Singapore Without a Sling to Kuala Lumpur

Kuala Lumpur, MALAYSIA -

Last night I had a dream, a surreal montage of the last few days that played out before me like a bad, made-for-TV movie.

I was high above a giant city - an Asian version of NYC with a twist of LA.  But within that city there was another country that clanged and beeped, buzz-sawed and squashed sidewalks, called adherents to prayer five-times a day from mint-colored minarets, bubbled curry from doorways and stalls, gave $25 Thai massages, crept and waddled with hunched backs, GQ wanna-bes, young and old, bearded and lambasted.

As I zoomed in from my aerial-dream view, one click - one more - one more - Satellite View to Street View, I entered a tiny backpackers hostel where everyone was watching re-runs of Ellen.  She made bad jokes about the snow storm in D.C.

Like all good dreams - this one came in flashes, unexpected scene changes.  I could see vats of hard boiled duck eggs in brown all-spice, cardamon and clove water.  A troll of a man, fresh from the streets of Santa Cruz - reeked of booze and cigarettes - rotated from his hostel dorm bed to the porch while his cell phone played a Grateful Dead song.  Bus rides past alligator farms and hikes through jungle preserves where giant lizards darted meters ahead across the path into the putrid swamp stirring up fist-sized spiders and crabs.  Aloe-honey water and plants that grow without dirt.  Sounds that made words I could not understand.

The moment in the dream that I remember best before waking up was walking from the the hostel - the Inn Crowd in Little India - where I had booked a $25 bus ticket to Kuala Lumpur.  No problem.  10-minute walk.  Here's a map.

I set out at 5:45 p.m., but I never found the station.  Sweat dripping in my eyes and from my nose, down my neck, soaking my shirt.  I asked for directions but nobody knew. The fear crept in.

6:25 p.m. -  I soon became aware of the dream.  You know that lucid moment when you realize that you're not really there but you can sort of take the helm and navigate the dreamscape current?

I was there and I knew I had missed the bus.  I would have to stay another night in Singapore.  Anxiety crept in - or perhaps a bit of superstition.  I had heard it was bad luck to back track on a journey.

I scanned the streets for some sign of this mysterious bus station.  The dream was no longer fun.  My brain cracked open.  I stopped and looked around.  Motorcycles swirled around me, snaking through side streets, narrow sidewalks offered no shade and across the street at a Krishna temple, a monk paced feverishly back and forth waving an urn of smoking incense.  I stared dumbfounded.  How was I going to make it anywhere in the world  if my mind was snapping at such a minor setback?

I watched the monk move before the facade of a thousand gods and goddesses.  He was chanting and within the temple the sound of bells rang ferociously like gnarling wolf jowls.  The whole sordid scene made me sick.

Finally, I saw a big, blue bus whizz past.  I followed it like a little Sherpa - still wanting to find the bus station regardless of the missed 6:30 transport.

Ah, yes!  Not the station I wanted but a station, nonetheless.  I booked 7 p.m., first-class ride to KL. 

Dreams are silly.  And this one ended up costing an extra $20 for getting lost.

I thought that perhaps I wouldn't write about this dream.  Oh well, it's just a dream.  One of those holy moment perhaps when you're mind is out of sorts and the Krishna temple is mocking you.

But all is well.  KL for 2 nights and a very early flight to Chennai.  Spirits high!  Hopefully, we'll have our first video to post within a few more days!  Until then ...

namaste