A Few Hours In Malaysia

For a number of reasons, I had a two-stopover trip to Taiwan from Mumbai. Following a five-hour trek down from the plateaus of Panchgani to the mega-city, I camped at the airport with my friends before departing on an overnight flight to Kuala Lumpur.**

The flight itself was memorable if nothing else. As we boarded the plane at 11:55pm, we secretly told the cabin crew of the Malaysian Airlines (an airline I will now officially endorse) flight that one of our friends would actually be celebrating her birthday at midnight. We asked if they could do something special for her. Sure enough, when we were just airborne, the captain made his usual flight announcements and then wished our friend a happy birthday over the intercom. This led to an uproarious version of “Happy Birthday”, which we sang several time and was later repeated by all the flight attendants. The cabin crew supervisor gave her some sweets and even two bottles of wine! Amazing. Into her sixties, my friend could not believe the whole scene and beamed one of the most genuine birthday smiles I’ve ever seen.

Of course, the excitement eventually subsided into relaxation and after dinner I settled into watching “Eagle Eye” before trying to nod off in the late night hours. It turned into fruitless search as my mind buzzed with a million thoughts of my upcoming trip to Taiwan, Hong Kong and China and beyond that. Exhausted, I deboarded the plane at 7:30 in the Malaysian morning, cleared immigrations, loaded up my bags and walked into the swollen humidity outside.

I would still need to take two more flights in the day, but we had an 8-hour layover and my friend Cheng had spoken to her friend Kei-Kei who offered to pick us up and show us around KL. In a flash, we were in his SUV and flying towards the capital. It’s been three years since my last visit to KL, but the palm plantations and hazy air felt familiar and as the city came into view it seemed like a memory coming alive.

I have a fondness for Kuala Lumpur primarily because I met my good friend Jeff there at the tail end of my long trip to Asia a few years back. Over long correspondence we had agreed to cross paths as he was setting out on a solo backpacking adventure and I was finishing mine. He had the brilliant foresight to book us a hotel and smiled thinking of our night of reunion when I laid on a comfortable bed and watched a baseball game before he arrived and we sipped tiger beer in the street sharing stories in the late evening heat.

I’d seen the city before and I was happy to pass by some of the old sight-seeing hotspots, but I felt a kind of joy when I arrived in the Chinese district where I met Jeff on the hot August night two-an-a-half years ago. I saw the rows of hawkers under the plastic waving the plastic ceiling. I remembered the place where I saw the biggest rat I’ve ever seen in my life. The exotic smells that make up an open-air market. The old hotel, the tea stalls and the knock-off shoes.

The expedition was perfectly timed. It was the last day of the Chinese New Year celebrations and we caught the excitement of three traditional lion dances. And Kei-Kei went out of his way for us to dine on all available market cuisine. From rice milk drinks and nuts to Chinese buns and coffee we ate our way down the streets before rollingback to the airport for our onward flight to Hong Kong.

Without question, Kei-Kei’s attention made a lasting impression on me and the others along for the ride. I’ve been on the receiving end of some incredibly generous hospitality in my life (often feeling quite undeserved), but Kei-Kei really went out of his way to pick us up (an hour out of town), show us around and make us feel that we’d really been to his hometown. When we asked why he made such an effort, he said that he had traveled to Taiwan a few months back and been treated so well that he wanted to make sure that if anyone was coming to KL, he would give them the same kind of care and attention. It must have been some trip to Taiwan.

My companions and I were so touched by the spirit that we made a mutual commitment to pay that sentiment forward and take up the challenge of being equally gracious hosts when given the next opportunity.

We wished Kei-Kei a cheerful goodbye at the terminal. True to form, he gave us one final gift, handing each of us a red envelope, the traditional gift given to celebrate the Chinese New Year. Inside was a small coin that signified good luck for our upcoming journeys.

** I’ve developed a theory that because Americans developed flight technology and pioneered the subsequent commercial air business, they [and perhaps reasonably so] picked out the best departure and arrival times to which the rest of the world had to adjust. Given their considerable sway in terms of capital, Europe managed to get in on this as well, pushing countries like India to the margins. Therefore, whenever you leave or arrive into India, its almost always at some ridiculous hour like two in the morning. Of course, to this theory I will add the “camp corollary”, which basically states that the kid who shows up in the cabin first gets to pick whatever bunk he wants. Tough luck for everyone else and “stay off my bunk!”