Getting to and from Kuala Lumpur

I went to Kuala Lumpur last weekend. Ah what a nice break to be out of Aceh, and a lucky hiatus from the underwater coastlines of Meulaboh. Getting to KL however, proved to be quite an ordeal; getting home wasn’t easy either. Fitting that Kuala Lumpur actually means “Muddy Port.”

The waves were huge the day before I left. I mean, they get massive during these westerly seasons and the rip tides are vicious. These particular tides were especially strong and overnight the waves had reached over the beaches and flooded past my house. Water was up to the floor level and people were wading up to their hips in seawater on the streets and around their houses. Worried about what to expect when I came back, I was also really glad to be getting away.

Getting out of Meulaboh is not easy. My bus ride (more like a van) was leaving at six that evening and I was really chasing time to make it to my flight from Medan the next morning. Yes, the ride generally takes 14 hours!! The drivers drive like they are in a NASCAR race and I had to look away at certain points the way these guys were taking the curves. He was blasting Dangdut pop and random classics like “Summer of ’69.” The man in the front seat seemed to be vomiting the entire time. After about 10 hours of cramped knees and discomfort I finally felt at ease that I would make it to my flight in time. And I finally was able to doze off.

Apparently everyone had fallen asleep because next thing I knew, we had smashed into a tree. Yes the driver fell asleep too. We were lucky that he was going up hill as he veered deep into the forest. When I opened my door the road was nowhere to be seen and it was all very dreamlike. I peeled myself off the lap of the man in front of me I had been launched into, and started to panic that there was no way I was making it to my flight in time. Oh, at least we were all safe. “It was the summer of ‘69…”

Climbing through the steam of the jungle we made it up the hill to the road. Could we push it out? We tried but it sank into an even more difficult position. Finally a truck drove by and tied a rope (that looked like it would snap immediately) to the kijang van. Surprisingly he yanked us right out and before I knew it we were back taking those curves more violently than before. Maybe it felt like it because the van was a mess and all the shocks were gone. Thump, another bump, and no more sleep but I actually made it in time for the flight.

Kuala Lumpur was actually a rather lame town. Not much to do except for see the incredible twin towers. It doesn’t seem to have a real personality (seems like it’s trying to chase Singapore’s reputation) but the food was amazing, diverse, and cheap. The people I was hanging out with knew the town and were great company as well. That’s really all I needed and on top of that I got the best massage of my life. All the knots from that 14 hour bus ride were not easy to straighten out.

The weekend ended rather quickly and I was excited to get back to Meulaboh. Was my house still flooded? As I got to the airport to get on my plane however, I was told that my ticket was for the wrong date. No way was I going to accept more transportation issues and after having a heated exchange with the head of the airline in the Medan airport, I was on my way again. The plane was full of UN and other international NGO employees. Back to Aceh again…