Once Upon An Alleyway: Bangkok

Over a chilled out conversation with a girlfriend today, I was reminded once again, how ‘weird timings’ played a satirical, backseat role in my life. And also, how all the stories are interrelated. I was regaling her with some of my tales from the span between 2010-2013, the most eventful part of my life so far, and realised my life had some weird sense of timing – almost like a personified backseat driver, equipped with a remote control, throwing it’s head back, laughing every now and then, with a face like the psychotic and deranged Heath Ledger playing Joker from ‘The Dark knight Rises’ but with a voice identical to Russel Peters in his signature manner saying ‘and just to have a bit of fun’ , let me add this new twist! Joker and Russel Peters, both in the same breath – I think I may have just taken the concept of paronomasia to another level!

Coming back to the timing. If my brother did not get married at the time he did, my life would have been another story altogether! Quite a statement, I agree, but let me back it up!

See my brother’s relationship leading up to his wedding – all happened in fast-forward. Early 2010, he informed me he was in a relationship with a special someone while my husband and I sure-footedly proceeded towards planning our much-awaited sabbatical. Both of us had reached a point in our life where we had been working non-stop for years and had not enjoyed a proper break or a pause to reflect, and decided a long 3-4 months time away would give us the energy for a fresh start. We were busy hatching a plan for January 2011 and like a pair of expecting parents of a firstborn, all our conversations, annoyingly for others, slowly started to revolve around it. Everyone was to put their lives on hold - cancel birthday parties, postpone weddings, delay the birth of their children – the works! All that was about to change as the Joker’s face in the backseat was beginning to crease into a smirk.

September 15^th was the last date for us to pay for all our flight bookings and on the 10^th my brother announced the unthinkable! While our plans were underway, so was his relationship, and the hatching had happened on both ends with his soon to turn into a wedding. And what month you ask – of course January 2011.

Our world came crashing down on us and my initial reaction was to pull a no-show at my brother’s wedding – how dare he fall in love so quick and to make matters worse, decide to get married quicker and now was ready to disrupt my perfect plans! It was all I could do to control the ticking bomb inside me that was ready to explode any moment. But of course, the volatile person that I am, forgot all about my resentment in the next instance – after all I may be planning our trip for months but had been planning his wedding ever since I was a child! Thus, the 3-4 month long sabbatical was cancelled and replaced exactly a year later by one that changed my life forever.

It was during the start of this, more long-term sabbatical (which is currently still in progress as a matter of fact) that I happened to encounter Thailand in the most random fashion possible. My olfactory perception can vaguely trace back the sights, sounds and particularly smell of the events that took place after dark and an extremely dazed, disoriented account of the daytime activities. I realise I have managed to paint quite a dodgy picture of our trip, especially where the reputation of Bangkok is concerned, forget reputation – the name itself is asking for trouble, but let me assure you nothing untoward had fortunately taken place. Except of course for that one time I thought my husband was dragged into a separate chamber in the massage parlour for a happy ending! But I shall get to that in a bit.

                                                      Spicy green mango salsa on Sukumvit 11!
                                                      Photo Credit: Raf Mustafa

My brother and his wife had by then just turned one together and we were in the early stages of an ongoing insanity that was to turn terminal by the end of the year. By the time my brother could add a question mark after uttering Thailand, we had mentally jumped on the bandwagon and was halfway through to Bangkok!

Sukumvit 11 welcomed us into this never-ending labyrinth of an alleyway that never ceased to surprise! Starting from the local favourites from the roadside pushcarts serving pan-fried, seasoned insects such as ants, grasshoppers and cockroaches to more universally acceptable delicacies such as the somtum, pad noodles and tom yum. A trip to Bangkok is also not worth without tasting the sinfully amazing green, unripened mango salad, which should come with a red-hot warning. And speaking of sinfully amazing things – what Bangkok trip is complete without a walk to the Khao San Road – home of the ping pong shows! The human rights bell start going off in my head as soon as I step into the red light district of Bangkok, nothing to mention the sorry, degradable state of women in Thailand but should you wish to witness it to find out? Sure, why not. But the recommendation is not coming out of my mouth.

Story of a fried bug :)

Photo Credit: Raf Mustafa

                                             Home of the Ping Pong Shows on Khao San Road.                  
                                             Photo Credit: Raf Mustafa

Moving to less serious stuff, people not wishing to contribute to empower sex trade around the world, could rather invest their time in being humoured by any cab-driver, by merely asking to see a sex show. The menu that comes out of the dashboard is a sight to behold! It is a laminated piece of art, listing prices of the various forms of notoriety on offer, but the part that piqued my interest was the nature of the names that described each performance.

I could go on and on about Sukumvit 11 and Khao San Road and the delicacies they offer both in terms of food and activities, but I shall not provide any more spoilers and let these streets unfold themselves when you visit, and unfold they will, by the time you reach the end of their spiralling alleys.

Something else, not quite as widely discussed, is the lack of English spoken, even smack-bang in the middle of the most touristic Bangkok! Contrary to what one would expect, hardly anyone speaks any English and even more worrisome – hardly anyone understood any! On our way from Pattaya (which by the way I strongly recommend for all sorts of adrenaline pumping sports at the cheapest possible price) we were horded on a bus, half-asleep and knackered, amongst other things, on our way back to Bangkok. After what seemed like hours, we were woken up by a sudden change in the noise level outside and upon looking out the window, I realised we had arrived. Just to be certain, I walked up to the bus driver to enquire if we were near the Paragon shopping mall (where we were to be reunited with my brother and his wife) to which, he stepped on the brakes, causing a jolt, which almost threw me off my feet, to start wildly pointing at a big shopping mall across the street, shouting all the time ‘get down, shopping mall! Get down!’. I could not confirm the name of the shopping mall from where we were parked but the driver’s wild enthusiasm and urgency convinced me. We grabbed our bags and got down indeed!

It took us a five-minutes walk to the shopping centre and back to realise it was a shopping mall alright, just the wrong one! But that was the least of our concerns when after consulting several people off the street, half of whom responded with a curt ‘no English!’, we arrived at the conclusion that we were not even in Bangkok yet! Thus, began an epic journey back to Bangkok, involving three modes of transportation – a motorbike, a bus and a cab.

After reading off some signs, it became apparent, that the last bus leaving from that spot was the one we took and got off and further investigation left us with no choice but to do a tripling with an agreeable gentleman willing to drop us off to the next bus stop on his motorbike! The fact that my feet were almost crushed under the weight of my husband’s (who was totally oblivious to it) is another story altogether but the risk that my seating posed at that moment, threatening to recoil my body, I was wondering, considering the speed of the vehicle, how long after I actually flew off, they would finally realise that I was airborne!

We eventually did make it back to Bangkok and were reunited with my family, after much ado, but what followed left me drained and distressed! But let me talk about the Aussie pubs first, which had become as much a tourist attraction in Bangkok, amongst other things such as the mobile bars (Sky blue, our favourite, made some of the best cocktails!), beautiful outdoor restaurants with live music and some really good clubs. To relieve some tension, we first dropped into one of these Aussie joints to rub shoulders with our fellow mates, drink a schooner and enjoy some footy on tele! Shortly after, we stepped out for a real stress-buster: a Thai massage!

After inspecting quite a few frightful massage parlours, we walked to the more decent part of town (if there is such a thing in Bangkok) to find one that quite ticked all the boxes. We did everything but explicitly state that we were there literally for a stress release, I mean, a tension reliever, I mean – oh you know what I mean – strictly no euphemism in use! Anyway, to our surprise, the women even seemed to understand and speak proper English. We had started to relax a bit at that stage and decided to request that the four of us be placed right in the vicinity of each other, preferably within eye and ear shot. During the subsequent foot massage and change of clothes, when we finally settled on our individual mattresses, separated by curtains and parallel to each other, as requested, I suddenly realised, we were a man down! I sneaked a peek on either side of me to find both my brother and his wife, but where was my husband?! To my dismay, right at that minute, we started hearing what sounded like a brawl downstairs, with a male voice protesting! My brother found that inopportune moment to crack a joke about my man being dragged downstairs for a happy ending – whether he liked it or not, which absolutely did nothing to help matters. I was ready to pass out in distress, when finally the missing person turned up to explain he was taken to the room next door because he requested an oil massage that required a different kind of bedding, as opposed to our dry ones and the masseuse herself has made it clear, that they indeed did not offer any ‘other kinds of services’!

The next morning, still laughing at our escapades from the day before, we sampled some of the best, grilled skewers of meat, spiced mussels and Thai styled omelette and then took our tastebuds to indulge into an amazing buffet, under a shed, sharing with local cab-drivers and policemen, some amazing local delicacies! And in case, I tire you with food descriptions and do not get to build a case to mention it again, I tasted one of the best chicken shwarmas of my life in Bangkok as well! Strange but true. And once we were fed until our stomachs could not contain anymore, we jumped into a cab, to leave the city behind to explore the elephant park, floating markets and most importantly, Ayutthaya. 

Start of the Sabbatical: KL

"Where is Home? Is it where my friends are waiting - on the face of a half-fried eggplant, inside a pot of beef 'rezala', next to the ashtray with its half-lit cigarette, the house with our old furnitures, the garage with our lifelong belongings packed in 12 boxes, where our old car is parked, in the lenses of our old canon 550D?

Or is it in my mum's every home-cooked meal, the piano that does not sing, in the laughter of all family weddings, in the crinkly smile of a long-lost friend, in the rusty paint of the old school building?

Or is it here - in motion - inside the static train that is taking my partner and I to discover the unknown?Mostly I think it exists somewhere between whatsapp messages and skype chats."

This was the first junction, amongst other randomly selected cities, of my four months self-anointed sabbatical. I say junction because two of my friends flew in on the same night from Singapore to spend a couple of days with us here before giving us the big heave-ho to see the rest of the world. This was not my first visit to Kuala lumpur or as locals call it KL(pronounced 'Kay El') and definitely would not be the last.

I just want to mention something here (without wandering off too much from the main course of events that I very often tend to) but this city really does hold a special place in my heart - one that of warmth and adoration. I love the entire package – pollution, humidity, lack of hygiene in the street food – the works. I could never explain the unfathomable sense of belonging with the filth of old Dhaka, dinginess of the old town in KL or the creepy alleyways of old Delhi and why I would hold these places more dearly in comparison to the crisp picturesque sight of any European city I explored later. But like an old friend had once said – it is all about a deep-rooted familiarity and nostalgia that majorly reigns over our subconscious and that for a slum dog millionaire there is more mysticism and solace in the slums rather than the millions acquired much later!

My first proper trip to Malaysia was that full of hesitation and trepidation and even though it was the longest I had spent in the country, it did little to arouse any emotion. I was meeting my in-laws-to-be on a family-focused trip at that time and though geographically covered many locations, the five or six trips made later in KL was when I truly breathed in its surroundings. 

What struck me most when I first embarked upon this bustling city was the speed with which it was growing, expanding and on the verge of being completely transformed. This is the best part about travelling in a city that is still far from being developed. When I started travelling through Europe much later, this was the one nagging comparison that never left me in peace. The lack of a heartbeat, the lack of a bloodstream that intercept with your own in a developing country and pumps adrenaline every so often. But I shall get to that comparison later. KL’s heartbeat lies in its dynamic skyline, the proliferation of the skyscrapers and the metamorphosis from old to new that the landscape seems to hang between. 

There are many things about KL that most people who have visited seems to agree on however, only one or two others beside me seems to have discovered it’s amazing potential as a shopping paradise. After touring around Malaysia’s neighbouring countries for several years, particularly Thailand, I have come to this conclusion that the value for money is incomparable. If your shopping expedition in any Asian countries is focused on fake items, that do not even resemble the original in an acceptable fashion and would give up on you within months, then by all means go to Thailand and the likes. However, if you want to step into the biggest mall in the country, secure in the company of thousand travellers like yourself, under air-conditioned conditions, walk into actual retail outlets of Chanel and Burberry and still come out paying 40-50% less than anywhere else, now that’s what I call a bargain! One of many reasons why we frequented our visits to KL from Sydney was so I could reap the full benefit of this opportunity, resulting in 90% of the shoes, bags and other branded accessories in my wardrobe to be Malaysian purchased. This seems to be the best kept secret of KL.

Like any of its other Asian counterparts, the freedom of being able to roam around the city and most importantly to succeed to find an activity, after what is known to the rest of the world as an acceptable hour in the night, is a feat on its own. I have always considered sleeping as one of the most fatal weaknesses of mankind and furthermore with a strange tendency to feel most alive after midnight always expose me to different levels of frustration in my daily life. It is probably not recommended or the safest thing to do, however, we have taken our little walkabouts in the dead of the night and found the spirit of the city tamed and almost extinguished however not completely diminished.

On a bright and sunny day, while the occasional drizzle plays tug-of-war with the sun unsuccessfully, we love to venture out to Bukit Bintang. Now this is probably my favourite hang-out spot in all of KL owing to the buzz in the air, the layout of the place and the experience. For me, when I choose to travel to an Asian country, this is what I sign up for – the hawker style eateries! The entire place is laid out on either side of a massive street lined up with rows and rows of stalls with plastic chairs and tables sprawled across and colourful blown-up pictures of every possible culinary delicacy (both Malay and Chinese) on offer from pipis in xo sauce, calamari, mussels, whole steamed/grilled fish, giant prawns to other common local items like tom-yum soup and chicken satay. I would strongly recommend at least one piece of a freshly cut fruit, in particular if you can stand the strong sickly odour then definitely try Durian. The best part about these hawker-style food joints is that it gives you the same feeling as sitting at a sushi train or going to a Chinese restaurant for yum-cha - completely changes the definition of a culinary experience by making the meal a lot more than just about food. Imagine you grab a table at random just about anywhere, choose food from practically any of the stalls and get the same person to fetch it for you and pay as you go!

One time my Malay-Singaporean friend, who I mentioned earlier, and I were wandering inside the KLCC Petronas tower when I noticed a lot of heads turning twice in my direction in a fashion that caused neither flattery nor offence. When I turned for a more local opinion on the matter, I realised both the advantage and disadvantage of having an Indian appearance in countries like Malaysia (and from my experiences later in Dubai) for the risk of being mistaken for and judged as a local. While travellers with Caucasian appearance are expected to dress and act in a certain way, my appearance indicating one and mannerism another, seemed to throw them off a little. Beside the large number of mosques around the city and the blaring prayer calls originating from them as a result, it was the only other reminder to the fact that I was in fact in a Muslim country. In general, however, Malaysians make me feel exactly the same way as any other Asian nation. While they may not be as welcoming and happy-go-lucky as their Indonesian counterparts, they have the same no-nonsense, not-interfering attitude as say in Singapore or Hong Kong, which I find really comforting. It is liberating being you, asking silly questions without being self-conscious or be at a risk of getting swindled. 'Little India' however, the area vastly populated by South-East Asians mostly from India, Pakistan and Bangladesh was a little distressful as I constantly attracted the wrong kind of attention from shopkeepers. In fact my very good friend in question almost sold me to one of them, too absorbed over the negotiation of a hand-bag!

  

When you watch the tourism advertisements for Malaysia, it hardly gives you any inclination to what KL is really like except for the breath-taking sight of the twin-towers perhaps but for me this fond little city has so much more to offer than what meets the eye in a jiffy. It is one of those places you must visit for new experiences all in culinary, olfactory and perceptible terms. Two things pending on my must-do list for KL includes experiencing the more unconventional ‘Underground supper club’ that has created raging waves in recent times, revolutionising the dining scenario and taking it homebound - just may be not your own. Second on my precious list is to try the authentic ‘Beggar’s chicken’ somewhere in the outskirts of KL. This clay-encased chicken dish is dug up from a smouldering pit and served in a wheelbarrow after which the waiter has to hammer through the clay covering to unearth (quite literally!) apparently the most beautiful, aromatic chicken! These and so much more is waiting to be discovered - cannot wait to revisit!