Well, here we are ......

It's hard to know where to begin. I have so much to say about what I think about this place, but it's not what I thought I'd want to say about living halfway around the world, in an "exotic"  southeast asian country.  Let me set the stage:  When I imagined sweeping our family off to a totally different life, I'd prepared for culture shock. The thrill and the discomfort of being someplace so totally different and foreign, a place where only with great interest and effort we'd get the rhythm of the life and finally become a part of it.  I'd anticipated needing to guide my family so that we would integrate with the Malaysian people -- do what they do, shop where they shop, participate in their activities, learn their language, eat their food -- so that eventually, "theirs" would become "ours".  I pictured my children barefoot and dirty, chasing a "football" around a colonial town square -- their tawny, happy faces pin-balling around the green with twenty other dirty-footed, happy, brown-skinned children.  And mostly, regardless of whether my fantasy was accurate or not, I'd anticipated that I'd WANT us to become a part of Malaysian life.  Whatever it turned out to be.  Because what Ethan and I wanted most, what we talked about in those "are we really going to do this?", "is this totally crazy?" moments, was filling our children with wonder.  I wanted to be filled with wonder -- that elusive, intoxicating, magnificent, most euphoric of feelings, that occurs far too infrequently in most of our lives.  That's the gift that Ethan and I wanted to give to Addie and Jem.  The wonder of the beautiful people who were as curious about us as we of them. The wonder of a different kind of a life, a life to which we'd have to adapt.  I'd prepared for getting my kids comfortable with being the oddity in a curious place.

Oh, the romantic notions of the mis-informed (or the hallucinatory).  Did I think I was living in the 19th century? Or even the 20th for that matter.  Yes. Of course my fantasies were based on my 20th century memories of a twenty-five year old adventurous, lusty, wonderfully irresponsible, escapist.

The reality:  Malls.  Traffic.  Too much air conditioning.  Adapting to living in a townhouse in a gated, guarded, well-kept, manicured, sanitized, sterile, xenophobic, BORING, community.   Where EVERYBODY stays indoors all day, every day.  KL is the "Land of the Shopping Mall".  Malls here, malls there, miles and miles of malls everywhere.  I read a "put your ad here" sign in a mall the other other day that said, "Studies prove that when asked what you did over the weekend, 71% of Malaysians say they went to the mall".  What?!

For the first week or so, I'd secretly hyperventilate thinking we'd made a huge mistake, and actually made a long, circuitous flight to end up in some planned, over-65 community in central N.J. -- kind of like an awake version of one of those panic dreams where, at the end of the semester you realize you had signed up for the 18th century literature class but never attended, and the paper is due in 15 minutes.  Unfortunately, our new home, both in terms of our actual living quarters as well as location, falls a bit short.  But we are making do.  It's modern and extremely spacious (we've got TONS of space, so please visit!!) -- but cavernous would be a more apt description, not due to the size, but the light level.  There's a dark coating on all of the windows, I presume to keep it cool, but it fails at that and only keeps out all sunlight.  I've tied back the heavy draperies, raised all of the window coverings, but we still need every light on midday.  We can't open the windows because there are no screens, and trust me -- you do not want to let the bugs in! So, we've adapted as I'd fantasized, and when indoors we too, have too much air-conditioning.  There's a pool a few steps from our door, with nary a soul in't.  There's the "Waterfront" shopping plaza, a quick "Clinton Avenue to Maplewood Avenue" walk away, empty during the day but nightly filled nobody who will even look our way.  As if this is an adequate explanation, most expats in our community are Chinese, who seem to want absolutely nothing to do with Americans -- or anyone non-chinese.  Quite a shock for one with an "asian fetish" (the term coined for me by my dear, dear, dear Taiwanese friend, Janice since I'm very frequently the only white girl in the room, surrounded by my family or my Maplewood "besties", who are Japanese, Indian, Filipino, Afghani, and of course, Taiwanese).  What's the deal?

Anyway, there's luckily a bright side to all of this.  Ethan's work colleagues are a fantastic group!  Warm, smart, funny, intelligent.  Whew!  We all went to Redang last week, a beautiful, peaceful, lazy, white-sand beach, calm, turquoise-watered isle in the South China Sea, for a "work" retreat.  Man, was that great! We walked around barefoot, read, lazed in hammocks, spent entire days in the water, snorkeling or just playing.  We ate well, bonded with some great people.  Wonderful.

Back here in KL, though, my personal saviour is Mary Pohl, the other nut who lustily agreed to shlep her family to the other side of the globe for a taste of adventure.  We've spent our days together, discovering the "real" KL with our children (her's are Violet, 7 1/2 and Tyler 5 1/2), while our husbands toil.  We are figuring out this insane system of roads together, where danger lurks around every one of the absurd numbers of curves and offshoots, and merging lanes.  She navigates and I drive (on the "wrong side of the road), with motorbikes perilously weaving in and out of the lines of cars.  It's truly frightening -- but driving is an entire blog entry unto itself.  I'll save it for another time.  Mary and I have taken the kids to the asian markets, where we all try all sorts of new, strange culinary delights of every different color and consistency you can imagine, visit parks and aviaries, and the original, colonial parts of KL to learn of its history.  And swim.  And go to malls.  The kids all get along great.  Mary and I get along great.  We call it Camp "WienerPohl" and we keep busy.

E and I also took the kids to the Batu Caves, which are fascinating in their natural state, but even more so because they were made into Hindu temples.  We took a great tour into the "Dark Cave"'s recesses and gingerly avoided all the guano, and experienced "absolute" darkness.  It was beautiful.  The monkey's were the hit of the day, though.  Especially after I noticed a sign that said "Monkey Food" at the entrance to the cave grounds, and figured it'd be fun for the kids to feed the monkeys, if there actually turned out to be any around that day.  Turns out, Monkey Food is a bunch of bananas.  Made sense to me.  Although, (perhaps it was my imagination, I thought) the woman from whom I purchased the "Monkey Food" (who also happened to be selling sweet pakoras, which happen to made with bananas), seemed to be holding back a devilish, little grin as I paid her.  Anyway, she plopped a bunch in a plastic bag, handed it over, and we proceeded through the gate to the entrance to the cave.  Before I even got my back leg over the boundary to the cave grounds, or finished exclaiming "Holy Buddah!" as I gazed up at the 10 story golden statue in front of me, I was assaulted by a big, hairy monster that collided with my chest, grabbed my shoulders and thighs, screeched in my face, and grabbed my bag of Monkey Food.  As I recovered and regained my faculties, I look up to see my kids and husband rolling on the ground, unable to catch their respective, giggling breath, and the King Monkey sitting two feet away from me, daring me or any other monkey to mess with his catch-of-the-day.

I think that's enough for now.  I've had a lot to say since I've neglected to really write before now.  I'll try to be better about keeping y' all up-to-date.   Also -- for those insomniacs, or just all of you who miss us, we have Vonage, so if you call our regular, Maplewood phone number it will reach us here in KL, no cost to either party.  Just like a local call!!  So be mindful of the 12-hour time difference, and be in touch!!  And comment on here, which is another way to be in touch.  For the kids too.  We miss you all!

Pictures soon ---- just gotta go now ......