a hard day’s work. The soothing rhythm of the rain beating down on the window is enough to calm the fiercest of beasts on their quest for blood. I am reminded of the times as a child when I would watch from the front porch as thunderstorms eased their way past my Virginia home. The gentle breeze would carry a soft, almost unnoticeable mist through the rails bringing a cool sensation to the humid atmosphere. Now, being stuck on the inside, my memory serves me well. I can still feel the same soothing breeze. The only difference is I am standing on a much larger "porch" in a foreign land.

An hour passes with me slipping in and out of nostalgia. The rain will soon be gone. If there is one rule of thumb I have picked up in Asia it is, “the wetter the cleaner.” This is not the kind of thing to be learned from browsing National Geographic’s “Introduction to Asian Culture” issue; rather it is something one comes to understand over time. You could imagine my worry the first time I forgot to check the toilet seat before sitting down. If wetter is in fact cleaner, then the Klang Valley is now a ’57 Chevy on the way to a car show.

I look forward to 2:30 tomorrow when the raindrops will be my soundtrack for another nostalgic journey.