KL, beep beep, and other nasty things I have eaten

My apologies for being so horrible at keeping up with my blog. It's really difficult when you are moving around every couple of days and I haven't really had a consistent source of internet in over a week. 

     KL came and went way to fast. I should have known to spend some more time there. I feel like MB just got a little taste of it, but I didn't get the chance to see everyone I wanted to see. I also went through a tired-ness spell. The whole on-the-go part of the trip caught up with me and I did a lot of sleeping. 

     We hit up the good spots (except Jalan Ahlor (sp?). Saturday night we did the whole Changkat BB thing complete with street-side satey and a stop for late-late night mamak. Yummy. The next day we headed out with a friend of a friend J to go to Pasar Seni and China Town for some eats and a trip to the fish spa. Surprisingly, MB did not go crazy at the fish spa like I had anticipated. He very much enjoyed it and it made for a boring video, but I took one anyway. Next stop was the Polo Club, then out with some of A's friends around my old neighborhood. At this point I fell asleep in the middle of the party on a bench. It was one of those half sleeps, where I could hear everything, but was too tired to respond. I suppose I was there in spirit. We drank some good 'ol fashioned moonshine from Borneo and the peninsula. 

     The next day we ran a few errands, went to Batu Caves, hung out around Pavilion mall and I had my favorite meal of all time, banana leaf. A was kind enough to give us a ride to the airport the next morning (think 3am) and we set off for Hanoi. We JUST made the flight and I left my jacket at a coffee shop. By the time I got back it was MIA. I wasn't too disappointed as it was starting to get a few holes in it. 

     Arrival in Hanoi was a bit crazy. We got in this taxi because the bus system seemed a bit crowded for us to just hop on with all of our shit. The taxi man got pulled over or something as we just sat around near the airport for quite some time. However, we didn't really care because it was a fixed rate and the AC was running. We got to B, our host's, place after getting lost several times. He lives in a working/maybe middle class neighborhood in a tiny shop house. The bottom floor is a drink/cigarette shop and the top floor is one room with a bathroom. I could handle the close quarters for a night or so, but I was hot, tired, and homesick and generally feeling anti-social.

     B has self-taught himself English for only 4 months which I found to be quite impressive. It's funny because he can't really communicate some very basic things, but he can talk/give speeches about politics and the like. After talking to me for about a half hour, he decided that I wasn't that interesting and turned his attention to MB for the remainder of the trip. I was ok with this simply because I didn't have the energy to deal with it anyway. 

     Lunch was an experience to be had. This was not a lunch for the faint of heart...or lover of animals. I was thankful for the mom to cook for us, so I felt the need to at least try everything. Most of the dishes consisted of various pig parts and some chicken. Lots of intestine. I have no problem with this, as I've had quite a few of these types of things throughout my travels. However, when asked if we would eat blood, I simply said no, but I would try. So there it was, plopped down right in front of us next to the rest of the family style meal. A bright red bowl of semi-coagulated blood with bits of chopped bones and peanuts in it. My stomach flipped a little and then I inquired as to what animal this blood came from. Many of you have probably already figured out the answer to this one. The response? Dog. 

     Yes, there in front of me sat two men eagerly slopping up their bowlful of dog's blood. In order not to be rude, MB and I had agreed to try some. This is by far the first time in my life that I absolutely ate something that I nearly vomited by just putting near my mouth. It was by far the most vile, disgusting, and down-right disturbing thing I have ever done. I only had about a fifth of a spoonful, but the taste in my mouth lasted for days. It's one thing to eat dog meat, it's something completely different to drain the blood of an animal and then eat it. What you are eating quickly becomes much more obvious. What bothered me the most (besides that fact that I have yet to forgive myself) is that they treat the dogs as pets before they kill them. They let the dogs wander around and play with them, they are more friendly towards humans than the rest of the dogs I've encountered. 

     Since I'm on the topic of nasty food I'll let you know what other disgusting things I ate before I get to the good stuff. Another treat in these parts is boiled duck fetus, yes you heard me right, boiled...duck...fetus. And you have the pleasure of eating the whole thing, including the beak and newly forming feathers. It is supposed to be good for health but it goes under another item that makes me want to purge. Not nearly as bad as the blood though.

     Ok so enough negativity. We did eat some awesome things, although I'm convinced that B wanted to make us try all of the nasty foods one can experience in Hanoi. We had this snack called nem ram (pronounced 'nam zam') which we were told was wok-fried minced pork dipped in a spicy sauce. Although this is true, it is also fermented pork, but who gives a damn? It still tasted awesome. We also had bun cha, a soupy dish made with thin morsels of charcoal grilled pork. Tasty tasty. Yesterday we were on our own for food and found some tasty baguettes with sausage, fried egg, basil, and chili sauce. The French colonized around these parts so there is an influence that shows in the food. I also had a tasty noodle dish with what I believe (based on the animal next to the meat pieces) to be duck. 

     Aside from the usual site seeing and the like, we did learn a few things about this place. They don't dislike Americans here. In fact, they seem to have put the war behind them more easily than we have. All people just want peace and they also have a healthy distrust of government. They call their police 'yellow dogs' while we call them 'pigs' so a lot of same-same really. Life here is definitely difficult. There is not a lot of money and very little in terms of infrastructure. Although I will say it is a bit more developed than Java. Yes, crossing the street is a terrifying endeavor but it's ok once you get used to it. 

     Overall, Hanoi was 'tak best la' but I was expecting it to be. It is a city with an attitude like that of New York and blunt like I've been told Chinese cities can be. We were there as a starting point and the plan to head south after a few days worked out so we are on the path onwards.

I'll break this post and make our Ha Long Bay experience it's own thing...

-M                                  

My apologies for being so horrible at keeping up with my blog. It's really difficult when you are moving around every couple of days and I haven't really had a consistent source of internet in over a week. 

     KL came and went way to fast. I should have known to spend some more time there. I feel like MB just got a little taste of it, but I didn't get the chance to see everyone I wanted to see. I also went through a tired-ness spell. The whole on-the-go part of the trip caught up with me and I did a lot of sleeping. 

     We hit up the good spots (except Jalan Ahlor (sp?). Saturday night we did the whole Changkat BB thing complete with street-side satey and a stop for late-late night mamak. Yummy. The next day we headed out with a friend of a friend J to go to Pasar Seni and China Town for some eats and a trip to the fish spa. Surprisingly, MB did not go crazy at the fish spa like I had anticipated. He very much enjoyed it and it made for a boring video, but I took one anyway. Next stop was the Polo Club, then out with some of A's friends around my old neighborhood. At this point I fell asleep in the middle of the party on a bench. It was one of those half sleeps, where I could hear everything, but was too tired to respond. I suppose I was there in spirit. We drank some good 'ol fashioned moonshine from Borneo and the peninsula. 

     The next day we ran a few errands, went to Batu Caves, hung out around Pavilion mall and I had my favorite meal of all time, banana leaf. A was kind enough to give us a ride to the airport the next morning (think 3am) and we set off for Hanoi. We JUST made the flight and I left my jacket at a coffee shop. By the time I got back it was MIA. I wasn't too disappointed as it was starting to get a few holes in it. 

     Arrival in Hanoi was a bit crazy. We got in this taxi because the bus system seemed a bit crowded for us to just hop on with all of our shit. The taxi man got pulled over or something as we just sat around near the airport for quite some time. However, we didn't really care because it was a fixed rate and the AC was running. We got to B, our host's, place after getting lost several times. He lives in a working/maybe middle class neighborhood in a tiny shop house. The bottom floor is a drink/cigarette shop and the top floor is one room with a bathroom. I could handle the close quarters for a night or so, but I was hot, tired, and homesick and generally feeling anti-social.

     B has self-taught himself English for only 4 months which I found to be quite impressive. It's funny because he can't really communicate some very basic things, but he can talk/give speeches about politics and the like. After talking to me for about a half hour, he decided that I wasn't that interesting and turned his attention to MB for the remainder of the trip. I was ok with this simply because I didn't have the energy to deal with it anyway. 

     Lunch was an experience to be had. This was not a lunch for the faint of heart...or lover of animals. I was thankful for the mom to cook for us, so I felt the need to at least try everything. Most of the dishes consisted of various pig parts and some chicken. Lots of intestine. I have no problem with this, as I've had quite a few of these types of things throughout my travels. However, when asked if we would eat blood, I simply said no, but I would try. So there it was, plopped down right in front of us next to the rest of the family style meal. A bright red bowl of semi-coagulated blood with bits of chopped bones and peanuts in it. My stomach flipped a little and then I inquired as to what animal this blood came from. Many of you have probably already figured out the answer to this one. The response? Dog. 

     Yes, there in front of me sat two men eagerly slopping up their bowlful of dog's blood. In order not to be rude, MB and I had agreed to try some. This is by far the first time in my life that I absolutely ate something that I nearly vomited by just putting near my mouth. It was by far the most vile, disgusting, and down-right disturbing thing I have ever done. I only had about a fifth of a spoonful, but the taste in my mouth lasted for days. It's one thing to eat dog meat, it's something completely different to drain the blood of an animal and then eat it. What you are eating quickly becomes much more obvious. What bothered me the most (besides that fact that I have yet to forgive myself) is that they treat the dogs as pets before they kill them. They let the dogs wander around and play with them, they are more friendly towards humans than the rest of the dogs I've encountered. 

     Since I'm on the topic of nasty food I'll let you know what other disgusting things I ate before I get to the good stuff. Another treat in these parts is boiled duck fetus, yes you heard me right, boiled...duck...fetus. And you have the pleasure of eating the whole thing, including the beak and newly forming feathers. It is supposed to be good for health but it goes under another item that makes me want to purge. Not nearly as bad as the blood though.

     Ok so enough negativity. We did eat some awesome things, although I'm convinced that B wanted to make us try all of the nasty foods one can experience in Hanoi. We had this snack called nem ram (pronounced 'nam zam') which we were told was wok-fried minced pork dipped in a spicy sauce. Although this is true, it is also fermented pork, but who gives a damn? It still tasted awesome. We also had bun cha, a soupy dish made with thin morsels of charcoal grilled pork. Tasty tasty. Yesterday we were on our own for food and found some tasty baguettes with sausage, fried egg, basil, and chili sauce. The French colonized around these parts so there is an influence that shows in the food. I also had a tasty noodle dish with what I believe (based on the animal next to the meat pieces) to be duck. 

     Aside from the usual site seeing and the like, we did learn a few things about this place. They don't dislike Americans here. In fact, they seem to have put the war behind them more easily than we have. All people just want peace and they also have a healthy distrust of government. They call their police 'yellow dogs' while we call them 'pigs' so a lot of same-same really. Life here is definitely difficult. There is not a lot of money and very little in terms of infrastructure. Although I will say it is a bit more developed than Java. Yes, crossing the street is a terrifying endeavor but it's ok once you get used to it. 

     Overall, Hanoi was 'tak best la' but I was expecting it to be. It is a city with an attitude like that of New York and blunt like I've been told Chinese cities can be. We were there as a starting point and the plan to head south after a few days worked out so we are on the path onwards.

I'll break this post and make our Ha Long Bay experience it's own thing...

-M                                  

My apologies for being so horrible at keeping up with my blog. It's really difficult when you are moving around every couple of days and I haven't really had a consistent source of internet in over a week. 

     KL came and went way to fast. I should have known to spend some more time there. I feel like MB just got a little taste of it, but I didn't get the chance to see everyone I wanted to see. I also went through a tired-ness spell. The whole on-the-go part of the trip caught up with me and I did a lot of sleeping. 

     We hit up the good spots (except Jalan Ahlor (sp?). Saturday night we did the whole Changkat BB thing complete with street-side satey and a stop for late-late night mamak. Yummy. The next day we headed out with a friend of a friend J to go to Pasar Seni and China Town for some eats and a trip to the fish spa. Surprisingly, MB did not go crazy at the fish spa like I had anticipated. He very much enjoyed it and it made for a boring video, but I took one anyway. Next stop was the Polo Club, then out with some of A's friends around my old neighborhood. At this point I fell asleep in the middle of the party on a bench. It was one of those half sleeps, where I could hear everything, but was too tired to respond. I suppose I was there in spirit. We drank some good 'ol fashioned moonshine from Borneo and the peninsula. 

     The next day we ran a few errands, went to Batu Caves, hung out around Pavilion mall and I had my favorite meal of all time, banana leaf. A was kind enough to give us a ride to the airport the next morning (think 3am) and we set off for Hanoi. We JUST made the flight and I left my jacket at a coffee shop. By the time I got back it was MIA. I wasn't too disappointed as it was starting to get a few holes in it. 

     Arrival in Hanoi was a bit crazy. We got in this taxi because the bus system seemed a bit crowded for us to just hop on with all of our shit. The taxi man got pulled over or something as we just sat around near the airport for quite some time. However, we didn't really care because it was a fixed rate and the AC was running. We got to B, our host's, place after getting lost several times. He lives in a working/maybe middle class neighborhood in a tiny shop house. The bottom floor is a drink/cigarette shop and the top floor is one room with a bathroom. I could handle the close quarters for a night or so, but I was hot, tired, and homesick and generally feeling anti-social.

     B has self-taught himself English for only 4 months which I found to be quite impressive. It's funny because he can't really communicate some very basic things, but he can talk/give speeches about politics and the like. After talking to me for about a half hour, he decided that I wasn't that interesting and turned his attention to MB for the remainder of the trip. I was ok with this simply because I didn't have the energy to deal with it anyway. 

     Lunch was an experience to be had. This was not a lunch for the faint of heart...or lover of animals. I was thankful for the mom to cook for us, so I felt the need to at least try everything. Most of the dishes consisted of various pig parts and some chicken. Lots of intestine. I have no problem with this, as I've had quite a few of these types of things throughout my travels. However, when asked if we would eat blood, I simply said no, but I would try. So there it was, plopped down right in front of us next to the rest of the family style meal. A bright red bowl of semi-coagulated blood with bits of chopped bones and peanuts in it. My stomach flipped a little and then I inquired as to what animal this blood came from. Many of you have probably already figured out the answer to this one. The response? Dog. 

     Yes, there in front of me sat two men eagerly slopping up their bowlful of dog's blood. In order not to be rude, MB and I had agreed to try some. This is by far the first time in my life that I absolutely ate something that I nearly vomited by just putting near my mouth. It was by far the most vile, disgusting, and down-right disturbing thing I have ever done. I only had about a fifth of a spoonful, but the taste in my mouth lasted for days. It's one thing to eat dog meat, it's something completely different to drain the blood of an animal and then eat it. What you are eating quickly becomes much more obvious. What bothered me the most (besides that fact that I have yet to forgive myself) is that they treat the dogs as pets before they kill them. They let the dogs wander around and play with them, they are more friendly towards humans than the rest of the dogs I've encountered. 

     Since I'm on the topic of nasty food I'll let you know what other disgusting things I ate before I get to the good stuff. Another treat in these parts is boiled duck fetus, yes you heard me right, boiled...duck...fetus. And you have the pleasure of eating the whole thing, including the beak and newly forming feathers. It is supposed to be good for health but it goes under another item that makes me want to purge. Not nearly as bad as the blood though.

     Ok so enough negativity. We did eat some awesome things, although I'm convinced that B wanted to make us try all of the nasty foods one can experience in Hanoi. We had this snack called nem ram (pronounced 'nam zam') which we were told was wok-fried minced pork dipped in a spicy sauce. Although this is true, it is also fermented pork, but who gives a damn? It still tasted awesome. We also had bun cha, a soupy dish made with thin morsels of charcoal grilled pork. Tasty tasty. Yesterday we were on our own for food and found some tasty baguettes with sausage, fried egg, basil, and chili sauce. The French colonized around these parts so there is an influence that shows in the food. I also had a tasty noodle dish with what I believe (based on the animal next to the meat pieces) to be duck. 

     Aside from the usual site seeing and the like, we did learn a few things about this place. They don't dislike Americans here. In fact, they seem to have put the war behind them more easily than we have. All people just want peace and they also have a healthy distrust of government. They call their police 'yellow dogs' while we call them 'pigs' so a lot of same-same really. Life here is definitely difficult. There is not a lot of money and very little in terms of infrastructure. Although I will say it is a bit more developed than Java. Yes, crossing the street is a terrifying endeavor but it's ok once you get used to it. 

     Overall, Hanoi was 'tak best la' but I was expecting it to be. It is a city with an attitude like that of New York and blunt like I've been told Chinese cities can be. We were there as a starting point and the plan to head south after a few days worked out so we are on the path onwards.

I'll break this post and make our Ha Long Bay experience it's own thing...

-M                                  

My apologies for being so horrible at keeping up with my blog. It's really difficult when you are moving around every couple of days and I haven't really had a consistent source of internet in over a week. 

     KL came and went way to fast. I should have known to spend some more time there. I feel like MB just got a little taste of it, but I didn't get the chance to see everyone I wanted to see. I also went through a tired-ness spell. The whole on-the-go part of the trip caught up with me and I did a lot of sleeping. 

     We hit up the good spots (except Jalan Ahlor (sp?). Saturday night we did the whole Changkat BB thing complete with street-side satey and a stop for late-late night mamak. Yummy. The next day we headed out with a friend of a friend J to go to Pasar Seni and China Town for some eats and a trip to the fish spa. Surprisingly, MB did not go crazy at the fish spa like I had anticipated. He very much enjoyed it and it made for a boring video, but I took one anyway. Next stop was the Polo Club, then out with some of A's friends around my old neighborhood. At this point I fell asleep in the middle of the party on a bench. It was one of those half sleeps, where I could hear everything, but was too tired to respond. I suppose I was there in spirit. We drank some good 'ol fashioned moonshine from Borneo and the peninsula. 

     The next day we ran a few errands, went to Batu Caves, hung out around Pavilion mall and I had my favorite meal of all time, banana leaf. A was kind enough to give us a ride to the airport the next morning (think 3am) and we set off for Hanoi. We JUST made the flight and I left my jacket at a coffee shop. By the time I got back it was MIA. I wasn't too disappointed as it was starting to get a few holes in it. 

     Arrival in Hanoi was a bit crazy. We got in this taxi because the bus system seemed a bit crowded for us to just hop on with all of our shit. The taxi man got pulled over or something as we just sat around near the airport for quite some time. However, we didn't really care because it was a fixed rate and the AC was running. We got to B, our host's, place after getting lost several times. He lives in a working/maybe middle class neighborhood in a tiny shop house. The bottom floor is a drink/cigarette shop and the top floor is one room with a bathroom. I could handle the close quarters for a night or so, but I was hot, tired, and homesick and generally feeling anti-social.

     B has self-taught himself English for only 4 months which I found to be quite impressive. It's funny because he can't really communicate some very basic things, but he can talk/give speeches about politics and the like. After talking to me for about a half hour, he decided that I wasn't that interesting and turned his attention to MB for the remainder of the trip. I was ok with this simply because I didn't have the energy to deal with it anyway. 

     Lunch was an experience to be had. This was not a lunch for the faint of heart...or lover of animals. I was thankful for the mom to cook for us, so I felt the need to at least try everything. Most of the dishes consisted of various pig parts and some chicken. Lots of intestine. I have no problem with this, as I've had quite a few of these types of things throughout my travels. However, when asked if we would eat blood, I simply said no, but I would try. So there it was, plopped down right in front of us next to the rest of the family style meal. A bright red bowl of semi-coagulated blood with bits of chopped bones and peanuts in it. My stomach flipped a little and then I inquired as to what animal this blood came from. Many of you have probably already figured out the answer to this one. The response? Dog. 

     Yes, there in front of me sat two men eagerly slopping up their bowlful of dog's blood. In order not to be rude, MB and I had agreed to try some. This is by far the first time in my life that I absolutely ate something that I nearly vomited by just putting near my mouth. It was by far the most vile, disgusting, and down-right disturbing thing I have ever done. I only had about a fifth of a spoonful, but the taste in my mouth lasted for days. It's one thing to eat dog meat, it's something completely different to drain the blood of an animal and then eat it. What you are eating quickly becomes much more obvious. What bothered me the most (besides that fact that I have yet to forgive myself) is that they treat the dogs as pets before they kill them. They let the dogs wander around and play with them, they are more friendly towards humans than the rest of the dogs I've encountered. 

     Since I'm on the topic of nasty food I'll let you know what other disgusting things I ate before I get to the good stuff. Another treat in these parts is boiled duck fetus, yes you heard me right, boiled...duck...fetus. And you have the pleasure of eating the whole thing, including the beak and newly forming feathers. It is supposed to be good for health but it goes under another item that makes me want to purge. Not nearly as bad as the blood though.

     Ok so enough negativity. We did eat some awesome things, although I'm convinced that B wanted to make us try all of the nasty foods one can experience in Hanoi. We had this snack called nem ram (pronounced 'nam zam') which we were told was wok-fried minced pork dipped in a spicy sauce. Although this is true, it is also fermented pork, but who gives a damn? It still tasted awesome. We also had bun cha, a soupy dish made with thin morsels of charcoal grilled pork. Tasty tasty. Yesterday we were on our own for food and found some tasty baguettes with sausage, fried egg, basil, and chili sauce. The French colonized around these parts so there is an influence that shows in the food. I also had a tasty noodle dish with what I believe (based on the animal next to the meat pieces) to be duck. 

     Aside from the usual site seeing and the like, we did learn a few things about this place. They don't dislike Americans here. In fact, they seem to have put the war behind them more easily than we have. All people just want peace and they also have a healthy distrust of government. They call their police 'yellow dogs' while we call them 'pigs' so a lot of same-same really. Life here is definitely difficult. There is not a lot of money and very little in terms of infrastructure. Although I will say it is a bit more developed than Java. Yes, crossing the street is a terrifying endeavor but it's ok once you get used to it. 

     Overall, Hanoi was 'tak best la' but I was expecting it to be. It is a city with an attitude like that of New York and blunt like I've been told Chinese cities can be. We were there as a starting point and the plan to head south after a few days worked out so we are on the path onwards.

I'll break this post and make our Ha Long Bay experience it's own thing...

-M                                  

Just can't help myself...

      Adjustment to a life back in the States has proven harder than I originally thought. I often find myself trapped in my own little world, with my own little thoughts, looking around at a backdrop that was once familiar like the back of my hand. Now, the backdrop has its familiar wrinkles, but there is a sense of unfamiliarity, of displacement, of lines that I don't quite remember being there three months ago.

     Who can blame me really? I've gone from a place where possession of marijuana is punishable by death via hanging, to the city that boasts more dispensaries than Starbucks. I once inhabited a country with a 3% unemployment rate and returned to the one that is creeping slowly towards 10%. My age group is even higher. People here are active, outdoors frequently, and dog-enthusiasts. Can't say the same for the majority in Malaysia. I used to pay $5 for a beer ($3 at one spot) and that was considered cheap; here you can get 64oz of craft beer for a mere $4. On the flips side, don't ever expect to get a $2.50 lunch in this country that will taste like a million bucks. I can actually figure out where the hell I am now, not by landmarks, but by a city grid (albeit, Denver's is a little odd). Freedom of expression, dress, and behavior here are not confined to the much more omnipresent social pressures that un-deniably exist in Malaysia. I realize I'll offend some with this statement; however, you would be lying to yourself if you said they were non-existant. I've seen 'growth' on an astronomical scale. Here we are just hoping that Denver's numbers continue to stay above average.

I know it's tough to read, but trust me, this type of 'gas station' does not exist in Malaysia

     Despite all of those differences, the other side of the coin gives a much more 'same-same' feel. One can easily substitute Bangladeshi, Burmese, Filipino, and Indonesian illegal labor forces for those of South and Central America. We both have politically controlled mass media (ours less obvious than MY); as well as governments that truly believe they are being clandestine, but the educated know otherwise. Denver and KL both share an enthusiasm for food and local eateries. Our beer is your durian. Car dependency goes without saying. Branding here is more about outdoor sporting companies and less about Louis Vuitton, but it's the same idea. Lastly, who can deny that our flags are strikingly similar? I still don't know why this is...

Durian tasting, beer tasting? Same thing...well almost...

     With all of this being said, there is one thing that really bothers me about my experiences this past summer. A common conversation, had by both strangers and friends started off like this...

'Why did you come to Malaysia?'
'For work.'
'Why didn't you want to work in the United States?'
'There are no jobs for architects in the US.'
'Really?'
'...'

     I also kept hearing about how Malaysia wants to become like the West. Emulates the West. To this I have one thing to say: WHY?!? Seriously, WHY? For whatever reason, there is this un-realistic stereotype about Western, particularly American society. I don't get it. Yes, we have done some things right, but in case you haven't noticed (or choose to ignore) we have done A LOT of wrong. Some things (see photo) are irreversible. We have dug ourselves a large hole. Currently, we are clawing at these walls of damp soil to simply get a leg up to get out.

This is one of countless 2-mile-long coal trains that pass by me every day

     I saw building after building go up with no regards to what existed there before. The whole situation is  sad, unsustainable, and - to put it bluntly - thoughtless. I have often heard the excuse, 'well the west did it this way, so it's your fault.' No, that is simply an immature response to pass off guilt to another party. Two wrongs don't make a right. I find it hard to believe that the US is forcing Malaysia to build in this manner (Indonesia, well that's another story). First of all, the US has (finally) begun to realize the value in what is already there and the absolute importance of changing the design paradigm to one that focuses on a more sustainable approach. Second of all, name one large (in population) US city that doesn't have a vibrant and thriving historic district. We saw the value in a pre-existing, sound structural system with open floor plates and adapted.

   So I say this to you Malaysia. Be your own country, your own people, and your own culture. If you truly believe in becoming a nation the world can follow, do not ruin this one shot you have by trudging down the same path we did on steroids. It won't get you anywhere. Instead take this opportunity to slow down and think. Be a global leader in a sustainable manner, this will attract attention. Yes, I realize money, in the end, is what talks. However, you will spend much more fixing your mistakes than you will if you do it right the first time. Learn from the west's failures. Don't buy into 'the faster the better' argument, it's simply not true. Just because China built a huge damn in record time isn't going to rid them of the extreme environmental problems that they now face with flooding and destruction of precious farm land. Good things come to those who wait...and think.

-M

 

PS...on a personal note: Back to normal face, hair, and nose (although it's still a bit sore).

 

      Adjustment to a life back in the States has proven harder than I originally thought. I often find myself trapped in my own little world, with my own little thoughts, looking around at a backdrop that was once familiar like the back of my hand. Now, the backdrop has its familiar wrinkles, but there is a sense of unfamiliarity, of displacement, of lines that I don't quite remember being there three months ago.

     Who can blame me really? I've gone from a place where possession of marijuana is punishable by death via hanging, to the city that boasts more dispensaries than Starbucks. I once inhabited a country with a 3% unemployment rate and returned to the one that is creeping slowly towards 10%. My age group is even higher. People here are active, outdoors frequently, and dog-enthusiasts. Can't say the same for the majority in Malaysia. I used to pay $5 for a beer ($3 at one spot) and that was considered cheap; here you can get 64oz of craft beer for a mere $4. On the flips side, don't ever expect to get a $2.50 lunch in this country that will taste like a million bucks. I can actually figure out where the hell I am now, not by landmarks, but by a city grid (albeit, Denver's is a little odd). Freedom of expression, dress, and behavior here are not confined to the much more omnipresent social pressures that un-deniably exist in Malaysia. I realize I'll offend some with this statement; however, you would be lying to yourself if you said they were non-existant. I've seen 'growth' on an astronomical scale. Here we are just hoping that Denver's numbers continue to stay above average.

I know it's tough to read, but trust me, this type of 'gas station' does not exist in Malaysia

     Despite all of those differences, the other side of the coin gives a much more 'same-same' feel. One can easily substitute Bangladeshi, Burmese, Filipino, and Indonesian illegal labor forces for those of South and Central America. We both have politically controlled mass media (ours less obvious than MY); as well as governments that truly believe they are being clandestine, but the educated know otherwise. Denver and KL both share an enthusiasm for food and local eateries. Our beer is your durian. Car dependency goes without saying. Branding here is more about outdoor sporting companies and less about Louis Vuitton, but it's the same idea. Lastly, who can deny that our flags are strikingly similar? I still don't know why this is...

Durian tasting, beer tasting? Same thing...well almost...

     With all of this being said, there is one thing that really bothers me about my experiences this past summer. A common conversation, had by both strangers and friends started off like this...

'Why did you come to Malaysia?'
'For work.'
'Why didn't you want to work in the United States?'
'There are no jobs for architects in the US.'
'Really?'
'...'

     I also kept hearing about how Malaysia wants to become like the West. Emulates the West. To this I have one thing to say: WHY?!? Seriously, WHY? For whatever reason, there is this un-realistic stereotype about Western, particularly American society. I don't get it. Yes, we have done some things right, but in case you haven't noticed (or choose to ignore) we have done A LOT of wrong. Some things (see photo) are irreversible. We have dug ourselves a large hole. Currently, we are clawing at these walls of damp soil to simply get a leg up to get out.

This is one of countless 2-mile-long coal trains that pass by me every day

     I saw building after building go up with no regards to what existed there before. The whole situation is  sad, unsustainable, and - to put it bluntly - thoughtless. I have often heard the excuse, 'well the west did it this way, so it's your fault.' No, that is simply an immature response to pass off guilt to another party. Two wrongs don't make a right. I find it hard to believe that the US is forcing Malaysia to build in this manner (Indonesia, well that's another story). First of all, the US has (finally) begun to realize the value in what is already there and the absolute importance of changing the design paradigm to one that focuses on a more sustainable approach. Second of all, name one large (in population) US city that doesn't have a vibrant and thriving historic district. We saw the value in a pre-existing, sound structural system with open floor plates and adapted.

   So I say this to you Malaysia. Be your own country, your own people, and your own culture. If you truly believe in becoming a nation the world can follow, do not ruin this one shot you have by trudging down the same path we did on steroids. It won't get you anywhere. Instead take this opportunity to slow down and think. Be a global leader in a sustainable manner, this will attract attention. Yes, I realize money, in the end, is what talks. However, you will spend much more fixing your mistakes than you will if you do it right the first time. Learn from the west's failures. Don't buy into 'the faster the better' argument, it's simply not true. Just because China built a huge damn in record time isn't going to rid them of the extreme environmental problems that they now face with flooding and destruction of precious farm land. Good things come to those who wait...and think.

-M

 

PS...on a personal note: Back to normal face, hair, and nose (although it's still a bit sore).

 

      Adjustment to a life back in the States has proven harder than I originally thought. I often find myself trapped in my own little world, with my own little thoughts, looking around at a backdrop that was once familiar like the back of my hand. Now, the backdrop has its familiar wrinkles, but there is a sense of unfamiliarity, of displacement, of lines that I don't quite remember being there three months ago.

     Who can blame me really? I've gone from a place where possession of marijuana is punishable by death via hanging, to the city that boasts more dispensaries than Starbucks. I once inhabited a country with a 3% unemployment rate and returned to the one that is creeping slowly towards 10%. My age group is even higher. People here are active, outdoors frequently, and dog-enthusiasts. Can't say the same for the majority in Malaysia. I used to pay $5 for a beer ($3 at one spot) and that was considered cheap; here you can get 64oz of craft beer for a mere $4. On the flips side, don't ever expect to get a $2.50 lunch in this country that will taste like a million bucks. I can actually figure out where the hell I am now, not by landmarks, but by a city grid (albeit, Denver's is a little odd). Freedom of expression, dress, and behavior here are not confined to the much more omnipresent social pressures that un-deniably exist in Malaysia. I realize I'll offend some with this statement; however, you would be lying to yourself if you said they were non-existant. I've seen 'growth' on an astronomical scale. Here we are just hoping that Denver's numbers continue to stay above average.

I know it's tough to read, but trust me, this type of 'gas station' does not exist in Malaysia

     Despite all of those differences, the other side of the coin gives a much more 'same-same' feel. One can easily substitute Bangladeshi, Burmese, Filipino, and Indonesian illegal labor forces for those of South and Central America. We both have politically controlled mass media (ours less obvious than MY); as well as governments that truly believe they are being clandestine, but the educated know otherwise. Denver and KL both share an enthusiasm for food and local eateries. Our beer is your durian. Car dependency goes without saying. Branding here is more about outdoor sporting companies and less about Louis Vuitton, but it's the same idea. Lastly, who can deny that our flags are strikingly similar? I still don't know why this is...

Durian tasting, beer tasting? Same thing...well almost...

     With all of this being said, there is one thing that really bothers me about my experiences this past summer. A common conversation, had by both strangers and friends started off like this...

'Why did you come to Malaysia?'
'For work.'
'Why didn't you want to work in the United States?'
'There are no jobs for architects in the US.'
'Really?'
'...'

     I also kept hearing about how Malaysia wants to become like the West. Emulates the West. To this I have one thing to say: WHY?!? Seriously, WHY? For whatever reason, there is this un-realistic stereotype about Western, particularly American society. I don't get it. Yes, we have done some things right, but in case you haven't noticed (or choose to ignore) we have done A LOT of wrong. Some things (see photo) are irreversible. We have dug ourselves a large hole. Currently, we are clawing at these walls of damp soil to simply get a leg up to get out.

This is one of countless 2-mile-long coal trains that pass by me every day

     I saw building after building go up with no regards to what existed there before. The whole situation is  sad, unsustainable, and - to put it bluntly - thoughtless. I have often heard the excuse, 'well the west did it this way, so it's your fault.' No, that is simply an immature response to pass off guilt to another party. Two wrongs don't make a right. I find it hard to believe that the US is forcing Malaysia to build in this manner (Indonesia, well that's another story). First of all, the US has (finally) begun to realize the value in what is already there and the absolute importance of changing the design paradigm to one that focuses on a more sustainable approach. Second of all, name one large (in population) US city that doesn't have a vibrant and thriving historic district. We saw the value in a pre-existing, sound structural system with open floor plates and adapted.

   So I say this to you Malaysia. Be your own country, your own people, and your own culture. If you truly believe in becoming a nation the world can follow, do not ruin this one shot you have by trudging down the same path we did on steroids. It won't get you anywhere. Instead take this opportunity to slow down and think. Be a global leader in a sustainable manner, this will attract attention. Yes, I realize money, in the end, is what talks. However, you will spend much more fixing your mistakes than you will if you do it right the first time. Learn from the west's failures. Don't buy into 'the faster the better' argument, it's simply not true. Just because China built a huge damn in record time isn't going to rid them of the extreme environmental problems that they now face with flooding and destruction of precious farm land. Good things come to those who wait...and think.

-M

 

PS...on a personal note: Back to normal face, hair, and nose (although it's still a bit sore).

 

      Adjustment to a life back in the States has proven harder than I originally thought. I often find myself trapped in my own little world, with my own little thoughts, looking around at a backdrop that was once familiar like the back of my hand. Now, the backdrop has its familiar wrinkles, but there is a sense of unfamiliarity, of displacement, of lines that I don't quite remember being there three months ago.

     Who can blame me really? I've gone from a place where possession of marijuana is punishable by death via hanging, to the city that boasts more dispensaries than Starbucks. I once inhabited a country with a 3% unemployment rate and returned to the one that is creeping slowly towards 10%. My age group is even higher. People here are active, outdoors frequently, and dog-enthusiasts. Can't say the same for the majority in Malaysia. I used to pay $5 for a beer ($3 at one spot) and that was considered cheap; here you can get 64oz of craft beer for a mere $4. On the flips side, don't ever expect to get a $2.50 lunch in this country that will taste like a million bucks. I can actually figure out where the hell I am now, not by landmarks, but by a city grid (albeit, Denver's is a little odd). Freedom of expression, dress, and behavior here are not confined to the much more omnipresent social pressures that un-deniably exist in Malaysia. I realize I'll offend some with this statement; however, you would be lying to yourself if you said they were non-existant. I've seen 'growth' on an astronomical scale. Here we are just hoping that Denver's numbers continue to stay above average.

I know it's tough to read, but trust me, this type of 'gas station' does not exist in Malaysia

     Despite all of those differences, the other side of the coin gives a much more 'same-same' feel. One can easily substitute Bangladeshi, Burmese, Filipino, and Indonesian illegal labor forces for those of South and Central America. We both have politically controlled mass media (ours less obvious than MY); as well as governments that truly believe they are being clandestine, but the educated know otherwise. Denver and KL both share an enthusiasm for food and local eateries. Our beer is your durian. Car dependency goes without saying. Branding here is more about outdoor sporting companies and less about Louis Vuitton, but it's the same idea. Lastly, who can deny that our flags are strikingly similar? I still don't know why this is...

Durian tasting, beer tasting? Same thing...well almost...

     With all of this being said, there is one thing that really bothers me about my experiences this past summer. A common conversation, had by both strangers and friends started off like this...

'Why did you come to Malaysia?'
'For work.'
'Why didn't you want to work in the United States?'
'There are no jobs for architects in the US.'
'Really?'
'...'

     I also kept hearing about how Malaysia wants to become like the West. Emulates the West. To this I have one thing to say: WHY?!? Seriously, WHY? For whatever reason, there is this un-realistic stereotype about Western, particularly American society. I don't get it. Yes, we have done some things right, but in case you haven't noticed (or choose to ignore) we have done A LOT of wrong. Some things (see photo) are irreversible. We have dug ourselves a large hole. Currently, we are clawing at these walls of damp soil to simply get a leg up to get out.

This is one of countless 2-mile-long coal trains that pass by me every day

     I saw building after building go up with no regards to what existed there before. The whole situation is  sad, unsustainable, and - to put it bluntly - thoughtless. I have often heard the excuse, 'well the west did it this way, so it's your fault.' No, that is simply an immature response to pass off guilt to another party. Two wrongs don't make a right. I find it hard to believe that the US is forcing Malaysia to build in this manner (Indonesia, well that's another story). First of all, the US has (finally) begun to realize the value in what is already there and the absolute importance of changing the design paradigm to one that focuses on a more sustainable approach. Second of all, name one large (in population) US city that doesn't have a vibrant and thriving historic district. We saw the value in a pre-existing, sound structural system with open floor plates and adapted.

   So I say this to you Malaysia. Be your own country, your own people, and your own culture. If you truly believe in becoming a nation the world can follow, do not ruin this one shot you have by trudging down the same path we did on steroids. It won't get you anywhere. Instead take this opportunity to slow down and think. Be a global leader in a sustainable manner, this will attract attention. Yes, I realize money, in the end, is what talks. However, you will spend much more fixing your mistakes than you will if you do it right the first time. Learn from the west's failures. Don't buy into 'the faster the better' argument, it's simply not true. Just because China built a huge damn in record time isn't going to rid them of the extreme environmental problems that they now face with flooding and destruction of precious farm land. Good things come to those who wait...and think.

-M

 

PS...on a personal note: Back to normal face, hair, and nose (although it's still a bit sore).

 

Home

     It's weird to say 'I'm home.' It's no surprise that the summer flew by and for the last time (thankfully) that final countdown to school has begun.

     The 50 plus hour trip home was somewhat like a lucid dream; which is funny, because I kept having this re-occuring dream (up until last night). The setting was normally the Balinese 'long-house' I stayed in, except I wasn't in Bali, the setting was Burundi (er...I mean I guess they start with the same letter?). There was a huge table set out and all of my friends were there. When I say all, I mean random selections from groups of friends I've had throughout my life. Random things would happen (like the place got over-run by a herd of mustangs) but for the most part it me being a fly on the wall, listening in on different conversations.

rainstorm

     Visiting my LA house is always a weird experience. I sleep in the guest room, as my room has been deconstructed, packed, and unpacked in other locations. All that remains is a pile of clear storage boxes containing souvenirs from past lives. It sits there in the middle of that room with nothing but brightly painted walls and some photographs falling out of cheap frames. My house in Los Angeles reminds me of a ghost town.

     My dad took me down Ventura Blvd (damn tourist traffic) in order to make my flight on time. Those of you who have not been blessed with the opportunity to drive down the largest eye/commercial-vomit infested street in the nation, it's a bit like this: sign after sign after sign advertising everything from Halal eateries to Kosher meat shops, Sushi to burritos, head shops to bridal accessories...well you get the point. However, it was the first time I've made that drive in at least 3 years. It was a comical trip down memory lane. That 24-hour hookah joint is still there and so is the place where you could convince the clerk to sell you booze without an ID.

Nina Represents

     Reverse culture shock has been quite interesting. Clearly, it isn't like it was when I came back from Denmark.  The oddest (and funniest) thing to get used to is all the white people. I associated white people with touristy things, and touristy things with a greater chance of getting robbed. It's also weird to see most people dressed in clothing that would offend the general population of KL. Granted, most people who aren't Muslim don't care, but having lived in a predominately Muslim part of town, it's something you only do when you are going out, not walking the dog (which is another thing I'm happy to see again). Other than not having to worry about getting killed every time I cross the street, the only other surprising thing to me has been the food. Denver is a food city, this is an unknown thing to most of the world, including the US. I'll save my full belief in why this is for another day, but let's just say medical marijuana plays a large role. Although I never got sick from the food in Malaysia, or any of the other places I've visited (aside from the occasional heart burn), I've actually had trouble adjusting to the food back home. Hopefully this goes away in a few days, as it is totally raining on my food parade.

Until I write again

-M

     It's weird to say 'I'm home.' It's no surprise that the summer flew by and for the last time (thankfully) that final countdown to school has begun.

     The 50 plus hour trip home was somewhat like a lucid dream; which is funny, because I kept having this re-occuring dream (up until last night). The setting was normally the Balinese 'long-house' I stayed in, except I wasn't in Bali, the setting was Burundi (er...I mean I guess they start with the same letter?). There was a huge table set out and all of my friends were there. When I say all, I mean random selections from groups of friends I've had throughout my life. Random things would happen (like the place got over-run by a herd of mustangs) but for the most part it me being a fly on the wall, listening in on different conversations.

rainstorm

     Visiting my LA house is always a weird experience. I sleep in the guest room, as my room has been deconstructed, packed, and unpacked in other locations. All that remains is a pile of clear storage boxes containing souvenirs from past lives. It sits there in the middle of that room with nothing but brightly painted walls and some photographs falling out of cheap frames. My house in Los Angeles reminds me of a ghost town.

     My dad took me down Ventura Blvd (damn tourist traffic) in order to make my flight on time. Those of you who have not been blessed with the opportunity to drive down the largest eye/commercial-vomit infested street in the nation, it's a bit like this: sign after sign after sign advertising everything from Halal eateries to Kosher meat shops, Sushi to burritos, head shops to bridal accessories...well you get the point. However, it was the first time I've made that drive in at least 3 years. It was a comical trip down memory lane. That 24-hour hookah joint is still there and so is the place where you could convince the clerk to sell you booze without an ID.

Nina Represents

     Reverse culture shock has been quite interesting. Clearly, it isn't like it was when I came back from Denmark.  The oddest (and funniest) thing to get used to is all the white people. I associated white people with touristy things, and touristy things with a greater chance of getting robbed. It's also weird to see most people dressed in clothing that would offend the general population of KL. Granted, most people who aren't Muslim don't care, but having lived in a predominately Muslim part of town, it's something you only do when you are going out, not walking the dog (which is another thing I'm happy to see again). Other than not having to worry about getting killed every time I cross the street, the only other surprising thing to me has been the food. Denver is a food city, this is an unknown thing to most of the world, including the US. I'll save my full belief in why this is for another day, but let's just say medical marijuana plays a large role. Although I never got sick from the food in Malaysia, or any of the other places I've visited (aside from the occasional heart burn), I've actually had trouble adjusting to the food back home. Hopefully this goes away in a few days, as it is totally raining on my food parade.

Until I write again

-M

     It's weird to say 'I'm home.' It's no surprise that the summer flew by and for the last time (thankfully) that final countdown to school has begun.

     The 50 plus hour trip home was somewhat like a lucid dream; which is funny, because I kept having this re-occuring dream (up until last night). The setting was normally the Balinese 'long-house' I stayed in, except I wasn't in Bali, the setting was Burundi (er...I mean I guess they start with the same letter?). There was a huge table set out and all of my friends were there. When I say all, I mean random selections from groups of friends I've had throughout my life. Random things would happen (like the place got over-run by a herd of mustangs) but for the most part it me being a fly on the wall, listening in on different conversations.

rainstorm

     Visiting my LA house is always a weird experience. I sleep in the guest room, as my room has been deconstructed, packed, and unpacked in other locations. All that remains is a pile of clear storage boxes containing souvenirs from past lives. It sits there in the middle of that room with nothing but brightly painted walls and some photographs falling out of cheap frames. My house in Los Angeles reminds me of a ghost town.

     My dad took me down Ventura Blvd (damn tourist traffic) in order to make my flight on time. Those of you who have not been blessed with the opportunity to drive down the largest eye/commercial-vomit infested street in the nation, it's a bit like this: sign after sign after sign advertising everything from Halal eateries to Kosher meat shops, Sushi to burritos, head shops to bridal accessories...well you get the point. However, it was the first time I've made that drive in at least 3 years. It was a comical trip down memory lane. That 24-hour hookah joint is still there and so is the place where you could convince the clerk to sell you booze without an ID.

Nina Represents

     Reverse culture shock has been quite interesting. Clearly, it isn't like it was when I came back from Denmark.  The oddest (and funniest) thing to get used to is all the white people. I associated white people with touristy things, and touristy things with a greater chance of getting robbed. It's also weird to see most people dressed in clothing that would offend the general population of KL. Granted, most people who aren't Muslim don't care, but having lived in a predominately Muslim part of town, it's something you only do when you are going out, not walking the dog (which is another thing I'm happy to see again). Other than not having to worry about getting killed every time I cross the street, the only other surprising thing to me has been the food. Denver is a food city, this is an unknown thing to most of the world, including the US. I'll save my full belief in why this is for another day, but let's just say medical marijuana plays a large role. Although I never got sick from the food in Malaysia, or any of the other places I've visited (aside from the occasional heart burn), I've actually had trouble adjusting to the food back home. Hopefully this goes away in a few days, as it is totally raining on my food parade.

Until I write again

-M

     It's weird to say 'I'm home.' It's no surprise that the summer flew by and for the last time (thankfully) that final countdown to school has begun.

     The 50 plus hour trip home was somewhat like a lucid dream; which is funny, because I kept having this re-occuring dream (up until last night). The setting was normally the Balinese 'long-house' I stayed in, except I wasn't in Bali, the setting was Burundi (er...I mean I guess they start with the same letter?). There was a huge table set out and all of my friends were there. When I say all, I mean random selections from groups of friends I've had throughout my life. Random things would happen (like the place got over-run by a herd of mustangs) but for the most part it me being a fly on the wall, listening in on different conversations.

rainstorm

     Visiting my LA house is always a weird experience. I sleep in the guest room, as my room has been deconstructed, packed, and unpacked in other locations. All that remains is a pile of clear storage boxes containing souvenirs from past lives. It sits there in the middle of that room with nothing but brightly painted walls and some photographs falling out of cheap frames. My house in Los Angeles reminds me of a ghost town.

     My dad took me down Ventura Blvd (damn tourist traffic) in order to make my flight on time. Those of you who have not been blessed with the opportunity to drive down the largest eye/commercial-vomit infested street in the nation, it's a bit like this: sign after sign after sign advertising everything from Halal eateries to Kosher meat shops, Sushi to burritos, head shops to bridal accessories...well you get the point. However, it was the first time I've made that drive in at least 3 years. It was a comical trip down memory lane. That 24-hour hookah joint is still there and so is the place where you could convince the clerk to sell you booze without an ID.

Nina Represents

     Reverse culture shock has been quite interesting. Clearly, it isn't like it was when I came back from Denmark.  The oddest (and funniest) thing to get used to is all the white people. I associated white people with touristy things, and touristy things with a greater chance of getting robbed. It's also weird to see most people dressed in clothing that would offend the general population of KL. Granted, most people who aren't Muslim don't care, but having lived in a predominately Muslim part of town, it's something you only do when you are going out, not walking the dog (which is another thing I'm happy to see again). Other than not having to worry about getting killed every time I cross the street, the only other surprising thing to me has been the food. Denver is a food city, this is an unknown thing to most of the world, including the US. I'll save my full belief in why this is for another day, but let's just say medical marijuana plays a large role. Although I never got sick from the food in Malaysia, or any of the other places I've visited (aside from the occasional heart burn), I've actually had trouble adjusting to the food back home. Hopefully this goes away in a few days, as it is totally raining on my food parade.

Until I write again

-M