Perspectives on Kuala Lumpur
The air sticks to you like a second skin, clotted in a layer of dust rising
from the highways or woks where rice noodles are fried with eggs and pieces of
meat. The city’s close knit buildings act like an oven, heat trapped between
gleaming glass walls behind which suited analysts assess the workings of an
economy on the brink of disaster, while the handrails of escalators melt away
in subway station where armed policemen stand guard.
Fortunately the Olympics have shown up to distract us from petty
problems of corruption and kidnappings and grenade bombings. In Rio, the ageing
Lee Chong Wei picks up his racquet to face off against Lin Dan, muscles bulging
from his training in the People’s Liberation Army. Millions throng the 24-hour restaurants,
sipping sweet milk tea and screaming obscenities at the Chinese rival. Both men
throw away one set apiece, and the final one sees sweat freely falling from Lee
Chong Wei’s face as Lin Dan gesticulates at the camera. In the end it boils
down to a 22-20 score and 30 million people are elated-we have won, we have
won, we will go to the finals and win a gold medal at last. It is so emotional
to see the Malaysian representative edge out his old enemy after losses in
Beijing and London that the reaction to his eventual defeat at the hands of
Chen Long is simply mild disappointment.
Needless to say the country returns to normal. It simply waits for
something to happen next, yet more distractions or humiliating exposes to
distract the people from the fact that food prices have skyrocketed and the
devaluating ringgit can only buy much less than what it used to. The
moneychangers are having a bumper year as crowds gather daily to buy American
and British currency, while vacationing Arabs cart their shopping bags past them
through a massive tacky mall complete with concrete pyramids and obelisks.
This is Kuala Lumpur. Back here after five years the city feels the same, but I am now different, pulled by different currents.
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