Government Activities

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.

The Streets of Kuala Lumpur

On the Way to Petaling Street

Buddha School

I was getting lost on purpose in Bangkok and I came across this really cool and seemingly hidden Buddhist Monastery. In the corner of it, I found this school where young boys are brought to be trained in the ways of Buddha. These kids were all very surprised to see me, since they don’t see anyone else for most of their schooling – especially white guys with big cameras.

They all ran over to me and that kid with the popsicle was the most engaging, asking me what kind of person I was and what the thing in my hand was. I told him it was a camera, for taking pictures, then asked him to pose so I could show him. He and the other kids hammed it up for a minute then came over to look at the pictures… they were totally fascinated.

I asked him his name, and he said, “Boy”

I further inquired, “What do you mean? You mean your name is ‘Boy’?”


“And what is his name,” I asked, pointing at the other kid.

“Oh, that is Boy too,” he remarked, as if it was a silly question.

It reminded me a bit of the Marklar deal, and it was all very strange. Then the master-Buddhist Monk came over and asked me to leave because I was disturbing the children.

Buddha School

Naples Cafe in the Evening

When I was in Italy I passed this cool outdoor cafe so I decided to grab a shot. The light was very good with the setting sun plus the warm oranges of the lights around the cafe itself.

Naples Cafe in the Evening

Cloud Temple

This is one of the temples scattered around Wat Pho in Bangkok.

Cloud Temple

Turkish Bazaar

Well, this wasn’t in Turkey, but it reminded me of that for some reason. This is the central market area of Kuala Lumpur that seemed to have a lot more Muslims than other areas of the city.

Turkish Bazaar

Afternoon Temples

Here is Wat Arun in the late afternoon with the Thailand sun beating down on me like that crotch laser in the old James Bond movies.

Temples in the Afternoon


Found in the back alleys of Thailand…


Rush Hour in Seoul

Seoul’s traffic is just about as bad as all major Asian cities, but when looked at from this vantage, it looks almost poetic.

Rush Hour

Escape from the Thai Snake Farm

While tooling around some of the old canals of Bangkok, I came upon this snake farm. The proprietor came out and begged me to come into his inside and I said no. He asked why, and I said, “Well I don’t like snakes, and I don’t like farms, and the combination thereof does not come close to canceling out the two negatives.” He looked perplexed at my polysyllabic Venn Diagram and walked back inside the snake farm alone.

Escape from the Thai Snake Farm

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