Thursday, February 28, 2013

Being in Melaka

I spotted her from just a few feet away, and our eyes met. There was an air of mystery about her. Where did she come from? What did she do for a living? What was going on behind her tiny eyes? She stood partially obscured by shadow as if to add to her own mystique, then stepped out slowly from the dark, allowing me to better see her snout. Deciding to play coy, I hesitantly returned focus to my meal, then glanced back after a few moments to see her walking away, along the sidewalk. After realizing that I had noticed her departure, she stopped and stared at me again. Since her face was not particularly expressive, she might have been looking at me with anything from mild amusement to wild-eyed terror. Hinting at the latter, she scurried back into the sewer drain, which I assume was her home. Though she appeared a few more times during my meal, she eventually disappeared, leaving me to ponder the strength of my appetite, and whether I was comfortable sitting so near to a rat with unknown intentions.

I have since moved from that part of town, and am now housed at Jiong Guesthouse, within China Town. A friend landed me a deal at a guesthouse, and I'm currently paying $4.61 per day for a room with a fan, though I will be paying just under $6 starting tomorrow, since I will be upgrading to an air-conditioned room. I'll be here for another two weeks. I don't know where I'll be headed after that, but I'm torn between jungle and the beach! There is always the chance, however small, that I'll find a place with both. I could settle for a jungle with a swimmable river.

I've finished a short story I stared a while back, called The Haunt, and have edited a particular scene of In Hell to be more graphic than it was previously. I started working on another story, but I got bored with it, so I think I'm going to take the outline of another story and build on that, instead. Soon, Mel and I will start another round of reading/editing of In Hell, since I need to focus on that story and get it out on the market to, gods willing, earn me some cash monies. Hey, you never know. An actual author here, by the name of... uh... Zvenemier... has published 2 books on his travels, selling over 26,000 copies and earning 3 Euro for each, meaning he's pulled in 78,000 EU, which is a bit more than that in USD!

Is this blog post boring? I feel like I'm rambling on, and not being funny. Oh well. If you read this far, it's your own fault.

Cheers for now!

Wednesday, February 13, 2013

Drinking Chinese Tea, Eating Pineapple, Starfruit, and Passionfruit While Sitting in a Diner 9,000 miles from 99% of my family and friends... and Listening to Gangsta's Paradise.

When I said I wanted to reserve a room at Lavender Guest House for 14 days, the attendent was shocked. He told me that 2 weeks was too much for Melaka. This sentiment was adamantly reinforced by "Gus", a student working at Knockknock House, who told me he preferred Bangkok to Kuala Lampur, which he preferred to Singapore. Too many clean streets and orderly surroundings in Singapore. Bangkok had the disorder he preferred.

So Melaka is boring, apparently, which makes it perfect for me. I only found Knockknock House after meandering down a few unknown streets in search of... well, nothing, really. I was just wandering. I almost stopped at a barber shop, but I didn't want to wait for the only barber to get around to chopping my hair off. Once Chinese New Year vacations finally end and the Chinese go back to work, I'll get a badly needed haircut somewhere else.

My living situation at Lavender Guest House is this: A 12x5 room with a bed, a table, a single power outlet, and a ceiling fan, two shared bathrooms to each floor, a shared kitchen with free coffee and tea (hoorah!), and laundry services for 5 Malaysia Ringgits (RM), which is only $1.66USD, but takes a day or a day and a half. Within walking distance to two malls, and China Town, which will be much better most of the other tourists leave. I feel pretty out of place, considering that I am in an extreme minority, but everyone is very friendly and helpful. And the cost is very manageable! My room costs 20 RM a day, which is about $6.66USD. The pot of Chinese tea I've been sipping for the last two hours cost just under $2USD, and the plate of fruit was $2USD. So far, I'm sitting at $10.66USD for the day. Not bad.

This is something of an experiment, now that Melissa has gone back to work. What the hell am I going to do with myself? Yesterday was something of a failure, since I spent around four hours looking for a place to get a haircut with nothing to show for it, but I did manage to get some writing done, an accomplish I've continued today. I have a story in the works that I'm really excited about. I just hope I can write it the way it needs to be written!

Ok, this is it for now. I'll try to be funnier in the future.


Saturday, February 9, 2013

Noir Poopery

With what I had seen over the previous few days, there was no telling what was hidden behind the dented and stained white metal of the door in front of me. It looked innocent enough, sure, and it blended in with the scenery, but something was amiss. The people in this part of the building were different, somehow. All of them were men, all with a look in their eyes like they had a void in their soul that needed to be filled... or maybe emptied. One of these wanderers had come out the door only a few moments earlier, his eyes almost glittering, and he'd left in such a hurry that he hadn't even closed the door behind him. He'd washed his hands, then- I'd heard the rush of water- and disappeared into the crowds without a word. Something was going down behind that door. Something stank, literally.

Through the crack, I could see what looked like more of the same white porcelain walls that graced the rest of the room. But something else caught my eyes: Five or six little gray metal hooks, each maybe an inch long. But for what? That man who'd walked through that door, what could that guy have needed to hang? What could anyone need to hang in that 5x5 room, and why? I started to reach slowly for my pistol, then stopped; surely, they had eyes on me already. I wasn't supposed to be here, and they knew it. With a look behind me, I realized I was being tailed. Some kid stood watching me, his face expressionless except for what appeared to be... hate. A shock of panic hit me suddenly. I'd made a mistake. They'd been watching me since I'd walked through the main door, and time had grown short without my even knowing. Without a word, I plunged through the door.

The door gave easily. TOO easily, and it hit the wall so hard it bounced back and hit me square in the elbow. I jumped back at the surprise of it, and my head hit the hard porcelain wall... right beside the hooks that might have dug into my brain. I stepped carefully away from the wall, keeping my eyes on the hooks, then felt the final trap: my foot began to slip down into the floor. I almost cursed as I struggled for footing and leapt back into the almost closed door, slamming it shut. I then turned, eyeing the door for any way to secure it against the small boy who'd been watching me, and found a small cylindrical lock. No sure protection, but better than nothing. I slid it into place and turned to eye what had surely been meant to be the end of me. What in the name of the gods...

In the middle of the floor, right where I'd damn near met my end, was a 3x3 square of porcelain that was different from the others. Two sections of the floor were covered with consistent ridges meant for some dark purpose that could only make sense if I could put myself into the mind of the depraved people who came in here for their dark, stinking business. Between the ridged sections was a depression that started at maybe 3 inches of depth, then sloped downward to... a hole. It was just a hole. Prettied up with porcelain, sure, but it was just a hole in the middle of the floor.

My mind raced. What purpose could this hole have? I thought back to the man who'd come out as I'd neared the door: he knew what went on in here, but he was long gone. There was no catching him. And the boy outside, watching, he wouldn't know anything. His bosses probably promised him candy, or bullets for his tiny pistol, or that they'd let his family live. They wouldn't give him any information  beyond what he needed to know: That I was on the verge of figuring out their dark, damp, stinking secret.

That was when it hit me: Information was the key! That man's eyes were glittering with KNOWLEDGE. I eyed the hole suspiciously, then thought back to the Viet Cong, hiding everything in holes. Sure, the Viet Cong had dissipated. Sure, Malaysia was far from Vietnam. Sure, there are better ways to hide information, but not ways that can't be easily figured out or intercepted. This was the perfect hiding place. A strange hole in a strange room with no signs to tell you what was going on: If you had to ask, you didn't belong. I placed my hands on the ridged sections and lowered my ear to the hole.

"I'm listening." I said in what I hoped sounded like English with an Asian accent. "I am ready for your informations."

But nothing happened. All I heard was the drip of water from somewhere in the room,and the fidgeting of the boy outside. He was clearly antsy to put a bullet where the sun didn't shine.

Suddenly, fury gripped me. After this chase, after all this time, I was just as plugged for information as I'd been in the start. If I couldn't get what I wanted from them, then I'd give THEM something to ponder. Something that stank just as bad as their rotten crimes. I stood and let loose a curse. No matter if the boy heard. His feeble little body couldn't break through the sliding lock. I stood on the ridges, then thought again: I didn't want to make a mistake, make a mess, and leave evidence on my best slacks. Carefully, I removed my pants and boxers, hung each on the hooks on the wall, then returned my feet to the ridged parts of the floor and squatted low, so low that even the dankest portions of my colon would not go un-emptied. With a grunt, I let loose. Unfortunately, the squatting position gave me a prime view of my act. Wow, that was disgusting. Seriously, ugh.

But man, did it feel good to give my quarry  a piece of my mind. Or a piece of my last few meals, anyway.

Once I'd finished, I reached into my pants pocket for a few stretches of toilet paper onto which I had hurriedly scribbles clues, earlier. No more need for those. Good thing I'd brought my own, too, since there was none in this god-awful stall. Er, room. Just some weird hose contraption that I preferred not to use on my butthole, thank you very much. I wiped my ass clean after numerous attempts, then found something I'd neglected to notice, in my haste. A lever. After all this time, I'd overlooked what might have been the ON switch for the communication hole. I hurriedly put on my pants and, with a dainty foot, pressed the lever.

The ground erupted with a roar, and I realized that my poops must have clogged their information hole. If I didn't hurry, my number might be up. I fumbled with the lock, pulled the door open and shouldered the stupid little boy out of my way as I scrambled for the exit. I hurriedly washed my hands, since there is always time for proper hygiene, and if I'm going to die, I'd rather not have poop germs on my fingers, and the floor continued to rumble as I sprinted out of the room, out through the crowded building, and to unexpected safety.

As I write this from a safe location, I can only hope they got the message: I'll be back.

Note: I made most of this up. Except the relevant parts about pooping.

Sunday, February 3, 2013

What I am up to, n' stuff

Hey all! Just a quick heads up that I'll be offline for a few days (I think). Mel and I just arrived today on Koh Samui in Thailand. We're staying the night, then heading to Ang Thong National Park (another island), where we will stay for two days while kayaking, snorkeling, hiking, and getting stung by the local flora and fauna. After that, we'll head back to Koh Samui, then take a series of ferries and busses to Kuala Lampur, Malaysia, then another bus (or a taxi?) to Melaka, Malaysia. Mel will be returning to to work on the 12th, but I will most likely be staying there for a bit. One sweet thing about Malaysia... No visa required upon entry, and you can stay for 90 days! Huzzah! I'll try and get more pics uploaded in the relatively near future. That might not be for a week, but I'll get them up, I swear it.

Piggy nose!