Buy local

So I’ve been trying to think of grocery shopping as “An Adventure!” (caps and punctuation intended) instead of as the real beating that it seems to be too often (sometimes literally; you should see how these people elbow each other out of the way just to get their fruit and veggies weighed and priced in the produce section! I need hockey pads! Just kidding. Sort of. But let’s be honest: grocery shopping is a beating no matter where you are when you have two whiny toddlers in tow!). But today in particular I had one of those “I cannot believe how complicated this has to be” moments while shopping. I braved the frozen food section in the grocery store (a Carrefour, a French retailer that is like a SuperTarget or a Meijer; we shopped a lot at the ones in Kuala Lumpur) and I found something that I think is pork-stuffed dumplings, based on the picture on the package. The only English on the package says “Freezing for Fresh” and “Chives-Prok Vareniki”. So I’m hoping the “prok” is just a typo and not some Indian dish with which I am unfamiliar that actually means chicken feet, or pig eyeballs or something. But I was excited to find the dumplings, thinking “We like these and they will be easy enough to prepare with the limited utensils that I currently have in my kitchen. But we’ll need some soy sauce to go with them.” I was headed to the aisle where I thought I would find the oils and sauces and just had to laugh when it occurred to me that there might not be any English on the bottles. How will I know what to choose? As the default solution came to me, “When in doubt, buy the imported version”, I had to laugh out loud: I am standing in a grocery store in China and am contemplating buying the imported version of soy sauce? I think it’s time to break out of the bubble, Jack!


The good news is that there were a few brands that had enough English on the labels that I was even able to find a low sodium version! (At least I think it is…) And to boot I found a bottle of some black pepper sauce that sounds really interesting and I am looking forward to trying that out. A reward for my willingness to be intrepid! Now I just need to brave the rice cooker that came with the house… which I guess would mean braving the rice aisle at the store as well.

It’s funny though how you come to rely on certain conventions. For instance green on the coffee packaging always means decaf, right? Grab the green one. (I think the blue labels here are decaf, at least on the Nescafe, but can’t be sure so I guess if after a few days of the blue stuff I’m bouncing off the walls and up all night I will know my assumption was wrong!) Well, now that I have my purchase home I realize that there is no English on the label of the bottle of soy-sauce that I bought. But it’s green, and green means the low-sodium version in the states. Did I actually read that on the label of the larger bottle in the store, or did I subconsciously grab that one because it’s what I would have bought back home? Things that make you go “hmmm”. I guess soy-sauce is soy sauce; quit over thinking everything? Is it obvious to you all yet that I haven't got enough to occupy my mind these days?...

A belated Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to you all. Best wishes for a happy, prosperous and peaceful 2011.

One Week in China

(Foreword: Yes, we have been here more than a week, but apparently the site I use to Blog is blocked by the "Great (Fire) Wall”. Tech savvy as I am not, it has taken me awhile to understand the proxy set up, but thanks to my wonderful husband we have finally tunneled in and can join the rest of the world on the entire world wide web! Looking forward to reporting in on a regular basis. Love to you all~) 

Hi Everyone,

When it first became clear that we would be moving longer term to China, not KL, I thought “Well, I guess I’ll have to change the name of the blog!” But actually I see this as an extension of the original adventure to Malaysia so I guess I can let the name stand (and then I can avoid the logistics and technical issues of assigning it a new address!) Hard to believe we’ve been here a whole week already, so I thought now might be a good time to send an update.

Simply getting everyone to check-in at O’Hare seemed to be the most complicated part of this journey. Having sold both cars before we left Indy, we already had 1 rental car and fearing that we would not fit all of our luggage, us, the car seats and Barney in his crate into one vehicle, we had 2 for the drive to Chicago and the airport. But then came the fun of trying to get the cars returned to Avis, but all of the luggage, car seats, kids and Barney to Check-in in time for an 8 am check-in for a 10 am flight. Couldn’t exactly see us putting Barney’s crate on the rental car shuttle. It took a bit of round-robin with cell-phone lots and shuttles and me hanging out in the terminal with the kids while Heinz returned the second car, but at least that gave me the opportunity to pack the last car seat in the warmth of the terminal; it was bitter cold, windy and rainy and I had to have poor Viv with me at the car return while I stood beside the car and packed her seat. For me, that is the worst part of modern travel, the logistics of the car seat!  But we made it in time, got Barney checked in, handed him off to the airlines and made our way to the gate.

I’m still so grateful that this trip was only one plane. Those 3-plane trips to Malaysia were a real beating. We had 1 window seat, which was a lot of fun for Conrad and he and Heinz actually saw Barney get loaded onto the plane. I sat behind them, holding Viv. Thankfully there were empty seats on the plane and the attendant was able to move the older gentleman next to us up a few rows (he spoke no Mandarin, only Cantonese so they had to find a crew member who did as well) so Viv had her own seat. I was so grateful! These days my Restless Leg really plagues me on these trips, especially because at that point I was already pretty sleep deprived and fatigue always exacerbates the condition. So anyway, the 14 hour flight was pretty uneventful; we all fell asleep right away and the kids stayed asleep for at least about 5 hours. The flight was pretty smooth, those big planes usually are but both Heinz and I could not stop thinking about poor Barney the whole time, wondering how he was doing, what he must have been thinking about the whole thing.

We arrived at about 2 in the afternoon, local time, 1 in the morning Indy time. The agent we hired to help us through the quarantine process had already collected Barney and met us with him at baggage claim. He seemed none the worse for wear, a little wide eyed, but if he could speak to me I think he would have said “What the hell was that?? I am not looking at you; I am not looking at you. I am so mad at you; I am not looking at you!” But we were able to spend a few minutes with him at the quarantine office and it really was sad when we had to say good bye to him again. He looked at us as if to say “Are you kidding me? You’re leaving me again???” 

We collected our bags and met our driver, Bian, who started driving for Heinz when he was here last month, and headed home. I had seen a similar house to ours on our recon mission last August so I pretty much knew what to expect. It’s a 3 bed, 3 ½ bath, study and once our stuff arrives, I will be able to download some pictures, as the cable to link my camera with the computer accidentally got packed with the stuff the movers took. Oh well, so far it seems as if that is the only critical thing that got put in the wrong pile. (Unless you ask Conrad about some of the toys he is missing!) And speaking of our stuff, it should arrive in 30-60 days. In the meantime we are living with a few pieces of rented furniture and only what we could fit in our suitcases, including boots, snowsuits and some Christmas things. It’s like a very un-fun version of camping. The thing I am missing the most is storage solutions. At the moment too many things are just sort of piled in corners because we haven’t got the furniture, or bins or shelves to corral them, but certainly won’t buy more as ours will be here soon enough (but not soon enough, if you know what I mean!) So we make do. (Aunt Vickie and Uncle Norm, I think of you SOOO often, and all of the travel you did over the years!)

Having a driver is definitely a luxury I can get used to! One of my biggest problems adjusting to life in Malaysia was that I-am-a-prisoner-in-my-own-home feeling I got from not having the courage right away to drive on the other side and not knowing where to go, anyway. But the kids and I have already gotten out quite a bit. We went to Ikea! Having never actually been to one of their stores, that was great fun for me, especially with my current, nagging, storage-solutions envy! And I found a music class for expat kids and made a friend already! That is the beauty of the expat community, I think: everyone is so quick to say “Come to our house and play; call me anytime.” We’re all in this together. The woman who runs the class is Swedish and her husband is Swiss, so that was an immediate bond for us. It will be a bit difficult at this time of year to find fun activities for the kids because most expat-centered activities are shutting down for a Christmas break but there are also an aquarium, a zoo and a few other places that look like interesting ways to pass a day with the kids. And with a driver, I can get to them so easily! I already feel miles ahead of where I was for the first few months in Malaysia.

I still have not yet made any progress with my Mandarin skills. Conrad already knows more words than I do: I know 2, he knows 3! Which is how many Heinz knows! But the kids have found a Chinese cartoon channel to watch. They’ll be fluent before I know it! (Yes, I’m joking.)We’ll have to find a babysitting solution before I can reasonably pursue lessons. Working on that.

We’ve checked out most of the grocery stores that stock western goods. The selections aren’t too bad but until I can start reading labels, I think we will go broke on groceries! The imported stuff is so expensive! Shortly before we left Indy, I read an article on literacy in Indiana that talked about the plight of the illiterate, citing the possibility of buying a can of Crisco, thinking it is cookies, and being shocked to get home, open it and find it full of lard! Well, that is me at this stage, really. I’m not even comfortable buying things based on the pictures on the package. It’s frustrating but it does give me a place to focus my energies when I start language lessons, I guess. I am still so overwhelmed by the sheer scope of the characters. And I guess it also gives me a good excuse to order delivery! There is a great service called Sherpas, served by about 40 restaurants; call one number and tell them which restaurant, which items and it’s delivered to your door! The leasing agent had given us their catalog when we were here in August and we’ve done it twice already and the food has been pretty good. And no dishes to wash! Especially since the dishwasher doesn’t seem to work. Or else we just don’t know how to make it work, since it’s naturally all in Chinese. Like the washing machine. Heinz asked me if I had figured out how to use it and I said “Well, I just turn it on and hope for the best.” And he said “So? That’s how I’ve been doing laundry for years!” Men. Our option for learning how to use the equipment in the house is to take a picture of the control panel, e-mail it to the agent and have her translate it for us. Too bad the camera cable is packed…

So Barney arrived home yesterday from his 7 day quarantine. He seems perfectly fine, he isn’t even smelly, and Heinz and I laughed because the agent said he had received 2 walks a day. When he saw us he probably thought “well, here we go again, the people who never walk me!” (When we were in KL our house sitters positively spoiled him with multiple walks a day, mostly to the local dog bakery. The big joke was that when we returned from KL, I thought he would be so happy to see his family again but I swear he would have said “not you people! I want to be with the people who treat me like an only child again!”) It’s going to be quite hard on him because he’s still basically under house arrest for 23 days. And we’re still not exactly sure what the requirements are for the home quarantine, simply the directions “do not meet other dogs.” There’s also a license issue that we need to be sure we understand (something about them only issuing so many a year, and not issuing any more this year?) Even when we can get out it will be a bit difficult to walk him to the degree that we did in Indy (when we were able!), our neighborhood outside the compound at first glance doesn’t exactly seem to invite a pedestrian stroll, but we’ll figure it out. I’ve seen 2 golden retrievers and one Mastiff in the neighborhood so maybe we can have playdates with some of those dogs here eventually. He definitely misses his buddies from the ‘hood back home! One thing he will definitely learn to love, I think, is the heated floor we have in the living room. Even I want to lie down there sometimes as it starts to get colder! In the meantime I am trying to teach him to relieve himself in only one part of the yard. Wish me luck with that!

Regarding the heated floor, Viv has sure gotten to like it. The other day we were up in the kids’ room and she needed her diaper changed so I was going to do it up there but she said no and pointed downstairs. Okay, so we went downstairs and I went into the dining room, where I keep the downstairs diaper stash and I turned around and she was waiting, spread-eagle on the living room floor!

Yesterday we also had our required physical exams as part of our entry into the country. Only Heinz and I had to do it, which was a relief after all the craziness with Viv’s swollen lymph node before we left and the wonder that it was going to cause problems if she had to have an entrance exam, too.  (BTW, all of her tests have come back negative and I actually think it is starting to shrink on it's own.) It’s quite an efficient set-up. There is a sign-in station, and then about 8 other stations where they check all vitals, eyesight, draw blood, do a thoracic x-ray and a thoracic sonogram. It was during the sonogram that the tech said “blah, blah, blah, gallstone, blah, blah, blah.” So apparently I have an asymptomatic gallstone. Hereditary? What d’you think, Mom? It will be interesting to see if we actually get a report back with health details or just a certificate that says we can stay in the country because we’ve been deemed healthy enough. Does one get kicked out of China for gallstones? Will keep you posted on that too. Might need a place to stay for 2 years if I do get denied!

So we’re settling in and finding our stride. We’ve had some bad days and some good. It’s a big city and has all the issues that go along with big city life: personal bubbles, also a very American concept, are not widely regarded here; queues are not widely adhered to, and the shopping carts have those funky wheels that turn every which way, making it a real challenge to push straight. Shopping is an adventure. But a woman with a stroller, 2 kids and a number of grocery bags is a universal symbol of distress, I think, and countless people have been more than willing to help us through some tight spots, finding a table in a crowded cafeteria, getting out through shopping turnstiles designed to keep the shopping carts in. I found this list on one of the expat sites and am trying to internalize it with varying degrees of success each day:

1 - Retain your sense of humour
2 - Remember that most people are basically good, and actually do want to help you. (Their idea of "help" may differ vastly from yours however, which is why (1) is so important.)
3 - It is better to be honest and open with people and be surprised if this is not returned, than to believe the worst and have your suspicions confirmed.
4 - Try everything available, within reason. Although possibly not stinky tofu.
5 - We all have 'bad China days'. The good news is they pass and there are some pretty damn good days as well. Try not to lose sight of that. 

Most of those points are applicable to anyone at anytime in any culture, but particularly relevant for me here and now.

We miss you all and think of you often, sending all of our love and best wishes to you from halfway around the world.

A Nightmare Come True (Previously titled "A Nightmare on Jalan Tropicana Utara (Tropicana Utara Street)"

10 days. I was so close. 10 more days incident free and I could have gotten home unscathed with my pride intact, even a little cocky maybe...

For the most part driving in KL, on the other side of the road, has become a bit of a non-issue. I have the places that I go, the familiar routes I drive, have even ventured to a few new places, gotten lost along the way and still found my way home. But for the most part I have stuck to the paths that I know. It sure simplifies things. And, unlike for those of you who have had to take a British car from the UK into Europe, or a European car into the UK, I will say that when you do actually sit on the other side of the car it does sort of set you up to be rebalanced, to make it a little less bizarre to be driving on the other side. Sure there is still the odd moment where, even when I am a passenger, as you look at the car ahead and there is no one sitting in the left-hand seat your brain shorts for a moment and you think "Oh my God, there is no one driving that car! Oh wait, we're not in Kansas." Or when you look at the car next to you and the person sitting in the left-hand seat is about 5 years old (we won't get into the child-restraint laws here, or lack thereof) or is lazily reading the paper. Even 6 months in, those moments still give me a "Wait...what?" reaction. And I can even admit that in the beginning there was once or twice where I was in the driver seat and Heinz was with me and if we stopped at a light (KL lights can be soooo long!) I actually forgot that I was the one driving. And when we didn't move with all of the other cars I looked for a split second to Heinz. Ooops!

But I had moved past all that and found a confidence level that enabled me to stray more often from the familiar routes. Heinz was out of town last week and I was feeling interpid: I was going to my girlfriend's house for the first time; new place, new route! The trip there was not without incident. I looked her building up on the map and got directions on Google Maps; seemed easy enough to get there. But when I got to her part of town I found that the street into and out of her neighborhood has been closed and is now a one-way street out. Now what?? Well she directed me in the back way by phone and I eventually found it and she explained to me that the road is closed because the person who owns that land has decided to restrict access. None of us could fathom why a city street would have been built on what appears to be private land but, again we are not in Kansas, this is KL with all of it's idiosyncracies and "charms". We had such a nice day. We spent the morning at her pool with another Mom friend. We had a great time, the kids played, we had lunch together and shared our Mom stories. And finally it was time to head home. So we said our goodbyes, made plans for the next day and the kids and I got in the car. We headed out of the parking lot and, after stopping at the guard shack to give back our visitor parking pass, that's when it happened, the thing I have been so afraid of all along: I pulled out onto the "American" side of the street. There are few things in the world worse than that moment of realization that you have made a horrendous mistake and there is nothing you can now do about it, except wait for impact. Luckily the oncoming traffic was light and the car in the nearest lane was far enough away that the collision was light, my front left bumper against his rear left quarter panel. But there was impact so I had to go face the music and take care of the situation. The other guy pulled off to the side and I had to turn around and go talk to him. It's really depressing how your brain can just stop functioning when you need it most. My first instinct of course was to call Heinz and luckily he was in a position, while in Singapore, to answer his phone. Hearing his voice at least did help to calm me down so I went to talk to the other driver and he actually did not speak English but luckily one of his passengers did at least well enough for us to exchange info. Insurance is really not all that common over here, I don't think, so basically everyone just exchanges information and handles it amongst themselves. So I got his information and I drove away and only then it occurred to me that I didn't really even look at the damage to his car, didn't get the make or model and didn't even copy down his license plate! As I said, it's as if your brain deserts you when you need it most! I guess the adrenalin just gets in the way and then all the nightmare images of what could happen next start flooding your brain: They are going to inflate the damages because all locals think Expats are rich! They're going to be really creepy people and they're never going to leave us alone...your mind can just go wild, can't it?
 So the kids and I headed home, adrenalin level slowly returning to normal. In the meantime, Heinz's first instinct was to contact his friend at work, Valentine, their office administrator and get her advice on the situation. I had planned a visit to her that evening anyway (her kids love Conrad and Vivienne and ask to have them visit as much as possible) so when I arrived she knew all about the situation. She has become like my little guardian angel, (I am lucky to have found a few here) and she had her husband call the guy and get a feel for the situation. It can probably make all the difference to have a local go to bat for you but it truly seems as if they are very reasonable people. Simply put, the fault is 100%  mine; I drove on the wrong side of the road! But as a foreigner it's hard not to feel really vulnerable. But I think it's all going to work out alright as far as not costing any more than absolutely necessary and hey, it's always great to get material for the blog, right? And most importantly, no one was hurt.

So like I said, 10 more days. If I had just remained unscathed for 10 more days I could have gone home bragging about my prowess driving on the other side of the road. Oh well. Maybe it's like that first scratch on the new car: now that I've actually had my worst nightmare come true and survived it, I'll be more daring to venture off the beaten path by myself. Surely I won't be making that mistake again? We'll have to keep you posted on that one...

Batu Caves

Batu Caves is a limestone hill, which has a series of caves and cave temples, just north of Kuala Lumpur. It takes its name from the Sungai Batu or Batu River, which flows past the hill. Promoted as a place of worship in the late 1800's, the cave is one of the most popular Hindu shrines outside India. Dedicated to Lord Murugan, it is the focal point of the Hindu festival of Thaipusam in Malaysia. The limestone forming Batu Caves is said to be around 400 million years old.
We had heard a lot of conflicting reports about the value of a visit to this oft promoted local attraction but since it is so close by and we had time on a Saturday afternoon, we decided to make a pilgrimage ourselves.


The entrance to the temple complex; the colors and carvings on the gate are very typical of Indian or Hindu temples.

Daddy and Conrad prepare for the journey.

272 steps up....The gold statue is the world's tallest (140 ft. tall) of Lord Murugan. It is covered in 300 litres of gold paint, brought from Thailand.

This is one of the shrines at the base of the steps. Most of the adjacent shrines relate the story of Lord Murugan's victory over the demon Soorapadam. Aparently the Hindus believe big bellies are good; maybe after 42 years as a Catholic it's time for me to become a Hindu...I fit the part.

Up we go.

Apparently the 6 mile run I did that morning wasn't enough: I had the dumb idea that this should be done with a 24 pound baby strapped to one's chest. Thankfully when we got to the top we found this instruction:

(I'm liking this Hindu idea more and more...)
The cave is quite large and as such is difficult to photograph but here is a view of the entrance.

One walks through the main cave to additional caves at the other end.

There really isn't much to see. The temples that have been constructed are small and simple. And quite dirty and poorly kept, it seemed to us.  But the monkeys are plentiful (I feared these children might be carried off if they didn't hand out their peanuts fast enough)

and the sunshine was beautiful as it shown through the chimneys in the ceiling.

Time to head back down. What an amazing view; impossible to imagine how much it has changed over the last 120 years.

It was really surprising how dirty the site was, considering it is such a sacred place. In their defense, Thaipusam, the festival commemorating the occasion when Parvati gave Murugan a vel (spear) so he could vanquish the evil Soorapadman, was recently celebrated. As the festival often attracts over one million devotees and tens of thousands of tourists, I can imagine that it might take a little while to get the house back in order, but much of the trash and debris around looked more like the sort of everyday housekeeping that just was not getting done.
As a whole, if you are planning an itinerary to visit KL, (I know, I am always lobbying for visitors!), unless you are Hindu and a fan of Murugan, or you are just really needing to climb 272 stairs on a really hot day, I would skip this one. And go to Kuala Gandah instead!

More of Mr. Conrad's neighborhood: Our local "wet" market and the Twin Towers

In my last post I pointed out the building that houses our local wet market.

It's quite well known throughout the city and as such can make it quiet easy to describe for people where we live. If we say "It's near the TTDI wet market" most locals, and even some expats, know immediately where we are. I have to say, and some of you can help me out here, that I'm having trouble thinking of an American City that has a wet market, or at least one that is well known. I'm sure many of the larger ones do but it just seems to be a concept that has really gotten lost in the American urban scene.  We have Farmers' Markets but that's really not the same, is it? The Farmers' Markets generally don't have full butcher shops or seafood shops. According to Wikipedia, in such markets, "the floors and surroundings are often routinely sprayed and washed with water—to the extent of flooding it at frequent intervals—which gave it the name 'wet market' ". Historically vendors at such markets kept livestock and patrons could chose their animal and watch the slaughter/butchering, if they so chose. Thankfully that does not happen here. I don't think I could set foot inside if that were the case. My Australian neighbor and I laughed that we can't bring ourselves to purchase meat there (not enough ice involved for our industrialized tastes) but then we had to acknowledge that this market probably supplies all of the restaurants in this neighborhood so if we eat locally, really what's the difference? (The difference is that sometimes we just don't want to know....) Although we have walked through late in the afternoon and there is a certain vendor that has racks of lamb still hanging in the heat, and the flies, even at 2 or 3 in the afternoon. I need to remind myself that mankind has existed for hundreds of thousands of years before the advent of ice, but again, my western, industrialized sensibilities are what they are. Hard to let go sometimes. I do bet though that it could be really great to buy such fresh fish, but I for one have always been very intimidated by cooking fish: what to choose, how to cook it...I have a filet knife at home in Indy and I really do hope some day to learn to use it.

For the most part we shop there to buy fresh vegetables and fruits. There is generally a very nice selection and almost all of the vendors are very friendly, many of them playing with Vivienne and giving Conrad a small orange or banana. I say most because at the beginning we often shopped at one of the largest stalls. One day I bought about 13 ringgit worth of fruit, gave the woman a 50 (which is about 15 USD) and she gave me change as though I had given her 20. I did the math in my head again, and then again just to be sure that I was right, and when I pointed it out to her, she looked at me over her glasses, very matter of factly reached into her till and handed me the remaining 30 ringgit and went on to the next customer. Her entire demeanor said "if you're smart enough to figure it out then I will give it back to you". She never even pretended to have made an honest mistake. Needless to say, we don't shop at that stall anymore, but that certainly is not specific to any culture. Anyway, it lead us to be more loyal to some of the friendlier vendors, even if the prices are a little higher.

One of the most interesting aspects for me though about this particular wet market, is the building itself. I have been to Albuquerque a few times in my life and every time I felt as though I had wandered onto the set of a bad alien movie: the architecture looks like it landed out of the sky. That being said, I feel as though our wet market belongs in Albuquerque. This is a view of it from the pedestrian bridge over the main street nearby.

It's basically built like a pyramid, why I can't imagine, there is no historical significance for the shape in Asian architecture, and it just makes me laugh everytime I look at it. This shot also gives you a good view of the trees that one finds on the medians everywhere. They in turn look like something out of a Dr. Suess book! As a whole the landscaping throughout the city is truly beautifully done, quite meticulous but you never, ever see anyone working on it! It does make it nice to drive around.

As I have a few more minutes of Conrad-free time, I'll include some more information on our extended neighborhood. Just a few neighborhoods away is a great little Indian restaurant/food court.

The food is served on palm leaves and you eat it with your hands in the traditional style. And the food was delicious! We did at least get Conrad (aka Mr. Picky) to eat some rice. He finally had an opportunity where he was allowed to eat with his hands and he chose to use his spoon. He is 3 after all...such a contrary age. Napkins aren't generally provided it seemed, but there is a sink in the corner where everyone washed their hands after their meal.

Of course Kuala Lumpur is best known internationally for it's twin towers, the Petronas Towers.

We have not taken the time to go up to the observation deck (it can be an arduous process where one has to show up early to buy tickets to go later in the day, kind of like at the Leaning Tower of Pisa, when they do let people climb it) but we did spend a day in the park that is part of the complex. It is very large and has water features, a jogging trail, a children's wading pool and an enormous playground.

Daddy and Conrad at the towers

They sure are tall...

One of the awesome sculptures in the park. (The Aquarium is also part of the complex.)

View of the towers from the playground

Help! One of the scary tropical trees got Daddy!

Again, I fear that I am confounding Blogspot with the number of pictures in this post so I will wrap this up until the next time. I hope you have enjoyed your visit~

Mr. Conrad's Neighborhood

We thought it might be fun to give you a glimpse into what our world looks like over here. Foreign countries have a way of looking so, well, foreign, in ways that are often so completely unique yet hard to describe so we'll show you some pictures of our immediate neighborhood.

We showed you some photos of our fabulous view in some of our earlier reports so we won't brag on that again here. Instead, this is our building.

This is the gournd floor commercial area

These are views from our building. (Note the odd pyramid shaped building across the street from the big construction site. That is our local wet market but we'll get into that later.)

Conrad on our 16th floor playground.

                                      

This is what a typical commercial block looks like with shops, restaurants on the ground floor, and a mix of offices, businesses and apartments above.

There are a lot of high rise apartment buildings throughout the city but there are also a lot of single family homes. A few are semi-detached, even fewer are single houses but the majority are attached row houses that also have a very specific look to them. Most are 2 story, but instead of a front yard all have a gated yard in front with what is basically a motor court.

Some of them are really nice: modern, well-kept, like this one

Some have transformed the area in front into beautiful gardens, with koi pnds and bonsai trees but most are pretty much open air garages. As expected in every neighborhood, some are quite rundown but most are pretty average, like these .

and these

With all of the cars off of the street for Chinese New Year holiday recently, we finally noticed this on the corner just outside of our lobby.

 

Now that I have started running outside early in the mornings I often smell incense as I pass by so someone is making a regular offering. I think the plastic cover to the left of the temple houses supplies. These little temples are actually quite common; this pair is few streets away, near one of our favorite restaurants.

Also near our one of our favorite restaurants is this place:

The "Restoran" (Malay for restaurant) Extra Super Tanker. Everyone seems to know it but no one has ever eaten there. I do wonder if the chinese characters on the sign actually translate as such. We can't quite figure out what such a name could actually mean.

As noted before, Malaysia has a lot of rainforest, a lot of rainfall and is near the equator. Which means the plants and trees here are quite different than one might find in the states. These are some interesting trees near our building.

We pass this plant on our way to the park to meet the Mom's group and I always have this odd sense that it is going to reach out and snag one of my children a la Little Shop of Horrors

(No need to comment on Conrad outfit: he was happy, he left the house; what more could I ask for?) But if the plants don't get my children, perhaps the monkeys will.

We've had to fend them off more than a few times as they come looking to get our snacks. I'd swear some of them are big enough to carry off Vivienne.

This is the stream where we play at the park

And this is the sign that lets everyone know, in this Muslim country, that there is no kissing in the park!

They use the international traffic signs here so generally it is pretty easy to get around. Some of the local signs are still pretty self-explanatory. This one I get: children crossing, check; pedestrian crossing, check. But I was confused at first wether the last one was old people or aliens crossing. I haven't seen either at this intersection so maybe it's neither?

 

Seen near my favorite shopping center: (And no it does not make me afraid to shop there)

 

Thankfully I was not driving when we saw this one, but it was near Halloween.

The text says "Accident Area" but I wonder: is that because people are so distracted by the sign that they are driving off the road?

Blogspot seems very disturbed by the number of pictures I have included in this post so I think it is time to give it a rest. Good thing this spot is just around the corner...

The graphics just make me smile! We'll catch up with more soon, assuming Conrad lets me get on my computer again... 

Kuala Gandah - The Elephant Sanctuary

The more I learn about Malaysia, the more it continues to surprise me. It is such a small country and KL is so densely populated that I tend to think the whole country is that way. In fact much of the country is still virgin jungle: rainforest. The Indo-Malayan rainforests are the oldest in the world, making those in Africa and South America seem adolescent in comparison. Historically elephants were found in large numbers throughout the densely forested Malay Peninsula. However over the past 100 years the forests have steadily given way to agriculture for both food and cash crops, mostly palm plantations. Initially forest clearance paid no heed to the need for elephant corridors to allow for trans migration and this gave rise, as expected, to a considerable human-elephant conflict. With approx. 1300-1400 wild elephants estimated to live within peninsular Malaysia, the Malay authorities’ response was to set up the Elephant Management Unit in 1974 under the authority of the Department of Wildlife and National Parks. This unit has established the world renowned Kuala Gandah Elephant Conservation Centre. The unit has become highly specialized in elephant translocation in response to human elephant conflict, moving elephants to the eastern Malaysian states of Kelantan, Terengganu and Pahang where there is still a large amount of forest, some of which is protected as part of the vast Taman Negara National Park.


About 90 minutes drive from KL, the Taman Negara is spread out over 4,343 sq. km. (nearly 1700 sq. miles) of rainforest. Last week we had the awesome opportunity to spend a day in a portion of the reserve, at the Kuala Gandah sanctuary and meet the elephants.

The experience begins with a video documentary highlighting the plight of the elephants in Malaysia and the efforts of the Elephant Relocation team. While waiting for the day’s activities to start, we chatted with one of the workers who explained to us that they have trained a number of the elephants to assist with the relocation by acting basically as ambassadors for the relocation team. When a wild elephant is captured for relocation, the trained (“job” elephants, as they are called at the sanctuary) are brought in to help calm the confused animal in preparation for its travel. They work in pairs and the video footage of the team moving to stand on either side of the frightened evacuee, using their trunks to stroke and calm the poor thing is both amazing and heartbreaking. (Those of you who know me know it brought tears to my eyes.)

The elephants that actually reside at the sanctuary are mostly orphans. (The team does try to relocate families, or pods, as much as possible.) Some of them have very sad stories, as you can imagine: one is missing a foot due to a conflict with humans, one is a survivor of a tiger attack, but they seem to be well cared for and well-loved by the staff. While on the grounds we had the opportunity to feed the elphants:
grass to the smallest,

(click this link to see video of fearless Conrad feeding this cutie: http://www.shutterfly.com/video/myVideos.sfly?fid=3235dd89c50098c0cf4ab00f16ca9e1e)

peanuts to some of the medium sized ones,

and fruit to the biggest ones

(Conrad was trying to feed him the watermelon seeds too!)

I can't remember this one's name but she is 69 years old; elephants can live to be 80 years old

Conrad and Mommy went for a ride

I don't remember this little cutie's story but she was definitely the youngest at the sanctuary

The day ended with a swim in the river with the residents

(click this link for a video of this little adventure: http://www.shutterfly.com/video/myVideos.sfly?fid=f353044cf18ce42e5b2f2841c4d4a52e)

There is no entry fee to visit the sanctuary but a donation is requested. Per their website: "Although the Sanctuary receives funding from the Malaysian government via the Department of Wildlife & National Parks or DWNP, additional fundings from externally generated sources are always welcomed with open........trunks?" You can imagine the government funding doesn't cover all of their needs so should any of you feel inclined to help them out you can access them through the website : www.myelephants.org/donation.html