Kuala Lumpur

This past weekend Kevin, Landon, and I went to KL for the Future Music Festival. My last class on Thursday ended at 1800 and we took a bus scheduled to leave at 1820. It was a bit of a scramble to get to the station on time, but we needn't have worried, the bus was an hour late. We arrived in KL around midnight and followed excellent directions to our hostel. It was a cheap backpacker's hostel, but it was located in the middle of Chinatown and had a place to hang out on the roof. After we checked in we headed to the roof to eat some snacks. The mango pudding we picked up turned out to be separated and generally odd, but the SuperStarz Ⓡ flavored chips were quite good. 

The street market.
(photocred: Landon)

We spent most of Friday on Petaling Street, the street market in Chinatown, haggling with hawkers for decent prices. The first price they named was generally six to eight times the reasonable price, so each purchase took quite some time. I came away with an Armani belt (genuine leather I was assured, though it is quite obviously not), Landon found a Rolex, and Kevin bought a bottle of Hugo Boss cologne.
We found our lunch in a dark alley at a Chinese food stall that served delicious noodles for five ringitt. We then headed across town to KL Central station to get a pass to the public transportation system and to meet up with some friends who live in Borneo but happened to be in KL for the weekend. It was much farther and hotter than we anticipated. We arrived five minutes after the counter closed, so we decided to explore nearby Little India. 

We ate supper with Ethan and Queena, their kids, and friend Dawn, and spent the evening playing Settlers of Catan with a lovely view of the Petronas Towers. I was tempted to run the few kilometer back to our hostel, but the voice of reason (Landon, in this instance) prevailed and we took a taxi. Probably was a better decision, three white guys wandering the streets of KL after midnight might not be the safest of situations.

Saturday morning we explored KL a bit more, visiting City Center and the Petronas towers. After some more delicious alley noodles we made our way to the music festival. A series of one to two minute delays meant that we missed the bus and the train, so we had to wait half an hour for the next one. Fortunately we found a McDonalds with one-ringitt ice-cream cones so it was a pleasant wait.

We made it to the festival just as it started to rain and most of the bands we were interested in played later in the evening so we just wandered around for a while. The storm passed leaving magnificent clouds, and the sun set in a blaze of glory.

Temper Trap was quite good, and PSY was the next attraction for us. We spent about half an hour before his performance worming our way to the center of the crowd. He came onstage and chatted with the crowd about his rise to fame and how exhausting it was. This was his last scheduled performance, and he said he was looking forward to a respite. The crowd enjoyed his first two songs, but really went wild with Gangnam Style. It was quite an experience being part of such an immense, energetic mass of humanity.

fun. played next and as people left after PSY Kevin and I made our way forward to about the fourth row from the stage. Landon wasn't feeling great so he made his way out of the crowd and found a place where he could sit and watch the performance. Apparently there were some technical difficulties, and it took about forty-five minutes to set up. Every time anything changed, the lights dimmed, or they ran a sound check, applause would break out in anticipation, and then fade in disappointment. When they finally appeared they put on quite a show. They seemed to be genuinely enjoying themselves and the audience was nearly as excited as it had been for PSY.

Landon's headache had worsened and he decided to head back to the hostel. Kevin and I sat on a curb for a while, listened to Kill the Noise, stretched our backs and legs and watched people. It was quite entertaining observing the varying levels of inebriation and enthusiasm. Some people were completely dead by that point, and just stood staring into space, some danced their way around instead of walking, and some jovially handed out beer.
The Prodigy was something of a disappointment, more metal than the electronic sound that I know from their recordings. After several attempts by the crowd to crush us in a mosh pit, we decided to go check out Bloc Party. I quite enjoyed their music, and their light show was also pretty great.
We left a few songs before the end to beat the crowds and try to find a cheap taxi. The first few we asked quoted absurdly high prices, so we kept looking until we found someone who actually used the meter that is required by law. He was one of the most pleasant taxi drivers I have encountered yet; his prices were reasonable, his driving was skilled, and we chatted on our way back to the hotel.
I returned to UTP for a week of quizzes, assignments, and lab reports. I was assigned a twenty-page group paper last week, for which we must interview a local business. Group projects are not my forte, neither are writing nor interviewing, so it's going to be fun.
Sadly not the band.

The best of times and worst of times

Spring Break is here! UTP generously gives their students two whole days off, and with a four day weekend, we decided to make our way to the Perhentian Islands. During Monsoon season the islands are not pleasant due to debris that clogs the beaches and mud that clouds the usually crystal waters. Hostels on the island usually reopen around the beginning of March, and by the middle of the month the water’s clarity has returned. Unfortunately for us, the monsoon season came about a month late this year, and our opportunity to visit the islands is now.

We planned to take the UTP provided bus to the night market in Sri Iskandar, and then find a bus from there to Ipoh. From Ipoh we would ride seven hours on the night bus which departs at 2200 for Kota Bharu. We would then have to find some transport to the Jetty in Kuala Besut, and a boat from there to the islands. There were uncertainties, but that is how we travel.

Then the UTP bus was canceled ‘due to unforeseen circumstances.’ So we called some friends and eventually found someone who could take us to the night market. Just as we arrived it started to downpour, as has become standard for our visits, so we grabbed food as quickly as we could and boarded a bus drenched and dripping. We found a bus from Ipoh to Kota Bharu without any issues, and it even left on time. I tried to sleep, but sadly I am not very skilled in that area, and never got beyond the jolt that you get just before falling asleep. Around midnight, at a restaurant in the middle of nowhere, the bus stopped for an hour. Eventually we were told to empty this bus and board a different one. It turned out to be somewhat more crowded and cramped than the last, but Kevin and I were able to find seats together, and Berthold had most of the back row to himself. Unfortunately the other occupants of the back row were playing ‘music’ on their phone whose wailing wasn’t pleasant in the least. “Who plays music on a night bus!?” “Some people just want to watch the world burn” was Kevin's response.

The next six hours were not enjoyable in the least. I didn’t wish to wake the guy to request that he cease his intolerable serenade, but it took great effort not to be very irritated.

I was exhausted from sleeping poorly the night before, and it would have been great to at least doze off occasionally, but the wailing playlist from the seat behind us repeated for the entire six hours. To keep my brain busy I tried to understand the rationale that would allow someone to play music loudly on a bus where everyone was trying to sleep. I have noticed that this culture as a whole seems to lack the respect for others that is expected in the U.S. Wasting someone’s time, while generally unacceptable in the States is not even blinked at here. Inconveniencing people with one's actions and expectations seems to be a valid modus operandi. This is apparent in my classes, the driving habits, the litter which covers the country, the wailing on the night bus, and even when ordering food. I guess Music Man either didn’t take the time to consider the effects of his actions or simply didn’t care.

And thus I spent six hours trying either to distract myself or blot out his music with my own. We arrived in Kota Bharu around 0500 (apparently the hour wait was part of the schedule) and missed our stop. On our walk through the darkened city back to the bus station we joined some people watching champion’s league football in a restaurant. When we found the bus station, we asked some taxi drivers when the first bus to K. Besut was, and were told that it was not until 0830 so we should of course take a taxi, and quoted a price ten ringitt higher than the last driver we asked. I felt that his perspective was probably a bit biased, and I glanced at the ticket booth and noticed a schedule indicating that the buses started running at 0615. Not being in a very good mood due to sleep deprivation, I was tempted to walk up to our would-be swindler and ask him how he could justify his lack of integrity, but reason prevailed.

I was finally able to lose consciousness on the bus to the jetty, though only briefly. Our boat to the island was suppose to leave around 0830, and about 0845 someone came and told us to follow them to the boat. He spent fifteen minutes wandering the jetties looking for the boat, and then had us follow someone else. We waited another 15 minutes for the boat to show up, and then fifteen more while they boarded. The sign said maximum capacity was ten people, so I was a little surprised when we left with only fourteen. Before we left the bay, however, the pilot turned around and we gained another four passengers. Even with nearly twice the recommended load, the boat was able to move relatively quickly. It rose with the swells and then slammed into the water on the other side. Some of the moments of weightlessness were rather exhilarating and Kevin and I began rating our impacts based on how close the water came to coming over the gunnels. It nearly did a couple times, but never quite succeeded in swamping us.

The water became less turbid with increased distance from the mainland, and was fairly clear by the time we reached the island. It wasn’t nearly as beautiful as the water in Phuket, or the pictures I had seen of Perhentian under better conditions, but still quite lovely. Traveling in the off season does have its benefits, though, and we checked into a nice resort whose AC room was the same price as the chalets with holes in the floor. Berthold began his SCUBA certification course immediately, and Kevin and I, exhausted from the trip, just chilled for a while.

Once we regained some energy we walked across the island to seek a beach. What we found woke us up completely. The white sand ended in blue water with waves far bigger than any I have seen in Malaysia to date. There is still debris scattered on the beach from the rains, and smoldering fires saturate the surrounding jungle with smoke, but all we saw was beach.

We spent two hours enjoying the waves and fighting a strong current that pulled us along the beach toward some lovely rocks. Lovely for climbing that is, not so much for being dashed against by the surf. The sun and swimming drained our energy, and we decided to sleep through the heat of the day. We awoke refreshed around 1800 and explored the island a bit before nightfall.
We then found Berthold and a restaurant which was exuding fabulous aromas, and ordered grilled seafood.

It was the best meal I have eaten in Malaysia, and probably the best I’ve ever had in a restaurant. We ate on the beach, and by that I mean we had to move our table as the tide came in. I got kingfish with butter garlic sauce, Kevin got a Spanish mackerel steak with coconut curry, and Berthold opted for the blue marlin with chili-soy sauce. Each meal was accompanied by potato, rice, coleslaw, pineapple, watermelon, and banana bread and washed it down with honeydew drink. This cost 5USD.

The fish was fresh, flakey and not at all fishy, the sauces delicious and the fruit exquisite. In addition to fantastic flavor, after eating I was actually satisfied, not hungrier than when I started as is usually the case. Definitely a buy. I am excited for supper tomorrow night to try shark or sting ray.

After dinner we slept, waking only once to kill mosquitoes.

Island Trek: Perhentian 1.0 shown in blue and 2.0 in red.

Island Trek Perhentian was scheduled to begin at 0630 with sunrise, but we were still pretty tired from not sleeping the night before, so we slept in until 0800. We packed a few pieces of bread and a liter of water, expecting a brief, three kilometer rock scramble. It turned out to be a grueling, eight and a half kilometer trek over boulders, along rock faces and through jungle creeks. Our greatest lack of preparation was water supply, and we ran out long before the end. Thankfully, God provided us with an unopened 1.5 liter bottle before we were completely spent.

While we have rated it most physically demanding, Island Trek Perhentian 1.0 also wins the prize for beauty. We crossed secluded white sand beaches edged with clear, azure water flashing with the vibrant colors of tropical fish. The bare rocks that blocked our route were as beautiful as they were challenging. The waves frothed and foamed as they crashed on the granite.

‘Twas awe-inspiring. It doesn’t quite seem real that I am actually here, on yet another tropical island, trekking through landscapes like those I admire in National Geographic's photo of the day.

I’m not even going to try to describe it as I couldn’t even come close to capturing it with my camera. I hope that my feeble attempts below at least give you a taste of the beauty I have been privileged enough to experience. I am sorry I cannot include the sea breeze, roar of the surf, incineratory tropical sun, and salt spray.

Where we began our journey

The beach where we stopped to swim.

These feet were made for trekkin'!

Watching the waves was great, but had a high risk of getting soaked

Rounding the point of the Island

When we finally made it back to the hotel, dehydrated and exhausted, a nap seemed in order. After resting briefly we ate another meal of incredible seafood: barracuda, shark, and dorado this time.

Mosquitoes and heat made the night a rather restless one, but I still decided to get up before the sun in order to watch it rise. I jogged a kilometer to the far side of the island and then scrambled another third of one out to the eastern point of Pulau Kecil. The sunrise was quite lovely and it beautifully illuminated the cliffs that I had unsuccessfully attempted to photograph in the harsh afternoon sun. I spent an hour and a half watching the sun creep up the sky and the tide up the rocks in front of me.

I bouldered my way back to the beach, taking advantage of cracks in a cliff face to traverse across it instead of climbing over the top. Kevin had finally gotten some sleep while I was out adventuring and when he woke we set off on Perhentian Trek 2.0. We hiked through the jungle to the southern end of the island to find some burgers fabled to be made of *gasp* real meat. The trail was covered by fallen trees and vines at times, and we nearly had a run in with several large monitor lizards. We found a burger stand after wandering the village a bit but weren’t sure that it was the right one. We ordered one each, and immediately ordered another when we saw the burgers. Though lacking in girth, they were more than an inch thick and looked more like beef than anything I have seen here. They were drenched in delicious sauces of several types and actually came with some vegetables.

Strengthened by burgers we set off to complete our circumnavigation of the island. We took a random side path and ended up wandering through a ‘suburb’ of metal shacks where everyone stared at us, but eventually we found our way back into the jungle. We followed the shoreline around the remaining portion of the island and swam at Long beach again. Sunset on the beach was followed by a sea food buffet which left us all quite satisfied.

The plan for Sunday was for Kevin and I hike to the other side of the island, get burgers for the road, leave on the last boat off the island, catch a bus from Kuala Besut to Kota Bharu and take a night bus from there all the way to UTP. We would arrive around 0600, grab a bit of sleep and then I would go to class for eight hours. The best laid plans of mice and men oft go awry.

We decided to try to find another trail to the burgers, but it vanished into the jungle. We beat our way through the undergrowth to follow a pipeline that we were pretty sure went the same place we wanted to go. This took much longer than we expected and by the time we got to the Fisherman’s Village it was time to run back across the island to catch our boat. And the burger place was closed. Tragedy.

We ran the three kilometers of hilly trail back to the hotel, checked out and made it to the jetty by 1200 to catch our boat. While we were waiting I idly wondered if there would be space on the bus from K. Bharu to UTP.

This time the ten-person boat was loaded with 25 people so it was riding very low in the water and listing slightly to starboard. The water was very choppy, and every time the bow of the boat slammed into the water after going over a wave we got wet: especially me. In addition to the spray coming over the prow, two streams of water, directed exactly at me, came through little holes on either side of the boat. It was my own fault; I had decided to sit in the front row because I figured it would be the driest once the boat planed out. That never happened since the water was so rough and the boat was carrying 2.5 times its recommended capacity. I was literally dripping by the time we arrived on the mainland.

The boat also took longer than it would have under ideal conditions, so we missed the bus that we had planned to take on the first leg of our journey. We found three other UTP students in the same predicament and decided to share the cost of a taxi. It took ten minutes and twenty extra ringitt to convince a driver to take all five of us, but in the end we crammed ourselves in and drove a very sweaty two hours.

We arrived in K. Bharu around 1500 only to find that all the buses going the direction we wanted to were full. After asking every booth about every option, we bought tickets to Penang, three and a half hours from where we actually wanted to go, but five hours closer than our current location.  That bus didn’t leave until 2130 though, and from a station several kilometers away. We had six hours to kill, so we walked the three kilometers across town to the other bus station in the sweltering sun. We spent the rest of afternoon being stared at while we wandered around the area, finding food, watching a movie in a KFC, and eating some delicious ice-cream.

We talked to the bus drivers to see if there would be any chance of taking the place of no shows on the bus to Ipoh. They seemed helpful, and said that maybe we could switch buses when they stopped at 0130 if there were any empty seats. At that time however they said that all the seats were full (though I had seen at least two empty ones), that two of us could sit on the floor if we wanted to, that that wasn’t an option, that we should just continue to Penang and catch a 0600 bus from there, that the counters wouldn’t be open until 0800, and were generally confusing and evasive. I was tempted to stow away in one of the empty seats, or even a luggage compartment in order to not miss my lab. In the end though we just re-boarded the bus going were we didn’t want to go. Around 0300, I heard a weird noise, and shortly after the bus stopped. Apparently something broke, because we remained there for an hour and a half and were then rescued by another bus. At least this wait wasn't accompanied by wailing.

We arrived in Penang around 0600, and chilled there until we could catch a bus to Ipoh at 0830, and then took a taxi back to UTP. In total we spent 24 hours in transit from Perhentian to UTP, and I didn’t sleep for 40 hours. We arrived just in time for me to take a 15 minute nap and then spend six hours in the classes that I didn’t miss as a result of our escapade.

Staying awake has rarely been more difficult.

Mist, Moss, and Mud

Due to the responsibilities of school we decided that a trip that consumed the entire weekend would not be wise, and opted to just go adventuring Friday and Saturday. We rented a car (an ancient, disintegrating Proton Saga) and set off for the Cameron Highlands. Landon was driving and Berthold seemed to have the navigation under control, so I merrily studied and listened to music.

I've crawled through many a culvert in my time,
 but never one with a waterfall at one end.

About half an hour into the steep, winding drive up into the highlands, I noted a peculiar smell of burning. We stopped in a pull-off and found that there was, in fact, suspicious vapors rising from under the hood. It turned out that the radiator had just run out of coolant and was boiling over, so we snagged some water from a nearby waterfall and refilled it.

That (and turning off the AC) seemed to mostly solve the problem, but we had to stop a couple more times when it began to overheat again.

As our altitude increased the lack of AC ceased to be a problem as the temperature and humidity dropped. I had forgotten how lovely weather could be. The jungle covered hills were shrouded in clouds, constantly shifting under the influence of prevailing winds and illuminated by the setting sun. We stopped at a tea plantation and wandered in the tea fields a bit.

I think that I shall never see a field as green as one growing tea.

Much to my excitement, the shop sold tea at reasonable prices, and I bought enough (I hope) to last the rest of the semester. I have been missing tea.

We couldn’t seem to find our hotel so we called them and were told ‘I can see you, stay there.’ Someone came and led us down an alley, through the back of a restaurant, past cages of chickens and to the hotel reception.

Relieved of our belongings we went to find the night market which, according to the internet, was one of the best. We found a few stalls but no real market. After asking around we discovered that the night market had been forbidden from happening this particular day because of a bicycle race whose terminus was in this town the following day. Disappointed, we found a nasi goreng stall and took the edge off our hunger.

One of the nearby mountains (Gunung Brinchang, 6,666 feet) had a trail which began nearby, and I convinced the others that it would be best to get up early and hike before the heat. I was awakened much earlier than I would have liked by the call to prayer from a nearby mosque. After the obligatory cups of tea, we set off up the mountain. Some helpful locals redirected us after a wrong turn or two, and suddenly we found ourselves in the jungle.

The trail was relatively steep, but the tangled roots of trees which laced the pathway provided reasonable steps. One tree (potentially an Ent), growing in the middle of the path appeared to be mid-stride.

As we ascended, the wind strengthened and the fog and moss grew thicker. We found a break in the trees which coincided with a break in the clouds to provide a reasonable view of the mountains. The wind brought dense chunks of fog rolling over the ridge behind to dissipate. 

The clouds beat us to the peak and when arrived visibility was not more than 25 meters. Berthold and Landon opted to find their way down the mountain and seek other activities that the Cameron Highlands had to offer, but Kevin and I decided that four kilometers and 250 vertical meters wasn’t enough of a trek.

There was supposed to be a trail from the top of Brinchang to Irau, the highest point in the Cameron Highlands. The maps weren’t very clear, and neither were the directions we received from a taxi driver, so we decided to just try to find it ourselves.

There were numerous trails leading into the jungle from the main road and since we didn’t know which was the trail we were looking for, we took most of them. Most just vanished into dense mossy undergrowth.

One simply went to a rock face.

We scrambled up it and found a wall of vegetation with one small opening in it.

We forced our way through and it opened into a whole new world.

After a number of enjoyable side excursions, we found a legitimate-looking trail and followed it. We soon discovered that the first hike was just pregaming. This trail was far steeper, more slippery and treacherous and interspersed with mud pits. For a while I made a game of never stepping directly on the ground and traversing via roots and rocks alone. It was quite an enjoyable challenge and had a bonus of keeping my feet clean. Of course all it took was one misstep on a slippery log and Squelch! I lost the game.

The trail undulated like a serpent, taking us up one steep, slippery, root entangled stretch and then back down just as steeply, and once we reached the bottom, back up again.

 It was more like climbing most of the time than hiking. I found that Gollum style was very effective, and decreased the feeling that I was always about to go bouncing down to the nearest bottom.  The risk of turning an ankle was constant, and the necessity of being prepared to slip at every step was even more exhausting. About a kilometer in we came upon a sign that indicated that it was the trail that we had been looking for, and we had another two kilometers to go.

I didn’t really care where the trail was taking us; just traveling it was rewarding enough in itself. We were surrounded by so much beauty that we had to stop from time to time simply to try to absorb it. As usual, my photographic urges to capture it were completely foiled.

The vegetation changed dramatically between the ridges and valleys, but for most of the trek we were surrounded by moss. Mist saturated the forest of massive, twisted trees, so covered in moss that they formed an almost solid roof at times. Moss cloaked trees, moss draped bushes, moss covered rocks, and moss carpeted depressions where every sound from the outside world was muted.

Can you spot the leprechaun?

The moss and bushes made it impossible to see very far in any direction, and at one point Kevin lost me completely when I took a side route. In some places the tangled undergrowth arching over the trail was so thickly blanketed with moss that it created a tunnel. The seclusion from the outside world, eerie stillness, and drifting bits of cloud made the whole scene seem mythological. I would not have been surprised to see out of the corner of my eye a dryad slip silently in into the woods.

The air got wetter and wetter as we hiked, and when we reached the peak it finally decided to rain. The cloud we were in blocked all visibility on the top, but we had made it. While our displacement may have been three kilometers, the actual distance traveled was significantly greater. I was planning to do a backflip to celebrate, but then a group of hikers we had passed showed up, and I didn’t want an audience. Maybe it’s for the best; I didn’t exactly have ‘energy legs’ at that point. I found some socks hanging in a tree, and they looked pretty nice so I decided to keep them as adventure socks. (Ha. As if I wear socks on any real adventure.)

I almost had service on the top, so I texted Landon that we would be later returning than we expected. He responded that they were stuck in the next town, five kilometers away, because of the bike race. Since we had almost fifteen kilometers to get back instead of six we decided that we should bid the peak farewell and mosey back.

The trek back was even more difficult than the way up, since the rain had deepened the mud and made everything more slippery. It was still beautiful though, and coming from the opposite direction was enough of a perspective change that it was almost like a new trail. We slipped, scrambled, scaled, and squelched the ‘three’ kilometers back to the trail-head. From there we began walking the 12 kilometers back to town.

It seemed that a cloud had eaten the entire mountain and for several kilometers we walked down a misty road through the jungle. Walking down a steep road in sodden, muddy shoes, after seven hours of intense jungle trekking, having eaten only a few slices of bread and some chips that day, is not something I would recommend. A small creek provided an opportunity to rinse off some mud, and the water also cooled our strain-swollen ankles and burning muscles.

Then the jungle abruptly changed to mist-shrouded tea plantations. The chartreuse tea fields, bordered by mist-shrouded evergreens, vanished into the sea of cloud. It was exquisite.

 We just stood for a while, trying to commit all the sensations to memory.

Eventually we remembered that we still had around ten kilometers to walk (ideally before dark) and continued our exhausted amble down the mountain.

Apparently the roads opened and Landon was able to come and meet us, so we only walked ten of the thirteen kilometers on the road. Our total trek was approximately 20 kilometers, but half of that was on one of the roughest trails I have ever hiked.

We stopped at a Buddhist temple and bought some petrol (apparently it is the only source in the area) and then coasted down out of the clouds back to the heat and humidity of the lowlands.

Waiting for a Test

(Scrawled in my notebook during the dead period between a class and my Organic Chemistry test on Monday night.)

Further study is useless at this point but my brain cannot hold still.
I spent the entire preceding two hours studying in class. I still missed nothing, and not because of amazing multitasking. Here I sit on concrete steps, trying to think of anything but substitution, elimination, and dehydrohalogenation.
My MP3 player, on shuffle, plays Andy McKee. His complex rhythms and melodies blend with the raindrops splashing in the puddle in front of me. Night has fallen, but remnants of daylight linger in the western sky. The onion dome of the mosque gleams ivory in the damp dusk, and lights illuminating it reflect in shimmering streaks on the surface of the rain-drowned lake. The call to prayer rattles from loudspeakers, competing with both the music in my headphones and the rain ringing the sheet-metal roof above me.
Ten minutes remain until the scheduled beginning of the test, and a total of four people have arrived. I'm not surprised, even though at S&T nearly everyone would have come at least ten minutes ago. Punctuality is not exactly a high priority in this culture, and I expect that the test will start ten minutes late. Even my calculus T.A. who literally yells at people if they are a minute late, was himself fifteen minutes late this morning. I had given up on him, assuming that the class had been canceled without notice, as my previous class had been. Sadly, just as I left I met him coming in and felt obliged to return to class.
The time has come. "Waiting for a Train" by Hans Zimmer from Inception plays, and I smile sardonically as I walk inside to face my fate.

Hey Kids! Illegal Immigration is Fun!

I am rather busy this week, with three tests and five assignments due (of course, only one of the tests actually has actually been given a date and time, and only two of the assignments are assigned). Because of this, I do not have time to compose a coherent account of our trip to Thailand. Instead I will post here assorted experiences I recorded along the way along with a few pictures. Enjoy!

8 February 2013 0129 Somewhere in Thailand

It was a rather brutal week. I started out exhausted from the trip to Singapore, and behind in my studies from skipping classes in order to go. I spent most of Monday (other than my eight hours straight of classes that day) and Tuesday studying for quizzes and trying to catch up on everything. Even by the end of Tuesday I was only beginning to have an idea what’s going on in Ochem and Calc out of all my classes.

In my first Ochem lab on Wednesday I found out that I needed a lab coat, which cost fifty five ringitt and was only sold on the opposite side of campus. By the time I made it back to the lab I was covered in sweat, and still had no idea what was going on. My lab partner didn't show up, so I joined another group to do the experiment. Our equipment didn't function properly, the T.A. had no more idea what was going on than I did, and we had to restart the experiment halfway through. 

I awoke at 0530 this morning and between studying, sorting pictures and working on a blog post, I spent the entire morning on the computer. I also attempted for the sixth time to get my ID card but was again foiled. It seems that posted operating hours are dependent upon whether the occupant of the office feels like coming to work. After my five hour dose of classes, three of which were utterly pointless, I packed frantically and we left for Phuket. I have tons of stuff because I brought my laptop and a bunch of books for the studying I need to do.

And to Phuket we are now bound. After only one wrong turn due to lack of signage we succeeded in making the Thai border before it closes at midnight. However, in navigating the customs and various checkpoints, we did not come out with Thai stamps in our passports. The police at the checkpoint said that everything was in order, but I am not convinced. I do not know if this is what should happen, or if we missed a crucial step. I’m not terribly worried about it though, and if we get arrested, it will simply be a good story to add to my repertoire.

1712 Hotel in Phuket

We made it safely to Phuket around 0530, and then spent an hour and a half trying to figure out where we were so that we could get Landon to his diving agency on time. With the help of some locals and a map, we eventually located the pier just in time for sunrise.

After dropping Landon off, Kevin navigated and I drove on a circuitous route passing several beaches on the way to our hotel. The beach we stopped at was incredibly beautiful. I have never seen such clear water in an ocean, and the sand was fine white powder. We didn’t stay long though because we were all exhausted and anxious to get some sleep. 

Driving in a third-world country as a foreigner, especially an American, is rarely advisable. Neither is sleep-deprived driving. By this time I had been 24 hours without sleep, with only four in the previous 48. My waking hours during that time had been dominated by intensive studying. But Berthold did not feel comfortable driving as he was rather lightheaded and Kevin didn't like the idea of driving stick. 

I quite enjoyed the exercise of intense focus that is required to drive in traffic with no traffic laws. It was a sheer act of God that we made it to the Seabreeze Mansion alive and devoid of manslaughter charges. Some of the moped drivers genuinely appeared to be suicidal. We discovered that we would not be able to check in until 1300, and since it was only 1000 we decided to go exploring. We wandered around the area seeking food for what became four hours. In that time I purchased and consumed the following: a number of widely varied balls of meat, some sticky, slightly raw rice in a slightly sweet sauce, a ‘panda custard’ filled roll, and some bananas, jasmine green tea and bubblegum flavored juice. In addition to this, one of the shops we visited gave us tea and four mangos, which may have been the best part of the meal. A canal reeking of sewage and a friendly security guard (‘You turn round. Go.’ Said with a massive smile) made our return route much longer we anticipated, and by the time we got back we were all hot, sweaty, and dehydrated.

We were so excited about showers and air-conditioned naps that I forgot to check into the possible consequences of our mishap at the border crossing. Some brief research revealed what should have been obvious; of course stamps were required and we were definitely in Thailand illegally. Consequences could include a hefty fine, detainment, and/or arrest.

At 1545 I discovered that the immigration office in Phuket closed at 1630, I roused Kevin and Berthold and we set off to find whatever information we could. Wrong turns, unclear signage, and a helpful guard of the Solid Waste Incineration Facility all factored into the two kilometer trip. When we finally found the immigration office, we were sent to three different stations only to find out…Nothing. The officer said only that he could not help us, we simply had to leave through the same terminal we entered through and try to work it out then. Great, I can hardly contain my excitement at the thought of spending time in a Thai jail.

9 February 2013 - 2253 Seabreeze Mansion, Phuket

Landon went diving again today so Berthold, Kevin and I did some exploring on our own. We went to the southern tip of the island and found a lighthouse, a shrine, and a view.

After a breakfast of nasi goreng ayam (chicken fried rice) Kevin and I embarked on Island Trek III. We had some difficulty deciding upon a route, but ended up taking the one that appeared to be about 11 kilometers. We hiked through crumbly granite rock, somewhat like Pangkor at times, with more scrambling than climbing. The rottenness of the rock betrayed Kevin twice, causing him to fall and injure his ankle and cut his hands and arms. He continued stoically despite the pain. A scramble up one of the headlands rewarded us with a lovely view of the environs.

We ran out of water about halfway through the trip, so we stopped at a private beach and bought some for an exorbitant price.

After lying on the sand and sitting in the water for about an hour we decided that we should probably go find Berthold. It did not seem wise to continue trekking the coastline with no water, so we followed a road up a steep hill inland. Along the way we found some ripe bananas on a tree and ate them. They were delicious.

After following a road for about two kilometers, I decided that I would rather take a ‘short cut’ to the beach through the jungle. Kevin wasn’t terribly enthusiastic about it, but did not protest too vociferously so we jumped a fence into a palm oil plantation.

I was somewhat unnerved by the close proximity of some shacks with barking dogs, but we weren’t bitten or mugged. We followed terraces until they no longer went the direction we wanted to, and struck off through the jungle. For a time a creek provided a convenient passage through the dense undergrowth, but it vanished underground and left us to beat through the brush on our own.

Nearly every plant we encountered was thorny or sharp in some way, and those which weren’t were crawling with biting ants. A flying insect of some sort found Kevin’s side and left him with a nasty welt and lingering pain. After about forty-five minutes of painfully slow progress we emerged from the jungle on an embankment above a resort. We picked our way down the slope, walked through the resort pretending to belong there, and plunged our sweating, scraped, and dehydrated bodies into the beautiful water.

The water here is the most beautiful I have ever encountered in an ocean, and perhaps fresh as well. It is incredibly clear and stretches to the horizon in a gradient of deepening turquoise. I decided that my favorite color lies about three-fourths of the way to the edge of my field of vision. The water is edged with fine white sand that is a pleasure to walk in. As the waves rise to break, it forms a gradated wall with the darker blue at the bottom and a foamy white crest. God certainly did excellent work in sculpting this area.

After we found Berthold (which turned out to be incredibly easy, given that our meeting point was a crowded, one kilometer long beach) we went in search of food. We finally located the pad thai shop which had been recommended by so many sources, but it was closed for the week. As we walked around looking for other options, we noticed many families laying out massive, delicious looking feasts. I was slightly confused until the explosions of firecrackers reminded me that it is Chinese New Year.  Another shop just up the street seemed like a good option for food, and I ordered Dragon Fire.

The rice, greens and sauce were aptly named, making my mouth burn and my face perspire. And I didn’t even eat the numerous red peppers included in the dish. After retrieving Landon from the dive shop we drove back to the hostel, hoping to find a night market on the way.

Due to the lack of signage on roads, we ended up not following my intended route, but happened to pass another market and stopped to investigate. As has become my custom, I wandered through the stalls collecting foods I did not recognize. An octopus-tentacle kebab was my most interesting find of the night, and though somewhat rubbery, it was quite good.

10 February 2013 2329

I woke up about an hour before the others today and researched a tentative itinerary based on Berthold’s guidebook and my own research. When the others rose we set off for a waterfall in the northern half of the island. After several unforeseen turns (once again due primarily to unclear marking of the roads) we found our way to the entrance of what turned out to be a rather pricey national park. We decided that it was not worth paying the entry fee for the amount of time we intended to spend there, so we headed for the beach instead. A couple of hours in the water was sufficient to complete the sunburn I had begun the day before, and my shoulders and back are quite sensitive now.

On the way back across the island we attempted to stop and visit another water fall, but it was only a trickle. The area was quite beautiful though, and I saw several species of large butterflies. We also found a relatively cheap restaurant that served some amazing Thai food, including the pad thai that we had thus far been unable to find.

Our next stop was a night market that reminded me very much of Toy Market in Nairobi. It was the largest I have seen on this half of the world, with an extensive selection of counterfeit goods from Beats to Ray-Ban to Armani. There was also a large food section where I spent most of my time. I my supper consisted of breaded octopus, kebabs of various meats, kiwi juice, a deep fried squid, balls of meat wrapped in egg noodle, a pineapple pancake thing, and several other delicious tidbits.

Kevin and Landon did not eat as much at the night market, so we went in search of a pizzeria that was said to offer a selection of some delicious curry pizzas. My navigating skills were deteriorating severely at this point, and though it was only a kilometer from our hostel, my directions caused us to spend nearly half an hour searching for it. We found it right as it was closing, and it turned out that it would not be open the following day. Somewhat disappointed, I turned back toward the car, but was summoned back to the restaurant when Berthold found out that they would still be willing to make us some pizza. The pizzas were delicious, especially the coconut milk curry one, which was flavored with lemongrass. I am going to try to reproduce it sometime when I have the chance.

13 February 2013 2043 UTP

Our last two days in Thailand were relatively uneventful. We spent a lot of time driving, visited a night market, slept, were nearly involved in a car accident on several occasions, climbed in some awesome caves, and narrowly escaped being arrested for illegally immigrating to Thailand.

We found a deserted beach just before we left Phuket island.

Though Monday and Tuesday were both holidays, early Monday we left Phuket for Krabi, hoping to find and engage in whatever entertaining activities presented themselves. We thought that it might be wise to get some of the driving out of the way, and we had heard that the beaches in Krabi were quite nice.

Just outside Krabi we stopped at a Buddhist temple, called Tiger Cave. I never saw the caves, but 1337 steps and some exhausted quadriceps took me to the top of one of the limestone pinnacles that have been tantalizing me since I got here. A cooling breeze helped to dry the drenching of sweat I received on the way up. The view was fantastic and made me want to just go wandering off into the jungle and explore.

On one side the land was as flat as Kansas, but with palm oil plantations instead of cornfields. The flatness continued in the other direction as well, but was punctuated by a forest of outcroppings hundreds of meters high.

I jogged back down the uneven stairs, and did not take any of the 1337 opportunities that they offered to destroy an ankle. At the bottom we discovered that some monks were serving a free meal. The iced tea/juice stuff was lovely, and noodles provided some much needed sustenance. The best part though was some pastries filled with a substance I have yet to identify. It was partly sweet corn, and the rest was some grayish paste that tasted of flowers and deliciousness. If I knew what it was called, I would scour the internet for a recipe.

After the temple we set off in search of a beach. Some slightly directed wandering brought us to some mudflats which had been exposed by low tide. Something of a disappointment, but I decided to go explore whatever lay out of sight around the point. I kinda forgot that the others were waiting for me, and kept following my curiosity around the subsequent rocks as well. I discovered some beaches that would have been beautiful at high tide, and some very impressive rocks and caves. 

I jogged back through chunks of coral and rock, hoping not to injure myself too severely, and hoping that the others had decided to follow me instead of stand around waiting. I met them part way back, and they were intrigued by my report of caves and whatnot, so we decided to explore the area.

The caves turned out to be even more exciting than I thought, and instead of just having to gaze longingly at them from the beach, we found passageways behind the rock face that led to openings fairly far up the cliff.

With more time and maybe a torch I could have done some very enjoyable climbing, but the tide was rising and cutting off our return route. Our hostel turned out to be rather difficult to locate, but after driving up and down the street it was supposed to be on three times looking for any indication of an address, we finally found it secreted on a side street.

When we rose Tuesday morning, we decided to head for the border instead of explore Krabi’s surroundings more, just in case the little complication of illegal immigration took some time to sort out. Landon found a waterfall on the map that looked interesting, so we stopped there briefly to stretch our legs. I was hoping for a refreshing swim, but the water was none too inviting.

With minimal wrong turns and detours, we arrived at the border around 1500, and waited in traffic for a little over an hour. This wasn’t the most enjoyable time, as we were approaching whatever penalties awaited us for our misunderstanding of Thai immigration. I felt like I probably should be stressed about the possibility of imprisonment, but I wasn’t. I didn't know that I wouldn’t end the day in jail, but I was confident that whatever happened, God would be in control.

When we finally arrived at the border, the guard checked our passports, noted the lack of an entry stamp, and ushered us into a small office where some Greeks (based on their demeanor and passports) were arguing something having to do with their tourist visa. As we walked in, the immigration official with the most elaborate uniform and biggest desk said to the argumentative Greeks, in not overly pleasant tones, “This is my country, you will obey my laws!” At least his English is pretty good, I thought.

Our passports were handed to this officer, and sat down in the corner and waited for an extremely long 45 minutes. The immigration officer glanced through our passports, then set them down and proceeded to help with another five people who needed a stamp on their passport, or some document signed. I watched with amusement as the Greeks spent 15 minutes trying to haggle with the officials to pay 50 euros instead of 70 for overstaying their visa.

Finally Landon tired of waiting for the official to get around to dealing with us and decided to go talk to him. He explained our situation, how we had received an exit stamp from Malaysia, and had been waved through the checkpoint upon entering Thailand, and how we had been stopped at a police checkpoint just inside the border and they had inspected our car, looked through our visas, and sent us on our way. The official looked through our passports again, asked a few questions, inspected our passports for a third time and sat silently for a bit.
I don’t think I will soon forget his next sentence: “According to the law, I must arrest you.” This jolted me slightly, and Landon face turned an unhealthy shade of grey. The officer then stood up and left the room. I wondered if he was going to find some handcuffs, or talk to some other officers (though he certainly seemed to be the Person In Charge). When he returned 15 minutes later, he handed each of us a printed statement of the law we had violated and the penalty for that violation. “A maximum of BHT 20,000 fine, and up to two years in prison.” I am not sure why panic did not set in at this point, but I am going to assume it was supernatural intervention. I calmly began considering what contacts I would need to make, trying to remember the number for the U.S. embassy in Malaysia, and wondering what provisions the academic department at UTP had for imprisonment.

Landon was looking as though he might not retain consciousness, and Kevin suggested that perhaps we should join him in front of the intimidating desk. I had been thinking the same thing, so Berthold, Kevin and I left the safety of our couch in the corner and stood behind Landon. After about a minute of silence the official asked, 

“Do you think you can get back into Malaysia without an exit stamp from Thailand?” 

Glimmer of hope.

“I think so, we have student visa.”

“Well, I will let you go. Just go back to Malaysia.”

“Gladly sir. And thank you very much.”

We collected our passports and wasted no time in leaving the area. At one point when a uniform blew its whistle and waved frantically at us, I was somewhat concerned that we would have to return to the office, but he was simply telling us to get out of the way of oncoming traffic. The Malay immigration officials said nothing about the five days we had spent nowhere, and stamped our passports without hesitation.

Through the entire ordeal, I was concerned, but never stressed, for which I am very thankful.

The trip from the border to UTP was supposed to take under four hours, but with traffic, rain, and darkness it took six and a half. We finally arrived at UTP around midnight, exhausted and glad to be alive and non-imprisoned.