Yawn. Well, I’m not going to get much sleep yet, although it’s 2:20 am. I’m overnighting in Singapore’s Changi Airport waiting for a 10-something am flight to Tbilisi via Doha. But the lights are on, the elevator music is on loop, and various other noises are letting me know that this place, too, never really sleeps. I might try another crash after I write.
Fun Fact: in 1993, I flew through this same airport with a marijuana leaf pressed in a book in my luggage. I had picked it, bemused, from where the plant was growing through a sidewalk crack in the Russian Urals city of Ufa. Then I had clean forgotten that the blasted thing was still there when I flew to visit my parents in Indonesia: tucked inaccessibly away in my check-in luggage. I prayed my little heart out that it would remain undetected as we touched down in Singapore and then took off again. Unkilled, unbeaten by bamboo rods to scar for life as is done here for discovery of such infractions, I am here to tell the stupid tale.
I’ve been in Kuala Lumpur, in nearby Malaysia, for nearly a week of meetings on the theme of humanitarian aid. In a nice 5-star hotel, but with little chance to get out and explore this amazing city of (checks data) just over 2 million. (Huh, I thought it’d be much larger than that.) It’s been close to 30 degrees C outside, nice and cool indoors with the AC on. Every meal I’ve eaten has been delicious local food: I’m much too adventurous and robust of stomach to stick with Western victuals when all sorts of regional delicacies tempt. I’m even drinking the hotel’s water, to no ill effect at all.
I do get out a bit when opportunity presents itself, determined to get SOME photos of the city. It’s a forest of enormous skyscrapers in a verdant tropical jungle, the latter likely dominating once you get more rural. Opulence shines everywhere, along with the odd beggar. We are clearly at a crossroads of influences, from Chinese and Indian and purely local to those of the former colonizers, Britain. Not an old place, it began in about 1857.
Here can be found the tallest twin buildings in the world, the Petronas Towers; as well as three out of the world’s 10 largest shopping malls. And in 2019, Mastercard ranked it as the 6th most visited city on the planet. Its name, however, is mud: more exactly, it means “muddy confluence”, that of two rivers. Malaysia is home to about 34 million people, and 111 languages; it was ruled by the British from the 18th century until 1957. It has an elected monarch chosen once every five years, and a prime minister as head of state. Its dominant religion is Islam, although freedom of religion is guaranteed by its constitution. At one time it was the largest producer of rubber, tin and palm oil (the latter still accurate today). Tourism to and within it is also a major contributor to its economy.
I knew I was literally just scratching the surface of KL in my few hours’ walk from and around my hotel before flying out. But that was enough to show me the contrasts between the city’s endless high-rises and its lush vegetation, both growing apace in the tropical climate. Glass reflected itself everywhere. On the ground, Rolex and Versace competed with foot massage parlors and street food outlets from half the countries of Asia. Yes, 7 Elevens, Starbucks and McDonald’s also appeared; but they were minorities among far more interesting options.
I did have time to fulfill my wife’s shopping request of as many mangoes as my check-in luggage would take (far better than their typical counterparts in Georgia), and a few nicely patterned local shirts for myself, including a batik one featuring the origami folded cranes I learned how to make at about age 10 in Canada.
Then, a shared taxi back to KL airport, nice and early as there are few things worse than late arrival stress. Hop to Singapore, and here we are, now at nearly 3am as I finish typing. A robo-vac has impressed me with its sheer size: you can get a Roomba or equivalent in Georgia, yes, but this thing’s larger in volume than an adult human. Home beckons, as does wife, ever more tantalizingly as they get closer. Soon.
By Tony Hanmer
Tony Hanmer has lived in Georgia since 1999, in Svaneti since 2007, and been a weekly writer and photographer for GT since early 2011. He runs the “Svaneti Renaissance” Facebook group, now with over 2000 members, at www.facebook.com/groups/SvanetiRenaissance/
He and his wife also run their own guest house in Etseri: www.facebook.com/hanmer.house.svaneti
