And The Bargain

We took the bus to Chinatown, a town that probably every Southeast Asian city has. The bus was a non-aircon bus (like EDSA/Alabang-bound ordinary buses we have were) with an English-speaking lady conductor, and .75RM per person fare. We stopped at bargain book shops with many Kurt Vonnegut and J.D. Salinger titles. We had lunch at Chinatown with a Filipino friend, and the chicken-rice (Soy chicken with chili sauce and a vegetable side dish) was terrific. A few blocks away there’s the Puduraya bus station, which lived up to its reputation as hot and clamorous. It’s just a little more organized than Cubao. We bought our tickets to Singapore at 25RM each and were scheduled to leave at 2:00 pm. The lady selling the tickets was Indonesian by nationality, but spoke Filipino almost fluently.

My shirt was smudged with sweat from all the walking and KL’s noon sun. D.’s shoulders were giving up on the back pack since we’ve been carrying all our stuff for Singapore all morning. So I carried both our bags. But all the walking was worth it and the word “tired” was omitted from of my vocabulary. I’m loving D. and D.’s loving me every step of the way. We walked downtown to see the ordinary places: a Chinese temple, the Hindu place of worship (which looked like an illustration out of the Vedas and the Upanishads), streets lined with shops selling arranged bouquets of flowers, parking lots where it seemed like all the motorcycles of the world are parked.

While we were shopping in Chinatown, we experienced how bargaining could become an annoyance. We found a shop selling small Petronas Tower figurine bells which we were sure my mother would love, since she was mad about bells. We asked how much it was. The Indian hip-hop-looking guy wearing a jersey with a bling-bling dangling on his neck told us it was 25 RM. D. bargained for 18RM. The guy started to wrap it but I said it was expensive and we’ll come back for it later. When we were leaving he yelled at us, “No, you buy… opening time, man…” D. paid for it at 18RM and we had the bells. We spent a lot of time looking around and I got D. a Greenhills-quality Roxy shirt for 15 RM. There was a Chinese girl of about 12 helping out in a store selling football Jerseys. I asked her how much Brazil was and she said 40RM. I said I’ll buy it at 20RM and she gave it to me for 25RM. I let her have her undeniable ace as I wouldn’t be able to bear it if this little girl wipes that smile off her face.

We walked back to the Puduraya station. Just like yesterday, we’re off to another country.