What's Buggin' Me

And Hello Again!

Blog Number Two for today serves two purposes - to introduce you to Malaysia and to cover a subject that has been on my mind for a while. It's another introduction. An introduction to the "bad" parts of travel - and no, it's not all sunshine and beaches. This blog was intended to share with you what traveling is like from my perspective and it would be unfair - a downright lie actually - to paint it as a perfect picture captured thousands of miles from where you are. I hope it helps to give a more complete idea of what extended travel is really like. It's not meant to be whiny or to take away from the days of sunshine and beaches but rather to provide a 3rd dimension and therefore a more realistic view.

Malaysia was a two week expedition for our small band of gypsies - a sort of stop over between Indonesia’s balmy tropical paradise and Thailand’s exotic beauty. Malaysia is a strange country. Strange in that it is made up of so many different races and nationalities. In most areas, Malays are far outnumbered by Indians and Chinese. And stranger yet that so many of them speak excellent English. I was startled more than once to hear a waiter or taxi driver speak in perfect English. It’s a country where one learns (or rather, remembers) to watch what one says.
It’s a strange country too because of its obvious mix not only in cultures – and therefore foods, religions, and clothing – but also in how much or how little its citizens have embraced Western ideas. Before I elaborate, I should give you some examples of “Western Ideas.” Western ideas include the obvious fast food restaurants and increased cell phone and internet use but also the ‘progressive’ ideas of what a person can wear, how they cut their hair, or what music they listen to. All of which are subtle hints at a societies acceptance of a more liberal culture and freedom of ideas. Whether this is a positive or a negative could be debated for pages on end – but the fact remains that the world is becoming more westernized as it becomes more globalized. And the evidence walks the city streets. In the quickly modernizing capital of Kuala Lumpur one is just as likely to see a conservative Muslim woman with full head cover as she is to see a young Malay girl dressed in short shorts and sporting a Gucci bag. Traditional Chinese ancestral alters complete with daily offerings of incense, rice and flowers stand beside towering examples of modern architectural design. This is a city of contradictions and unity.
Kuala Lumpur was our gateway to Malaysia. I wouldn’t say KL (as it’s known to locals and backpackers alike) was a city without a soul but it was large that its soul was well hidden behind the modern skyscrapers and billboards proclaiming the arrival of foreign investment.
Don’t get me wrong – KL is a magnificent city and we did enjoy this dose of big city living after our month on Indonesia’s poverty stricken shores. From the height of the Petronas Tower (the world’s second tallest building) it was easy to see that KL has mastered the art of modernization and is moving steadily forward on a wave of Starbucks and foreign banks.
And so – as you can see – my first impression of Malaysia showed sharp contrast to the chaos of Indonesia’s Kuta, Bali. This city did not seem so foreign with its business class atmosphere and name brand hotels.
So it was strange indeed that here in the city so westernized and modern that we would have our first run in with something that brings to mind filth and depravity – the backpackers nightmare: bedbugs. Stick with me for a bit because this is a story that is sure to make your skin crawl.

Not long ago I received an email from a friend who pointedly asked: “I’ve read your stories and it all sounds so great but I have to wonder, haven’t there been any bumps in the road?” In response to this I have to answer a weary “yes.” Travel – or at least the extended kind of travel that takes you far from home carrying your very existence on your back into completely foreign places with very little preparation – is not all walks on the beaches and beers at sunset. Believe it or not, the tedious, the tiring, the day-to-day complaints all follow you – even to the most distant shore, even when you pack the bare minimum. There are still bills to pay, still ignorant people to deal with. The service at most restaurants and hotels is almost always sub-par. Prices are always increasing. You are always getting lost. And while the 9 to 5 may be a thing of the past, in a sense your days are much longer for at the end there is rarely, if ever a home cooked meal or nice relaxing evening around a TV. Everything you do becomes dependant on someone else’s decisions. If your bus driver is late – well, you just wait. If your taxi driver is rude – well, too bad. There are no managers to speak to, no number to call and complain. And even if there were they wouldn’t speak English. You – the foreigner, the lighter skinned and therefore assumedly filthy rich – will be hassled for money, overcharged based on race, lied to, screwed over, stared at and basically set apart on a daily basis. You do no fit – you do not belong. Racial profiling? Yes. And, yes, profiling is wrong (to quote one of my favorite comedians). But it’s just a fact of life when you are on the road.
But all of societies issues aside, there are other ‘bumps’ that will really get under your skin. I’m talking about the creepy crawlers whose uncommon occurrence in America is truly one of the most overlooked blessings we have. Have you ever seen a bed bug? How about hundreds of them crawling over the walls and sheets of the place you are sleeping? Have you ever woken up with hundreds – and no, that is not an exaggeration – of large, red welts all over your body? No? How’s that for a ‘bump’ in the road?
I’ve stayed at some pretty shady places in the US (a motel in Del Rio jumps to mind) but never have I seen a bed bug. Never. Not once. Having taken entomology in college and sold a fair share of pest control products in Hawaii I knew what they looked like – but I had no idea what they were capable of.
It was a nightmare. We had followed the well meaning advice of our guidebook and gotten a dorm room at a recommended place in KL. The Green Hut, as it was called, was nice enough. It looked and smelled clean. It was popular with other backpackers. All signs pointed to yes. But to fall back on an old adage – looks can be deceiving.
We called it an early night – or at least an earlier night than the off-tune, want-to-be folk singer trio just below our window. As we were getting ready for bed the only other earlier-nighter in the room began tossing and turning in her sheets. She got up and dusted off the sheets mumbling in her native tongue. She tossed and turned some more before finally sitting up, and seeing our weary looks, explained, “There are bugs. They not bite but I feel dem crawling.” I looked at her with pity. I figured she was overreacting or maybe slightly crazy. I hadn’t seen any bugs – not yet.
Lights out and I was soon asleep but it wouldn’t last long. I woke with a start. My clock told me it was 2 am. The room was filled with the filtered, shifting shadows of cars passing below on the city streets. What had woken me? Then I felt something crawl across my chest. I jumped up and grabbed my flash light. That was a bad idea. There were two bed bugs on my pillow and a very dead one on the heel of my hand where I had squashed it on my chest. I saw several crawling on the walls.
If you’ve never seen a bed bug, they are nasty little creatures - small, flat and brown with the look of a mite or tick but larger. They are creatures of the night, lying in wait in the dark crooks and crannies found on mattress seams or pillow cases awaiting the dark so that they can crawl out and feast on the nearest warm-blooded creature. And I had woken up mid-feast. They were on the walls. On my sheets. And, I felt certain, on me. I climbed off my top bunk. Maybe it was my proximity to the wall, I thought. Or just my bed. I decided to switch to the bunk below and across from me but just before laying down I saw the granddaddy of them all crawl sluggishly across the pillow. This was an infestation beyond imagination.
But what’s a girl to do? It was 2 am. I couldn’t merely wake up my travel companions and suggest we wander the streets looking for a better accommodation. All I could do was lay lightly and pray for the first light of morning. Needless to say there was to be little or no sleep that night. The sound of my fellow dorm mates tossing and turning was eerie and disheartening. By the time the sun shone through the windows I was anxious and miserable. By the time we arrived at our next destination (Melaka, just a few hours south of KL), I was itching and uncomfortable. My legs and my arms, my lower back and stomach were covered in large, itchy welts. I looked and felt like a leper. It was embarrassing. Lisa looked the same, her arms, legs and neck pock marked with red bites. Desirae’s would take a day to appear, her lower back and legs covered.
The bites took 4 to 5 days to disappear and I can’t remember anything ever itching so badly. After that I would start to notice similar marks on other travelers and my heart would go out to them. The mosquitoes I was prepared for – the bed bugs I was not.
So bumps – yes, we’ve had our bumps. I’m thankful they have only been minor and temporary. Our ‘road less traveled’ has indeed been fairly pot-hole free.
After reading this some of you might ask “Well if it’s so bad sometimes then why do you do it?” The answer is simple – I travel for the same reasons that some stay in less than ideal jobs. Because I love the lifestyle it provides. A 9 to 5 supports hobbies, a home, and allows a person to stay in the place they want to be. Travel does the same for me. To have what we want, we all tolerate what we dislike. Your irritations might be traffic jams or bad weather. Ours are bed bugs and the other occasional “bumps” on the road.

And that's it for today. I could say goodnight don't let the bed bugs bite - but until they have bitten you, that's a saying that is taken much too lightly! Sweet dreams!

Love from the road...