Life in the Rain Forest
Did I mention that it rains a lot in KL? So far, we've been here four days, and it's rained three. On the other day (Sunday), it just *looked* like it was going to rain for a few hours. It's really a good thing that cabs are so very affordable here -- because you never know when the latest downpour is going to hit.
Usually, though, it's in the afternoon -- after you've had some time to sit around the pool or wander the streets or whatever. Sometime after, say, three in the afternoon. Yesterday, it got dark around four and started raining at around five. No big deal for me, since I was busily doing laundry in the room (Do you know how long it takes to do a load of laundry in a bathroom sink? A long time...and it takes about three days to dry, unless you get out the hair dryer...). Paul, however, had to get back from the office at around seven. By that time, apparently the rain had pretty much stopped -- or so he thought. He started out on his walk, called to let me know he was on his way...and then the rain started again.
Did I mention that it doesn't just rain here? It downpours. There's a monsoon here every afternoon.
For instance, here's the view from our room when it's not raining:
This is what it looks like when it's raining:
So when Paul walked through the door, just a few minutes after he'd called, he was soaked. His shirt was soaked, his pants were soaked, his socks were soaked, his shoes were soaked. And you think that's bad? Consider this: he had an umbrella with him.
After he dried off a bit (and hung up his soaking wet work clothes amid the drying laundry in the bathroom), we decided to get out for a bit. It was, after all, after 8, and I'd been eating nothing but crackers and Macho Nacho Cheese Pringles all day. (I'd also been drinking a little Coffee Pepsi, which, for the record, is really strange.) So we decided to go the one place where we knew we could find something to eat -- the mall. "But we're not walking," Paul said, still traumatized. "We're getting a cab, which will take us from one awning to the other."
We were just running out for a bit, so I didn't really worry about actually looking good. But that, of course, was when we ran into all of the higher-ups from Paul's company. Sure, all week I've been preparing for this moment, looking my best, just in case. And I run into them when I'm wearing whatever I wore to do the laundry and I look like I've been lying around for hours (which, in fact, I have -- just knitting lace and watching The Tick on DVD). Darnit. To make up for it, I actually put on makeup when we went up for breakfast this morning, which was a good thing, since a couple of big-wigs were there this morning, too.
The cab driver was a jovial little guy, who immediately asked where Paul (not me, you notice) was from. When he told him we were from the States, the little guy started singing (in perfect William Hung fashion -- he even kinda looked like William Hung) "Born in the USA" (which, of course, Paul wasn't, but who's counting?). He was my favorite cab driver ever.
So anyway, we get to the mall and choose the food court on the second floor. I believe I mentioned the other day that there are two food courts in the mall. I was wrong. There are three. There's a more Western food court on the lower ground floor (AKA, in the basement). We went to the middle-of-the-road food court -- not the Asian one, not the Western one. We had some Indian food, which was quite tasty but not all that easy to eat (I'm not used to bones in my chicken masala). We decided to get dessert afterwards, and I was checking out the place in the middle, called Just Desserts (which, for the record, is nothing like the Canadian chain of the same name). I was ready to give something a try, when Paul decided that he didn't really recognize anything -- and, well, Paul's had bad luck with attempting to try new things this week (I told you about the coconut, right?), so he chickened out, and we got ice cream at McDonald's instead. Then we wandered around for a while and went in search of another cab.
In the cab home, Paul asked the driver about the weather. It seemed as though he'd barely noticed the rain. "Oh, it's worse in the rainy season. Then it rains *very hard*." I'd hate to see *very hard*, if this isn't it. He also added, "You come here last month...then it's *very hot*." I don't even want to think about *very hot*.
So I decided against heading to the Towers today, since, well, I have more laundry to do before we head for the island on Thursday (and it'll take that long for everything to dry...). That, and there's a chance that Paul may be able to get out of the office for a while tomorrow and go with me. Okay, and I'm still keeping my fingers crossed that he can somehow get me into the office.
So today's another day of laundry and lace and lounging by the pool, trying to guess where my fellow loungers are from. That, and work. I suppose I should get that done today, since I may end up spending tomorrow waiting to be allowed into the Towers for my five minutes.
BTW -- it's good to see I'm not the only one who can't help but stop at McD's in foreign countries. I feel much better now. Thanks. :)