May 31-June 1, 2010: Monday & Tuesday
Monday nights are "futsal nights" for WIEF employees, which is indoor football, aka soccer. I watch the game from the sidelines on the bench, writing or sketching every now and then in my notebook. These guys are seriously good, Malaysians know how to play soccer! They take it seriously but they know how to have fun with it as well; good way to release stress and energy from the work environment . . .
. . .
Tuesday I have Thai chicken curry with the guys at a really good Thai restaurant in the same building as the WIEF offices, then head over to Petaling Street and Central Market. I love it. I find so many perfect gifts for friends and family members that I wasn't even looking for. I'm not concerned at the moment of how I'm going to fit all of it in my suitcase, it'll work out in the end. Kohi bahat nahai, ("It's nothing/ no big deal"), as my Malaysian friend would say in Urdu ;)

It's raining hard though, so I'm stuck inside. I eat some corn - there's yummy corn sold in little cups everywhere here, and I decide to get a massage, it's been a few days ... kidding. I try the fish spa, which I've seen posters for all over Malaysia .. it's WILD! Teeny tiny fish pecking at your feet to remove the dead skin; initially it's really ticklish and definitely makes you laugh. I force myself to stare out the window and not mentally focus on the fact that there are little creatures gnawing away at my feet. Pretty soon I'm just writing in my journal and I think about 20 minutes go by. I probably won't do it again but glad to have tried it one time :)

. . .
I eventually do get soaked in the rain afterwards, though I find a nice coffee shop to dry out in . . .
My eyes have seen many poems in the rain,
but the rain in Malaysia has a prose of its own.
Everything scurry's when the rain is coming
Store owner's say "But it's about to rain, you can't go out ..."
But I go out. I go out, I arrive inside myself
It's hard, it's beautiful, heavenly, like snowfall, heavy rainfall
The skies are much wider here to fit the humidity, the steam, the oil, the lemak . . .
Thunder crashes.
Rivers flow through streets.
Tires swish, taxis break, eager for the stranded
Teenagers dance, women cover their heads
Restauranters open up their awnings and umbrellas
Foreigners move inside,
Locals stand outside,
knowing that, which we do not . . .
![]()