Its my first day here in the house and already there’s been comments on my excessive sleeping. They ain’t seen nothing yet. Personally I am quite impressed with my slothing abilities, and if anything, others should be inspired by the example I am setting. Today we headed to the wedding of my friends boyfriends friends friends friends friends friends. Jokes, they’re close. We headed out into the suburbs of KL to the Brides residence, where the groom && his peeps have to pass a series of tests && get past the bridesmaids && the father of the bride. In the end the guy gets the girl, happy happy joy joy, lots of food for everyone. Their initial offering was a giant roast pig, glistening in its deliciousness. My friend and I watched on as the boys ate weird stuff, danced to ‘sexy and I know it’, promised the Bride the world, and emptied their pockets for the Father of the Bride. In turn, I was being watched with varying degrees of judgment for being the only uninvited overdressed white girl at the house. Apparently that’s what you get for being a blonde western chick in the suburbs. Once you say hi, everyone is perfectly warm and welcoming, strangers walking down the street continue to judge though. In all honesty I’m not that used to having judgment rained down on me, quite often I find that I’m the one passing judgment which really suits me perfectly fine. Randoms throwing chat to each other about you in languages you don’t understand is also pretty interesting. But I maintain that they were just conversing about how awesome I am.
There are several things about a Chinese Wedding I like the sound of. Not only do I enjoy the idea of scoring mass bribes from the groomsmen (although in all honesty I think the Dad just kept the money…which would sit pretty well with my step-dad, mum would just return the money. bless), but I also love that the groom and his entourage bring with them an epic delicious entire roast pig. Like an actual whole pig. It had the most delicious crackling//skin ever. *drools*. I was also pretty stoked to experience my first “home cooked meal”. Even though my every move was being watched and judged as the other guests tried to figure out why I was there, I was provided with food, chrysanthemum tea (awesomely good), pig, food, tea, food, tea..and so on.
On the way home I spotted yet another baby wedged between its parents on the back of a motorcycle…yet to get a pic…but I will. Apparently several families can’t afford cars && their only mode of transport is motorcycles, which is fair enough, but god so dangerous. Especially since no-one wears more than a helmet. It kinda made me feel lucky to live in a country where we have a minimum wage and a government that gives some assistance, even if the cost of living and god forbid parking in Australia is ridonk.
After another mall trip and a cat nap (I told you I sleep a lot), it was time again to fix my face and head to…you guessed it…another mall. Malaysia is all about shopping, and which mall is bigger and better and shinier than the others, so each one is a different adventure and trying not to get lost is a challenge. My friends were heading to the wedding dinner, so I headed to play at KLCC until the afterparty.
Once again I played the role of overdressed white girl as I explored the infamous mall located at the bottom of the beautiful twin towers. I discovered many things, such as paid restrooms (not that much better…but drier…and they do give you free towelettes). I observed that Malaysian malls have plenty of food && classy clothing stores, but hardly any newsagents, drug stores, and dirt cheap ‘cut the labels off’ clother like Ice && Supre. I eventually did find a Chemist, and yes I’m about to go into information overload, but for whatever reason, there are next to no tampons and aisle after aisle of lady pads and even full brief nappy type things. As someone who doesn’t live in the middle ages, and values comfort and lack of tell tale scent, I don’t understand this. Please explain.
Oh and for a country where everyone speaks English, I may or may not have had some difficulty ordering food. Apparently “Bottle of water” sounds an awful lot like “bolognaise”, and so I was stuck with more meals than I wanted to eat while in public. I tried to explain this to the cashier…but to no avail. We regressed into using hand signals and I eventually ended up having to talk to the manager//supervisor cause she had no clue what was going on. He did throw in a waffle, so in the end. WIN.
10 pm finally arrived, shops closed, and I power walked back to the dinner and avoided eye contact with EVERYONE. Dinner wasn’t quite finished, but there was a spare table so I managed to score a last minute dessert invite. Apparently its Chinese tradition to ‘out cheers’ each other by making as much noise as humanly possible when its your tables turn to congratulate the happy couple. Another tradition. Scotch. Lots and lots of scotch. Affectionally referred to as Chinese tea. I have never seen so much Johnny green in my life, and especially not being skulled rather than savoured. I also learnt how to say “yo mamma” in chinese. A;; in all…good night.