JB
ok I think I've taken a vacation from this site long enough to not be noticed anymore. Let's see if I'm reset, anyone still knows. For now, all the self-consciousness has fallen away. I'm writing for myself.
ok looks like it ain't all that clear. There are things I dare not type out. I'm afraid that people would know, but I want them to know too. ah well, it won't be hidden forever. I am willing as long as anyone is interested. Everyone's preoccupied with their own concerns, my own will never be important to them as much as theirs are to themselves. no point fishing for some comfort, I'll have to dish it out to myself, for who am I to live with but myself the rest of my life?
anyway, Guru and I had a bright idea for an adventure on saturday night. At 11pm, we decided we should do something exciting and clubbing wasn't it. We decided to walk across the causeway to johore and have an adventure.
Sam couldn't come. Everyone else I knew... I didn't think they'd come. They'd have other commitments, or just won't be so game. We met at woodlands MRT and made our way to the causeway with our passports.
I was so excited. I haven't been to malaysia in my conscious memory. There are flashes of moments i remember from my childhood of short trips, but these memories last seconds and have got no depth. it's almost as if I've never been to malaysia.
We crossed the boundaries of the two countries with the soles of our feet.
I felt like we stood out like a sore thumb. I couldn't even figure out the price of things when shop owners/keepers stated their prices in malay. I've learned to count to ten and even that knowledge is vague now. I'd blindly hand out a ten ringgit note and hope I don't get cheated. Malaysians are lovely though. I don't feel so different from them, but seperated by language. We have so much in common. we're not better than them, and we;re alot more spoiled.
Guru and I ate and had some beer near the causeway, asking for directions to money changers and the nearest club. The cab we took to the nearby club area had a meter that said RM$3.60, but the cab driver said it'd be ten dollars for us coz of midnight charge, and I didn't want to argue. I was somewhat miffed with the sense of being ripped off, but I didn't want trouble. It was a little less than five bucks in SGD, I didn't want to make a scene.
We got out near New York Hotel, and walked down the road to look for the club Eskimo Joy that guru's friend recommended. I dropped 55 ringgit on the street.
We reached the club after clusters of hawkers and car washes amidst a derelict street of hotels and trash on the road. Young chinese malaysians were showing up in tuny boxy cars for their night of debauchery. We found Eskimo Joy among a cluster of pubs and clubs largely frequented by malaysian chinese.
I realized I had dropped my money and I went to to search for it. Guru was sure I wouldn't find it, and i must admit it was rational, but I picked the notes off the pavement we walked past 10 minutes ago like nothing happened, and my relief was accredited to the dice boxer shorts I wore beneath me jeans.
I had really wanted to go into Eskimo Joy, but Guru preferred to sit at the pub nearby, nursing whiskey tonics. I was excited to be in a new land, and really wanted to check out the place, but I didn't want to push him out his comfort zone for he didn't seem to want to party, and he was morose over his recent turbulence in his life. In consolation, I got to play with a really cute kitten that made it ok to hang around the cluster of clubs/pubs without going in. The kitten was really cute mind you, enough to sate any noisy club environment desires.
we had supper after enough drinks to cull a bull (by then, considering we started before we even entered malaysia). The bakso was good, but the chilli was amazing. The satay was soso, the sauce pretty mediocre, but the bakso chillie made up for everything.
walking back to my home country fully sobre but sated with the excited of the journey was so nice. We'd sen the malaysian skyline walking over, now walking back looking at just 4 pint block flats in woodlands, the straits waters passing by us with every footfall, was serene and contemplative. In such a short distance us Singaporeans were in a different world. My complacency had fallen away, everything i took for granted was alertly watched after when i was in malaysia. yet all the fears and tension I had in singapore fell away as well. Malaysia was so much bigger and less controlled, It was such a sense of freedom I felt.
I'd like to go back again, longer than the feeble four hours I spent in the wee hours of the night. I'd like to have days there, meeting locals and stop being the idiot singaporean we all are (trust me, we're more idiotic as a nation than we think).
ok looks like it ain't all that clear. There are things I dare not type out. I'm afraid that people would know, but I want them to know too. ah well, it won't be hidden forever. I am willing as long as anyone is interested. Everyone's preoccupied with their own concerns, my own will never be important to them as much as theirs are to themselves. no point fishing for some comfort, I'll have to dish it out to myself, for who am I to live with but myself the rest of my life?
anyway, Guru and I had a bright idea for an adventure on saturday night. At 11pm, we decided we should do something exciting and clubbing wasn't it. We decided to walk across the causeway to johore and have an adventure.
Sam couldn't come. Everyone else I knew... I didn't think they'd come. They'd have other commitments, or just won't be so game. We met at woodlands MRT and made our way to the causeway with our passports.
I was so excited. I haven't been to malaysia in my conscious memory. There are flashes of moments i remember from my childhood of short trips, but these memories last seconds and have got no depth. it's almost as if I've never been to malaysia.
We crossed the boundaries of the two countries with the soles of our feet.
I felt like we stood out like a sore thumb. I couldn't even figure out the price of things when shop owners/keepers stated their prices in malay. I've learned to count to ten and even that knowledge is vague now. I'd blindly hand out a ten ringgit note and hope I don't get cheated. Malaysians are lovely though. I don't feel so different from them, but seperated by language. We have so much in common. we're not better than them, and we;re alot more spoiled.
Guru and I ate and had some beer near the causeway, asking for directions to money changers and the nearest club. The cab we took to the nearby club area had a meter that said RM$3.60, but the cab driver said it'd be ten dollars for us coz of midnight charge, and I didn't want to argue. I was somewhat miffed with the sense of being ripped off, but I didn't want trouble. It was a little less than five bucks in SGD, I didn't want to make a scene.
We got out near New York Hotel, and walked down the road to look for the club Eskimo Joy that guru's friend recommended. I dropped 55 ringgit on the street.
We reached the club after clusters of hawkers and car washes amidst a derelict street of hotels and trash on the road. Young chinese malaysians were showing up in tuny boxy cars for their night of debauchery. We found Eskimo Joy among a cluster of pubs and clubs largely frequented by malaysian chinese.
I realized I had dropped my money and I went to to search for it. Guru was sure I wouldn't find it, and i must admit it was rational, but I picked the notes off the pavement we walked past 10 minutes ago like nothing happened, and my relief was accredited to the dice boxer shorts I wore beneath me jeans.
I had really wanted to go into Eskimo Joy, but Guru preferred to sit at the pub nearby, nursing whiskey tonics. I was excited to be in a new land, and really wanted to check out the place, but I didn't want to push him out his comfort zone for he didn't seem to want to party, and he was morose over his recent turbulence in his life. In consolation, I got to play with a really cute kitten that made it ok to hang around the cluster of clubs/pubs without going in. The kitten was really cute mind you, enough to sate any noisy club environment desires.
we had supper after enough drinks to cull a bull (by then, considering we started before we even entered malaysia). The bakso was good, but the chilli was amazing. The satay was soso, the sauce pretty mediocre, but the bakso chillie made up for everything.
walking back to my home country fully sobre but sated with the excited of the journey was so nice. We'd sen the malaysian skyline walking over, now walking back looking at just 4 pint block flats in woodlands, the straits waters passing by us with every footfall, was serene and contemplative. In such a short distance us Singaporeans were in a different world. My complacency had fallen away, everything i took for granted was alertly watched after when i was in malaysia. yet all the fears and tension I had in singapore fell away as well. Malaysia was so much bigger and less controlled, It was such a sense of freedom I felt.
I'd like to go back again, longer than the feeble four hours I spent in the wee hours of the night. I'd like to have days there, meeting locals and stop being the idiot singaporean we all are (trust me, we're more idiotic as a nation than we think).
Sid found concrete manifestation for abstract/complicated/foolish/affected/inebrieted musings at 3:09 AM
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