This is a cool-looking mosque in Kuala Lumpur, although I doubt a lot of Muslims walk in and say, “Wow this place is like totally cool and rad.” You can see part of the cityscape behind the mosque.
Normally I don’t blog about business stuff, but this was an interesting experience.
Today I went through the process of signing up as a Director of a Malaysian company.
It required driving to a circumspect-looking shopping area in Kuala Lumpur where I had to walk by live rodents, reptiles, and insects being sold for lunch to find a narrow, poorly-lit stairway that led into darkness. It was extremely muggy, and it occurred to me that I prefer my outdoor experiences to be approximately the same temperature as my hotel room.
Upon finding my way up the distressed metal stairs and touching the wall by accident, only to have asbestos-laden substance coat my arm, I made it to the top to find a pock-marked metallic door ajar bearing the name of the lofty-titled Malaysian occupant inside. Upon entering, I could not help but notice it was the size of a double-wide phone booth cramped with papers, bad Indian radio, stickers from 70′s rock bands that were never popular in the states, and a dodgy-looking 60-year old Malay whose toupee was nearly half his age but did not make him look so.
The process of signing the papers involved a myriad of stamps, signatures, staple-reomovers, re-stapling, re-staple-removing, stamping-to-the-beat of Indian music, and his proud motioning to a crooked and faded photograph on the wall of him shaking hands with another government functionary, also clad in garish garments and an organ-grinder monkey cap, at a hotel conference room with bad wallpaper. He babbled inconceivable noises to me as his head bobbled like a Sikh in a sandstorm, the staccato rhythm to which I found myself nodding in absent agreement, so as to expedite the process and allow me to make a hasty egress as a new director of the company.
This will sound strange, but I enjoy walking around cemeteries listening to ambient music on my iPod and taking pictures. I think about dissolving patterns, in the Wolfram sense.
That’s why I was excited to find this really unique cemetery on the outskirts of Kuala Lumpur. You can see little pictures of the dead on top of each tombstone. The cemetery was vast and would have taken many hours to circumnavigate.
Neela’s dream is to be famous in the movies. Neela is currently with her family at the Batu Caves celebrating Deepavali. She is with her family and her mother nods appreciatively at me. “Are you going to put her on the Internet? She will be famous yes?” Neela demurs, then I ask her if she wants to be famous in Hollywood or Bollywood movies. She bobbles her head around, which clearly means, “YesNo”.